Nightingale Songs

by Strantzas, Simon

  The bedroom had a stale smell, as though unused for a long period of time, and Liam tried to open the window but it would not budge. He leaned into it and heaved as the rough wood bit into his fingers, but nothing happened. He inspected the frame closely. It had been nailed shut.

  "What's with that?" Ken said as he poured a drink. "Complain. Tear them a new one. That's the stupid thing I've heard. You should have them fix it tomorrow. Assuming you don't suffocate to death tonight."

  Liam had finally gone over to meet with the others, and the four of them sat around a small wooden table. Ken and Halley's cabin was the mirror image of the one he had just left.

  "It doesn't make sense. The nails looked old, though. They've probably been there a while."

  "I think you should say something," Halley said; she was leaning forward, her legs crossed tightly, trying to minimize her contact with the couch. "Why don't you go over to the main house now?"

  Liam ran his fingers through his hair. "No, I'd better go tomorrow. The daylight is almost gone, and I've already had enough trouble following those stupid blue rocks."

  "So, we're just going to suffocate, then?"

  "Relax, Marcia. It's only for one night. It'll get fixed tomorrow," Liam said, and Marcia set her jaw and stared into her tea. Halley and Ken snuck a glance at each other that Liam couldn't read, and he found himself wishing he had remained in the other cabin.

  The group stayed that way for an unbearable amount of time, each person waiting for another to speak. Finally, Ken broke. "So," he said. "Does anybody know what we should do tonight?"

  "This was your idea, Darling. We were relying on you to lead the way."

  "I don't know. Tim wasn't very clear about what he and his wife did while they were here. It was their honeymoon, though, so I can take a guess." Ken grinned wide, and his head bobbed as it visited every face at the table in turn. Liam smiled politely; Marcia's expression did not change. "I don't think they got out much."

  "It's too bad no one went to the main cabin. I saw an activity board there," Marcia said. All eyes turned to her, but she did not look past her tea. Liam was unsure of what to say, of how to proceed.

  "I suppose," he said. Marcia spoke again.

  "Maybe we should turn in, take advantage of the day tomorrow."

  "Oh, there's a set of paths into the woods. Tim told me about those. I almost forgot. We can take a walk through them tomorrow."

  "And don’t worry," Halley said, "I'm sure one of us can find time to check that board afterward."

  Halley stood, as did Marcia and Ken, and she towered over Liam as she reached to take his glass. He gave it up without a struggle.

  # # #

  Liam woke with a gasp in the middle of the night. The air around him was burning, and it dried his lungs as he breathed. Somehow, the bedroom door had closed, and turned the stuffy room into an oven. He reached over for Marcia and found her gone.

  She was outside on the small porch of the cabin, her sweater wrapped tightly around her in the cool air, her dark hair pulled back. She sat perfectly still upon the steps, and when Liam touched her shoulder she jumped, then nearly fell over.

  "Sorry, honey. Didn't you hear me coming?"

  "It's all right," she said, and laid her hand on her thin chest. After a moment she turned and looked at him. Her eyes were puffy, as though from lack of sleep, or perhaps even tears.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, then sat beside her and touched her hair. The deck felt cold against his feet.

  "I'm fine," she said. "Just thinking."

  Liam could almost see her despairs clustered around her, like the flies on the porch light. "Try and forget school and work and everything. We're supposed to be on vacation. Remember?"

  "I told you, I'm fine. Can you drop it?"

  "Okay, okay. Relax," he said. Marcia bristled in the chill. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

  "I couldn't sleep. The room was suffocating. I needed some air." She swiped at the flies, but they stayed close.

  "How long have you been up?"

  "Not long."

  "I promise I'll get the window taken care of tomorrow. I'll break it if I have to."

  She smiled, and rubbed her shoulders.

  "It's so quiet out here," she said. "No cars or city in the way. It's like I can hear for miles around me."

  "Really? All I hear are the bugs."

  "I thought I heard Halley and Ken talking just a few minutes ago, just before you came out here. That's how clear the air is."

  Liam glanced at the other cabin. Its lights were out.

  "Are you sure? It doesn't look like they're even awake. What were they saying?"

  "Oh, I couldn't tell that, but I'm pretty sure I heard them speaking. It wasn’t loud, and it wasn't for long -- probably just a moment or two."

  Liam shrugged his shoulders, and then wrapped his arms around her to keep her from shivering. He kissed her forehead.

  "Marcia, will you please talk to me?"

  She looked at him again, her eyes scrutinizing his face, and took a breath to speak, then she stopped and said, "There! Did you hear that? Did you hear them talking?"

  "Come on inside," he said, then stood and offered her his hand. "You can ask them about it in the morning."

  Liam felt dehydrated when he awoke a few hours later with his head hurting and the sun out to get him by stinging his eyes. Marcia fared no better; she moved as if in a daze, barely able to speak from exhaustion. There was an hour until it was time to walk through the woods, so Liam took the opportunity to find his way back to the main cabin and see if someone could come and repair the window. He suggested he go alone, worried that Marcia might need a little more rest. She gave him a strange unfamiliar look.

  Even in the morning daylight, the path still meandered, and Liam could make little sense of it. Surely, there was an easier way through the litter of cabins. Yet, when he tried to deviate from the blue stones, he found himself quickly stopped by one obstacle or another. The path seemed completely different than it had the night before -- as though every blue stone had been lifted during the night and placed in a different location. It was a silly idea, he knew -- to do something like that would require an army of hands.

  The main cabin was as empty as it had been the night before. Liam recognized the furniture immediately; it was identical to what he had in the cabin, right down to the same worn edges. The artwork on the walls was equally uninspired, and he questioned again why he had come on the weekend trip. Liam felt vindicated when he saw the activity board standing in the corner and realized it had been wiped clean, the smudges of a green dry-erase pen streaked across its white surface.

  Liam rang the little bell a number of times before he accepted that no one was coming. He tried the different doors inside the larger building as he looked for help, but each was locked. He thought he heard a sound from behind a door marked "Employees Only,” but it only occurred once, and was gone so quickly that he must have imagined it.

  It took slightly less time to return to the cabin, and when he arrived, Marcia, Halley and Ken were standing in the clearing between buildings. The three of them were huddled close, talking, and Marcia seemed no less tired than when he had left. They saw him approach, and stopped their discussion.

  "What are you doing?" he asked.

  "Just waiting for you . . .and trying to find out if they were talking last night."

  "And?"

  She looked at Halley, then Ken. "Um . . .they don't really remember--"

  "He's inside, you know," Halley said.

  "Who?"

  "The man to fix your window." It was as though she thought she was stating the obvious.

  "But, I couldn't find anyone at the front desk."

  "Ken spotted him walking by and flagged him down."

  "It was the least I could do."

  "Are you ready to go?" asked Marcia. She sounded impatient.

  "Relax. I just want to change my shoes. I'll be right back."

  The
inside of the cabin was still warm, though direct sunlight barely touched it. From the bedroom he could hear the grunts and muttered curses of someone working. He stood at the doorway for a moment and watched.

  The maintenance man was older than Liam had expected, with broad shoulders. From his rolled-up cuffs stretched two muscled arms that worked like a machine on the lip of the window. When he turned to the toolbox open at his side he saw Liam and his wrinkled eyes squinted through beads of sweat.

  Liam resisted the urge to flee.

  "Um . . . Sorry. I wasn't . . . I mean -- I just wanted to get something. This is my cabin."

  "You want this window open, don't you?"

  "Yes. Yes, of course. It was really--"

  "This is a big job. Someone wanted this thing to stay shut. There's got to be forty or fifty nails in here. I'll be working on it for a while."

  "You mean nobody here did this?"

  "Hell, no. They know better, though I don't know who else could have. You're the first to complain."

  "Why would someone do that? You'd think the heat in here alone would change their mind."

  "You've got me. I'm just trying to figure out how I'm going to fix it without ripping the whole window out."

  "Well, I don't want to get in your way. I'll just grab my boots and get out of here."

  The maintenance man stood. On his coveralls, Liam could see the name "Garfield" written in flowing script above the left breast. "Going for a walk around the cabins?"

  "No. We think we're going to see what's on those paths in the trees."

  The man's squint returned, then he turned his back on Liam and returned to work. "Well, be careful. It's a big place out there."

  The two couples began their walk, and entered the wall of trees along the path of gravel that had been laid down.

  Once inside the forest, Liam was amazed to discover how quickly the trees had engulfed them. One minute he was able to see the way back, the next he saw only branches and leaves behind him. Marcia dragged her feet as the group moved in a cluster across the rough gravel path that weaved between the trunks. It had not been replenished in a long time, and keeping to it proved difficult -- for Halley especially. She wore a pair of thin sandals rather than comfortable walking shoes or boots, and they didn't take her very far before she started complaining.

  "This is just awful. It's too hot, my feet hurt, and I'm getting mud all over me."

  "I tried to warn you this might happen." Ken removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his arm. Liam could not believe the amount of sweat the man had produced in so short a time. Then again, it should not have been surprising -- he was weighted down with enough hiking accessories that he looked as though he were going on an expedition for weeks, not just an hour. Back in the city, some sports store employee was counting his commission dollars.

  "Are you two going to be okay?" Liam asked, and both Halley and Ken glared. Marcia sighed heavily.

  "Yes," Ken said. "We'll be fine. Come on, let's go, Halley." She grumbled, but did not protest. Marcia shook her head and followed them.

  Within ten minutes, Halley could barely walk, and she was close to tears. Ken blustered, instantly bothered he would have to turn back, but his arguments seemed forced and lifeless and Liam saw relief in the heavier man's sweat.

  Liam was ready to turn back as well, but Marcia wanted to continue. She had been quiet all morning, stuck in her daze, no doubt working off her tiredness, but she was also a little distracted as well. She had stopped periodically during the short walk, cocked her head, and listened. Liam heard nothing beyond Ken's elephantine feet upon the leaf-litter, but, whatever it was, it captivated Marcia. When he asked her about it, once Ken and Halley had turned back, Marcia seemed confused.

  "I'm not listening to anything. I'm just thinking."

  "You've been acting strange ever since we got here. Is there something going on?"

  She did not stop walking; she only slowed her pace.

  "No," she said, eventually. "There's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about things."

  Liam didn't feel well. Perhaps the heat was affecting him, too. "What things?"

  Marcia stopped. She turned her head from him and hid her face as a dark fly buzzed past her. The leaves in front of her rattled, pushed by the breeze.

  "Marcia?"

  After a long moment, she pointed. "There's another path over there," she said. "I wonder where it goes."

  "Marcia, what's going on?"

  "I'm -- I'm going to follow it, Liam. I'll see you, soon."

  Liam put his hands on her shoulders, but she shook free and started walking. Ahead of her were the faint markings of another trail, barely visible from where he stood. He was about to follow her, but thought better of it. She wanted space to figure things out, and he would give her that space. Liam was not going to run like a puppy dog after her, nor was he going to let her cut short his own walk through the forest. Suddenly, he found it invigorating, the only thing about the weekend that had been even remotely interesting, and he wanted to go further, to see more. It was better than sitting in the heat of the cabin alone, or spending more time with Halley and Ken.

  The path grew darker as the trees grew closer, their branches woven together to form a canopy too heavy for sunlight to penetrate. Around him were the noises of the forest, the sound of branches creaking and unseen animals and insects scurrying. In the shadows, the path had been worn so thin that he almost missed its turn, and following it took him on a steep angle downwards.

  The trees thinned out the further he descended, letting light slip back in, until eventually he reached the bottom of the slope and found a rocky, dirt-filled bed -- the remains of a dried stream or river. The ground had been shorn to the rock, and nothing grew but weeds within the crevices. Liam looked to the higher ground, and could see the sharp edge of it hanging over the area, the perfect place to perch.

  Upon it, Marcia stood.

  Or, at least, it looked like Marcia. She was too far away to be sure.

  She stood there, unmoving. Liam waved, and wondered if she could see him from where she stood. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called her, then stared as he awaited her acknowledgement.

  He was at a loss. She seemed to be ignoring him, yet he didn't know why. He called to her again, so loud that even the echo became distorted, and only then was there movement. Her arms fluttered at her sides, then they wrapped around her head and scratched at it. She doubled over, then stepped back from the ledge and disappeared behind the perch, back into the trees.

  Something was wrong.

  Liam ran for the path he took down, but it was so thin he could not find it. He started climbing the slope anyway, desperate to get to the top and find Marcia. Liam called to her as he climbed, and slipped on the loose dirt and leaves under his feet until he reached the top and saw the remnants of the gravel path on the ground. He ran through the forest, hurdling the fallen debris, his breath ripping his throat as he screamed for Marcia. He searched for where he had left her, but couldn't find it -- the forest swallowed everything and transformed it into a homogenous barrier against him, and after a while he was no longer sure if he was travelling further into or out of the woods. Wherever it was he was going, Marcia would not be waiting.

  Eventually, he found his way out. An hour had passed since the two couples entered the woods, and only Liam returned, pale and sweating. He ran with all he had left to the cabin, calling Marcia's name. Halley and Ken emerged when they heard him, looking confused. Ken ran over as Halley limped outside. The door to Liam and Marcia's cabin was open and the two men raced in, but she was not there. Liam checked the bedroom and found only a cool breeze blowing through from the open window.

  II

  They never found her.

  Police had been called, questions asked, searches done, but nothing came of any of it. Marcia had disappeared. Liam stayed at the cabin in case she returned, in case there was any sign of what had happened to her. He stayed long after H
alley and Ken had left, long after the police moved on to other things. Eventually, he knew he had to return home, but dreaded the idea of entering the house without her.

  The official police report said she had run away. He didn’t believe it, but conversations with her friends and family all revealed the same information -- she felt alone, trapped. She most likely used the weekend as an escape -- perhaps had it planned out in advance. It didn't matter that the idea was ludicrous; he told them it was unlike her to do something so irresponsible. Until they had proof otherwise, though, the official report would stand.

  It wasn’t until she was gone that Liam realized how truly alone he was without her. His every friend had drifted away without notice, and his own family barely recognized his voice. Everyone he knew was a friend of Marcia, and with her gone they wanted nothing to do with him.

  He drank for the first few months, anything to dull the memories of her that streamed through his head. It didn't help; instead, it fuelled hallucinations of her return. He would wake, only to discover he was wrong, that she was not there. Every day broke him a little more, until he could feel the string of despairs that followed him like a child.

  He wanted nothing more than to move beyond the pain and the hurt of her disappearance, but every time he thought he had made headway, it would all come crashing down at the sight of a book she had enjoyed or a room she had painted. Everything around him was a reminder of her, and it soon started to infect him. He had trouble eating or sleeping or thinking straight, the events of that day rewinding and playing over and over again in his head. If he could just find that one mistake he had made, he could correct it and bring her back.

  Yet, there was nothing more he could have done, and his despairs piled upon him and weighed him down.

  The months passed, and he grew more and more desperate for release from the burden. He wished he could go back in time to that moment he and Marcia stood together in the woods -- the last time she had said his name -- and talk to his past-self, explain to him all he had to lose. He would have convinced him to take hold of Marcia tight and never let go; to lose her was to lose everything. She was what made him whole, and without her there was an emptiness that nothing filled.