“You look like you just shook hands with the devil.” He had remarked with a blank stare.
“We have all done so at one time in our lives.” The comment had come like a curse, as Red Cloud peered suspiciously between us, and then looked away, “The difference is made in the deal….”
Once Rich had run the power cables into the building, it had not taken him long to drill the four holes into the door frame. He had taken two long steel and hinged plates, and bolting one onto the door, cut a fitting into the door-frame. To this he fastened the other plate onto the frame from the inside. They extended outward as he closed the door, and through several holes drilled in those plates, he inserted two large padlocks. Closing them as he promptly dropped the keys into Frank’s open hand.
“The only way that anyone will get through that door now--,” Rich assured the old man with a pat on the back, “Is if they rip the door clean off its hinges.”
“You’re good with your hands.” The old man slowly nodded as he examined all of our faces, a dark glint of suspicion reflecting within his wide and staring eyes.
“Well, let’s finish up out here--,” Motioning at my friends I sneezed, cursing at the night.
“You’d better get somewhere warm before you catch your death of cold.” Grinning devilishly, Frank shoved the keys into his jeans pocket, and slapping Rich’s shoulder, turned and began making his way back up the path.
I had looked to the pad-locked door as all hope of ever getting in there again had faded. But then, I had caught the gleam in Rich’s eye, and noticed the third key in his hand, as he smiled, “Tomorrow is another night—let’s get some shut-eye.”
Frank had taken one of the bedrooms, as respectively we had insisted that the elder Red Cloud assume the second. I just didn’t have the heart to see the old man attempting to sleep on the floor with the rest of us. And so, Rich, Scott and I gathered sleeping bags and attempted to make ourselves as comfortable as possible.
No sooner had we extinguished the lights and lamps than was Scott fast asleep. He was accustomed to the absolute stillness and utter silence of which presided over the deep forest in the night. But for us it was an all-consuming shadow that now kept us wide awake, staring and listening in the blackness. It wasn’t that others lacked sense or sensibility. They had simply been blessed to have remained unaware of the nightmares that, unseen by most, lurked within those darkest of places.
At times I had felt remorse for past mistakes, even feared certain knowledge, and suffered with experience. But all things considered, the regrets were far fewer than the rewards. In some respects, I feared that I now thrived upon the adrenaline generated during these investigations. Was it all truly done for the sake of the greater good? Or was it all just some excuse, guilt and helplessness that, becoming a self-destructive force, now compelled me onward. Had dedication indeed become obsession, and faced with the consequences, would I be able to avoid the brink of utter disaster? It had been nothing unusual to question my own motivations and sanity at times. In fact, over the past few years and during the frequent and terrifying series of events, it had become common practice. Taking everything into consideration, the circumstances of our current situation included, one could hardly blame me.
I’m not certain as to how long I lay there, pondering, listening to the rhythmic breathing of my companions. But somewhere between the contemplations of a haunted and most turbulent past, I slipped into a dark and troubled sleep….
Saturday, September 1, 1974.
We had all awakened to sore backs, stiff necks and shivering in an early morning chill. The season seemed to have changed almost over-night. Slowly clambering to my feet, I folded my sleeping bag and dropping it onto a nearby chair, turned and made my way toward the window. Drawing the curtain aside and peering into the early morning gloom, I looked into the heavens. Ominous clouds had gathered. Gazing through the rain speckled glass, I groaned while placing a hand against an aching lower back.
The rain came down in a sudden torrent and with surprising force! Hammering against the window, it pounded like the bony fists of the dead upon the old and thatched roof. There was a haze, a distant fog that now slowly drifted upward and from off the lake. It crept like the icy tendrils of some invisible thing. Silently moving in and around the little cabins, embracing, suffocating and concealing everything, it made its way upward and through the camp. For reasons that now caused my heart to thunder, I attributed a strange life to that haunting mist –
and feared the blinding, all-consuming reach of the slow but steadily approaching fog…
Utterly fatigued and stiff with unspeakable aches and pains, I had turned to the smells and sounds of breakfast being prepared. Rich and Scott busied themselves in the little kitchen, the two working as a team while they bumped and fumbled about with cutlery and attended to our meals. It was common practice that we took turns preparing the meals during investigations. I had just been fortunate enough to have always been near diners in most cases, and happily bought meals for all included.
“It’s almost eight.” Frank had cackled, lighting a cigarette from where he sat at the kitchen table, “You boys are late sleepers.”
Avoiding the cloud as he spoke, I sat near the window smiling and said, “We were up quite late. And to be honest, I had trouble getting to sleep. I can’t get over how relaxing—how quiet things are in the night.”
“It’s always been quieter here in the autumn, and as still as a grave.” Old Frank grinned, his eyes little more than dark slits, as tapping bony fingers upon the table, he looked up, “But, it gets a whole lot worse in the winter.”
“You spent winters out here?” Scott accepted a mug of coffee from Rich and joined Frank at the table, “I thought that the camp closed down in the fall?”
“Yes sir, it certainly did--,” Frank grimaced, “But, someone had to keep an eye on the place. My brother was married, and we never could find anyone reliable enough. And so, since I was already divorced at the time, and my boy lived with his mother during the off season, I would stay up here.”
“The seclusion would have driven me off the deep end.” Rich called from the kitchen, cursing as he fixed ham and eggs in two large skillets on a hot plate, and struggled with the toaster.
“I had a skidoo—so I could get into town when I needed to.” Frank butted the cigarette and leaned back, clasping his hands upon his breast, “But I’d never do it again. Being alone out here and snowed in with nothing but old memories, and the dead….”
“The dead--,” The comment had caught me off guard, “Has anything out of the ordinary ever happened to you during those winter stays?”
He slowly shook his head, looking down within deep reflection, as he glanced back at me. He suddenly seemed very distant, dreaming in darkness as he quietly spoke, “No—I’ve never seen anything. But on those bitter cold nights, when the wind picks up, you could swear that you can still hear them. The souls of those killed in accidents, and the dead at the bottom of that lake. Howling, calling from somewhere out there in the ice and snow and darkness of the forest. It still makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.” He rubbed at goose pimples that formed upon his arms, “It’s a sound that the wind makes when it comes through the hollow. It’s a kind of moaning, almost sounds like whispers on some nights. And if you make the mistake of sitting here and listening to them long enough, you begin to think that they’re calling to you….”
“Maybe we should’ve come out here during the first snow?” Rich said, as Scott moved from the table to assist him, and they began serving the breakfast.
“Then I’m afraid that you boys would be on your own.” Frank stirred cream and sugar into his coffee, “Because, you wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever getting me back out here in the winter.”
“It almost sounds like you really believe that there was something out there.” Scott muttered, as grabbing at the plate of heaped toast on the table, he indulged in his ham and eggs.
“I consider myself to be a rational man.” Frank had stared blankly about the table, though focusing upon no one in particular, “But I doubt that there are many men, that being put alone out here for one winter—would willingly come back…”
“It is not just him that feels this way--,” Red Cloud had agreed, sipping at his coffee and frowning, “We have all become accustomed to the ways of the city. There are few who are comfortable alone in places such as these, anymore.”
“Especially, when left alone with the ghosts of your own past.” The thought had escaped me without intention.
To this remark Frank had simply scoffed, grunting as he said, “Everyone’s got a few skeletons rattling around in the family closet— but it wouldn’t be enough to keep most folks awake through the night.”
“I haven’t had a decent night’s rest in many years…..” Dousing my breakfast in all too much pepper, I shrugged, “In fact—I don’t even remember sleeping well as a child.”
“I’m surprised that any of you boys can sleep. Especially the way you go sneaking around and looking for things that go bump in the night.” Frank sucked back the remainder of his coffee in one long gulp.
“And you’re right about that. Well, with exception to Scott--,” Rich had attempted at a little humor to lighten the mood around the table, “He could sleep through an earthquake and manage anything, as long as he got three square meals a day.”
“Heck, you can call me anything—,” Scott chuckled and winking, looked up from his plate, “But don’t ever call me late for supper.”
Rich had finished bringing out the last of the plates. Taking a seat beside me at the table, he looked to Frank, “And speaking of things that go bump in the night? This brings us to the topic of our magazine article and Fleetwood B camp.”
“I’m hoping that you’re going to tell me that you boys are ready to give me a clean bill of sale.” Frank forced a smile, and wiping at his mouth with a napkin, said, “Because, I’d really hate to have to shoot the lot of you, and bury you up there in the hills.”
There was a sudden stillness as we all stared, then slapping at his leg, Rich pointed at Frank and began laughing aloud. It was obvious that Red Cloud had not seen the humor in the jest, but had remained silent. To some degree I suspected that the old man had not been joking….
“Well, with exception to an uneasy feeling in the cook-house, likely due to that story that you told us about the camp cook--,” Rich reasoned it out, “The only other place that seemed to draw our attention was the boat-house, and that lake.”
The comment had stopped Frank dead in the middle of buttering his toast. Looking up from his plate, he almost growled, “There’s nothing in there except for my boat and a few personal things—like I told you all before. And she’s not to be tampered with, for any damn reason.”
It was obvious to the rest of us as to why Rich had intentionally strummed against that raw nerve. And the reaction had been a tune that played upon fear, hidden guilt, or possibly both.
“It’s just an old dark building—it would seem spooky to just about anyone.” I changed the subject, drawing Frank’s attention from Rich and the boat-house.
“I would guess that the lake is the real antagonist in this story--,” Rich agreed, “It has a lot of bad history.”
“With all the damn boating accidents and drownings, what would you expect?” Frank seemed almost pleased with the suggestion as he chewed at a forkful of ham and eggs, “But once you boys do that write-up for me, maybe we can put all that bullshit to rest and all get on with our lives. Once this place is up and running, I won’t have to contend with all the stupid gossip going on in town….”
“Well so far all seems just fine.” Rich lied, and looking to Red Cloud, asked, “Did you have any questions or concerns?”
The old native peered around the table. It was obvious that he cared little for the question, but was bothered more while considering the answer. Finally shrugging and just looking down at his breakfast, he had sighed deeply, and shook his head, “This place feels the same as it always did.”
“Well, now that’s a good thing to hear!” Frank clapped his hands together, “There might even be a bonus in this for you boys before the weekend is through!”
I had experienced a sudden and strange sense of guilt with those words. It felt as though we were being bought and paid off. It was enough to make me shudder, as interrupting the thought, I said, “And that would be really generous of you, assuming that we don’t stumble over anything, before then….”
Frank peered up from his plate of food, and winking, almost whispered, “Then just watch your step. It’d be a real shame if anything happened to anyone….”
Rich and the others had just looked over at me, none of us absolutely certain as to whether it had simply been concern on the old man’s part, or a threat within warning. Quite honestly, I had never experienced more unnerving innuendos in my life. And if this man was truly innocent, then I was certainly losing my mind….
The morning had passed all too slowly. Trapped in the cabin by the seemingly endless rain, we had all just sat around bored. Scott and Red Cloud had played a game of cards with old Frank at the table, while Rich and I sat near the hearth, tending to the fire. I had never learned to play Poker, and to be honest, had very little interest in starting now. We had been fortunate to discover a supply of covered firewood just behind our cabin. With the sudden change in weather and a damp chill rolling in with the fog, it had been a blessing. We could have carried the generator and electric heaters in from the truck, but there was little need at this point. We were unlikely to remain longer than a few more days, and it seemed more of a bother than anything else. With the little wood-stove burning to one side of the room and the hearth on the other, we managed to maintain a comfortable temperature.
I had sat like the proverbial “fox in the hen-house” while contemplating numerous ways of escaping the cabin to investigate the boat-house. It was highly unlikely that Frank would dare venture out, and it might be our only opportunity to search the old yacht. It seemed that the harder the old man had pressed us to leave it alone, the more determined I had had become. It had grown into an obsession as I sat before the fire, anticipating, dreaming, while staring into the crackling embers and dancing flames….
“We should really take a walk around.” Rich had suddenly spoken, as through a stream of pipe smoke his eyes glittered with mischief, and I knew that we had shared the same curiosity.
“You want to go strolling around in that flood?” Frank cursed under his breath, as dealing out another hand in the game, he scoffed, “The only thing that you’ll find out there is a bad chill, maybe even pneumonia. The damn rain around here might last all day, maybe even all night. Hell, possibly even carry on through the whole damn weekend. Wouldn’t surprise me one bit—or be anything unusual for the time of year.”
“Well, that being the case, I’d like to have another look around the equipment office and storage building.” Rich puffed at his pipe, thinking briefly, and looked to Frank, “We’re leaving here Sunday afternoon, so we might as well get a few more pictures for the article in our magazine. We might not get another chance.”
Red Cloud had looked over at us, and reading the intent within our actions, turned to Frank and said, “It might be best to just get it all over and done with now. Then we can just leave first thing in the morning.”
“I can even start packing the rig while you boys finish up?” Scott had eagerly offered.
It was apparent by the expression upon Frank’s face that the opportunity to leave sooner had appealed to him, but there was still a shadow of suspicion.
“Just leave the cooler in here.” Rich had turned to look over at Scott, “We still need to fix dinner, but everything else can be loaded. I really don’t think that there’s any need to stay out here any longer.”
And with those words, the doubt seemed to fade from Frank’s face, as smiling and shrugging, he leaned back into his c
hair, “Well, if you boys want to go out into that storm, be my guest. Just mind yourselves on the dock. It’s old, slippery and treacherous in the wind. If you fall and go down into that lake—no one will ever see you again….”
The words in warning sounded more like a threat, as dealing the cards without removing his eyes from mine, he said, “Just mind your step, people go missing around here all the time….”
Ominous clouds darkened the heavens as we made our way toward the old dock through the downpour. It had appeared as something from out of a nightmare. The fog making its way in long and trailing streams, it crept like phantasmal fingers from off the black lake. The rain had turned the path into a thick mud. Blinded in the down-pour, we slipped and stumbled every step of the way.
Covered in heavy rain-gear, we said very little until we had arrived at the main office. When we had reached for the door, it had simply fallen open before us. The lock had already been opened and was resting on the window ledge near the door. Retrieving the lock, Rich held it up before me with an expression of wide-eyed amazement, “Frank never left the cabin last night. No one did. I know that for a fact, because I put tape above the door just to be sure.”
“Well someone was certainly here. And what’s more—they have spare keys to the locks.”
Retrieving a heavy-looking plank which had been left on the dock, he shot a nervous glance at me, “Be careful—we’re obviously not alone out here.”
Shoving the door open, we moved inward with the greatest of caution. Everything was in darkness and remained undisturbed upon first glance. Rich had turned on the lights, as removing our heavy coats and resting them upon the front counter, we paused to catch our breath.
“I wonder who could have opened that lock.” He had just stared at me.
“Well, we know that it wasn’t one of us.” Looking around the room, I peered into the long shadows, attempting to discern evidence of anything having been tampered with, “And that nothing seems to have been disturbed.”
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