Bitter Cold

by J. Joseph Wright

  “You looked like you were going pretty slow to me,” Jeff said. “It’s too slick out here to be driving without chains. Don’t you have any?”

  “No. I thought my studded tires would be fine.”

  “They might be fine. Normally,” he looked up to the featureless grey sky. “But this isn’t a normal storm. Snow’s piling way too fast for road crews to keep up.”

  “Can’t they get more crews out here? Where are the plows?”

  “Welcome to Columbia County. Not much in the way of a tax base up here. Thing is, we never get winter storms like this.”

  “Great,” her voice sizzled with sarcasm. “This highway’s nothing but ice. I’ll never make it home.”

  “They’ll have the road crews come through sooner or later. Probably take them through the night, but they’ll plow and sand and chemical it into submission.”

  “So you think it won’t be clear ‘til morning?”

  “I know it won’t be.”

  “Wonderful. What the hell am I gonna do now?”

  Jeff gestured west, up the hill. “There’s a motel in town. You can still make it that far before the blizzard overtakes everything.”

  “Dad?” Logan’s cheeks were already rosy. “What if she stayed at our house?” he turned to April. “Do you wanna stay with us? We’re gonna go sledding!”

  “Uh, well...” she shrugged at Jeff.

  “Logan, don’t put her on the spot like that. If she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t want to.”

  “No, I...” she hesitated. “I want to. It’s just...”

  “It’s what?” Logan prodded. “It’s because you don’t know us, isn’t it? You think we’re serial killers or something?” he chuckled. “Yeah, right. That’d be pretty funny, actually.”

  April gave Jeff a quizzical look. Jeff shook his head.

  Logan ignored them. “So? Whaddya say? Wanna stay over? We promise not to hack you into bits with a machete,” he raised his right hand.

  April didn’t answer. Not with words. Her confused facial expression said it all. Jeff was half-convinced she actually did believe they were a father-son team of homicidal maniacs.

  “Rainier Motel,” he said finally. “It’s clean and cheap. Ted and Trina Skipworth, they’re great people. Tell ‘em Jeff Keller sent you.”

  “What’ll that get me? Some sort of discount?”

  He smiled. “No. Actually, it probably won’t get you shit. Forget about it.”

  Logan’s eyes became the size of dinner plates. “You see? Right there! That’s where I get it!”

  Jeff and April laughed while Logan pretended to fume.

  “Well,” Jeff held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, April.”

  “Yeah, Jeff,” they exchanged a solid handshake. “It was,” she looked at Logan. “And you, too, Logan. Nice to meet you.”

  He didn’t answer or offer to shake her hand. Instead, he stuck out his lower lip and marched to the truck.

  “Oh, come on, Logan,” Jeff said. “Be nice and say goodbye.”

  He wouldn’t budge. In a huff, he climbed in the cab and slammed the door.

  “He gets that way sometimes. It’s been a long day. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay, really,” she smiled. “I know how he feels. About having a long day, that is.”

  “You mean besides your spinout here?”

  She laughed. “Oh, yeah. This is nothing. I’d take this any day over what I just went through at Trojan.”

  “Trojan?” he became intrigued. “What the hell were you doing there?”

  “I’m up here working on a follow-up story about the earthquake back in May.”

  Jeff’s recollection stirred. “Hey, wait a minute. April? April Murray? You’re the reporter! You wrote those stories!”

  She lifted her palms. “That’s me. You’ve read my work?”

  “Of course. I live next to an old nuclear plant with live radioactive waste stored on-site. You might say I try to stay informed, especially when something happens right under our noses like an earthquake. I really liked your articles. You do good work.”

  “Thanks. The guys at NWP don’t appreciate it too much.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he asked. “What’d they do, threaten to pull their ads from your paper or something?”

  “Yeah,” she clenched her jaw. “Something like that.”

  “So, what do you think? Was there a radioactive leak?”

  “Not sure. One thing’s for certain. They’re acting pretty strange about it. Like they’re hiding something.”

  “So a 5.0 earthquake causes a crack in concrete casks designed to handle a nine? What’s wrong with that picture?”

  “I’m impressed,” she said. “You have read some of my pieces.”

  “I’ve read them all,” he smiled. “At least all of your stuff on Trojan. And I hope you write more. Give ‘em hell,” he urged. “If there was a leak, I want to know.”

  She held onto his stare, giving him the feeling time had frozen as solid as his fingertips. Then a grin took shape on her lips. “Well, I should go.”

  “Here,” he put his hands on the hood of her Neon. “Put ‘er in reverse and ease into it, okay?”

  She climbed in and did as he suggested. In no time, with Jeff nearly pushing his back out, they managed to extricate her car from the arctic drift and get it moving again. Jeff waved at her while he treaded through the slippery mess back to his Ford.

  “What was that all about?” he glared at Logan, turning down the stereo. “We had a deal. You said you’d be polite. Because of that little stunt, you’re not going sledding any time soon.”

  “Dad! You can’t do that! You promised!”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “No way!”

  “I mean it.”

  Logan puffed, raising his shoulders and then dropping them again. “Why can’t I ever go sledding?”

  “We can. I told you. We can go anytime—at the mountain.”

  “I mean here, at home. Why can’t I do it here? It’s like you’re afraid. Why won’t you let me just go have fun with all the other kids?”

  For a moment, Jeff let his mind go to that damp, weathered corner where he hid his grimmest memories, the time-worn lockbox he dared never open. “I have my reasons.”

  A knock on the glass made him jump. He saw a face. A half-second later, after the sense of shock had subsided, he realized April had gotten out of her vehicle and now stood next to his. He hit the button to lower his window.

  “I just wanted to tell you thanks again. I’m gonna go ahead and chance it to Portland, so Fred and Wilma are going to have to survive without my business, I guess.”

  Jeff laughed. “Some reporter. It was Ted and Trina.”

  “Well, be as it may,” she waved, turning and heading to her car. “Thanks again.”

  “Good luck!” Jeff rolled up his window.

  “She likes you, Dad,” Logan elbowed him.

  “What!” Jeff resisted. “You’re being a weirdo again. Knock it off.”

  “Don’t believe me?” he grinned. “I’ll betcha,” he pointed at April as she negotiated the mounds of snow. “If she looks back, that means she likes you. And you have to take me sledding”

  “And if she doesn’t? What do I win?”

  Logan gestured outside. “She will. Watch.”

  Jeff didn’t need his son’s prompting. April’s allure forced his eyes to follow as she toed the unstable ground, judging each step with deliberate balance. A woman like April, he just didn’t see that type much in his small town. Attitude. A confident intelligence. It reminded him of Emma. He shuddered, afraid to keep watching, but unable to look away. After slipping three times and nearly falling once, she reached her door handle, clutching it like a lifeline. She rested her body against the car and pulled open the door.

  “Looks like you were wrong, sport,” he said as she got in. He acted coy, but a part of him wished he’d lost the bet.

  “Just wait,” Logan remained confid
ent. April sat and reached to close the door, then stopped. She leaned out and turned at her waist, smiling big and waving. Jeff felt his stomach flutter, something it hadn’t done in forever.

  “Ha! Told you!” Logan rejoiced. “Now you have to take me sledding!”

  Jeff let out a hard breath and watched April drive away. The car’s front end jerked to the right. She must have hit a slick patch. He could tell she tried to counterturn, a common mistake. She over-steered, causing the Neon to pitch into a spin, this time in the middle of the lane. He peered down the road, wondering when the next car would ramble around the bend. Logan broke into a high-pitched squeal.

  April’s car came to rest after three full revolutions. Jeff jumped from his pickup before the Neon stopped moving. Every step felt like his foot would slide out from underneath him, but he kept command of his balance. The same couldn’t be said for his son. Logan had a hell of a time getting his legs over the embankments and the tire ruts. He didn’t let it stop him, though.

  When Jeff got to her fogged-up window, April had her white-knuckled hands on the wheel at ten and two, daydreaming. He tapped, not wanting to startle her. She rolled her eyes, then turned her head.

  “You really should just stay the night,” he said. She nodded. “You want me to try calling ahead to the motel? I’m sure they have a vacancy, but you never know. Weather like this, they may be booked solid sooner than you’d think.”

  “You know what?” she let go of the wheel. “I think I’ll take you and Logan up on your offer. If it still stands, that is.”

  He tried not to let his jaw fall open. Drooling—not good in front of a woman you just met.

  “Sure it is,” Logan spoke up before Jeff had the chance. “Right, Dad?”

  “Well, uh,” was he drooling or not? He couldn’t tell, and it bothered him. “Of course.”

  SIX

  “Wow, Jeff! What an amazing home,” April stepped out of her car. Jeff had to tow her partway up the hill. “A Tudor, right?”

  “Huh?” Jeff was still in shock to have a female anywhere near his residence.

  “The house, Dad,” Logan handed him an assist.

  “Oh, yeah. The house. Tudor, yeah.”

  “I just love these houses,” she marveled “The steep rooflines, the intricate brickwork, the exposed timbers. You two live here alone?”

  Jeff forced a smile. “Yeah. It’s just the two of us. A bachelor pad, right, Logan?”

  “Right!”

  “Where’s Logan’s mother?”

  He lowered his head and all of the sudden she became apologetic.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so nosy. It’s my nature.”

  “No, really,” he looked at her, his smile gone. “It’s okay,” he turned to his son once more. “We lost her. Car accident,” his eyes wandered to the ground again.

  “I’m so sorry,” she seemed to struggled for something else to say.

  “You wanna go in, or do you wanna stay out here and freeze to death?” Logan broke the gloom. April smiled, but stayed still. Then Logan asked, “April, you wanna go sledding with us?”

  She turned to him. “You know what? Sure. Anything to get my mind off today. That sounds fun, anyway. Jeff, you okay with it?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s pretty dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? Dad! It’s snow. It’s soft and fluffy. What could possibly happen?”

  Jeff crossed his arms.

  “Dad, you can’t back down. Remember? We made a bet and I won, fair and square.”

  April tilted her head. “Bet? What did you guys bet?”

  Logan grinned at his dad, then the boy turned his blue-eyed charm on April. “Well, if you must know. It was about…you.”

  “Me? What about me?”

  “All right, all right,” Jeff interrupted. “We’ll go sledding after we eat, okay?” he prodded Logan into the house and motioned to April to follow. “Come on in. Do you drink coffee?”

  “Uh, yeah. Okay,” she smiled.

  As he fired up the Keurig, Jeff tried his best to dissuade his son from going outside, enticing him with video games and promises of pay-per-view movies. He even went so far as to tell the boy he could stay up late on the internet, a rare commodity in their household. No matter how many temptations thrown his way, the kid held firm. No bites. No deals. After a while, Jeff felt his own defenses break down. Logan, it seemed, possessed greater will, greater stamina, greater desire to have his way.

  Jeff found a pair of Emma’s old Timberlands that fit April well enough, a waterproof Carhartt jacket he never used, and some extra gloves they had laying around. Nothing fancy, but they worked.

  Logan already had his outdoor attire on before his cocoa was made. He even wore his stocking cap inside the house, pulling it over his eyes so he had to tilt his head back to see anything.

  With the prospect of sledding becoming more and more a reality, Jeff decided to accept it, though the very idea unearthed bones from the past he would rather have kept buried. However, looking at his son, he remembered being young, and he wanted to let Logan have some memories of his own. As a result, he pushed and locked away those haunting pictures, the lingering cries for help.

  SEVEN

  “Come on, Dad,” Logan begged. “I wanna go to Dead Man’s Dump! Everyone else is there!”

  April knew right away Jeff wanted nothing to do with the boy’s idea.

  “What’s wrong with this hill?” he asked, scanning the sloping field.

  The boy protested. “This hill’s lame! Come on. Please can we go to the Dump?”

  “No. Now stop. You know I don’t want you going over there.”

  “Actually, he has a point,” April nudged Jeff’s side. The ‘hill,’ as he so liberally called it, seemed nothing more than a hump in the ground. “What’s Dead Man’s Dump, anyway?”

  “It’s a box canyon. Over there,” he gestured with his head toward some white-capped fir trees. “Damn near a cliff. It’s dangerous, and kids aren’t supposed to play there!” he yelled that last part so Logan could hear.

  “You used to, hypocrite,” his son stared. With a running start, he plopped the Flexible Flyer onto the powder and pushed. After several strides, he threw himself aboard, traveling a total of thirty feet.

  “That is pretty lame,” joked April. “So tell me. Why’s it called Dead Man’s Dump? Don’t tell me someone actually died there.”

  Jeff regarded her up and down. Behind his green eyes, she perceived his mind working overtime. “As a matter of fact, people did die. A teenager and a…a boy. My friend. But that was a long time ago, and I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “Eddy Mitchell?” Logan reached the top of the hill and prepared for another run.

  “I said I don’t talk about it!”

  “Then tell her about that kid in 1890! Daniel Applegate!” Logan made another anemic downhill run on his sled.

  “1890?” April sounded intrigued. “Now you have to tell me everything. Except about your friend, of course. If you don’t want.”

  He cleared his throat. “Tell you everything, huh? Well, in 1890, Daniel Applegate was the son of a big boss for the Pacific Fur Company. Daniel was about, oh, fifteen or so, and he was with his dad at a small fur trapping outpost near here, when he decides to take a walk all by himself one winter night—in weather a lot like this, as a matter of fact.”

  “Tell her, Dad,” Logan urged, giving up on the sledding. “Tell her the gross part.”

  He flashed an annoyed look. “Let me tell the story. Anyway, so this kid, not much older than Logan, really, goes outside in a snowstorm to take a leak and doesn’t come back.”

  “Oh, no!” April covered her mouth.

  “Yeah. So of course they go looking for him. Franticly. I mean he’s a boss’s kid, so you can only imagine the panic. They look all night and can’t find him. They fear the worst, and they’re right. When the sun comes up and they get a better look at the forest, they finally find him, or what�
�s left of him, down there at the bottom of the canyon. His body wasn’t much more than shreds of meat on bone. The only way they knew it was him was by his dad’s gold watch, the chain still as shiny as ever in his blood-soaked coat pocket.”

  “Wild,” April’s teeth chattered. “Did they ever find out what happened?”

  “They figured it was an animal. Mountain lion or bear.”

  “I think it was something else,” Logan raised an eyebrow, his red cheeks becoming redder. “I think it was a monster. There was a curse on Dead Man’s Dump, a hex from something bad that happened there. The boy was killed because of that curse, because he or his dad did something wrong.”

  Jeff glared at his son.

  “Why do you think that?” she asked Logan.

  He glanced at his dad. Jeff rolled his eyes and Logan answered. “There are stories of some kinda massacre. Cowboys and Indians and stuff.”

  “Native Americans,” Jeff corrected him. “And besides, it wasn’t cowboys, it was the U.S. Calvary. Those are all just legends, though. This area’s full of old legends like that, most of them are bullshit.”

  “Okay, now I’ve gotta see this place,” April rubbed her hands. “Come on. Let’s just take a look.”

  “Now you?” Jeff crossed his arms. “I’ve got two stubborn kids on my hands, here?”

  April laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to undermine your parental authority. I guess it’s the curious writer in me. How about this? How about you just show me which way it is and I’ll go alone?”

  Jeff sighed. “No. We’ll take you.”

  “All right!” Logan stepped on the end of the sled, popping up the front and snatching it with quick hands.

  After a couple minutes of walking, April discovered she wouldn’t have needed Jeff to escort her to the legendary hill. Shrieks of delight gave away its presence. Jeff pointed her to a break in the trees, a gentle slope which led to an opening cut into the rock. Voices and laughter seemed to come from different directions, throwing her bearings for a loop. When they reached the end of the well-worn trail in the snow, they came to a clearing which seemed to drop into oblivion.

  “Be careful,” Jeff looked back to make sure Logan obeyed him. “Stay next to me, and don’t wander too close to the edge over there,” he pointed out the dangerous spots.