Storm on the Horizon

by Kathi Macias

  Chapter 5

  “Mom, can we burn the kerosene lamp tonight? No lights. Just the lamp and the wood stove, that’s all. Wouldn’t that be great?”

  Kate smiled, as she watched her son dry the last of the dishes from their fish supper and put them in the cupboard, then turn to her expectantly. He had always loved snuggling up next to her in front of the wood-burning stove with nothing but the soft glow of the kerosene lamp to brighten the room. She had to admit, those were very special times, and she, too, cherished them deeply.

  “I don’t see why not, Sport,” she answered, drying her hands on a paper towel. “But let’s go for a walk first. What do you say? It won’t be dark for a couple of hours yet. It’s still fairly warm out, but we can take our windbreakers just in case.”

  “Sure,” Jason agreed, his dark eyes twinkling as a grin spread across his face. “That would be perfect.”

  Kate laughed. “Yes, it would, wouldn’t it? And you can’t get much better than perfect.”

  Jason raced off to grab his windbreaker from the wall peg just inside his bedroom door. Kate thought about reminding him not to run in the house, but decided against it. After all, they were on vacation.

  “I’m ready,” he announced, hurrying back into the kitchen while he stuffed his arms into his jacket sleeves.

  “So I see,” Kate said. “Well, I guess I’d better hurry up and get ready, too, or I’ll get left behind, won’t I? Just let me get my jacket and—”

  “I’ll get it for you,” Jason interrupted, turning around and running back out of the room before she could say another word.

  The evening air was dry and warm as they made their way down the path away from the cabin. There had been no afternoon storm to interrupt their day in the sun, and the light breeze, which occasionally tossed their hair, was a welcome one, filled with the soft, not-quite pungent scent of cedar. They walked slowly, silently, along the path that wound its way lazily through the canopy of aspens and cedars, the dainty leaves of the aspens shaking and shimmering in the fading sunlight. The crunch of dry leaves and twigs beneath their feet was the only sound that invaded their peaceful domain.

  “Mom,” Jason whispered, grabbing her arm. “Look.” He pointed toward a nearby clearing where a graceful doe and her two fawns stood motionless, as if in a freeze-frame, eyes wide and ears twitching almost imperceptibly, scanning the horizon for danger.

  “Do you think they see us?” Jason asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” Kate answered. “Just don’t move. Maybe they’ll relax, and we can watch them for a while.”

  They stood still, watching, waiting, breathing softly. Kate’s legs were beginning to ache when, finally, the doe flipped her tiny white tail, twitched her ears one last time, and hopped gracefully off into the woods beyond the clearing, her two fawns scampering along behind her. Kate breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Jason, who was still staring, enraptured, at the distant stand of trees where the deer had disappeared.

  “Aren’t they beautiful, Mom?” he asked, still whispering. “Aren’t they just the most beautiful things you ever saw?”

  Kate slipped her arm around her son’s shoulders. For once, he didn’t resist or act embarrassed. She wasn’t sure if it was because there was no one around to observe them or because he just hadn’t noticed.

  “They are, honey,” she agreed. “They are very, very beautiful. Everything up here is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Jason nodded, then turned suddenly toward Kate. “Well, let’s get going,” he said, his spell of silence obviously broken. “Maybe we can see some more animals before we go back to the cabin.” Leaving the path, he started toward the clearing where they had seen the deer, heading in the direction of the trees on the far side.

  “Wait a minute,” Kate called, hurrying to catch up. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should stay on the path. We don’t want to wander too far this evening, you know.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Jason begged, turning his dark, soulful eyes on Kate imploringly. “Just as far as the trees. Please?”

  It was a look Kate had never been able to resist—not from Jason or from Tony. The strong reminder of her late husband suddenly made her feel very, very lonely. She took her son’s hand.

  “All right,” she sighed. “If you promise to hold my hand so I won’t get lost.”

  Jason laughed. “Oh, Mom!”

  They walked quickly into the clearing, stopping briefly in the middle when they discovered a small stream trickling through the tall meadow grass. Remnants of an abandoned beaver dam kept Jason fascinated for several minutes before Kate urged him on, reminding him of the late hour. Jumping the stream at its narrowest point, they crossed to the other side of the clearing and sat down to rest on a rotting tree stump. A tiny chipmunk, seemingly unafraid, paused briefly on a nearby rock to study them. But as soon as Jason made a move toward him, he scurried away.

  “We really should be getting back,” Kate said, standing up and brushing off the back of her jeans. “It’ll be dark soon and—”

  She jumped when she heard the shot, instinctively grabbing her son and pulling him down with her as she dove to the ground behind the tree stump. Terror gripped her throat like unseen talons, squeezing unmercifully until she was certain she could breathe no more. And then she heard it—a harsh, gravelly voice that growled like an angry bear.

  “Who in tarnation are you, and what are you doin’ trespassin’ on my property?”

  Kate peered over the tree stump cautiously. There in the middle of the clearing stood what seemed to Kate to be a huge mountain of a man, wearing a menacing scowl and brandishing some sort of rifle in front of him. Even in the fading light of day, he looked vaguely familiar. Kate swallowed and shook her head slightly, trying to clear her mind. Of course! Chester Greeley. How could she have forgotten? She and Jason must accidentally have stumbled onto the property surrounding his cabin. And anyone who had spent any time at all at Panquitch Lake knew that old Chester did not take kindly to strangers. Tony had always referred to Chester as a “throwback,” assuring Kate that he was harmless. She had never quite believed her husband, however, and now she was sure he had been wrong.

  She clutched her son to her side, trying to keep him from popping his head up to peek at Chester. She had to stay calm, to talk to Chester Greeley—for Jason’s sake.

  She swallowed again. “Hello, Mr. Greeley,” she called shakily, surprised she was able to speak at all. “I’m Kate Ames, and this is my son, Jason. We’re staying at the cabin just up the path. You know, Richard Waters’ place. Richard Waters was my father. You remember him, don’t you?”

  Chester’s scowl deepened, and he scratched his dirty white beard with one hand, the rifle still held high in the other. Then he shook his head.

  “Nope. Don’t know no Richard Waters,” he said, placing both hands back on the stock of his gun. “Don’t know you, neither.”

  Kate was on the verge of tears, but she was too terrified even to cry. She had to try again.

  “Mr. Greeley,” she began, “maybe you don’t remember my father, but you used to know him, I assure you. He’s dead now, but—”

  “And that’s what you’ll be,” Chester threatened, raising the rifle to his shoulder, “if you ain’t cleared outta here in one minute!”

  Kate’s heart was hammering so hard she thought it would burst right out of her chest. Should they get up and make a run for it? Surely he wouldn’t really shoot them...would he?

  “One minute!” Chester yelled. “And time’s runnin’ out fast!”

  Before Kate could decide anything, Jason had torn free of her grasp and stood up, staring straight at the old man and his raised gun. She jumped up, stepping in front of Jason in an effort to shield him from Chester’s sight.

  “That’s better,” Chester said. “Now, git off my property. Go on, git!”

  Kate took a few tentative steps into the clearing, pulling Jason along beside her, edging slowl
y, carefully, out and around Chester Greeley. Then they broke into a dead run, stumbling blindly in the direction of their cabin, not stopping to rest until they were safely inside with the door locked behind them. Kate could still hear Chester’s final words echoing in her ears: “And don’t come back if you know what’s good for you!”

  Gasping for air, they fell onto the sofa in front of the picture window. Silent, unable to speak, they waited for their lungs to stop heaving. Even then, Kate was sure her heartbeat would never return to normal. When Jason finally spoke, Kate could hardly believe his words or the excited tone of his voice.

  “That was Old Man Greeley, wasn’t it?” he asked. “I remember him—sort of, anyway. Grandpa used to tell me about him. He’s been here a long time. Grandpa said hardly anybody else stays up here in the winter, but Old Man Greeley does. Grandpa said it’s because he turned into a hermit when his wife died. Now he hunts and fishes and lives off the land, just like in the old days. Isn’t that cool, Mom? Wow, I’d like to do that someday. Do you think Old Man Greeley would teach me how to shoot a gun if I asked him?”

  Kate’s eyes opened wide in horror. “Jason Ames!” she cried. “How can you even think of such a thing? Why, that crazy old man almost killed us. And you heard what he said he’d do if we ever came back.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Jason argued, his eyes pleading with her once again, “he wouldn’t really shoot us, would he? He’s just grumpy, that’s all. Maybe if I asked him real nice—”

  “I forbid it,” Kate said, able for once to ignore that plaintive look in Jason’s eyes. “I forbid you ever to speak to Chester Greeley. And I want you to be very, very careful to stay away from his property. Do you understand me, Jason?”

  Jason dropped his eyes and didn’t answer.

  “Jason,” Kate repeated, reaching out and tilting his head up with her finger. “Answer me, young man.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jason mumbled. “I understand.”

  But something told Kate they hadn’t seen the last of Chester Greeley.