The People in the Lake

by E Randall Floyd

  Bit gave a half-hearted nod. "Will you go with us?"

  Laura felt a familiar cold rush of panic. "You mean out on the water? Darling, you know how Mommy feels about the water."

  "I forgot. It's okay, Mom. "

  Laura took a deep breath and soon felt her panic going away. “By the way, I was going to take a little walk through the woods this morning. Would you like to come along? Maybe we can find some blueberries.”

  Bit shook her head. “I think I’ll stay here and play with Anastasia and Teddy.”

  “Are you sure?"

  Bit nodded.

  "Okay,” Laura said, smiling. She patted her daughter on the hand. “I won’t be gone long. You remember the rules, don’t you?”

  Bit nodded, then went back to playing with her dolls.

  Laura got up and put on her coat and scarf. "No going outside, remember? And be sure to keep the door locked while I'm out, okay, sweetheart?"

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Laura went outside and locked the door behind her. She checked the lock twice before throwing the scarf around her neck and setting off for the woods.

  Twenty-Six

  AN UNNATURALLY WARM BREEZE stirred through the tall trees, prompting Laura to shed her scarf and jacket. She wrapped them both snugly around her waist and soon found herself bounding down a narrow leafy path.

  She took a different trail this time, one that split away from the main path to Phyllis’s house. Not much was different—except it seemed like the trees grew taller and thicker along this fork and the bushes wilder and heavier. At times, the limbs appeared to interlock overhead, almost like supporting arches in a cathedral, creating a tunnel effect. The cluster became so thick and claustrophobic in some places, Laura almost turned around.

  But she trudged on, mindful of the growing shadows and intensifying gloom. The deeper she plunged into this part of the forest, the greater was the feeling that she had vanished into some dark and mysterious emerald kingdom.

  Laura didn't know where the hell she was going. She just knew she had to get away from the house a few minutes, breath some fresh air and clear her head of that bruising battle with Brad. His harsh words and accusations still hurt.

  She hoped the walk would help put all that behind her.

  The path twisted and coiled through the woods, gradually becoming steeper and more rugged as she clomped deeper into the wild, shadow-haunted forest. In places, it was so thick and brambly she found it easy to imagine herself wandering through some fantastic, fairy-tale forest of old. She told herself this is what it must have looked like for the ancient Cherokees who once roamed these solitary glades.

  The December warmth was exhilarating but weird. Normally this time of year there would be snow on the ground. She was no meteorologist, but she figured the recent rains had kept the temperatures in this part of the high country well above average. Thin beads of perspiration trickled down her cheeks as she plucked along, aimlessly savoring the sweet smells of the forest, the freedom of just being alone outdoors. She felt guilty about leaving Bit by herself back at the house, but she figured her daughter would be safe as long as she wasn't gone too long.

  Laura came alive as she walked, sensing the flow of blood surging through her long legs as she propelled herself deeper and deeper into the trackless gloom.

  Mountain forests in winter usually meant gray muck and gloom, bare thistles and leafless branches swaying and cracking in chill winds sweeping down from higher ranges. But here, on the backside of the Chattahoochee National Forest, the woods seemed to rise up in full defiance of Mother Nature, thick and fluffy green. Laura was struck by the riot of colors that greeted her at every turn—dazzling pink and white laurel and rhododendron, lacy clusters of blue galax, Fire Pinks and Phlox, flaming mosses and wildflowers of every imaginable description and hue. She was no expert in plant life, but had read somewhere that this region of the Southern Blue Ridge Mountains was a botanist's paradise, the South's answer to the Garden of Eden.

  She couldn’t get her mind off Brad. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the raw evil she had confronted in her husband’s eyes, the dark fury in his voice. Where had that come from? They had argued before, yes, but never had she seen him come so unglued. The level of hatred that blazed forth from Brad had left her rattled, unable to think clearly. In the past, whenever they had quarreled, Brad had always been the first to make up. He'd usually seal it with a kiss or initiate a round of hot sex before going to sleep. Not once in all the years of their marriage had he left the house angry.

  She rounded a bushy bend and came to a small clearing. Beneath the massive, outstretched arms of a giant hemlock, she noticed an old-fashioned iron fence, black and rusty in the leaf-cluttered shade. The fence, which had collapsed in places, was mostly overgrown with weeds and choked with mold and lichen. Looking closer, Laura saw that it surrounded what appeared to be a couple dozen old graves, maybe more, marked by blackened and broken tombstones. Another giant tree, this one an enormous, twisting oak, loomed in the middle of the little cemetery, its enormous canopy of branches spreading protectively over the sunken rows of sleeping dead.

  She stopped. The last thing she had expected to find was a cemetery in the middle of the forest.

  ⸙

  CURIOUS, LAURA PUSHED at the gate. It took a couple of tries, but she finally managed to crank it back on its corroded hinges. She stepped inside the tiny graveyard and looked around, mindful of the potted graves and fragile old stones at her feet. She felt strange standing there, as if she were somehow violating the sacred sanctity of this quiet little place shrouded in shadows.

  She moved slowly among the graves, careful of the briars and brambles that grabbed at her feet. She came to one grave and stopped. Bending down, she brushed away dirt and cobwebs to read the inscription. The words were badly chipped and faded, but she was able to make out a couple of lines: "...called to God on this day...November 13, 1975..." She stepped backward for a better look and felt something crunch under the weight of her foot. Looking down, she saw a small rock slab. Carved on the granite marker was the single word "Chaney."

  ⸙

  SOMETHING IN THE woods stirred behind her. It rustled through the bushes, a black, lumbering form, grunting and snorting.

  Laura’s heart sank when she heard the noise. Only one animal in the wild made a sound like that—a bear.

  "Oh, no, not again," she moaned, eyes widening with terror.

  She walked quietly away from the cemetery, pushed the iron gate shut behind her. She started back up the trail, lowly at first, then moving faster.

  She hadn't gone twenty yards when she heard that same sound again. She froze, glanced over her shoulders.

  Nothing.

  She kept moving.

  The woods suddenly grew darker, thicker, looming all around her like a furry, green mantel, an unforgiving mass of shadows and creaking sounds. Strangely absent were the normal sounds of the forest—birds chirping, the chatter of squirrels, the buzz of insects. She found it odd that a forest could be so quiet. Is that what happened before a bear charged?

  As she backed slowly away from the old cemetery, she found herself glancing around, as if searching for the perfect tree to climb should a bear suddenly come charging out of the brush toward her. Then she remembered Phyllis telling her that black bears were excellent tree climbers themselves. What about fighting back? Were bears really cowardly creatures that would turn tail and run if you stood your ground and yelled at them loud enough?

  Maybe she should just run, like she did before. The house couldn't be more than a quarter mile up the path. But was she fast enough to outrun a determined bear?

  Cold fear settled over her like an icy pall as she continued up the trail, fists drawn and tight, waiting.

  She didn't have to wait long.

  ⸙

  THE BLACK CREATURE came thrashing out of the bushes straight toward her, drooling, roaring, its massive head swinging from side to side. When L
aura spun around and saw the bear, she felt the ground fall from beneath her feet.

  She saw the thing lumbering closer, its gaping mouth open and revealing long, terrible teeth and voluminous globs of white slobber. But it was the thing's eyes that terrified her most. They bulged from the creature's wide, bristling face like lumps of midnight coal, glinting and focused directly at her. Suddenly the great beast stopped, rose on its hind quarters and roared.

  All hope gone, Laura collapsed to her knees and waited.

  From out of nowhere, a man sprang into the clearing, shouting and waving his arms at the charging beast. “Go on, get from here, scoot!” the man yelled.

  The bear paused, gave a confused look at the man, then dropped to its all-fours and wobbled away into the woods.

  “That’s it! Go, get away from here!”

  When Laura stopped quaking and looked up, she recognized her savior. It was the handsome man she had met at the little country store outside Dahlonega. The doctor with the Florida license plates. The green Jaguar XKE. What was his name? Whit…Whit something.

  He rushed over to Laura and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked, steadying her.

  “I…I think so,” Laura whimpered, unable to stop shaking.

  Whit tilted her head back and examined her eyes. When Laura flinched, he smiled and said, “It’s all right, I'm a doctor. Really.”

  “I know,” Laura replied.

  Whit back. “How? Does it show that much?”

  Laura managed to smile. “I saw your license plates. That day, back at the little store.”

  Whit laughed. “That’s always a dead giveaway.” He brushed his hands off. "That was a close call, Mrs. Drake, correct?"

  "You remembered."

  "Of course. How could I ever forget the name of someone as beautiful as you? I'm Whit Anderson, in case you forgot."

  Laura felt herself blushing. "How can I ever thank you? If you hadn't got here when you did..."

  He cut her off with a reassuring smile. "You were never in any real danger. I think that old boy was just trying to scare you."

  "Well, he succeeded."

  Whit seized her forearm and felt her pulse. “No harm done." He patted her arm. "I think you're good to go. Just to be safe, however, I suggest you let me escort you back to wherever you came from. Any objections?"

  “I’d be delighted.”

  As they walked along the path, Laura turned to the doctor and asked, “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “The bear. Scare him away like that. It was like he was terrified of you or something.”

  Whit threw back his head laughed. “An old trick I learned in medical school a long time ago,” he joked. Then: “Come on, let’s get out of here before he decides to come back with his big brother.”

  ⸙

  "NICE PLACE," WHIT MUTTERED as he walked Laura up the steps to the front door.

  "We're just borrowing it a few weeks. It belongs to my brother-in-law, Danny Drake."

  "I remember you telling me that earlier."

  "Won't you come in for a cup of tea? I need to go inside and check on my daughter."

  "Thanks, but I really should be going."

  "Will you be all right? I mean, do you think the bear might come back?"

  "Not likely. We probably spooked him away from this part of the forest for a while. Still, if I were you, I'd stay out of that part of the woods for a couple of days.”

  “Don’t worry,” Laura said. “I’m not going to leave this house.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t want to say that. Staying cooped up in the house would ruin your vacation.”

  “A better idea might be to just pack up and go back to Atlanta.”

  “That would be a shame,” Whit said, a trace of remorse in his rich, smooth voice. He probed Laura’s eyes with his own. “It isn’t every day that someone like you comes up here to the sticks. Heck, it isn't every day that I get to rescue a damsel in distress as breathtakingly gorgeous as you."

  Laura felt something flutter deep inside. Was the doctor making a pass at her? She felt the best course of action was to head it off in a hurry. “You’re a nice man,” she said gently. “And I really want to thank you for saving my life, but I'm married, remember?”

  Whit leaned forward. “I remember.” He stared deep into her eyes before exhaling painfully. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, where exactly is that lucky husband of yours? Isn’t he up here with you?”

  Laura explained that Brad was away on business but would soon be joining them.

  “I can’t imagine leaving someone as infuriatingly beautiful as you alone up here in the mountains.” He continued to probe Laura’s eyes with his own. “If you don’t mind my saying this, if you were my wife, I wouldn't let you out of my sight.”

  Laura squirmed before Whit’s relentless stare. “That’s a nice thing to say, but it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  “I am sorry,” Whit said, genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t mean it to sound quite like that—like I was trying to come on to you.”

  Laura looked away, drawn toward a pair of white birds flapping low over the lake. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re a very kind man. You’re my hero, how can I ever pay you back?”

  Whit bent forward and gave Laura a quick kiss on her forehead. “That’s my reward,” he said warmly. He straightened, looked around. “Hey, where’s the little girl—Bit, right?”

  “That’s right,” Laura replied, impressed by the doctor’s memory. “Probably inside playing with her dolls.”

  “Should we check on her?”

  “I’m sure she’s all right,” Laura asserted. Thinking fast, she said, “Dr. Anderson, I’ve probably taken up far too much of your time.”

  Whit took a step closer to Laura. “Nonsense. And it’s Whit, remember?”

  Laura pulled back. “Whit…don’t,” she said firmly.

  Whit lowered his head, almost embarrassed. “I know,” he said, backing away. A boyish grin spread across his face. “I’m sorry, Laura, I just couldn’t resist. Will you please forgive me?”

  Laura let it go. “What about you? A handsome man like you, Don’t you have a wife?”

  The doctor fell silent, looked away. Laura sensed a great sadness come over him. "I had a wife once. Her name was Shirley. She died a long time ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Whit waited a moment before saying, “To be honest with you, I can’t even remember what she felt like—you know, in the dark, with her skin next to mine.” He seemed to drift worlds away before coming back. “She's in a better place now."

  “What about your medical practice?”

  “I no longer practice,” Whit explained. He stuck his hands in his pocket. “Down in Miami, it got to the point where all I was doing was tending lost souls, saving lives that no longer had a place in this world. That’s why I moved up here after Shirley died. To get away from all that sadness. All that death.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Used to run a little country clinic down in Greeley. Spent every dime I had on that little place, but I’d like to think I did a lot of good up here until…"

  He suddenly paused, unable to finish the sentence. A strange light seemed to fill the handsome doctor’s eyes.

  “Until what?” Laura asked.

  The light faded as quickly as it had come over him. "That was all in the past...a really long time ago” He brightened. “My home is here now, Dr. Whit Anderson, at your service, ma’am."

  Laura smiled. "It sounds like you did the right thing."

  Whit held up his hands. "What can I say? You know it's time to retire when you can no longer serve the people you care about.”

  He backed away, gazed up at the blue sky. In the bright light Laura thought he looked even more handsome than he had standing outside that little store in the pouring rain. A little on the pale side, but quite a hunk, nevertheless.

  “I better get going,” he said. “I’ve g
ot a long hike ahead of me.” He flashed her a smile warm enough to melt icicles. “You take care."

  "Hope I’ll see you again before we go back to Atlanta.”

  "I'm sure you will."

  Laura watched him walk down the steps and start across the yard.

  He had already disappeared in the woods before it occurred to Laura that she didn’t even know where he lived.

  Or how he happened to be on the trail when the bear attacked her.

  Twenty-Seven

  AFTER DINNER, Laura went upstairs to her bedroom, found her cell phone in the bottom of her purse and pressed the “Missed Calls” button. She sighed when "0" came up on the blank screen. Where are you Brad Drake? She knew the chances of getting a signal was zero, but she punched Brad's number anyway. The “Searching” light flashed for several seconds before the dreaded “No Signal” notice came on.

  She wanted to cry.

  Instead, she dropped the phone back inside her purse and sat down on the bed.

  What should she do? Should she swallow her pride and go running back to Atlanta and beg Brad’s forgiveness? Or should she just stay put up here with Bit through Christmas as planned?

  Deep down, Laura didn’t much look forward to staying another two weeks alone up here without Brad. In fact, she was beginning more and more to dread the prospect of spending another night alone in this house—especially if another winter storm blew in.

  Laura walked over to the window and gazed out across the lake. So beautiful out there, so serene and sad and ever so lonely...

  Twilight was fading fast. The first long shadows of dusk were starting to creep and crawl over the woods. It would be dark soon. She rubbed her arms, feeling a sudden chill.