“Stop messing around. You’re going to make me fall in,” Zoe said. She was in one of her moods today.
I smoothed my long wet hair and waded over to her. Seaweed licked the bottoms of my feet, and I pictured a monster underneath trying to grab at my ankles. I headed over toward the beach, where the weeds had been trimmed, and planted my feet on the sand.
“Ew, Jess, are you peeing again?” Zoe asked, finally breaking into a smile. The sun was high in the distance, and I made a face at her and grabbed another floating lounger off the dock, climbing onto it after pulling a soda can from the cooler.
“You wish,” I said, making no sense.
“God, sometimes I wish you were older,” Zoe said, and I believed her. We were always close, but I could feel us starting to drift apart. Soon she’d be driving, going to college… having sex with boys. I almost blushed as I thought about the last one, and pushed it away. I knew we’d always be sisters, but I didn’t want to lose my best friend too.
“I’m sorry, Zoe. I’ll stop being such a baby,” I promised, and she smiled again.
“Good. Now… Dad’s gone fishing, and Grandma’s at the doctor’s with that neighbor lady. What do you say we take the car and head into town?” Zoe’s eyes were full of mischief, and I instantly wanted to tell her what a horrible idea that was. But that was what a little girl would say, not a woman’s best friend.
“Deal,” I said, partly aware of the huge mistake we’d be making.
We floated for a while longer, talking about where we’d go when we got to town. We could ride our bikes—it was only like fifteen minutes from here—but Zoe had it in her to take Dad’s car. She said it would be cooler, and maybe we’d run into that grass-cutting boy. That sold me on the whole adventure. I closed my eyes as we floated, the intense sun pressing against my water-resistant sunscreen, and imagined his strong arms wrapping around me.
He kissed me softly, awkwardly, because I didn’t know what a kiss was supposed to feel like. It was all a little too PG for even my own mind, but I went with it.
“What are you doing?” Zoe asked me, breaking me from the spell I was under.
“Nothing,” I lied, and wiped my lips with a damp arm.
“Come on, let’s get dry and changed,” Zoe said, and that was when I saw him.
The old neighbor guy was on his deck, facing us. Zoe didn’t seem to notice, and she stood on the dock, water dripping from her small two-piece bikini. I saw the man’s eyes linger on my sister’s body, and I cleared my throat, trying to warn Zoe.
She didn’t get the hint. “Are you getting out?” she asked, and I shook my head, walking to the beach instead of climbing onto the dock. Sand clung to my feet as I ran to the cabin, glancing back to see the man still staring at Zoe, not even attempting to hide his leering gaze. My skin was flush with goosebumps, and all sorts of alarm bells were ringing.
Zoe arrived a minute later, a towel wrapped around her midsection. “What was that all about?”
“Didn’t you notice the neighbor? He was creeping all over you,” I said, my voice cracking.
Zoe looked over her shoulder. She was smiling. “Hope he got a good show,” she said, and I was disturbed at the comment.
“You shouldn’t let him stare at you,” I said firmly.
“What am I supposed to do? He was standing on his dock. You don’t know he was even watching us. You always make such a big deal out of everything,” Zoe said, and I bristled at the accusation.
She hadn’t seen his eyes squinting, or the way his lip quivered as he stood frozen in time. I wondered if I should tell Dad later, and decided I would.
“Just drop it, Jess. Let’s go into town,” she said.
“Do you mind if we take the bikes?” I asked, feeling like enough bad things had already happened today.
Zoe appraised me as only a big sister could; she lifted her white sunglasses from her eyes and stared hard at me. “Fine. But if we see that cute boy, you have to tell him what a good driver I am,” she said, and I stuck out my pinky finger.
“Deal.” I was thrilled she actually listened to me, and we wound our way to the cabin and inside, away from the glances of the man next door.
July 12th – 2020
I had a half hour, and that was enough time to make a pit stop at the feed store to talk to this Henry character. A few minutes later, I was entering the shop, finding it nearly empty. Truth be told, I was amazed the place was even open on a Sunday. Most of these small towns closed down on Sundays, and nothing was open past eight during the week.
A grumpy woman stood behind a cashier’s desk, and I walked by her, heading further inside. Skids of fertilizer sat on the floor, as if that were an impulse item here in Cloud Lake. I turned to the woman, about to ask for Henry, when I saw a man disappearing into a tiny office. I followed him, knocking on the door. When no one answered, I tried the door handle, depressing it.
“Hello? Henry?” I called, sticking my head into the staff kitchen.
He returned to the room, a bewildered look on his face. He was older than I expected, shock-white hair combed to the side. He was clean-shaven and wore a crisp red button-up short-sleeved shirt.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Henry?” I asked.
“That’s what my nametag says.” He smiled, tapping his chest, before realizing he wasn’t wearing one.
“I was talking to the sheriff this morning, and he told me I should speak to you about the campout on your land this week,” I said, leaving out who I was.
“So you want to pitch a tent and wait for ET to swing by for a visit, do you?” he asked, his eyes dancing around.
“I guess I do,” I said.
“Show up Tuesday night, and bring a tent and sleeping bag. I’m told there’ll be a grill out there too, if you fancy a steak.” He looked like he thought he might have offended me. “Unless you’re one of them vegans or whatever.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No. Sounds good. Where’s your place?”
He gave me directions, drawn on the white space of a flyer for his store.
“Have you seen the lights?” I asked him.
He glanced to the door and then behind him, making sure no one was looking. It all felt a little set up for my liking. “I have. More than once. They seem to favor my land for some reason. Close to the lake, fertile soil, lots of lowing cows. Had some of my cows taken from me too.”
“Just who are they?” I asked him.
“You know. Aliens from another planet. The Grays.”
I leaned in, my voice quiet. “Have you seen them?”
He advanced as well, so our faces were only inches apart. “Nope,” he said too loudly. “But I know they’re there.”
“Why, then? Do you expect to them to drop by?” I asked, wondering if this was all a big scam. I expected we’d see lights, but they’d be from a remote-controlled drone or something even more obvious. Maybe old Henry here was going to don a rubber suit, complete with glowing fingers, and chase us around.
“Who knows? They come when they feel like it. They don’t send me a calendar invite, or whatever you kids call it,” Henry said.
I chuckled and shook his hand again. “Good to meet you, Henry.” I lifted the paper with his crude map on it. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
I walked through the store and picked out a small one-person tent, and settled on the cheapest sleeping bag. I didn’t expect to need one with the heat, and as I stood at the register, I grabbed some sunscreen and a can of insect repellent. I had almost forgotten about my lunch date and checked the time, seeing I was already five minutes late. I swiped my card and told the grumpy woman to have a nice day. She didn’t reply.
I left, and my car led me around the lake; my first time on this particular road in many years. I had mixed feelings about heading near my grandma’s cabin. Before I came to Cloud Lake, I promised myself I wouldn’t set foot near it, but now that I was here, it felt childish and foolish to stay away. It was only a
cabin, and Peter Martin was long gone. So was my grandma.
As I drove down the side road heading toward the water, I passed a few familiar homes. How many of them still had the original occupants in them? Likely they’d been sold or passed down to the next generation by now. I neared Grandma’s cabin and slowed. It was unkempt, tall grass around it, looking like it hadn’t been manicured in quite some time. Who owned it? From the looks of the property, they’d deserted it ages ago. The cabin itself was in dire condition, the old cedar shingles were curled and sporadically placed on the roof, and the windows were boarded up tight.
I spotted the place where Peter Martin used to live, and thought about that first time Zoe and I had been swimming in the lake and he had watched my sister with an unapologetic stare. I should have said something to my dad that day, but Zoe told me I was crazy. She’d reasoned that men had been checking her out for a year already, and Mr. Martin was no different.
I had only been fourteen, and my big sister’s word was gold. I could have saved myself some serious trouble if I’d spoken up.
I heard a knock on my window. John was standing there with a serving tray of food and a smile.
“Sorry, I wasn’t sure I had the right place,” I lied as I stepped out of the car.
I saw him glance into the back seat, where the tent sat in a bag with the tags on it. “Going camping?”
“Something like that,” I said, not explaining any further. I wanted to visit Chester Brown’s that afternoon, before it was too late. I knew how early farmers tended to go to bed, since they woke up so early in the morning.
“Come on, I have some hot coffee and sweet tea. Your choice,” John said, pointing at the table he had set up.
“As hot as it is, I can’t say no to a good cup of coffee,” I told him, and sat down at the side of the picnic table that faced the lake. He didn’t waste any time in sitting directly beside me. I could feel the heat emanating off his leg, which was only mere inches from mine.
“Hey, don’t go putting any pressure on me. No one said it was good coffee.” He laughed, and I had to join him. I was usually quite reserved around new people, especially men, but John had done a good job breaking down my barriers, or at least having me lower them enough for him to get a look at the real me.
“Why are you here, John?”
“Because I’m hungry,” he answered.
“I mean in Cloud Lake. What is it you do?” I asked.
“Bit of a handyman.” He looked away, grabbing a sandwich. He’d made an assortment, cut into small quarters of white bread. I picked one up and took a bite, the spicy mustard sharp on my tongue. “I figured I could make a decent living somewhere like here by offering to help folks with their rental properties. I’m also trained in small boat engine repair, so that’s really come in handy out here too.”
“Aren’t there bigger places than little old Cloud Lake to settle in?” I pressed, not feeling like I was getting the whole answer.
He met my gaze, chewing his food. “I needed to get away from home. Portland. You know how it is to need to leave and go somewhere new?”
I did, only too well. Change my name, change my hair color, and get a new line of work. I nodded absently. “Not really,” I said convincingly.
“Well, I drove and drove, and ended up here to get gas. Stopped at the diner, had a burger, and saw an ad on the corkboard about a cabin for rent for the summer months. I grabbed it, called the owner, and here we are.” He motioned to the cabin behind us and the lake in front.
“It’s nice,” I said, my gaze lingering on the door where we’d first seen Martin turn on his lights, Grandma telling us the new retired neighbor liked fishing.
“You okay?” John asked as he poured us each a sweet tea, the glass flush with melting ice cubes.
“Fine. It’s too hot today.” I dabbed my forehead with a napkin and ate another quarter of a sandwich, this one egg salad. “Is it me, or is egg salad the world’s most suitable after-church lunch menu item ever?”
He laughed, picking one up. He turned it as if studying it with great interest. He was handsome, and the closeness to me didn’t go unnoticed. “I think you’re right. I didn’t know what possessed me to make this, but now I know! The Spirit of our Lord and Savior,” he said with a grin I didn’t match. “How about you, Eva? What are you doing in Cloud Lake?”
I decided to be half honest with him. I took a sip of the tea, finding it refreshing and exactly what I needed. The sugar coursed through me quickly. “Have you ever heard of the Brownstone Beat?”
“Is that some sort of music band? Sorry, I listen to country radio only,” he said.
“It’s an online magazine I work for. You heard the rumors about the lights in the sky, the alien visitors, the UFOs?”
His smile slipped away.
“Of course I have. I was in church today while Pastor Donnelly told us all the reasons not to believe in them.” He wiped a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek.
“And?”
“Do I believe it? Sure. I guess I do,” John said. “What are the chances we’re all alone in the universe? If we are, it’s pretty sad, because there’s no way humans are the best the big man upstairs has in his bag of tricks.”
It was a funny way of looking at it, one I didn’t think about often. “I’m writing a story about Cloud Lake and the history of the sightings. They date back forty years. Did you know that?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t. Some of these townsfolk are tight-lipped about a few things, but I did hear some drunk buffoons arguing about Grays at the Sticky Pig Pub a couple days ago. The things people will fight about.”
“What did they say?” I asked.
“One guy was saying they took someone’s brother. The brother denied it, claiming that his sibling was a loser, and probably got stuck in a culvert while hiding out from the sheriff or something dumb like that. And in classic small-town fighting over nothing, there were a couple punches thrown, but they broke it up pretty quick. I stayed at the bar, minding my own,” John said, as if this made him a saint.
That had to be Mark Fisher’s brother, the one the sheriff said was a lowlife druggie. “Did you catch the guy’s name?”
“Which one?” he asked.
“The one saying his brother wasn’t abducted.”
“No. Can’t say that I did,” he answered.
“What did he look like?”
John paused, looking at the lake glimmering in the sunlight. “Maybe an inch or two shorter than me, denim vest. Shaggy haircut. Has to be around thirty or so. I have a feeling he spends a lot of time at the bar, so if you’re hoping to interview him for your article, I suspect you’ll find him there.”
Things were looking up. I felt like I might have a story here after all. If I could tie in a drug and brawling backstory to the lights in the field, the inept old-school sheriff’s department, and crazy local farmers, there might be something worth the clicks Barns was hoping to get out of this one. He must have been banking on it, because why else would he send me all the way out here to expense a cabin rental, gas, food, and salary for a story like this?
I pulled out my phone and scribbled a few notes about Fisher, spending the next half hour or so talking with John. He told me about the lake: some things I already knew, some that I’d forgotten. When I was about to leave, he walked me to the car, and I could tell he wanted to tell me something. Or ask me something.
“Eva?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to be here for the big barn basher at the lake this Thursday?” His voice had a slightly hopeful edge to it, his gaze giving me enough of that playful glance he hadn’t quite hinted at yet.
“I don’t think so, but the way things are going, it may take me a little longer to sort through the growing list of people I need to talk with. Why, are you?” Obviously he was; why else would he have asked me? I’d originally planned on leaving by Tuesday, but that was the night the UFO troop was coming into town to gawk at the sky
and get eaten alive by bugs. Even if I could be done by then, I didn’t think I’d be ready to go in time to make it to the city by Thursday night.
What harm could staying another night or two really cause? Plus, Barns was paying, and if things were really crashing down like he’d told me, then I was going to be out of a job sooner rather than later. I might as well take advantage of the free cabin at the lake. I was loosening up, my breathing coming more freely than it had in a long time, and John was still staring at me with hopelessly soft brown eyes.
“I thought I’d check it out. Everyone says it’s the highlight of their year,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as if it was the most preposterous thing he’d heard in a while.
“If I’m here, I promise I’ll go,” I told him, entering my car. I rolled the window down, suddenly feeling powerful. “In the meantime, how about you come over for dinner tomorrow night?” I watched as his eyes widened slightly before he regained his composure.
“That would be… perfect.”
“Great. I’ll see you at six,” I said, and began to drive away.
“I don’t know where you’re staying,” he said.
“Cloud Lake Cabins, number ten.” I could hear my dad’s voice in my head, warning me away from giving my location away to a stranger, but John already felt like more than someone I’d just met. He’d also been at church, so my warning bells weren’t chiming.
He tapped the top of the car and smiled as I left, refraining from looking at Grandma’s old run-down cabin as I drove by.
I made my way to town, heading through Main Street. I stopped at the town’s main intersection and saw the same man that had swung by Buddy’s to pick up his dinner. He stepped in front of my car and glanced into my window. Those blue eyes locked with mine and threw a memory I had repressed into the forefront of my mind.
July 7th – 2001
We parked our bikes in front of Buddy’s Diner, and I latched mine to the metal rack with a chain lock. Zoe didn’t bother, and I rolled my eyes at her, knowing how pissed Dad would be if someone stole her bike.
Buddy’s was the only place in town to get food if you were a teenager. I had no doubt Zoe would be able to get into Sticky Pig Pub if she wore enough makeup, but she wasn’t brave enough to try something as dumb as that yet. I knew it wouldn’t be too long before the switch flipped in my sister.
Lights Over Cloud Lake Page 6