Where the Southern Cross the Dog: The Green River Stories

By Trey R. Barker
Fairwood Press $8.99 (chapbook)

This is a banner blues year in the field of Horror. Just off the top of my head, you have the novels ONE WAY TICKET TO MIDNIGHT by Gary Jonas and THE BLUES AIN'T NOTHIN' by Tina Jens released almost concurrently. And Trey R. Barker's chapbook is as hot on their heels as a hell hound on their trail. And why not? It's a perfect fit. They call the blues "devil music," and the legend of Robert Johnson says he may or may not have sold his soul Faust style. That sale may or may not be what his song "Cross Road Blues" is about, though nothing outwardly about soul-selling appears in the lyric. But hey, there's definitely something mysterious between those haunting lines. Plus Johnson did also record "Hell Hound On My Trail," "Me and The Devil Blues," and "Preachin' Blues (Up Jumped the Devil)," so he was surely tormented by old Scratch in some way, eh?

All this is by way of introducing this sharply produced chapbook of stories by Trey R. Barker, perhaps best known for appearances in Cemetery Dance, Whitley Strieber's Aliens, Noirotica 3, and others, as well as co-editing last year's gritty anthology CRIME SPREE. Fairwood Press (5203 Quincy Avenue SE, Auburn WA 98092) does a great job, including retouched photographic art by Eric M. Turnmire, and an introduction by acclaimed author Steve Rasnic Tem.

The introduction states, in part: "The stories ... are about human beings stuck in the past, trapped by guilt and shame, haunted by those they have failed." And there's really no more eloquent way to describe these gem-like tales of tortured spirits and people, and the fine line that separates the two.

Barker sets up the Cross Roads of his town, Green River, in an introduction by a narrator who "was born to a mama didn't ever know no man," whose long-standing "pissin'" contest with the fallen "Lucy" has been on-going for a while. "Jake Leg Blues" asks: what is hell? and answers that it's a cycle of eternal vengeance and physical pain ... Crippled in more ways than one by contaminated alcohol, a man searches for the guy who caused his pain, but what he finds isn't likely to make anyone happy.

"Black Angel Blues" is another grim meditation on the nature of heaven and hell. Would you do something right the second time, given the chance, or would you repeat your mistake? And what if angels risked their lives to help you? This one will stay with you as much for the background it creates as for its visceral scenes. Finally, in "Stones in the Passway" (after the Robert Johnson song), an ex-biker realizes he may be able to relive the accident which changed his life and set things right, but first he must participate in another's quest for redemption.

Returning to Steve Tem's introduction seems appropriate. "The most remarkable thing about the Blues is the way it creates beauty out of pain, discovering joy in the deepest misery." And the remarkable thing about these fine stories is how they mimic the sparse yet rich accompaniment of old-time Blues, and how Trey Barker uses them to conjure up angels just as easily as devils.

When Sonny Boy asks, "Can I play that here?" after the song "Cross Road Blues" is requested in a place where you'd think devil music shouldn't belong, the answer is simple. "Long as you sing it right, boy, long as you sing it right." Amen.