Just Intuition

by Fisk, Makenzi

  Allie noticed that he had poured her an extra generous amount. She took a cautious sip. It tasted delicious. She took another. "We are installing a new EVPL for the Health Region to integrate into the existing network and take advantage of an upcoming fiberoptic opportunity." Allie stopped when she was met with blank looks from both Thomas and Liz.

  "EVPL: Ethernet Virtual Private Line Service," she explained.

  "Graphics and pretty picture guy here." Thomas laid a manicured hand on his Hugo Boss clad chest. "Liz's boy Jimmy is only four years old and I swear he knows more about computer programming than I do."

  "And I'm a mom who works part-time at the window factory, has three little brats and a husband on perpetual night shift." Liz raised her hand like a kid in school. "No computer techie speakie understood here." She laughed, a spontaneously melodic sound.

  Allie grinned back. Like their parents, both siblings exuded warmth and were immediately likable. She sat forward and took another sip of blueberry wine. She had never been much of a drinker but this was quite good. With brief instruction, Cribbage proved to be fairly straightforward. It was all about fifteens and thirty-ones, and not getting stuck behind the dreaded Skunk Line.

  "Fifteen-two, fifteen-four." Liz counted while she laid down her cards.

  They neared the end of their game and dinner was nearly ready but there was still no sign of Erin or her dad. The kids marched through their second excursion of the kitchen, dog in tow, looking for pre-dinner snacks. Fiona's nose twitched as she air scented. A tiny hand snatched a piece of cheese from a tray and it soon disappeared into the dog's waiting mouth. Fiona had her ways. With her soft brown eyes, she often took advantage of children and little old ladies. As a result, the wily canine had devoured the lion's share of pilfered treats. Allie grinned. She had lost count of how many times Thomas had refilled her glass and the room seemed much warmer than when she had first sat down.

  The girls stopped their sneaky kitchen foraging long enough to circle the table and examine their mother's cards. Allie could see them counting on their fingers. Liz introduced them as Sophie and Victoria.

  "Mama named me after Auntie Vicky because she saved her from a grizzly bear when she was a baby." Victoria stretched her hands over her head like bear claws and assumed a dramatic tone. "All Auntie Vicky had was a butter knife and her big brave voice and she fought the bear all by herself!"

  "And I'm named after a Swedish princess!" Sophie said. "She was the most beautiful in all the land and I look exactly like her!"

  Liz laughed and shooed the kids away from the table with a wave of her arm. Thomas smirked and palmed the girls candies from his pocket when they ran past.

  Jimmy stood on his toes and peeked at the box on the kitchen counter with Allie's pie. He clucked his tongue like a serious old wife. "Is that store-boughten pie made out of cardboard like mama says?"

  Liz shushed him too late and she avoided Allie's eyes, concentrating on her cards.

  "I know where you can pick blueberries to make a real pie for next time," he whispered earnestly, patting Allie's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll show you."

  "I'm not much of a baker," she whispered back with a forgiving wink to Liz, "but maybe we can pick blueberries some time."

  Jimmy leaned on Allie's arm and examined the cards in her hand. "Are you gonna get skunked?"

  "I don't really care," she confessed. "It's a good game anyway." Thomas surreptitiously poured more blueberry wine into her glass and she playfully frowned at him.

  Jimmy pointed to the Seven of Hearts, the Five of Clubs and the Three of Spades in Allie's hand. "That should help." He nodded approvingly when she used the cards to make a couple of points and then draped himself across her lap.

  "You sure must fish a lot." Jimmy inquisitively touched the skin on her arm.

  "I've actually never been fishing. Why would you think that?"

  "Well, you have such a dark tan!"

  "Jimmy!" Liz leapt from her chair and reached for her son.

  "My tan!" Allie laughed. "I work indoors, in front of a computer all day long and I certainly don't have a tan. I was born this color."

  "You don't have to—" Liz's face turned purple.

  "It's okay," Allie said patiently and Jimmy twisted in her lap to peer at her face. "My mom was Irish and my dad was Ojibway. I have brown skin like him."

  "Okay." The four year old twisted back over and let his arms dangle to the floor. Sometimes it was as simple as that. Fiona curled up beside her chair and he brushed his fingers back and forth across her fur. The dog snuffled appreciatively. There was an undeniable sense of warmth and comfort surrounding her, and she liked it.

  "Why don't you girls go outside and play until dinner is ready?" Ellen chided them. She stopped one more little hand from snitching a crouton. It was beginning to dawn on Allie that they weren't only sisters, but twins. They weren't dressed identically, as mothers of twins often do, and they had very different haircuts.

  "There's too many blackflies out tonight!" Victoria hovered close to her mom and blinked wide blue eyes. "If blackflies can eat a whole moose, don't you think they would eat me too?"

  Thomas laughed out loud.

  "It's gonna get dark soon!" Sophie exclaimed.

  Outside, the sunset painted the sky with pastel hues of pink and orange. Most of the daytime songbirds no longer flitted through the bushes outside the window and the breeze calmed. There was a stillness that had not been there when she'd come. As if the woods knew the day was winding down, it tucked in its little ones for the night.

  "I don't want the Bog Monster to get me!" said Victoria. Wide-eyed, all their earlier precociousness evaporated and they crowded toward their mom.

  On her lap, Jimmy's body stiffened too. Allie patted his shoulder in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

  "Who scared you with that old swamp tale?" Liz put down her cards and scooped the girls together as one.

  "Uncle Thomas did!" Two little fingers pointed directly at Thomas.

  "Lots of folks around here say it's true." He shrugged innocently.

  "There's nothing in that bog except Johnny Fiddler's four wheeler that he sunk when he was a teenager. It's probably sitting underneath the old beaver lodge and their little kits ride it for fun." Grandma Ellen winked at Jimmy and his sisters, who all mirrored the same incredulous expression. "Why don't you kids go watch the Disney Channel until dinner?" She turned and pointed a stern, silent finger at Thomas whose impish grin evaporated. The children did as they were asked and the blaring TV provided a layer of background noise.

  "Once again, Uncle Thomas traumatizes my kids." Liz waggled a finger at her brother in a startlingly accurate imitation of their mom.

  "You have to admit," Thomas said, "weird things happen near the bog."

  "Is that the place they call the floating bog?" Allie's head spun and her chest tightened at the memory. She clenched one hand around her glass to mask the trembling.

  Breathe.

  A burning lump ignited in her throat and she gulped a mouthful of wine but inhaled instead. She gasped and choked for a long moment before she could calm herself and breathe normally again. Thomas and Liz were polite enough not to comment.

  "People say it's haunted," said Liz, after Allie had composed herself. She leaned conspiratorially forward in her chair and shot a sideways glance at her kids who were enthralled with whatever was on TV.

  "Erin took me there last week," Allie said flatly. Liz stared at her and Thomas spent an inordinate amount of time shuffling the cards before he looked up.

  "Sure it's pretty, but that would not be my best spot for a romantic date." He slowly and deliberately dealt out the cards. "Erin hasn't any sense. No one goes out to the bog unless they must. Everyone in town believes it is haunted. Now look what's happened to Mrs. Johnson! The only other person foolish enough to live near there is old man Gunther, but see what it's done to his life? He might as well be dead too. Something evil is out there. It howls on summer ni
ghts—"

  "That's enough of that old story." Mr. Ericsson stood on the porch outside the screen door, wiping his hands on a rag. "There is no bog monster and that's no kind of conversation for Erin's new friend." He came into the kitchen, and Erin loped in after him.

  "We fixed the boat motor," Erin said, her confident posture signifying satisfaction. She took the rag from her dad. Giving her hands a wipe, she frowned at dirty fingernails. "Dad says he's found a good fishing spot up on the big lake. Maybe we can go next weekend." She headed for the bathroom to clean up. Her dad swiped a piece of cheese from a tray on the counter and popped it in his mouth. Then he gave his hands a quick wash in the kitchen sink.

  Mrs. Ericsson turned out to be a fantastic cook. Allie enjoyed every mouthful of roasted turkey and twice-baked potatoes. It reminded her of home cooked dinners growing up with her foster parents and Allie was beginning to want to belong to this clan too. Although a little shy on the outside, the inner warmth of these people was enchanting.

  When dessert time came, Erin's mom slid a fresh baked fruit cobbler to the rear of the fridge and brought out Allie's 'store-boughten' blueberry pie. Everyone took a piece and no one made a single face while it was consumed. The kids smothered theirs with mountains of fresh whipped cream.

  They said their good-nights and Erin shepherded Allie down the walkway to the car. Allie's blueberry wine buzz had diminished after Erin returned and figured out what her siblings were up to, but she was still fuzzy. Erin squeezed the exhausted dog into the backseat and took command of the driver's door.

  "I'll drive," she stated, fetching the extra key from her leather bag. Allie held two palms up in supplication.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Erin navigated the end of the driveway and was past the mailboxes before she managed to find the Mini Cooper's headlight switch. Twin yellow beams efficiently illuminated the dirt road ahead. She gunned the engine and aimed the car straight down the middle, picking up speed and dodging memorized potholes. A sliver of moonlight trimmed the tops of trees and thick brush became a blur on either side.

  Allie was not used to such darkness. In the city, there was always ambient light from somewhere and nights were never this dark. She did like being able to see so many stars. She had no idea there were this many. The Milky Way splashed across the sky and she now appreciated how it had earned its name. Somehow, she was calm and secure for the first time in years. She had not drunk alcohol for a long time and was unaccustomed to the fuzziness it produced. The sky was so beautiful, so vast.

  "Those are the cutest kids I ever met," she mused. "Your aunt Vicky must have been pretty tough to fight off a grizzly bear!"

  Erin puckered her eyebrows. "What?"

  "And I suppose the part about you being descended from Swedish royalty was made up too?" Allie gave her a wink. "It would have been quite a feather in my cap to be dating a Princess!"

  She burst out laughing. "I can't believe they were telling you the old family tales. My family loves to make up fairy tales to entertain the kids. There are no grizzly bears around here and our ancestors were farmers and maids, not royalty!"

  Allie smiled. The royalty claim was pure fun, but the story about the grizzly bear really had her going. She knew alcohol made her much too gullible. "I don't care. I love those kids. Especially little Jimmy. He says he will take me blueberry picking."

  Erin eyed her suspiciously. "I don't think I've ever seen you drunk before. What are you talking about? You hate kids."

  "I don't really hate kids. I just never met any I liked before. I always had snot-nosed foster brothers getting into my stuff and little foster sisters stealing my socks."

  "That hardly sounds like a federal crime worth hating all children for." Erin dodged another pothole. Allie didn't bother bracing herself for the abrupt maneuver and bobbled along with it.

  "You're right. I think I was a bit spoiled by my foster parents. They treated me like their own from the beginning and I must have been jealous of their attention. Even though they were never able to adopt me, I knew I belonged and was loved. I guess I was a little brat. I doubt I made it easy for any of the other kids who came and went."

  "I'm sure you weren't all that rotten," Erin said, "otherwise how would you have grown up to be so wonderful?"

  Allie sloppily punched her arm. "Yeah, I love you too." Sobering, she squinted at Erin. "But you better be honest with me from now on. None of that cloak and dagger crap. I don't like being manipulated."

  "If you'll give me the chance to prove it, I promise you'll never have a reason to mistrust me again."

  Allie suddenly groaned. It was as if the pressure in her skull literally strained at the cranial sutures. Hunched over, she dropped her head into her hands, hair twisting through fingers. Unbidden, disturbing images writhed their way into her brain. She struggled against them, but finally weakened and could no longer resist.

  A crescent moon winks down through the tangle of angry steel and dead branches. The shadow figure growls like a feral animal, rolling a boulder against the jagged metal shapes. Crouching behind for one last swallow from a shiny can. Rocking back and forth in malevolent glee and tossing the can into the pile. Red and white. Red and white. Find it. The shadow dissipates into the trees like smoke, dripping evil residue in its wake.

  * * *

  "Are you going to be sick?"

  Allie squeezed her eyes tight and locked her lips in a grimace of pain. In the subtle glow of the dashboard panel, her face drained of color. Erin knew something was wrong when she struggled to release her seatbelt.

  "Do I need to pull over?"

  Allie pushed her door open and extended one leg.

  "Stop!" Erin reached out. Her hands faltered on the steering wheel and the car swerved violently, skidding sideways when she stomped the brake pedal to the floor.

  Already in motion, Allie landed before they had fully stopped. She stumbled to one knee, then righted herself.

  "Wait!" Erin yelled. She jammed the shifter into park but Allie was already walking purposefully up the road. Fiona squeezed out the open door and raced to block her path. She changed direction to outmaneuver the dog and continued on. Fiona followed, bumping her thigh with her body. She reoriented herself and kept walking, the dog circling and bumping every time she took a step.

  Erin disentangled herself from her seatbelt and punched the button for the car's four-way hazard flashers. Lesson One at the Police Academy was to protect the scene and yourself. It would make the situation worse if another car smashed into theirs on the dark road.

  "Where are you going?"

  Allie did not answer, continuing toward a tight bend. Erin sprinted to catch up and took her by the arm. Dark brown eyes reflected the night sky. Her expression was placid, like a sleepwalker, and there was not a flicker of recognition. Allie turned her face and Erin's eyes followed her gaze. Just on the other side of this blind corner was a grotesque pile of rubble that had not been there when they'd come. She looked back at Allie's widened eyes and understood.

  They approached the haphazard barricade cautiously. Old tires, twisted metal from long deceased farm machinery, mounds of brush and deadfall, and a medium sized boulder were jumbled together in the middle of the road. It would have taken a fair amount of time and effort to assemble this junk heap and Erin gave a low whistle. Damage to the Mini Cooper, and to them, would have been substantial if they had not stopped.

  Allie stood in front of the pile but looked beyond. "Watching us. Waiting." Fiona made a guttural canine sound halfway between a growl and a whine, tucked her tail and ducked behind Allie's legs.

  "Who's watching? Who's waiting? What is going on?" Erin squinted into the dark. She backed toward the car, where her pistol lay in her bag. There was not a sound. Not a snapped twig, not a rustle of wind in the leaves. They had left the headlights far behind them at the corner and only inky blackness lay ahead. Adrenaline coursed through Erin's veins. She clenched her fists.

  Sharp pain between her shoul
der blades stunned her and a small rock skittered to the road at her feet. She whirled around, enraged. Not a single branch stirred and she could not make out a thing. The dog stared ahead, body rigid, hair on end.

  "Who is out there? This is not funny! You could have caused an accident!" Silence mocked her. "This is a criminal offense!" She almost laughed at herself. Her voice in the darkness sounded so pathetic. She chose a substantial looking stick from the ditch and gripped it in her hand. It made her feel better.

  Keeping the stick nearby, Erin heaved items from the barricade off the road. Anger boiled up and, swearing vehemently under her breath, she pitched them as far as she could with each throw. It was strangely gratifying to hear them crash into the undergrowth.

  She kept one eye on Allie who, still a little dazed, rummaged through the pile of rubble like a raccoon. To get her attention, she nudged her shoulder, but Allie kept searching. She picked up an item, discarded it and picked up another. Finally satisfied, she wordlessly held out a beer can to Erin like a prize.

  "I think you've had enough tonight, baby." Erin gently took the can from Allie and guided her by the shoulder. "I guess this is why you so rarely drink." Erin tossed the can with her other hand, and the red and white label glinted when it spun in the moonlight. It clattered on gravel.

  They walked back the way they'd come, Erin steering Allie like a disabled shopping cart with the dog trailing timidly behind. Fiona yelped involuntarily at a faint crackling in the brush and hair bristled down her spine. All of Erin's senses on high alert, she scanned the brush in the direction of the noise. The stillness was absolute. Erin gripped the stick more firmly and prodded Allie to quicken her pace.

  They finally rounded the corner but no reassuring lights greeted them. The car was a silent black shape. Erin was sure the engine had been running and even more certain that she'd left the four-way flashers on.

  She approached cautiously and opened the passenger door. The keys were gone from the ignition so Erin used the interior lights to look for other signs of tampering. The dog grumbled and circled the car nervously, before hopping up and wedging herself into the rear. There did not appear to be anything else awry. Erin heaved a sigh of relief to see her leather bag stowed behind the driver's seat. She snatched it up and knew from the heft that her pistol was still in its concealed holster. She jammed it into the front of her jeans and was immediately reassured.