by Bryan Nowak
“Bill, I can’t describe it. I just have to find those two. Aside from that, how bad can it be? There are two of us and if we go slow and stay quiet we might be able to get in, find them, and get out. No muss, no fuss.”
Although it was the middle of the afternoon, the streets largely lay deserted, the rainy day evidently driving everyone inside. From the parking lot of the boat launch, several buildings loomed up a rise about a half mile away.
The town of Riapoke once abutted the lake. It was rebuilt farther away after repeated flooding. One of the state offices responsible for the waterways’ management had given them money to create an enhanced wetland to accommodate additional spillways for water when the weather turned wet. The majority of the buildings sat at a natural crest at the top of a small rise. The remains of the old town sat rotting in the woods just off the boat ramp’s access road.
Bill shrugged his shoulders in a clear gesture of disapproval. Mike got the impression Bill’s angst ran deeper than he was letting on.
The storm, while intense, worked itself out and had moved out of the area. The trees sat oddly quiet, as if the birds themselves remained under a celestial gag order. The wind, which had whipped so furiously earlier, died down to a light breeze. The grey skies overhead pressed the sky toward an early twilight. Mike wondered to himself if it was possible to get around an unknown city at night unnoticed. Desperate to break the uncomfortable silence, Mike asked, “So, Bill, how long have you worked for the resort?”
Bill thought about it for a few seconds. “Let me see ... I started about three years before you got here. I worked the front desk for a couple of years and then became head maintenance man, chief bottle washer, and master of all the rental gear.”
“Still like it?”
Bill harrumphed, his voice deepening. “Mike, these are the kinds of conversations you have with someone before you fire them. Oh, sorry, I forgot. Rather, eliminated a superfluous position in a matrixed organization. I believe that’s what you people call it.”
Mike laughed. “You’re funny. No, Bill, as far as I’m concerned you can stay at the resort until the buildings fall down. I just hate the silence. This place is creepy enough.”
“It definitely earns its reputation. You know about the murders—sorry, disappearances. But not much about the good people of Riapoke. I’ve been here long enough to know a little about them. The place is more like a cult compound than a town. The whole shebang is run by a guy named Reverend Donny Swenson. He’s literally the head honcho of everything around here. He’s in charge of the police, fire department, garbage, even controls the local school board.”
“Chief bottle washer too?” Mike asked.
Bill chuckled. “You’re catching on. Yep, if it happens in Riapoke, it’s because he had a hand in it. Most of the people around here are afraid of him. He commands them to come to church, pay taxes, and personally approves of everything. Even to the point where marriages are reportedly arranged. From what I understand, you can’t even have a baby in Riapoke without his permission.”
“Creepy,” Mike said. “How do you know all this?”
“About eight years ago, before you bought your share of the resort, a twelve-year-old boy found his way to The Hideaway. Kid was completely confused, half-starved, clothes all torn, filthy from head to toe like he’d spent a few days in the woods.
“Of course, we fed the kid, clothed him. The boy stayed in one of the rooms to recuperate. Some of the staff volunteered to keep an eye on him.”
Mike and Bill had eclipsed half of the distance between the pier and the town’s main street. The idea of a child of twelve stumbling through the deep woods surrounding them, desperately seeking help, sent ice through his veins. His thoughts flashed back to Kelley. “So, what happened to him?”
“We got him talking. His name was Ethan Slater. Mother and father were killed by someone … or something. When we asked for a description, he froze up on us. Whatever it was, it terrified him. He described it as a demon or a ghost.
“We asked Ethan how he managed to escape. He told us he’d run out the back door of the church and got lost in the woods. He followed the lake until he showed up here. He pleaded with us not to let them take him back to town.”
Mike kicked a branch off the road and into the ditch. “What happened to him.”
Bill grimaced. “We did the only thing we could do. Legally, we had to call the police, and they sent an officer from Riapoke.”
Mike interrupted him, “But, that’s exactly what you should’ve done in that situation.”
“They came with papers and a magistrate’s order to take him into custody. I had no choice. About a week later, I called the police station in Riapoke to find out what happened to the kid. The guy I talked to said no one had heard of an Ethan Slater. No family with that last name lived there.” Bill fell silent.
Mike was afraid of his next question, but felt compelled to ask. “So, I’m guessing you don’t believe their version of the story?”
“They killed that boy, Mike. As I live and breathe, I know in my heart they killed Ethan. We should’ve protected him, and we failed. If you’d only seen the terror in that boy’s eyes when the police took him away, then you’d think twice about what we’re doing.”
Four for Dinner
Meghan and Kyle stepped out into the light rain. The conservation officer held a raincoat over the top of their heads to keep the rain off, failing miserably. Meghan wondered how many square feet the house covered. At least 4,000 square feet or more, it may be the largest house she’d ever seen. The sheer size was impressive and more than a bit intimidating.
A figure stood in the window looking down at them. Possibly the authority who’d shortly stand in judgment of them.
The conservation officer broke the silence. “Watch yourselves on the steps you two. Wouldn’t want either of you slipping and falling.”
To Meghan, Matthew didn’t come across as a mean person, just a guy doing a job. She was glad he’d had an extra jacket to wear on the ride over. The temperatures fell substantially from the warm humidity of the morning and nothing she did dried her off. Although her bikini and shorts no longer soaked through, they still retained the dampness of the lake water. The promise of warmer and drier clothing was welcome.
The officer knocked on the door, and after a couple of moments, it opened. In front of them stood a short woman wearing an apron. “Good evening, please come in.”
“Thank you, Shelly. Reverend Swenson is expecting us.” Matthew said to the woman.
Shelly motioned to the chairs in the attached dining room. “I know, he’ll join us shortly. Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Swenson,” Kyle said.
Shelly looked perplexed. “Oh, I’m not—”
A door closed along a hallway that led to the back of the house. “Oh God, she’s definitely not my wife. Although she’s convinced she is sometimes. Shelly is my assistant, maid, nanny, cook, occasional errand person, and trusted adviser.”
The man stood just inside the living room entryway leading from a hallway that ended at the open door of an office. The reverend stood impossibly tall, well over six-feet. Brown hair, in need of a haircut, cascaded down his head and tapered off at his temples. Meghan made out specks of grey hair, intelligent looking eyes, and a few wrinkles. They were probably about the same age, or close to it.
Matthew patted her shoulder and whispered, “Reverend Swenson.”
“That’ll be all Matthew,” the reverend said. “You have an errand to run for me, I believe.”
“Yes, sir. I believe I do.” Matthew took the coat off of Meghan’s shoulders and turned toward the door with a nod at both Meghan and Kyle. “You’re in good hands. I’ll call in the morning.”
The reverend gave the conservation officer a stern look. “Wait, Matthew, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Oh, yeah.” Matthew reached into his pocket and pulled out the arrest papers he’d filled out in the
parking lot of the boat landing.
As he handed them over, Meghan stole a quick glance at the papers. Meghan observed her name on the line marked ‘Defendant’. It made her feel like a common criminal. Would something like this show up on a permanent record? What about work? They had an arrest policy that stated anyone charged with a crime would be terminated immediately. And what would any of this mean for Kyle?
“Thank you, Matthew,” the reverend said. “Now, head off to take care of that other business. Give me a call when it is done.”
Matthew winced in pain as Donny spoke to him. Not physical pain, but mental; to Meghan it looked more like whatever Matthew was reminded of made him uncomfortable. She watched as he quietly made his exit, closing the door behind him.
“Now, let’s see who we have here,” Donny said, putting on a pair of reading glasses. “I am going to go out on a limb and say, young man, that you aren’t Meghan. You’d make a terribly ugly Meghan, my good lad.”
Kyle cast his mother a nervous glance and the reverend an uncomfortable grin.
“Come on kid, you have to get used to the ‘bad dad’ jokes if you are going to stay with us tonight. I have a ton of them. It’s okay, you can smile.”
Kyle let out a nervous laugh. “And who, may I ask, are you, sir?”
“The name is Reverend Donny Swenson. I’m also the fill in judge while he’s out fly fishing in Alaska.” Donny stood silently, reading the papers. “Meghan Johnston, you are charged with a pretty serious offense. And since it took place off our shoreline, our own conservation officer has jurisdiction. According to our state laws, I could lock you up for about six months.”
Meghan started crying anew. Terrified of what might happen to Kyle in this situation, she’d be unable to protect him. They’d lose the house if she lost her job. The idea of being the only mother at the university crashing on her kid’s sofa flashed through her mind. “I know sir; I really didn’t have any control of the situation. Believe me, if I could’ve saved the boat, I would have. It all happened so fast. And I just didn’t—”
Kyle put his arm around her. “Sir, a lot of this is my fault. I got lost and didn’t know how to get back. The engine stalled and I—”
“Relax, you two. The law is pretty clear. However, the law is also flexible in matters like this too. How about Mr. Johnston? Wasn’t he on the boat with you? We don’t have to go out looking for another person, do we?”
Meghan shook her head. “No, he’s long since out of our lives.”
“Sorry to hear that. Hate to see the American family torn apart. I’m a widower myself. How about anyone else we need to call? Any close family who’d be worried?”
Meghan wiped her tears with the tissue Shelly handed her. “No, sir.”
Reverend Swenson smiled at them and moved to the roaring fireplace in the corner of the living room and threw in the arrest paperwork. “Well, that takes care of that matter, I suppose.”
Kyle watched the man in amazement. “You’re dismissing the charges?”
“Well, neither one of you looks like a hardened criminal. And really, if the roles were reversed I doubt I could have fared any better. There is a condition though, and it’s literally not negotiable: you stay here tonight. The bridge out of town took damage in the storm and we have no way to get you home by boat until morning. This part of the lake isn’t safe with all the debris jarred loose in the storm. So, you’ll stay here as my guests.”
“How about a cell phone? Can I call the resort and let them know where we are?”
The reverend shook his head. “Sorry, cell towers went down a little while ago too. We just are having no luck today. The storm actually hit us pretty hard. You’re lucky Matthew saw you out there. That’s the price we pay for being so remote.” He straightened up. “Tomorrow the weather is supposed to improve and we can get you out of here after breakfast. The municipal department is already fixing the bridge. Heck, I’ll have Matthew take you back to the resort himself.”
Meghan thought about Mike, sitting there at lunch, waiting for someone who’d never arrive. He was probably thinking the worst right about now. He’d mentioned having to go back to the city tomorrow. With no way to reach him, he’d never know the truth. What if he hated her now?
At least she wasn’t going to face six months in jail. With any luck, she’d be back in her own room at the resort in the morning. On balance, the situation worked out far better than it could have.
“Ehhem …” A voice from the corner of the room broke the momentary silence.
“Oh forgive me.” The reverend shook his head. “Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce my daughter, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth moved forward, sidling up next to Kyle. She tried to grab his hand and he pulled it away. A full foot shorter than he; it was obvious the proximity intimidated him. “It’s nice to meet you … Kyle,” she cooed.
Taking a step back, his face went a deep shade of red. “Nice to meet you as well.” Kyle moved toward and just slightly behind Meghan for protection from the overeager Elizabeth.
“In the meantime,” Shelly spoke up, “Meghan, let me get you dry clothes. I have things that’ll fit you from when I was younger and thinner. A little out of date, but it’ll be drier.”
The idea of dry clothes sounded pretty good to Meghan right now. “That would be superb.”
“Great,” Shelly said. “While you two take showers, I’ll get the clothes. We’ll get you settled.”
“And then we’ll all sit down and have a nice dinner,” the reverend said.
“Really, I don’t want to put you out. I feel awful about all of this. I’m sure this isn’t exactly the way you wanted to spend this evening.”
He held up a hand. “I’ll hear nothing of it. The powers that be ordained that our paths cross, and I’d be a terrible minister if I didn’t offer my hospitality. I’ve been blessed in this life, and it’s my highest honor to share it with you, if only for one evening.”
Kyle spoke up, “Thank you reverend. I know my Mom and I are anxious to get back to the resort in the morning.” He glanced over at Elizabeth who stared up to him, with a doe eyed gaze. “Under the circumstances, it’s nice that you offered to let us make the best of a bad situation.”
“Polite boy, isn’t he?” The reverend gave a paternal and at the same time condescending nod toward Kyle. “Meghan, you should be proud.”
Missing his condescending look, Meghan sighed and smiled at her son. “Reverend, you don’t know the half of it.”
“Please, call me Donny. Most everyone does. While you are getting settled, Shelly and Elizabeth will give you the grand tour. I have a ton of work to attend to, so I’ll see you at dinner.” Donny turned and disappeared into the office, closing the doors behind him. The door locked, snapping in place with an odd metallic formality.
Shelly gave Meghan and Kyle a tour of the house. Elizabeth practically clung to Kyle at every step. He rebuffed her attempts to take his hand, smiling in relief when he was able to close a door between them.
Meghan took her shower first. Returning to her room, she found the softest bath towel she’d ever felt. The soft terrycloth texture stood out in sharp contrast to the cold terror that had been Lake Oleander. The shower helped, but when she closed her eyes she could still feel the cold murky water around her, threatening to engulf them. She sat down on the bed thinking through everything that happened. Kyle was right: it’d make a good story.
Thankfully, a rap on the door disturbed her moment of self reflection. Meghan answered, “Who is it?”
“It’s Shelly, dear, may I come in?”
She hiked up the bath towel, covering herself. “Sure, come in.”
Shelly entered with a pile of clothes in her arms. She laid them down on the bed with a maternal smile. “Here you go. I think I found everything you’ll need to be comfortable for tonight. We even found clothes that’ll fit Kyle. He’s a tough one, long and skinny.”
Meghan leafed through the clothes. They we
ren’t perfect, but they’d suffice until the morning. It definitely beat wearing an orange jumpsuit and sleeping behind bars. “Hey, Shelly, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.” The woman, with hair more gray than brunette and wearing reading glasses was easily ten years older than Meghan.
“The reverend seems like a nice enough guy. Is he always this cordial to guests? I mean, he seems like he is going out of his way for us.”
She patted Meghan on the hand. “Oh, that’s just the reverend’s way. Yes, he’s just that nice to everyone. He believes in treating all guests as if they were The Master himself.”
“The Master?” Meghan asked.
Shelly’s cheeks suddenly flushed, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have. “I mean God himself,” she stuttered, “that’s what I meant. Treats everyone as if God himself had come to his door, and the good reverend has to take them in. A genuine, kind-hearted man. Don’t worry about a thing. ” Shelly stood and left the room without another word.
The Master? She’d heard God referred to by many different names, but never The Master. While her family had always gone to church, they weren’t as steeped in religious teaching as they probably should be. Shelly’s exit seemed odd. Some might call it hurried, as if she suddenly developed a fear of Meghan.
She put on the clean tee-shirt and pants. Although unfamiliar, the dry material energized her. Being stuck in a cold lake and almost drowning made one appreciate dry clothing and a warm shower that much more. Not as good as her own stuff, back at the resort, but shipwrecked beggars facing felony charges couldn’t be choosers.
She attempted to bring her untamed locks under control when there was another soft rap on the door. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Mom,” came Kyle’s voice.