The Cabin

by Alice Ward

  Still holding the pendant between my fingers, I scrolled to my mom’s number, the happiness quietly fading away. I should have called Leslie afterwards so she would be the last voice I heard. Too late now. Inhaling deeply, I tapped the call icon.

  “Darling!”

  I closed my eyes as my mother’s high-pitched giggle vibrated in my head. “Hi, Cynthia. Sorry I missed all your messages. No cell reception where I am, remember?”

  “Oh yes, that’s right. How is Colorado anyway?”

  I didn’t even bother to remind her I was in Montana. “Very lovely and peaceful. I really—”

  “I have the most exciting news,” she bulldozed over me, “I’m nearly bursting to share it with you. You’ll never guess what it is.”

  She had a new boyfriend.

  She had a new girlfriend.

  She was getting married again.

  Her newest lover had gifted her with some expensive trinket.

  She was moving into the Playboy mansion.

  Or a rich Arab’s harem.

  I didn’t bother guessing out loud. The options were practically endless.

  “I was cast in a new movie!”

  My heart slammed into my toes. Of all the options, this was the least welcome. My stomach started to seriously churn, and I reached into my bag for an antacid. “Cynthia, please don’t—”

  “It’s called ‘Cougar City’ and I’m the headliner. Just imagine, darling… me, Cyn Meadows, on the big screen again. Isn’t that exciting?”

  No. Not at all.

  And I didn’t need to remind her that the only big screen Cynthia Diane Meadows had ever been on was some dude’s PC monitor while he jacked off. I popped two antacids, the ulcers I’d developed as a teen reminding me of their presence.

  Speaking quickly, she went on about the other “stars,” and how excited she was to work again. “There will be huge cross-country promotions, and Theo feels certain I’ll win another AVN award. You can come with me, darling. My fans haven’t seen you in years. They will absolutely adore you.”

  I winced at the name. Theo Southerland, Mom’s smarmy agent. A man I loathed with every fiber of my being. I popped another antacid, thinking of the last time she dragged me to an Adult Video News award ceremony where she won best actress for “Beauty and the Dicks.” She’d also won an award for “Snow White and the Seven Cocks,” and “Little Red Ride My Face.” I didn’t think Walt Disney would approve.

  Forcing my voice to stay calm, I raised my voice so she would hear me over her endless gushing. She was like this when she was manic. “Cynthia, are you taking your medication?”

  The blessed silence lasted only a few seconds as she processed my question. “Darling, I don’t need medication.” Her voice went shrill. “Aren’t you listening? Cyn Meadows is working again! A role of a lifetime, really. How many adult entertainers get an opportunity like this? Can’t you be happy for me just this once?”

  I hated her. I loved her. I felt so very very sorry for her.

  I pressed my fist against my temple. Maybe I was bipolar too. “Just be careful. Okay?”

  I could practically feel her eyes roll. “Of course, I’ll be careful. This isn’t my first starring role, you know.”

  No, it wasn’t even her hundredth.

  “Will you please go see Dr. Jackson?”

  He was Mom’s psychiatrist, the man who attempted to keep her mid-way between the terrible depressive lows and manic highs she experienced. During one of her lows, she once confessed to how she used to heavily medicate herself before filming any scene she found distasteful. That an altered state supported her “acting abilities.” Dr. Jackson needed to know she would be working again and that she was off her medication. I would have to email him as soon as I was off this call.

  She huffed out a breath. “There really is no need to bother that dear old man, darling. I’m feeling wonderfully energetic. I actually went to the gym and worked out for six hours to get ready for my reemergence.”

  I sighed. She didn’t even see the manic frenzy behind that. I couldn’t help but wonder if cocaine or some other drug was helping to fuel it.

  “And, darling…” This time, her voice shifted into a coaxing tone I knew too well. She wanted something from me. The hair bristled on the back of my neck, my skin tightening with gooseflesh. “Theo wanted me to let you know something—”

  His name was like a spider under my skin. “I don’t care what that man wants, he—”

  It was like she didn’t even hear me. “He said that he could make you rich too. Apparently, Mother-Daughter films are all the rage, and since we look so alike and could almost pass as twins, he thinks we could…”

  I didn’t even hear the rest as the blood roared in my ears, drowning out the words. It wasn’t the first time it’d been suggested that I “work” with my mother.

  “I know it would be awkward at first…”

  Awkward? Having sex with my mother on camera would only be awkward?

  “But we’ve always been so close, and it wouldn’t actually be anything other than acting.”

  She had officially lost her mind.

  “He’s thinking of the title, ‘Mommy, May I Cum?’ Not very original, in my opinion. I’m thinking a better title would be—”

  She was still talking when I pressed the button to end the call. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t listen. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t anything at the moment. I just wanted to go back into seclusion and pretend the past two minutes hadn’t happened.

  I’d done it to myself, calling her.

  My phone vibrated in my hand as she called me back. I had known better than to respond to her messages. It was stupid of me to call, but the little girl inside me continued to hold onto a small sliver of hope that I wouldn’t have to mother my own mother, or be embarrassed to even walk with her down the street.

  The reality was that Cyn Meadows would never change, and it was my fault for thinking things could be any different. She would always only be happy in the limelight, and if she failed at that, she would sink into a deep depression. Those were the two swings of her pendulum. Nothing was in between. Not even me.

  “Your groceries are ready.”

  I jumped at the voice. It was Pop Junior Junior standing in the door, two red dots on his cheeks as his big brown puppy dog eyes stared at me, just as they always did.

  “Thank you so much.” Pushing myself from the seat, I was conscious of him watching my every move as I stuffed my long dark hair back under the wool cap and zipped the bulky parka to my chin.

  The teen’s blush grew even redder as I passed by him. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, his voice breaking in places. “I’ll help you load the car.”

  I considered telling him I’d just do it myself, but the snow was starting to fall harder and I really could use the help. I gave him a bright smile that caused his cheeks to almost glow in the dim light of the old store. “Thank you.”

  Not even taking the time to check the bags, I paid for the groceries with cash, just like I always did. I didn’t want anyone on the mountain to know my full name, so avoided credit cards whenever possible. I wasn’t famous, but one Google search made people look at me different. They were either disgusted by my presence — after all, who wants their sweet offspring knowing a porn queen’s child? — or wanted to get to know me better. Those in the latter category always assumed I wanted their attention because of who my mother was. And most of them didn’t take no as an answer very well.

  I typed out the email to Dr. Jackson as Mrs. Pop made change, the concerned look on her face growing even deeper. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay here, Miss Zoe?” From the corner of my eye, I saw Pop Junior Junior’s head whip in my direction, his eyebrows nearly at his hairline.

  That sealed the deal. The teen was harmless, but I couldn’t imagine having to endure those puppy dog eyes for hours on end, let alone a day or two. Besides, I’d left my laptop at the cabin. If I was going to be snowbound anywhere,
I wanted it to be with it firmly on my lap.

  “Thank you so much for the offer and the concern,” I told her, pulling on my gloves. I hefted a bag on my hip as her son grabbed two more. “You all stay safe and warm too. See you next week.”

  Her smile looked forced. “It might be longer than that before they’re able to dig you out up there.”

  Seriously?

  “So, two weeks then?”

  She nodded, but didn’t look certain. “Probably so, sweetie. Depends on how much ice we get with the snow. You be safe. Have you ever driven in this kind of weather before?”

  Um, no.

  I didn’t tell her that. “I promise to be careful,” I said instead. “And the Jeep has four-wheel drive.”

  Which would probably come in handy if I knew how to use it.

  I wisely kept my mouth shut about that too. After my supplies were loaded and a few more “be carefuls” along with a big hug that melted my heart, I was on my way, the road still a black ribbon before me.

  “See, I can drive just fine in the snow,” I said to the angel hanging from the rearview mirror. I’d only met Leslie’s Uncle Stanley once and hadn’t pictured the big, burly man to be an angel kind of guy, but it was a comfort to have this cute silver one dangling in front of me. And I especially loved the Thoreau inscription…

  Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined.

  But as the miles passed and the climb got steeper, my confidence in my direction began to wane. Where only a few minutes ago I could see the road, it was now getting whiter and whiter. I had the defrost on high and the windshield wipers on as fast as they would go, but the fog on the glass wouldn’t dissipate. Neither would the ice building up around the edges.

  I navigated a hairpin curve with a gradient that seemed to go straight up into nothing but whiteness, my fingers cramping as I held the steering wheel so tight. By the time I was halfway up the mountain, my jaw ached from clenching my teeth, and my shoulders were in knots, the muscles in my neck feeling like they were going to snap at any moment. When it got to the point where I could barely see past the hood of the Jeep, I knew I was in serious trouble.

  I should have listened to Mrs. Pop, but things looked okay fifteen minutes ago. How had the universe changed so quickly?

  Taking a deep breath, I belted out a Carrie Underwood song. Well, kinda. My version was more along the lines of Jesus taking the steering wheel and driving me out of this shit. “Sorry,” I muttered to the angel. “Now isn’t the time to curse and say Jesus in the same sentence.”

  The Jeep slid.

  “I said I was sorry,” I shouted as I turned the wheel in the other direction. I might not have driven in the snow before, but I’d navigated Los Angeles traffic in the rain plenty of times and turning into the slide was instinctual.

  “Okay, I’ve got this,” I said to the angel, finding the sound of a voice — even my own voice — a comfort. Heart still hammering inside my ribcage, I pressed the gas, and the tires skidded before catching, and I inched up the mountain again. I blew out the breath I’d been holding, but my jaw went straight back into the gritting position as the back tires slipped left, sending me into a shallow ditch.

  It was still officially daylight, but the world was as dim as late evening, which was odd considering that I was surrounded by white. “Keep it together, Super Z,” I told myself and turned on the inside light to look over the gears.

  When I was little, I’d play in the back rooms of studios in which my mother “worked” and got really good at using my imagination to entertain myself. I’d pretend that I was one of the Disney princesses, but my favorite made-up character was Super Z. As this superhero, I’d fight off the bad guys, restore order to a tumultuous world. My superpower was the ability to transport to any destination I wished. Oh, how I wished I had that superpower now.

  Next to the gear shifter was another small shifter labeled 4-H, N, and 4-L. I thought it safe to assume the 4s meant four-wheel drive, and since I was going up a high mountain, I further assumed H was what I needed.

  “Let’s find out if I’m right.” I gripped the shifter and shoved it in the direction 4-H indicated. That was easy, except I couldn’t tell anything had happened.

  Pressing the gas pedal, the tires slipped and skidded, spewing snow behind me. When the Jeep slid backwards, I yelped and hit the brake, my heart threatening to burst until the vehicle finally bumped to a halt. “Okay, let’s try 4-L.” Since my car gear had to be in neutral when I ran it through the car wash, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try shifting it into N before trying for low.

  That was better. I was relieved to hear the hum of the engine go deeper, and the tires actually felt like they were more secure to the road as I continued to climb, although I dared not go more than five miles per hour. Visibility wasn’t my friend. I couldn’t see shit.

  Inch by inch, I crawled up the mountain, using the wool hat to swipe at the windshield when the defrost couldn’t keep up. The snow had changed, the flakes coming down were nearly as big as my fist. The hood of the Jeep, the road, the trees, the entire world had grown white as I struggled to keep the tires away from the cliff that fell into a vast nothingness on my right.

  When I reached the summit, I blew out a shaky breath and stopped the Jeep, squealing a bit as it kept moving forward a few feet on its own. In addition to my jaw and fingers, my sphincter was getting a pretty good workout today too. My entire body would be sore tomorrow, inside and out.

  If I lived that long.

  I shook off the morbid thought and attempted to look at the positive side of my situation. On the plus side, I was close to the cabin now. Just a couple hundred feet down the mountain, and I would come to the gravel road that would take me to its warm comfort. I looked around, peering at the place another gravel driveway had been before. It was now gone, covered by a thick layer of snow.

  Inhaling deeply, I made my decision. I just needed to keep moving forward. I’d made it all the way up. Surely, I could make it a little way down. My fingers death-gripping the steering wheel again, I took my foot off the brake.

  Don’t do it.

  A snake of fear slithered up my spine as the words filled my head. I realized the words were smart, but what else was I supposed to do? Going back down would be as treacherous as going forward and would take much longer, even if I could turn around on this narrow road.

  Tapping the brake again, I looked with longing at the place where my neighbor’s driveway should be. I didn’t even know if anyone actually lived there or how far the house was from this point. If I was able to find it, would I be able to break in and seek shelter if no one was home? I didn’t know. And it seemed too risky to find out.

  A third option was to just stay right here and ride it out, but the thought of doing that brought instant panic. I could already imagine the feeling of claustrophobia that would take hold as the snow slowly blanketed the Jeep. How long would it take for me to be buried alive? And how long would I have to stay in my four-wheeled coffin until I could dig my way out? Would I run out of gas and freeze to death? Die of carbon monoxide poisoning long before that?

  I shuddered. No.

  I had to keep going. I had to try to get home.

  Home.

  When had I begun thinking of this mountain as home?

  “We can do this,” I said to the angel and lifted the tiny four-leaf clover up to my lips, giving my good luck/love/life/legacy charm a kiss. “We’re close now.”

  I was close, but in this new icy wilderness, I was beginning to realize that close meant nothing. The snowflakes were still huge, and the brutal wind was now making them come down nearly sideways. It reminded me of watching Star Trek, and the USS Enterprise taking off at warp speed.

  Humming the theme song, I slowly pressed the gas and inched forward. But as the nose of the Jeep dipped downward, dread became a living thing inside me. I hadn’t gone more than a dozen yards and I already knew coming up the mountain was bet
ter than going down.

  As the first curve appeared before me, I tapped the brake. Nothing. I stomped on it. Still nothing. I pulled up the e-brake but the Jeep continued to slide forward, heading straight for the edge.

  I screamed, yanking at the steering wheel, but it didn’t make a difference. Both my feet were on the brake, but it didn’t matter. The Jeep went sideways, then tilted up on two wheels, tossing me hard to the right.

  I reached for the door handle, preparing to jump out. But I was too late. I was falling into the abyss.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Gray

  I stomped my boots on the front porch, knocking off as much snow as I could. Beside me, Maggie shook the snow from her chocolate fur, her pink tongue lapping at her ice-encrusted muzzle. I reached up and did the same to my beard. One day, I needed to cut it off. Maybe I would when I gave a shit, but today wasn’t that day.

  The snow had gotten here faster than the idiot forecasters predicted. Hit harder too. In the two years I’d lived here, I’d never seen anything like this. Even now, I couldn’t see a foot past the railing. Within an hour, the entire world had been consumed in a sea of white.

  Still, I was prepared.

  Plenty of fuel for the generator and more than enough wood for the fire. The pantry was stocked with enough food stores to survive Armageddon, and there were barrels of water at the ready.

  Maggie whined and scratched at the door. I opened it, and her nails clicked across the wood floor as she ran inside. “Don’t worry, girl. There’s plenty of food for you too.”

  Leaving my boots just inside, I shrugged out of the heavy coat and tossed it across a chair in front of the fire, placing my gloves and hat beside it. Maggie plopped down on the rug while I squatted in front of the flames, holding my hands out to warm. The temperature was dropping quickly. Grabbing a towel, I wiped most of the wet from the lab/pit mix’s thick coat. Then she was out, fast asleep before I could even stand up.

  The need for coffee drew me away from the bright flames, something warm to heat up my bones. I’d gotten up early to prep the cabin for the storm and hadn’t yet had either breakfast or lunch. In just a few minutes, the scent of it brewing also reminded me of how hungry I was. A sandwich didn’t sound appealing. It might be afternoon, but bacon and eggs sounded about right.