She smiled. “I’m the Head Councillor, and that puts me in charge of a few things, one of them the annual summer event.”
“And how long have you been a resident of Cloud Lake?” I asked.
She smiled again. “My whole life. Born and bred.”
“So you’ve been to a lot of these Kick-Offs, then?”
“Probably all of them. My parents took us every year. It was the best time of our summer.”
“What do you like best about the event?” I asked.
Caroline’s posture changed. She relaxed, and I pretended to make notes, tapping nonsense on the screen. “The ambiance. We’ve added some features – live music, parasailing, hot-dog eating contests – but the one thing that’s always the same are the smells. That scent you get in a crowd when it’s hot, near the water, motorboats in full swing on the open water, music playing, kids laughing and playing. It’s the best thing in the world, and I’m so blessed to be able to run this now, and share my passion for it with the next generation.”
I looked around her desk for picture frames. “Do you have children of your own?” The question might have been a little awkward, but I always talked about kids as an icebreaker.
“I have two. Dane is five and Holly is two,” she said, beaming the entire time. “And you?”
I shook my head and lowered my gaze, not saying a word, as if implying I couldn’t have them. It was my way of stopping the questioning about why a woman in her thirties wouldn’t want the miracle of life. I pressed on. “Can you tell me how the event is funded?” I asked, not caring in the least. It was something a member of the town council would be obligated to tell me about, and it would help disarm her.
She talked for five minutes, citing various fundraisers and private donations they did throughout the year to fund events, and how they relied on volunteers for a lot of it. I made more fake notes, smiling as I did so.
“Why are you having it on a Thursday instead of a Friday this year?” I asked.
“It’s grown so much, we decided to add a second day. With the local musicians filling the stages, and so many people coming through on one day, it made a lot of sense to add the extra day. Twice the fun,” she said with an exaggerated smile.
It was time to shift gears. “How do you feel about continuing the event after the disappearance of three of the town’s residents?”
She looked taken aback but probably knew I was just doing my due diligence. She remained fairly poised, and I liked her more for it. “Well, as you might not know, Carly Miller has been found safe, and she’s now at home with her family recovering.”
“I’ve heard.”
“And word just came in they’ve found a body at the far corner of the lake.”
Word came quickly to the town office, but it made sense, considering a farmer had told the entire diner only a half hour ago. “Who do they think it is?” I asked.
“Mark Fisher,” she answered.
“The missing man? How do they know?” I asked, actually surprised by the news.
“Tattoo. He had a fishhook on his arm, big one with his ex’s name down the side of the barb. Apparently, the body has the same tattoo,” she said.
I lost my train of thought. I don’t know what I’d expected to have befallen the man. The sheriff and Mark’s own brother suspected foul play. Had I really thought it could have been anything but?
“Will that affect the event?” I asked her, and she shook her head in response.
“No. The beach is four miles from there. No reason to stop it. Now that the loose ends are tied up, we can move on,” Caroline said.
“Tied up? You have a dead body and a girl who was abducted by someone, with no answers on either case,” I told her, my voice growing louder than intended.
“That’s for Sheriff McCrae and his team to handle, and I suspect they will.”
“They sound like a good department. What about all these rumors around town?” I tried to read her expression as I asked the question.
“Which ones?”
“I think you know.” I laughed lightly.
“The UFOs?”
I shrugged. “You bet.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life, and have never once seen anything out of the ordinary.”
“But? I sense a but,” I told her.
“But… a few people I admire and trust have claimed to be witnesses to some strange occurrences.”
I leaned toward the desk and flipped my tablet on its face, into my lap. “Strange occurrences?”
“Lights. Flashing lights. Farmers claiming animals have vanished in the middle of the night. People disappearing with no recollection of where they were,” she admitted.
“And what do you think it is?” I asked her.
“I think it’s electrical storms, and maybe some mental imbalances. Could be diet-related. Maybe their well water has too much lead. I really don’t know,” Caroline said, tapping her pen open and closed against the desktop.
“So you don’t believe in life from other planets visiting you here in Cloud Lake?” I asked.
She looked at the recording device and smiled at me. “No. I don’t believe in aliens or UFOs. Do you have any further questions regarding the Kick-Off?”
“No, I think we’ve got it all,” I said, and stood up. We shook hands, hers warm to my always cool touch.
“Will we see you there?” Caroline smiled widely, actually seeming to want me there.
“You will. I’m going to be there to witness the whole thing. I like the idea of the sounds and smells, and will try to soak up the vibe you were explaining. Thank you for meeting with me, Caroline. It was really nice to meet you,” I said.
“You too. Enjoy the rest of your time in Cloud Lake, Miss Heart.”
I walked by the closed offices and past the young bubbly girl, who I told to have a great day. I walked the few blocks to the diner where my car was waiting, thinking about Mark’s body being located. My mind drifted to Carly. Would they make her go under hypnosis like they had me? Would they find her results as confusing and terrifying as mine? I wished I could stay here to find out, but it wasn’t my place to pry. Plus, I had her email.
I could still remember the look of horror on the therapist’s face after my first session. Dad had changed after that day. He’d started walking on eggshells even more, and when he wasn’t being fake kind to me, he was angrier in all other parts of his life. At the time, I wished I could have given them what they were after. They wanted me to explain being taken, being trapped in a room somewhere, they wanted evidence and my conviction of the man arrested for my abduction, but I couldn’t give them that, and neither could my subconscious.
The diner was nearly empty when I arrived at my car. It was three in the afternoon, that magical witching hour that allowed restaurants to switch workers, and to prep for dinner service. To clean the tables and have a smoke break. I saw a thick man in a white apron in the alley, talking loudly on his phone while puffing away at a cigarette.
Isabelle was inside, sitting at a table, drinking a coffee and reading the paper. I waved at her, and she smiled gingerly, a bone-tired look on the hard-working woman’s face.
Once I made it to my car, I checked my phone, startled to see Harry had already replied. I opened the email and read it.
Eva,
This place is bonkers without you. It’s like there’s no one to talk to, at least no one sane. Barns is losing his shit. I went to talk to him about the magazine, and he tossed a stapler at me, telling me I’d never have had the job if my dad hadn’t bribed him into hiring me. Needless to say, I’m looking for work… actually, that’s what I’m doing right now, on company time. Lol.
Good to hear the story is going well. It may be your last. I brought you up to Barns and he was pissed, his face turned red and he told me to get out of his office. What happened? Did you talk to him or tell him off or something?
Anyway. I’m going to expedite a few more résumés and hit the gym. I’ll run off
any frustrations I have with my uncle. Hope you’re having fun at Sun Pond, or whatever it’s called. Don’t forget bug spray!
Talk soon,
Harry
I scrolled up, trying to understand what Barns was so upset about. I knew he was probably being forced to call it quits, but I was determined to finish this piece and move on when I returned. I had the urge to call Barns and went to my contact list, finding his name and number. My finger hovered over the icon, but I exited out, not wanting to deal with his crap at that moment. I needed to get ready for the night’s festivities.
Clark had told me not to worry about the food, but I decided to stop at the store to pick up a few drinks and snacks. It wouldn’t hurt for me to bring offerings to the other sky watchers, to start off on the right foot. I hit the market for the second time that week and grabbed far too many beverages: pop, wine, beer, and a Styrofoam cooler with four bags of ice to keep it all cold. The rest of the cart filled up with various chips and pretzels, and when I knew I’d overdone it, I checked out and had the teenage kid load the stuff into my back seat.
It was four by the time I made it to the cabin one last time, to change and make sure I didn’t forget anything. Some of the families were already setting up for the evening, and I could smell food being cooked even at this early hour. Dan’s truck was noticeably missing, and I decided I should check on Clare. I hadn’t seen her since John had come over, and I couldn’t help but worry about the woman. Her moods were all over the place, and Dan had “abusive husband” written all over his face.
“Clare?” I called as I rounded the cabin, and I noticed her by the water. The Cloud Lake Cabins had one long dock with various canoes tethered to it. They bumped the wooden dock lightly as the waves bounced them around.
Clare was at the end, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t even look up when I arrived. She had a bottle of wine in her hand, and it was almost empty. Her nose was red: a combination of too much drink and sun. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like to drown?” she asked.
I didn’t know what to say. “No, I don’t.”
“I do. All the time. I think it’s the best way to go. You’re surrounded by it, the water means you no harm, it just envelops your body in a brutal hug, every square inch of you is covered, and that’s not enough. It needs inside you. It needs to slide into your mouth and down your throat. It needs to fill your stomach, and most importantly, your lungs. Water isn’t evil. But it kills so many people. That I can understand. Water, I get.” Clare lifted the bottle to her lips and tilted her head back. The remaining red wine flowed, and she dropped the bottle to the dock. It flipped to its side and rolled off into the water with a splash.
“Clare, I think you should go to your cabin. Maybe have a nap,” I suggested.
“I’ve slept enough, Eva. I’ve slept enough. I feel like my eyes are open for the first time in years,” she said, and I saw the glint of the steel beside her.
“What’s that for?” I asked, knowing full well it was either meant for her or her husband.
“Protection. I didn’t want to be out here by myself, and Dan can’t understand that. He leaves me alone at this cabin day and night, just like every town we go to, and I’ve had it up to here.” She lifted her arm high above her head, her hand flat, making a line in the air, a unit of an unmeasurable portion.
She pulled a small plastic pill bottle from her pocket, popped off the cap, and placed it in her mouth, swallowing in a gesture that told me she was used to it. I would know. I hadn’t had one of my pills today, but still felt I could manage. Dealing with Clare now made me regret my choice not to medicate. Her energy was unnerving, and I couldn’t become caught up in her sweeping emotions.
“What are those?” I asked, holding my hand out.
“Why not take one? Dulls that edge we all get,” she said, passing the vial to me.
I flipped it around, reading the label. Vicodin. Take one tablet every four hours as needed for pain. Janice Quinn.
They clearly weren’t hers. “Where did you find these?” I asked her.
Clare’s glassy eyes slowly glanced over to me. “They were in the cabin.”
I didn’t believe her, not one bit. “How many have you had?” She was looking worse for wear, and I thought that probably hadn’t been her first bottle of wine either.
“Don’t worry about me, honey. I’ll be fine. It’s just another Saturday for old Clarabelle,” she said, and I wondered if that was even her name.
“It’s Tuesday,” I corrected her.
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” She laughed, and gone was the morose, death-enthralled woman. She was replaced by happy Clare, the one who drank too much wine, had too much sun, and enjoyed popping some pills to, as she said, dull the edge.
“Come to the cabin. I need to use the bathroom and pour a drink,” I said, knowing the second ticket item would get her attention.
“Sounds good. Do you want to play cribbage?” she asked, her words slurring deeply.
“As long as you don’t mind being skunked,” I said, helping her up. She took a step toward the shore, her bare feet slapping against the graying wooden slats.
I let go of her arm, and she nearly fell sideways. I caught her, and she leaned into me, laughing at the motion. I didn’t know what to do. Did I leave her in her own place for Dan to come and find her, or would it be safer for her in my cabin? That would open up all sorts of other issues, and I really didn’t want them inside my cabin snooping through my things. I didn’t know Clare. The woman seemed friendly enough, but she was trouble. Still, no one deserved to be abused.
We made it to the beach, then up the small stone pathway leading between our cabins. Clare steered me to her place, and I didn’t stop her. She opened the door and I stepped inside. It was messy; not overly dirty, just disheveled. Dan’s shirts hung from the kitchen chairs. Dishes piled in the sink, and the garbage was overflowing.
Clare went to the kitchen, and I poured her some water, pushing it into her hand. She glanced up at me with a thick sadness in her eyes. I nodded; a look that told her ‘I know, it’ll be okay’. She smiled, and I led her to her bedroom. I removed a sprawled-out dress and a bathrobe, draping them over the dresser, and Clare flopped down face-first into the pillows. I turned her and stroked her hair.
“I’ll help you if you want,” I told her. It was a promise, and I meant it. “We’ll talk before I leave. I will help you.”
She mumbled something and drifted off, already snoring lightly, her lips half an inch apart. She looked younger there in the dim bedroom, the curtains closed. It could have been midnight inside that room, and I watched her sleep for a few minutes, wishing there was something I could do.
I glanced at the clock, realizing it was after five. I also didn’t want to be here when Dan came home. I had no idea if he was violent, or what he would do if he found me inside their place. Leaving her here alone was difficult.
After a quick change at my place, I was ready to go in sneakers, jeans, and a sweatshirt. I grabbed the umbrella in a basket by the exit and threw it into the backseat before heading for Henry’s farmland. I had the map he’d drawn on the reverse of his feed store flyer, and headed out, ready for my very first Alien Adventure evening.
__________
I immediately knew which turnoff to take, but there were also helpful cardboard signs pegged into the roadside, with arrows pointing to the long gravel driveway. Henry had a picturesque farm, cornfields with old rooted trees behind them. Between his home and the fields was at least three acres of grass: a massive yard. I imagined Henry out there himself on a riding mower, chewing sunflower seeds and wearing protective ear-muffs for the sound.
The corn stalks were extraordinary, taller than the others I’d driven by, and I assumed Henry, being the owner of the town’s only farming store, had access to the best fertilizers at a low cost.
Already there were rows of tents set up, and I pulled up to a line of seven various vehicles. The second I parked beside an
old mid-nineties pickup, someone honked behind me. Clark was there, pulling his trailer behind his work truck.
It was insufferably hot now that the clouds had dissipated and drifted away. The recent moisture added to the heat, making it muggy, and I immediately sloughed off my sweatshirt, setting it aside for later.
The group of people were gathered around one man, and they created space for me as I approached. The man was Oscar Neville, the spitting image of his backflap picture from the book, only fast-forwarded ten years. He was a little whiter-haired, heavier, and more desperate.
He was performing roll-call, and when he got through the ensemble cast, his eyes lingered on me.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t see you on my registration list?” He made it a question.
“Sorry, I only heard of it a couple days ago. Is it okay if I join and pay the fee?” I asked, trying to sound like a happy-go-lucky woman.
“Of course, of course. The rest of you, get settled, and we’ll meet up in ten minutes for the first part,” Oscar said. The group meandered away before I could meet any of them, and Oscar pulled me to the side. I had a lot of questions for him, especially since he’d been so vocal about my case, even though I hadn’t discovered this until I found his obscure book.
“Can you fill this waiver out?” He pulled a clipboard from his van, which turned out to be a rusted Econoline with Alien Adventures stickered on the side. Both A’s were peeling off, the red color worn to a burnt orange.
I filled in my name, Eva Heart, made up a local address, and gave my secondary email account.
“Sign here.” He pointed to a missed page full of paragraph blocks.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Just lawyer-speak, mumbo jumbo. Basically says you can’t sue me if you’re abducted by aliens, or if you stare at the UFO lights too long, that kind of thing,” he said, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes and sign it Minnie Mouse. I used my Eva signature and drew a heart over my last name for emphasis.
“Thank you,” he read the name, “Eva. Now there’s just the matter of the fee. Normally it’s only one hundred dollars, but because we have to make room, and there’s the fee to Henry per head, and the food…”
Lights Over Cloud Lake Page 16