“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Becky whispered.
“No, it’s all true. But that’s not the worst of it. Right before the police showed up, it got its maw around a petite little thing like you. In fact, if I remember correctly, she was sitting in about the same position as you on a couch in front of the hearth. She never heard it coming when it bent over her from behind and—”
Eddie, who had sneaked behind the couch as Brian related his tale, jumped up and roared in his best bear imitation.
Becky jumped up and rolled off the couch, screaming at the top of her lungs. Eddie leaped over the couch to cover her mouth while the other three laughed out loud.
The manager showed up seconds later. She glared at them, and they stifled their laughter. She was breathing heavily while holding a stuffed badger in one hand and a hairbrush in the other. “Don’t you think it’s time to retire for the night?” she asked.
“We were just about to,” Deidre said, trying to sound apologetic.
Silently, the five friends walked past the manager to the elevator and took it to the second floor, where they said goodnight and retreated to their rooms for the night.
“What’s up with the stuffed animal?” Deidre asked Brian after they locked their door.
“I have no clue,” Brian replied. “Looks like she was brushing her beaver.”
Deidre laughed and slapped him on the shoulder as he climbed on the bed next to her. “Only you would say something like that.”
She flipped off the light and watched snowflakes land softly on the window. Within minutes they were both asleep.
When Deidre woke, she saw her husband standing at the end of the bed, staring. “You checking me out, handsome?”
“Well, I’d usually say yes, but this time I’d be lying.” Brian had a puzzled look on his face.
“Okay, I give up. What are you staring at?”
“This bed looks like an old hospital bed from the 1800s. It’s got metal headrests and footrests. I didn’t notice it last night.”
Deidre got up and studied the bed. “Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea,” she said.
“I think I’m almost ready to agree. Either they pulled these out of a hundred-year-old psych ward, or they’ve created some sort of S&M sleeping quarters, and this is a swinger’s getaway in the middle of the mountains.”
Becky decided to take the stairs instead of the tiny elevator, which Artie had declared was really a converted breadbox. Eddie, only half awake and in desperate need of his morning caffeine fix, shuffled behind her. The spiraling stairway descended to the main hall, which was adjacent to the dining room. Brian and Deidre were sitting at a small round table, waiting for their friends to join them, but the dining room was otherwise deserted. Becky and Eddie entered and approached the table.
“Where is everybody?” Eddie asked.
“That’s what we’d like to know,” Deidre said. “I can’t believe it’s 7 a.m. and we’re the only ones here.”
The door opened, and a line of people poured into the room and headed for the steaming breakfast buffet like a line of ants advancing toward a discarded jelly doughnut. The room came alive with noisy chatter and the rattle and clink of hungry people filling plates with scrambled eggs, pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, toast, bagels, cereal, and pastry.
“That was weird,” Eddie whispered.
The door opened again, and Artie, wearing dark sunglasses, entered the room. “What’s up?” he asked as he joined his friends. “You four look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did the spirit of the bear of’77 show up last night?”
“No,” Eddie said. “But apparently we’re sharing the dining room with the Stepford guests.”
“Whatever,” Artie said. “I’m famished.” He proceeded to the buffet, and his four friends got up and followed him. They piled their plates with eggs, sausage links, bacon, and toast and brought the food back to the table. Before he sat down, Artie returned to the buffet and filled a second plate with fruit, hotcakes, and a blueberry muffin.
“Are you sure that’s enough?” Eddie asked when Artie came back to the table.
Artie removed his sunglasses and placed them on top of his head. “Probably not.”
The group dug in and enjoyed a surprising good breakfast.
“Did any of you notice the weird beds?” Brian asked after a few minutes.
“Yours too?” Artie said. “I thought they looked cool. Figured I just got the S&M suite.”
“We made use of the stirrups,” said Eddie, who was rewarded with a jab in the ribs from Becky.
“This place used to be an asylum,” Artie said.
“Baloney,” said Becky. “I’m not falling for another tall tale.”
“Wait, there’s baloney?” Artie said as he turned to look at the buffet. “How’d I miss that?”
“Very funny.”
“But seriously, I discovered some interesting information last night. I have trouble sleeping in a new place, so when I couldn’t sleep, I wandered around, checking things out. The lodge has a little library down at the other end of the hall from the elevator. There was information about the history of this lodge right there on one of the shelves.”
“You’re serious?” Brian said.
“Dead serious,” Artie confirmed. “In fact, the manager was correct. That spooky picture above the hearth is definitely the founding father. More like the founding doctor. I read until about four o’clock and learned a lot, but some of the pages had words and sentences completely blacked out. I think it’s common knowledge that this place was an asylum, but there are parts that it seems the current owners want left out.”
“What else?” Deidre asked.
“Apparently, it was only an asylum for about ten years before they converted it to a huge bed and breakfast. What I could make out from piecing things together is that there were some crazy experiments going on way back when. There was nothing definite, but it seems as if some of those experiments resulted in fatalities, and the state or the medical association eventually shut them down.”
“Fascinating,” Becky said.
“So, who’s up for a lobotomy?” Artie asked.
“Not funny,” Deidre said.
“Come on guys, lighten up. This place has been a resort for well over a hundred years now. You all look way too serious. We’re here to have fun, like these other folks.”
Eddie, Becky, Brian, and Deidre looked around at the roomful of people. Men, women, and children were smiling, laughing, and happily stuffing themselves.
“It does look as if they’re all enjoying themselves,” Deidre said.
“It’s settled then,” Artie said, smiling. “Let’s enjoy our time here together like we’re supposed to. If I don’t have my cell or my girl and I can still smile, well, then you four sorry-looking souls shouldn’t have anything to complain about.”
The group agreed, finished their meal, and set about making plans for the day. First on the agenda was more exploration.
A half hour later, the group emerged from the shadows of the old lodge into a world of blinding white. The snowfall had covered the ground to a depth of ten inches, and trees wore a mantle of snow like heavy white capes. Bright sunlight illuminated the frosted forest with its brilliance.
“Time for a smoke,” Artie whispered. He lit up a cigarette, put on his sunglasses, and struck a pose. On the lookout for the old groundskeeper, he glanced left and right before flipping the ashes off the end of his smoke. “Don’t want to get reprimanded,” he said to Eddie.
“Those are going to kill you,” Eddie said.
“Not if something else gets me first.”
The group decided to follow the trail back toward the old cabin so Becky could take pictures with her camera. Along the way, she took snapshots of snow-laden trees, dripping icicles, and frost-covered vegetation. Suddenly there was a crashing sound from the underbrush, and a rabbit darted onto the trail and ran uphill. Becky snapped a picture just as another rabbit appeared and took off runn
ing in the same direction.
“That’s bizarre,” Deidre said. “It looks as if those rabbits are scared.”
“Yeah, they’re running like scared rabbits,” Artie said.
There was a skittering sound, and they turned to see two squirrels spiraling their way down a tree. They leaped onto the trail and took off up the hill as if they were in hot pursuit of the rabbits.
“Maybe someone told all the critters about the food bar,” Artie said.
“Or maybe all the critters are afraid of something out here,” Deidre said.
The group brushed her concerns aside, and they continued to the cabin. As soon as they got there, Becky began snapping pictures. The other four scouted the area for more animal life but found none. Becky circled the cabin, taking shots that she planned to piece together into a panoramic view of the cabin and its surroundings. She mounted the porch, and as she peered at the front door through the camera lens, she spotted a name on the door—Graybeard.
Just before she pressed the shutter, the door swung open and a man yelled out. Becky was so startled that she tripped and fell backwards. She cried out as a loose board flipped up and just missed hitting her. The old man standing at the door was the groundskeeper they had encountered the day before. He was laughing so hard that he started coughing like a consumptive. Eddie appeared and helped Becky up. Artie and Brian arrived and glared at the old reprobate, who was still laughing and coughing.
“What is wrong with you, you freak?” Artie yelled at him.
“Things and things,” the old coot replied. “Whispers in the woods. Shadows all around us.”
“You’re one sick puppy,” Eddie said.
“What’s wrong?” the old man said. “Can’t you kids take a joke?”
“My girlfriend could have gotten seriously hurt,” Eddie replied. “That’s not a joke.”
Despite the freezing cold weather and the snow-covered ground, the man was again dressed in cutoffs and a chambray work shirt. The only difference from yesterday’s attire was a pair of rain boots.
“The cold is evil,” he muttered. “Dress warm, think warm, stay safe.” He yawned and giggled.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” Becky said. “I’m fine.” She looked at the groundskeeper. “And I appreciate a good joke as well as anyone.” She turned back to her friends. “Whether it’s a rampaging bear jumping out from behind a couch or a groundskeeper popping out from behind a cabin door, huh guys?”
“Yeah, no harm, no foul,” Artie said as he flicked his cigarette butt onto the ground.
“What are you kids doing peeking in here, anyways?” the groundskeeper asked.
“It was my fault, sir,” Becky said. “My uncle used to have a cabin just like this one, so I wanted to take some pictures. It brings back warm memories.”
“My twin, the good one, used to live here,” the groundskeeper said. “He’s long gone now, of course, dead and buried. But I like to come and check in on it every once in a while, make sure it’s still safe.”
“That’s good of you,” Becky said.
The old man’s gaze seemed to drift, as if he were staring at something deep in the woods. “Safe, safe, safest place in the woods. Signs and secrets will save you.” He shook his head and his eyes returned to the here and now. “I’m done here. You should be too.”
The old man brushed past the group and went to the trail. He began walking up the hill, toward the lodge. He turned and called out, “You are welcome back, though. Remember, it’s safe, ha-ha-ha. Safe.”
The group stared at him, then returned to the trail to continue their explorations. As they went their way, they heard the man shout one more warning. “Be careful what you take pictures of, pretty lady. You never know what you’ll catch on film.”
“I like him,” Artie said as they continued down the trail. “I think we should adopt him and take him home with us.”
“Only if we tie him to the roof of the Escalade,” Brian said.
They found their way back to the lake and walked almost the whole way around, nodding toward the fishermen who stood here and there along the lakeshore. They were hoping to find the derelict canoe, so they could salvage it and take it out on the lake. Around one o’clock, with no sign of the canoe, the group decided to trek back to the lodge and settle in around the hearth to wait for dinner. They also decided not to take the trail and, instead, make their way through the trees.
As they began to climb, Deidre heard the splash of a paddle and turned to look back at the lake. The canoe was there, with a single occupant.
“Looks like someone else found it,” Brian said.
“What happened to the fishermen?” Eddie asked.
Brian looked around, but the fishermen were gone. “I don’t know. Maybe they went home for lunch.”
“Or maybe the Loch Ness Monster ate them for lunch,” Artie said.
They headed back toward the lake as the canoe approached the shoreline, hoping to get a better view of its passenger. Deidre thought he resembled the groundskeeper, but the man was slightly hunched over, and she couldn’t get a good look at his face. He continued to paddle, switching his stroke from one side to the other in a slow, steady rhythm.
“Hey, there,” Brian said as the five approached the shoreline.
The man raised his head to meet their gaze. He had pure white eyes, and his head trembled as if he were having a seizure.
“Real good,” Artie whispered. “The five of us can’t find one little canoe, but a blind guy with Parkinson’s can?”
“Let’s get out of here,” Deidre said, and no one objected.
When they got back to the lodge, a family with eight children and numerous uncles, aunts, and grandparents had taken up the area in front of the hearth, so the five friends repaired to the coffee bar in the dining room.
“Is it just me, or does anyone else think that something isn’t quite right about this place?” Eddie said after they’d gotten mugs of steaming hot coffee.
“I don’t think it’s just you,” Brian said. “We’ve been out all day, and we’ve seen no one else except for that crazy caretaker, a handful of disappearing fishermen, and some blind guy who looks like an Indian.”
“Ah, kemo sabe,” Artie said. “What you make of that?”
“The parking lot is full, the lodge is swarming with people, but we never see anyone else outside,” Brian said.
“Surely they aren’t all lounging around the lodge all day,” said Deidre.
Artie started whistling The Twilight Zone theme.
“Maybe it’s time for a little detective work,” Eddie offered.
“Wait a minute, I think I’ve got it,” Artie said. “We’ve wandered into a murder mystery dinner theater, like the one we went to last year.”
“Seriously,” Eddie said. “I think we should do a little snooping.”
“I’ll check out the basement,” Artie said. “There’s gotta be a dead body or two down there.”
“I don’t know,” Deidre said.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Artie said. “Where else would they hide the dead bodies?”
Artie drained his coffee mug, stood up, and announced, “If I’m not back in ten minutes, send for the Texas Rangers, the 82nd Airborne, and the French Foreign Legion.”
“You need to go after him, Eddie,” Becky said as Artie left the dining room.
“If he’s not back in ten minutes, I’ll drink another coffee, wait ten more minutes, then go,” Eddie said. “Or call the French Foreign Legion.”
Artie made his way into the dark basement, trying to think of something clever to say about his investigation after he returned to his friends. The stairs descended to a landing before taking a ninety-degree turn to the right. Just before he got to the landing, a young boy wearing swim trunks and a towel around his shoulders bolted up the lower flight of stairs and around the corner, nearly knocking him down.
“Sorry,” the boy said, before continuing up the stairs.
Art
ie caught his breath and continued down. Instead of bodies, he found a huge game room filled with decade-old video games, pinball machines, ping pong tables, and an indoor pool at the end of a hallway. The place was packed with children swimming, playing, and running around. There didn’t seem to be an adult in sight until he spotted the manager sitting in the lifeguard’s chair, blowing her whistle at a few children who were roughhousing in the deep end. The woman was wearing the same skirt suit she had worn the day before.
“Boo!” Artie said when he returned to the coffee bar.
“Well, what did you find?” Eddie asked as Artie plopped into a seat next to him.
“It’s a morgue.”
“Really?” Becky asked, astonished.
“Beck, you’ve got to quit being so gullible. It’s actually full of kids. They’ve got an indoor pool and a game room.”
“Well, I feel a little better now,” Deidre said.
“By the way, I saw that the hearth area is free,” Artie said. “Why don’t we steal those couches by the fire before the Beverly Hillbillies come back?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Brian said.
They claimed their places near the hearth, where they conversed quietly and watched the snow fall outside. They enjoyed another good dinner and then once again retired to the hearth, this time with a few bottles of wine. It was past ten o’clock when the manager showed up.
“I am hoping you are all enjoying your stay,” she said, flashing a gap-toothed smile.
“Yes, we are, thank you,” Deidre replied.
“Well, if you need anything, any more wine, anything at all, just let me know.”
“Actually,” Deidre said, “today, we saw an old man in a canoe. He looked like he was blind. I thought I better tell someone. Wouldn’t want anything happening to him.”
The manager chuckled. “Oh, child, who have you been talking to, love? The caretaker? That’s just an old tale the locals conjured up after Lou Graybeard died. The canoes have all been put away for a month now. The only thing we keep on the lake this time of year is one pontoon boat. And that’s to give the caretaker something to do in his spare time. He likes to tell the tale of Graybeard’s ghost paddling the lake, his spirit bound to the place where he drowned. Don’t let it give you a scare.”
Long, Cold Winter Page 2