Claw

by Katie Berry

  These days, the old loft boasted a hay-free dining area, and the only hay you’d find up there now was coming from the patrons. It seemed, as customers took their first bite of a Burger Barn Angus Double-decker Cheese and Bacon Burger, some of them would invariably say, “Hey! This burger's delicious!” So one day, since it seemed like it was now a regular phrase coming out of people’s mouths, Ed decided to make it official and ensconced an engraved Douglas fir plaque at the bottom of the spiral staircase that read, ‘The Hey Loft!’

  Across from the loft seating area and the kitchen, numerous tall, plate glass windows ran up the entire front wall of the building. Each large window was separated by enough wood to ensure the wall’s integrity while giving customers a fantastic view of the local mountains on the clear days, when they occasionally arrived, such as today. The interior of the restaurant was currently bathed in golden, mountain sunshine that beamed through its sparkling windows.

  At the zenith of the loft over the kitchen stood one of the most curious curios of all, a two-metre tall, two hundred kilogram, wooden indigenous person. In days gone by, the imposing figure would have stood in front of a five and dime store. And in fact, it had done so for many years in the neighbouring town of Driftwood. The detail of the intricately carved figure was amazing, and Ed knew he had to have it the moment he saw it on display at Sal’s Sloppy Seconds Store. He relocated it to a special ledge that he'd built at the apex of the barn’s high vaulted ceilings, much like the spot where Jesus Christ would have perched on his cross in a Roman Catholic church.

  The local indigenous people who ate at the Burger Barn knew that Ed and Marie didn’t mean any disrespect to them by having the statue in the restaurant. In fact, the front of their menu stated that Ed and Marie were thankful and honoured to be able to feed all of their amazingly loyal customers. It also mentioned their immense respect for their indigenous customer’s heritage, and that they were grateful for being allowed to operate their restaurant on aboriginal unceded territory.

  And the local natives also appreciated the irony. The Aboriginal Peoples of Canada had suffered greatly at the hands of European settlers with their desires to ‘save’ the Indigenous residents from themselves through Jesus. But through the settlers’ use of their relatively ‘new’ seventeen hundred-year-old patriarchal religion known as Christianity, more often times than not, they did more harm than good.

  Now, local Aboriginal band members who came to the Burger Barn took some delight in eating at this ‘White Man’s Shrine’, or the ‘Church of the Holy Cheeseburger’ as most of the local tribe members now facetiously called it. They sat there along with all of the other patrons, enjoying their delicious Angus cheeseburgers in the sunlit ‘Hey Loft’, while high above, the cigar store Indigenous Jesus blessed the room with his dime-store kitsch.

  Looking up at the carved, wooden figure as he entered, the word came to Austin. Treasures, he suddenly recalled, that’s what Marie called the bric-a-brac on the walls sometimes, just like Patricia had. Once more, he felt a pang of loss and loneliness and buried it deep down inside his psyche, meaning to examine it further at a later date.

  Austin stood underneath an unusually large and toothy ‘treasure’ at the moment, one that had been brought in by a local hunter many years back. Affixed to the wall over the main entrance was a sizable grizzly skull, forever frozen in mid-roar. These days, the only thing caught between its fangs were the brilliant rays of sunshine that streamed through the restaurant's dozens of windows. The skull was mounted in front of an old convex mirror, just like they used in convenience and grocery stores in the days before closed-circuit TV took over the job of a clerk’s eyeballs and refracted light. Witty as ever, Ed had engraved another wooden sign similar to the one in the Hey Loft and hung it below the skull. It read: Warning! Animals In The Forest May Be Closer Than They Appear!

  As always, when they walked in, Alex had to stop and marvel at the bleached skull. “Just look at those teeth, Dad! Those things are wicked sharp!”

  Austin craned his neck to look up at it, saying, “That they are, Skipper.” He thought of the creature that stalked the residents of Lawless at the moment and wondered how much bigger the mouth on the beast in the wild was compared to the one over his head. He shuddered involuntarily.

  As if reading his mind, Alex asked, “So is the bear you guys are looking for a bit bigger than that?”

  Austin responded, “Just a bit.”

  “Something like at least three times the size,” Trip added.

  “Holy shit!”

  “Language, Alex!”

  “Sorry, Dad, but that is one humongous bear!”

  “That it is. Tell you what, why don’t we order some lunch and then we can discuss it a bit more, okay?”

  Marie Popov was in attendance at the till today. When the three men approached to order, she said, “Afternoon, gentlemen! What’s your pleasure?”

  Austin smiled, saying, “Hey there, Marie! How’s your day going?”

  Marie nodded her white-topped head as said perkily, “Not too bad, but a little slower than normal, there doesn't seem to be as many people out and about today.”

  “I think a lot of them have been noticing the signs that we planted around town,” Trip added from over Austin’s shoulder.

  “Well, I guess that’d do it! You guys will just have to order extra food today to make up for it!” Marie replied semi-seriously, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

  “Okay, Alex, what’s it going to be today? The usual?” Austin asked encouragingly.

  “Yes, please, Dad!” Alex said, holding his stomach to help muffle some of the extremely loud growls that were currently coming from it thanks to the discussion of food choices. It had apparently decided that now was the time to remind him how hungry he really was after all the work he had done pounding the stakes into the frozen ground this morning.

  Marie said, “That’ll be one bacon, triple-cheese with extra ketchup, hold the onions, hold the pickles. An extra-large onion rings, a side of gravy and a quadruple-thick chocolate milkshake on the side, right?”

  “That’s right! Thanks for remembering Mrs. Popov!” Alex beamed with delight at his order being remembered, and also the thrill of having a ‘usual’ somewhere. He felt very grown up.

  “I know what my regulars like,” Marie replied, with a grin. She and her husband, Ed, had been selling burgers to the residents of Lawless for over thirty years now. After that length of time, she pretty much knew the order of every regular customer that walked through the door. And there were plenty of regular customers, as the burgers at the Barn were some of the finest in the area. Despite the out-of-the-way nature of Lawless, the restaurant drew in burger connoisseurs from as far away as a hundred kilometres, bringing in customers from neighbouring communities such as Driftwood, Silvervale, and Sagebrush on a regular basis.

  “What about you, Austin, the usual?”

  “No thanks, Marie. I think I’ll skip the double cheeseburger today and branch out in a new direction. Today, I’ll have a chicken burger, extra cheese, please! But pair it with the usual Coke, fries and gravy on the side, of course. Thanks.”

  “I would never forget your gravy, Austin!” Marie said, merrily. And what about you, Trip?”

  Holding his own gurgling belly, Trip said, “I’ll have the usual, Marie, thanks.”

  “One Quadruple Bypass Combo, extra pickles, yam fries on the side. You got it, Trip.” The Triple Bypass Combo, or QBC, as it was known in the area, was one of the more popular items on the menu. It consisted of four, five-ounce Angus beef patties, four slices of aged cheddar, two strips of applewood smoked bacon between each patty and was finished with a fried egg on top. Marie rang this last item into the till and then Austin paid with his credit card.

  “Thanks very much, Austin, here you go,” Marie said, handing him his receipt and a small, red plastic sign, tented in the middle like a miniature sandwich board. A white number three was on both sides of it. �
��It’ll be about ten minutes; I’ll bring out your orders out when they're ready.”

  Austin nodded in gratitude. He looked briefly around the dining room, but didn’t see any other customers at the moment and wondered why Marie would need a number to find their table. Just habit after all these years, he supposed, and smiled, thanking her.

  The three men moved to one of the sizable pine tables scattered around the main floor of the restaurant near the tall, plate-glass windows.

  After taking their parkas off and getting comfortable, talk of the latest scores in the NHL became the topic of interest, with all thoughts of the bear temporarily forgotten. Alex’s passion for the game became evident as he dutifully listed off all the winners and losers, including their final scores over the last several weeks.

  Less than ten minutes later, Marie was at their table with the food, saying, “Here you are, boys.” She placed the meals on the table in front of the hungry men. She also made sure to leave the stainless steel cup in which Alex’s milkshake had been blended on the table in front of him. The cup contained the excess shake that wouldn’t fit into the tall glass of chocolate heaven that Marie slid in front of the boy’s wide-open eyes. She knew that one of the perks that drew people back to the Burger Barn, again and again, was an attention to detail that some of the bigger places missed. It was amazing how such a little thing as a couple of extra ounces of milkshake, that may have otherwise been thrown away, was able to bring such a huge smile to this young man’s face.

  “Wow, thanks, Marie!” Alex exclaimed, eyeing the tall, frothy shake with the moisture beading on its sides. “You’re the best!”

  “Not a problem, Alex,” she said with a laugh, “Just trying to keep everyone happy. Is there anything else you boys would like?”

  “No, thank you, Marie, I think we’re all good.” Austin flashed her a quick okay sign as he spoke and picked up his crispy chicken sandwich with obvious delight.

  Trip smiled, nodding in agreement with Austin's comment to Marie, then attacked his QBC, extra pickles bulging from between the patties, with a fervour that only a true carnivore could appreciate.

  Watching the boys tearing into the food seemed to trigger something in Marie's memory, and she said, “Austin, one other thing before I leave you boys to devour your food. About that bear they were talking about on the radio today. Is it really as dangerous as they’re saying?”

  “Well, after what happened at Frostbite Fred's last night, I’m more than prepared to answer that with a big ‘Yes.’ It’s huge, and it is deadly. Not something you’d want to meet skulking around out in the fog.”

  "Oh, my gosh!” Marie clucked, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, and I almost saw it last night!” Alex enthused.

  “Really? Were you scared?” Marie asked.

  “Nah, I was okay, my dad was there,” pride evident in the boy’s voice.

  “Well, you guys still be careful if you go out in the woods, then, okay?”

  “We will, Marie, thanks for the great food, as usual,” Austin said.

  Marie smiled and left them to their meals. Austin watched as she stopped at a table near them to give it a quick wipe with her cloth on the way by, no doubt seeing a speck of something that didn’t belong on a table that was already immaculate and gleaming. He had to hand it to Marie and Ed; they kept the place spotless.

  As they were finishing up their burgers and fries, the faint but familiar honk of a hockey air horn and the crowd going wild came from Austin’s parka draped over the back of his chair. Recognising the distinct alert sound his father had set for his phone to notify him of incoming text messages, Alex said, “Looks like you scored another one, Dad!”

  Austin smiled as he pulled out his phone, the email notification now winding down with several bars of the old Hockey Night In Canada theme song at its end. He read the message on his screen, and his smile faded away with the song. It was now replaced by a grim line.

  Picking at the last crunchy little bits of his onion rings on the red-checked paper covering the wicker serving basket from his lunch, Alex watched his father’s expression darken and said, “What is it, Dad?”

  Trip brushed an abundance of bun crumbs from his beard, also noting Austin’s change in demeanour and asked, “What’s up, Boss?”

  Austin looked up, his brow knitted in concern. “Christine’s in trouble.” He closed the text messaging app on his phone and opened his contacts, hitting the speed dial button for the Lawless Police Department. After a couple of rings, Fred Paulson picked up the phone. “Lawless Police Department, how may I direct your call?”

  “Hi Fred, it’s Austin Murphy. I didn’t expect you to be on today.”

  “Hey, Austin, yeah, we’re a little short-staffed this week,” he sighed. “We’ve got three officers down with the flu at the moment. Ivan was supposed to be on shift today, but he called in sick.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Listen, could you put me through to Oscar, please. I have a bit of an emergency here, and I need to talk to him.”

  “Sure thing, hang on a sec, Austin. I hope it’s not your boy, is it? Is he okay?”

  “He sure is, Fred, thanks,” He looked over at Alex with a small smile. “It’s about something else.”

  “All right, just hang on a sec, and I’ll patch you through!”

  “Thanks, Fred.” Austin heard the line disconnect and then reconnect as he was put through to Oscar Olsen’s radio in his patrol car.

  With VanDusen off doing things with the Mayor, Oscar was the only cop on beat in town at the moment, so Austin hoped he wasn’t too busy. The phone receiver clicked once more, and Oscar Olsen’s voice crackled into his ear, breaking up as usual from geological interference. There were constant reception problems in the area due to the local mountains and a current lack of cell phone repeater towers. Amid the static and hiss, Austin heard Oscar say, “Lawless Police Department.”

  “Hey, Oscar, it’s Austin. I need to know where that cavern is located -- now.”

  Olsen’s voice took on a hard edge. “Austin, sorry, man, but I can’t tell you where it is.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Austin asked.

  Olsen was silent for a long moment, then said, “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s the new conservation officer, Christine Moon, she’s up there, and she’s in trouble. She just texted me now.”

  “Trouble? What kind?” Oscar liked the new conservation officer but knew that if he divulged the location of the cavern to Austin, he would be at the bottom of one of the pits up there himself very soon.

  “She didn’t say, and I can’t get through to her now. All she could get relay to me was that she was in trouble. I know she was looking for the bear’s lair up on Gold Ridge.”

  Oscar’s voice softened a bit, and he spoke in a lower voice,“ All I can tell you is that it’s somewhere up along Gold Ridge, not too far from the campsite massacre, maybe about five or six klicks away, heading north.”

  “All right, thanks, Oscar, I appreciate it. Look, maybe you could see if you can get a hold of VanDusen. If he’s up there, maybe he can help her.”

  “Well, right now, I’m just on my way to check up on Geraldine Gertzmyer. She sounded pretty rattled about something. Must be her turkeys again. Anyway, I’ll try to get a hold of him before I do that and get back to you if I can get through. But if you don’t hear from me, well...”

  “I know, thanks for trying, Oscar, I appreciate it. I'll keep my phone handy.” Austin Hung up and looked across the table at Trip.

  “What’s shakin’, Boss?”

  “We need to get up to Gold Ridge.” Austin stood, starting to put on his parka.

  “Is Christine okay, Dad? What did her text message say?” Alex asked, standing and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, concern heavy in his voice.

  “All she typed was, ‘At cavern on Gold Ridge. Need help NOW!’”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The click of a weapon being cocked behind her head was more
than enough incentive for Christine to do as the voice told her.

  “Stand up slowly and put your hands in the air! Don’t do anything stupid, or I’ll blow your fucking head off!”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Christine muttered under her breath, pulling back from the cold, wet, slimy thing into which she’d just stuck her hands. “I caught your sales pitch about that the first time you said it, Sparky.”

  Standing with her back to the light, she raised her hands near her face in compliance with VanDusen’s ‘request’. She grimaced, her nose confirming what she suspected was all over her hands was indeed correct -- the coppery smell so distinctive, she had known what it was even before she could even see it. They were covered in blood. The ultra-white light of VanDusen’s beam illuminated the gore on her hands, making them appear as dark and sticky as if covered in blackstrap molasses. Bile rose in her throat.