Laura helped Bit adjust the hood on her windbreaker, then did the same with her own. She popped up the umbrella, mainly to keep the book from getting wet.
“Race you to the house,” Bit challenged her mother.
Laura shook her head. “Too dangerous to run in the dark.”
Halfway down the trail, there was a rustling in the trees.
A pair of hands, swathed in shadows, quietly parted the bushes. But Laura and Bit did not notice.
Thirty-Seven
LAURA’S CELLPHONE WAS RINGING when they walked inside the house. Dripping wet, Laura ignored the phone while she hung up her raincoat and got out her wet boots. “Take off your wet clothes,” she said to Bit. “Hurry, so you won’t catch a cold.” Only then did it occur to Laura that she and Bit had left her Samsung behind.
“Mom, aren’t you going to answer your phone?” Bit shouted. “It might be Brad.”
“I know, honey,” Laura replied, “You just get upstairs and get into dry pajamas.”
Laura saw her brown purse on the dining room table, right where she'd left it. She hesitated while the phone continued to chime away inside the purse. She wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone and hear Brad’s voice. But she hesitated, fearful of what he might say if she should tell him where they’d been. At the last second, she dashed over to her purse, unsnapped it and picked up the phone.
She was a second too late—the line went dead the moment she pressed the “Talk” button.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
She pressed the “missed calls” button and saw the last three calls had been from Brad. The first one had come around six-thirty, about the time they left for Paul’s. The other two were spaced out in hour intervals.
She toyed with the thought of just not calling him back. That would take care of the problem of having to explain to him why she had been out that time of night. It was the “where” part she knew she’d have trouble with.
She punched his cell number anyway and waited while it rang.
This time she got through.
“My wandering wife returns,” Brad said on the other end, in a tone both cool and detached. “Where, might I ask, have you two been all evening? I’ve been calling for hours.”
She almost sank in despair. How could she honestly tell him where they’d been? If she even mentioned Paul’s name, there’d be another fight. Brad would never understand how innocent their visit to Paul’s had been. Could she really blame him?
“Oh, out walking,” she answered truthfully.
“Out walking?" came Brad’s cynical reply. "Gee, angel face, I admire your stamina, but, in that weather? I’ve been following the Weather Channel, and, from what I’ve been seeing, it looks nasty as hell up there in the high country.”
Laura thought hard. “It was nicer earlier,” she said. She closed her eyes, trying not to let on how desperately she was trying to avoid a fight. “We had coats and hats.” She then asked Brad when he was coming up.
“Soon,” is all she heard before a crackling noise cut him off.
A split second later the lights flickered, went off. “Brad, are you there?” she yelled into the phone.
“I’m here,” he shot back a few seconds later. “What was that?”
“The power just went off. It’s pitch black in the house.” She looked at Bit, who had come running down the stairs in the dark, and said, “Darling, go get Mommy the flashlight out of the top drawer in the kitchen. Be careful.”
Outside, a sharp snap of lightning lit up the black night. Rain started falling.
“Is that rain I hear?” Brad asked.
“Yes, it’s just started pouring.” While waiting for Bit to return with the flashlight, all the light she had was the digital flicker of her cellphone.
“Good thing you made it back in time.”
Laura gave a nervous laugh. “Bit has gone to get a flashlight. We're going to build a big fire and roast some marshmallows."
“Sounds like fun," Brad said in that same smug tone.
“It would be better if you were here. When are you coming back up?”
Brad paused, then asked, “Are you sure you want me to?”
“Of course I do.” She meant it, and she hoped her voice revealed her sincerity.
“Well, I’ve been thinking. Every time I’m gone, you become such a busy girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you have such a busy schedule. Out gallivanting around at all hours.”
“I wasn’t out gallivanting. Bit and I…just took a little walk.” Technically, she wasn’t lying. But she knew she would lie if she had to protect Paul, keep him out of the picture.
“Bullshit.” Brad’s voice was laced with utter contempt.
Laura thought about hanging up. She just didn’t know if she had it in her to withstand another brawl with Brad. Not right now, not with the lights out and a storm raging outside. She waited a few seconds before saying, “Brad, please don’t start that again. I just want you to get in the car first thing in the morning and drive up.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Of course, I’m sure. I...I wish you could leave right now. Bit and I are tired of being up here alone. We...we’ve missed you so much.”
More crackling noise on the line…
Laura waited, then said, “Brad, I didn’t know how to tell you this, but there have been some rather…strange things going on up here..."
The line faltered again before Brad's voice came back on: "Strange things? What kind of strange things?"
"It's hard to talk about over the phone. I just don't feel comfortable anymore up here by ourselves."
"You know, angel face, this might make a lot more sense to me if you could be a little more specific."
Laura hated it when Brad played with her. Sometimes it seemed as if he relished making her squirm. She wanted to tell him about the ghostly boys on the beach, the eerie footsteps on the deck, the run-in with the bear. She wanted to tell him about all those things and more, but held back. He'd only ridicule her, and there'd be no end to his sarcasm. “We’ve been having problems,” is all she said.
“What kind of problems?”
She broke down and told him about the bear.
“Were you hurt?”
“Yes…I mean no…I wasn't hurt, just a little...shaken," Laura knew she wasn’t making sense, but at least it was out in the open. In a faltering voice, she told him about her confrontation with the bear. "Oh, Brad, it was horrible. The thing could have killed me!"
"But it obviously didn't.”
More dripping sarcasm.
"Brad, didn't you hear a word I said? I almost got eaten by a bear. I was lucky this man came along and chased him off."
⸙
"NOW, I SEE," BRAD SIGHED. “Another man. How sweet. You know, Laura, I find it strange that my darling wife happens to be on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, but she keeps running into strange men. Who was it this time? Another hippie artist?”
Laura already regretted mentioning the bear. She fought back an urge to scream. “Brad, that man saved my life.” The line faded, made another crackling sound. “Brad, I think I’m losing you. I don’t know how much longer we have. Just tell me, when are you coming back?”
“Don’t worry,” Brad replied. His voice wavered as the connection continued to deteriorate. “I’ll be up soon." Before the line went dead, she heard him make one final crack. "I'm glad you're making so many friends up there without me...”
She turned off her phone, stared angrily at it for a moment, then dropped back inside her purse. She sat down in a kitchen chair, staring blankly into space. What kind of man would say such a thing to his wife? Certainly not the man she had married, not the man she loved.
Bit came in and handed the flashlight to Laura. “I finally found it.” When she noticed tears streaming down her mother’s face, she asked: “Mom, are you okay?”
Brushing back the tears, Laura stood up
and smiled. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m just fine.”
“But you’re crying.”
“Am I?" she laughed, recovering. "I’ll be all right in a minute.”
Bit cranked her head and said, “It's Brad, isn't it? Is he on his way up here?”
Laura gave a reassuring nod. “Yes, dear, it won’t be long now. He’ll be here real soon.”
“How soon?”
Laura felt the tears welling and struggled to hold them back. “I don’t know—maybe tomorrow morning.”
Bit looked disappointed. “I want to go home, Mom. I don't like this place anymore."
Chapter Thirty-Eight
IT WAS TIME TO go home.
During the night, Laura had decided that she and Bit would leave first thing in the morning. They’d get up early, pack their things and lock up the place. She figured they’d be gone before noon. When she went to Bit’s bedroom and told her about it, she agreed. Neither saw the point of staying at the lake house any longer. They’d rather spend Christmas vacation at home in Atlanta rather than having to contend with rampaging bears, phantom beachcombers, and mysterious, clanging bells in the middle of the night.
Besides, Bit was beginning to get homesick anyway. She looked forward to showing Anastasia her new home back in Atlanta.
After breakfast, Laura put on her raincoat, grabbed the car keys and went outside to the Jeep. When she unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel, she suddenly realized she hadn't been inside the vehicle since their arrival. It actually felt strange sitting there, running her hands over the leather console and along the dash.
Laura had thought about leaving a note for Paul, but decided there was not enough time. Right now, she had one burning desire—load up the Jeep and drive away from this place. She'd figure out a way to get in touch with Paul when she got back to Atlanta. After all the kindness he had showed her and Bit the past few days, she owed the young man that much. She wasn't sure what to do about Phyllis or Whit Anderson. She'd deal with them later.
While Bit finished packing, Laura had gone outside to start the Jeep, just to make sure the darn thing still worked. "Here goes," she said, sticking the key in the ignition.
She turned the key but nothing happened. Instead of the V-8 engine firing up with its familiar hum, she heard a strange clicking sound coming from under the hood.
She turned the key again. This time there was not even a clicking sound.
She tried the key several more times, but the results were the same each time.
Damn! She wondered what could be wrong.
Frustrated, she got out, popped the hood and looked at the motor. Everything looked fine, as far as she could tell. She saw wires and belts and plugs and rods and clear containers full of pink fluids. But who was she kidding? She knew absolutely nothing about cars.
"What's wrong, Mom? Bit asked. She stood on the front porch holding one of her suitcases. "Why's the hood up?"
Laura couldn't say anything for several seconds. Finally, leaning against the hood, she confessed, "The car won't start."
⸙
THEY WENT BACK INSIDE the house and unpacked. Neither spoke as they went from room to room putting their things away.
Laura sat down on the edge of her bed wondering what to do. She could try calling Brad again to come get them. That might be her only hope. But Laura would rather eat a bowl full of ten-penny nails. She recalled his harsh words about Paul, the unkind things he had said about Bit. The final straw was his snide and unfair response when she told him about Whit Anderson saving her from the bear.
“Damn you, Brad Drake!” she fumed.
She threw her bed down on the pillow and wept.
As she lay on the bed sobbing, she heard the familiar patter of rain against the window. She looked up in time to see a bolt of lightning streak down from an ominous black cloud, followed by a booming peal of thunder.
Damn these mountains, too.
How was all this possible? The phone was dead. The car wouldn't start. Her husband had turned into a jerk.
And now another storm.
It was as if she and Bit had fallen into some black hole at the far edge of the universe.
⸙
THEY HAD BEEN AT THE LAKE house over a week. Rummaging around the kitchen that afternoon, it occurred to Laura that she had not once been to the a grocery store in all that time.
Now they were running out of fresh food.
Goodness knows, there was plenty of canned goods and water. Brad’s brother Danny had seen to that with his stores of freeze-dried fruits and dehydrated veggies.
Laura smiled as she thought about what a "prepping fool" Danny had become in recent years. It was his belief that a melt-down of society loomed in the not-so-distant future, and it would be every man for himself. Here at the lake, he had built a specially-designed storage house next to the main house and stocked it with cases of bottled water, MRE’s, medical supplies, and enough guns and ammo to arm a sizeable Third World army. There were blankets, water purification systems, ropes, knives, and other survival items that might come in handy for Armageddon Day. Laura had never seen the inside of this fabled storage shed where he kept all that stuff, but Brad had bragged about the stash often.
But it was fresh food they needed---milk and bread, apples and oranges, potatoes and cooking oil—not canned meats and bottled water and AK-47s.
She had to figure out a way to get down to Greeley, that little town they had passed through on the way up to the lake. If she remembered correctly, it couldn’t be more than seven or eight miles back down the mountain. If push came to shove, she figured that she could walk that far.
Then she thought about the bear and decided a long hike back to town might not be the most prudent option.
She'd go check out the storage room.
⸙
BIT SAT ON THE ROCKS, watching the birds swoop down and snatch fish from the clear green waters of the lake. Squawking and shrieking, the little winged thieves would carry their meals high into the air to feed, then plunge straight down for another bite.
“Silly birds,” she said to Anastasia and Teddy, who both perched on her lap. “They can’t decide if they’re birds or fish.”
Bit grew tired of the performance. Clutching Teddy and Anastasia to her chest, she got up and started clambering across the undulating pile of sharp-edged rocks. She knew she wasn't supposed to be out on the rocks by herself because they were dangerous. But it was so much fun. Besides, she was tired of being cooped up in the house anyway waiting on Brad to come get them—or until Mom could figure out a way to get the Jeep started. It was time she went out exploring on her own.
Humming, she worked her way across the jagged rocks, still wet and slippery from rain earlier that morning. She came to a flat ledge and slipped. She landed on her knees, skinning one and dropping Teddy into a narrow crevice. Trying not to cry, she rubbed her bleeding knee with one hand and bent over and tried to reach Teddy with the other. He wasn't far—only inches beyond her outstretched fingers. “Come on, Teddy,” she begged, fighting back tears while reaching in for Teddy. “I can’t go back to the house without you.”
But Teddy remained stuck, several inches out of reach.
She swung her skinned leg around to gain better support, stretched down as far as she could. “Come on, Teddy, please,” she whimpered.
Her fingertips continued to dangle a couple of inches away from Teddy’s fuzzy ears.
There was only one way to rescue Teddy, and that was to lean over and somehow forced her arm all the way down. That way she could grab him by the ear and pull him up.
Locking her knees around the rock for support, Bit reached in as far as possible. In doing so, the support rock shifted and her ankle slid into a tight space between two slabs. When she tried to pull it out she discovered it was stuck—wedged between the pair of unyielding slabs. She tried shoving the rocks, but no matter how hard she yanked and pulled, the rocks wouldn't budge.
She glanced toward t
he house. She wanted to call for help, but knew how upset her mom would be at her for being out on the rocks in the first place.
How was she ever going to get out of this mess?
She began to sob.
She was still sobbing when she heard a voice say, "I kin help you, if'n you'd like."
She looked up and saw a boy standing over her. He was about eleven, a little older than her. He had a thin, smooth face and wore old-fashioned clothes that looked like they could have come straight out of a museum. Bit was surprised to see that the boy was barefooted.
"What did you say?" she asked the boy.
"Want me to hep you or not?" the boy replied. He spoke again in a strange dialect Bit had never heard.
But this time she understood and nodded. "What's your name?" she asked.
“Mason. What’s yorn?”
“Beatrice Drake. But you can call me Bit.”
“Bit.” The boy chuckled. “That’s a right peculiar name.”
“No it’s not.”
The boy had nice, bright eyes, but Bit thought he looked sad. “Well, I ain't got all day, Bit. I reckon you need to move back a little so's I kin git down there at it."
When she leaned back, the boy named Mason reached down, grabbed her ankle and gently worked it out. Then, still squatting on the rocks, he reached his long arms down and wriggled Teddy out. He held it in his hands a moment before handing it to her. “What in tarnation's this thang?”
“It’s my teddy bear,” Bit replied. “His name is Teddy.” She held up the other doll for him to see. “This is Anastasia. She came all the way from Paris, France.”
The boy’s eyes seemed to glow at the sight of the doll. “That shore is a fancy little doll,” the boy said, touching Anastasia with a finger. “I bet my sister would like it a bunch.”
“You have a sister?”
“Shore do. Have two uv ‘em. And a brother.”
“Where do they live?”
A great sadness seemed to take possession of the boy. He lowered his head and looked away.
The People in the Lake Page 18