by A. J. Wynter
“Oh, you’re killing me here,” I replied. “I thought this little car was going to explode trying to make it up these hills.”
“Don’t you worry,” Sadie replied. Head to the car dealership. They’re ready for you there.
“Which one?” I asked.
“Looks like there’s only one in that town. Its address is 72 Main St.”
I looked up to the street sign above me, it was painfully obvious that I was on the main street, it was the only one lined with shops and lamp posts adorned with wreaths, and the sign confirmed it. “I should be able to find it,” I laughed.
“Keep me posted,” Sadie said. I started up the car and my phone switched to the car’s audio system.
“Will do,” I replied, and reached to disconnect the call, but just before I pressed end, Sadie blurted out. “Emma.”
“Yes?”
“Be safe.”
“Always,” I smiled and disconnected the call. Next stop, a new car! (Of course, I said it in my best The Price is Right voice in my head).
Chapter 4 – Chase
THE FIRE HAD TURNED to embers by the time I got back to the cabin. I added the provisions to my pantry and ran my fingers along all the jars that I had canned over the years. If the storm of the century hit, I was ready. I could hunker down in my cabin and not have to see another soul until the spring.
I stoked the fire and threw on a birch log, my favorite because of the satisfying crackle when the bark burst into flames. I loved this time of year. I could plan out my cross-country skiing trails, set up my game cameras, and read. It’s funny. When I was at University, all I wanted to do was party. I only picked up the required readings for my classes, and even then I usually just read the summary online. Now, I looked at the rows and rows of unread books on my bookshelf and worried that there wouldn’t be enough to last the winter. As a matter of fact, I could stay here all winter but the only thing that drew me into town was the library. As much as Marion is sweet on me, she still won’t let me check out books for the entire season.
The old bird had even sneaked a romance book into my stack the last time I left the library. I stick to thrillers or detective novels, so I couldn’t help but laugh when I pulled out the books and saw the bodice ripper cover.
I missed women. I missed them like crazy. The first couple of years were excruciating back here. I think that my laptop almost shorted out from the amount of porn I watched. I’m sure a psychiatrist would have something to say about my self-imposed purgatory here in the mountains, but all I have to say is that I make other people’s lives worse and I shouldn’t be around them. Full stop. The little things in life make me happy out here. Hearing Prickles’ purr, chopping firewood to keep me warm, and eating food that I have hunted or scavenged myself.
I looked at the cover of the book, the woman was blonde like Emma. As a matter of fact, the cover model and Emma could’ve been sisters, with their perfect bone structure, brilliant seductive eyes, and wild blonde manes. I felt a stirring in my pants that I had managed to hold at bay for years. Emma had awoken something in me, and that something was straining at the front of my pants. I set down the book, Emma was prettier than that girl anyway, and eased back, picturing her deep green eyes looking up at me while she bit one of those perfect lips as she unzipped my pants. I reached down to unzip my canvas pants and shimmied them off my body, letting them drop to the worn rug on the floor. I was rock hard, and imagining Emma sucking me off had brought me to the brink of coming without having to touch myself. I slid my hand into my thermal long underwear, my breathing growing raspy, but instead of imagining Emma taking my cock into the warmth of her mouth, I imagined her curled up at the other end of my sofa, reading, playing with her hair and laughing lightly.
I pulled my hand out and rested it on my thigh. Of course, I wanted to fuck someone, but more than that, I guess I just want some company.
I read the back of the book and shrugged, I liked Highlanders, and Braveheart was one of my favorite movies. I cracked it open. I would never admit it in a million years, but two chapters in, I was hooked. I stayed up late into the evening, deep into the world of highlanders, kilts, women, and men with braids.
I fell asleep on the couch and only woke because the fire had gone out and both the dog and the cat were wedged onto the couch with me for warmth. I added some kindling and soon the fire lit up the cabin. I crawled into bed and both Dumpster and Prickles followed me. I set the book down on my nightstand and for the first time in years, I opened the drawer and pulled out the envelope of pictures... the only remnants left from my life as Chase Titan. I flipped through them. Sadie was in so many photos you would think that she was a blood relative.
Wedged in with the photos, was a copy of my parents’ obituary. A full-page from the local newspaper. Stapled to it, Sadie’s mom’s obituary: Lorna Conway.
Being isolated had been hard at first, and on the days I wanted to give up, go home and go live on one of our estates, all I had to do was bring out these clippings and I would remember why I was where I was and why I had to stay here. Everyone hates me. There was no way to come back from what I had done.
I placed the envelope back in the drawer, tucked away underneath my wool socks. I then started planning my next project at the cabin – a wind turbine—but fell asleep before getting anywhere with it. The solar panels were great in the summer, but in the winter, I found myself having to start the generator more than I would like. Its growl was an angry reminder of my failure to live off the elements alone.
I COULD FEEL THEIR breaths before I opened my eyes. Two little paws kneaded my chest while something else’s hot breath fluttered my hair in its exhale.
“Alright, alright,” I opened my eyes and smiled at the two of them. “Let me guess. It’s breakfast time?” Dumpster shot up onto all fours and started wagging his tail a million miles an hour. Prickles gave a crackled meow and ran off to her food bowl.
I pulled back the blankets and shivered, the fire was still going but the nights were getting colder. I shoved my feet into my slippers and padded into the kitchen, ready for some coffee. My neck was stiff from falling asleep on the couch and I couldn’t believe how late I’d stayed up reading about that bastard highlander. The sun hadn’t peeked over the mountains yet, and I wouldn’t be able to do any work for a couple of hours, I justified. If I finished the book this morning, I could take it back to the library and give Marion a hard time for adding it to my stack of books.
Was I looking for excuses to go into town? I don’t think so, I mean the last thing I needed was to run into the blonde again...
Chapter 5 – Emma
I ACTUALLY PREFER STAYING in hotels to vacation rentals. It feels weird to me, sleeping in someone else’s bed, but the options in Windswan were limited, and by limited I mean, if I didn’t stay in this vacation rental, I would be staying at the motel on the highway, the one with five cars on blocks out front.
This house was cute, the bathroom was clean, and the Wi-Fi was decent. It had everything I needed, except cappuccino. I stepped out of the shower and while I was drying my hair, I mentally formulated my to-do list for the day. I had to talk to some of the Windswanians, I made up the moniker in my head, and see what they knew about ‘Jack.’
Sadie had given me some background information about the man, and sure, I mean, it was bad, but I didn’t quite understand why he couldn’t have faced the music, made up for the damage he had done instead of running away. It didn’t make sense to me. I went to Windswan knowing that I was meeting a coward, but now that I saw him in person, he scared me a little bit. His eyes were kind, but his words were harsh, and experience had told me the combination of cowardice and anger does not make a good person.
I swiped on a coat of mascara and a little bit of pink lip gloss. Then I pulled on my new down coat and laced up the hiking boots that were so expensive I wondered if they were made from gold and headed out the door. Two seconds later, I was back, rubbing my hands together. I didn’t
want to trudge through the house with my muddy wet boots, so I grabbed Chase’s leather gloves from the console table and headed back outside to my replacement vehicle, courtesy of Titan Industries.
It was a monster. Sadie couldn’t have picked a more conspicuous vehicle. It was pickup truck with all the fixin’s, those were the salesman’s words, not mine. Chrome, leather, heated seats, huge honkin’ tires, again – not my words.
I backed the throaty sounding truck out of the driveway and headed to the main street of Windswan to start my day. First on the list – coffee. The main street was set up in a circle with a park in the center, and after a few laps, I realized that my only option was a dodgy-looking coffee shop. I parked the truck and hopped out, catching my breath as I literally got hang time from the drop to the ground. I shook my head and slammed the truck door. I knew that Sadie was laughing about this. I was barely over five feet tall, I could use a parachute to get out of the thing, and a ladder to get back in.
Every person in the coffee shop turned to stare at me as I stepped inside. I headed to the counter where a young girl wearing a brown visor and a hair net looked bored. I glanced at the menu above her, handwritten price changes were taped over the lightboard, and my breakfast options were donuts or donuts.
“I’ll have a coffee,” I said to the girl.
“Anything in it?” she asked, chewing on her gum.
“Just cream,” I replied.
“For here?” she asked.
I glanced around the fluorescent-lit room at the orange plastic fixed seats. Several men who looked to be in their seventies wearing blue work shirts sat in conversation by the window. I had to start somewhere.
“Yes,” I smiled. She didn’t smile back.
I paid her the dollar for the coffee headed to the table beside the men. I slid into the booth and winced as I took a sip of my coffee. It was bitter as hell. Snowflakes started to smatter on the glass as I studied whatever storefronts I could see out the window. I pulled up the search engine on my tablet and punched in Windswan, hoping to find another coffee shop, one that sold something to eat other than chocolate glazed donuts.
“Excuse me,” I spoke to the table of men beside me. The closest man, the one sporting the thickest and grayest handlebar mustache I had ever seen, turned.
“Yes, Miss?” His voice was gravelly, the kind that can only be formed from a pack a day habit.
“Is there a grocery store in town?” I knew that I could search online but making contact with the locals was part of my plan.
The biggest, and by big, I mean, round, not tall, man piped up. “You can get everything you need at Bob’s.”
“Bob’s?”
He chuckled, “The general store.”
“They even have an organic section,” the skinny one added. That’s when I noticed that he wasn’t old like the other two, he was probably closer to my age.
“Okay, that’s great. It’s the one across the park?” I pointed to the window in the general direction of the circular park.
“That’s the one.” The big guy nodded.
“What about a restaurant, is there a diner you’d recommend?”
The skinny one leaned back. “Not too keen on donuts, are you?” I realized that I had to be careful, if these men had lived in Windswan their entire lives, they might have some sort of pride for their shitty town. “Oh, I like a donut as much as the next girl, but I’m going to be in town here for a few weeks, and I might want to try something else.”
“He’s just messing with you,” the round man shook his head. If you slapped a white beard and red hat on him, he would make the perfect Santa. “If you’re up for the drive to Chance Rapids, there is a great café there that people seem to really like – known for their tarts.”
“But nothing here?”
“If you’re okay with a greasy spoon, there’s the Railway Diner. It’s open for lunch.” Mustache said.
“Railway diner. Got it.” I smiled at the group of men. “Thanks.”
“Would you care to join us?” Santa asked.
“Sure.” I gathered up my messenger bag and slid into the booth beside the mustache. He extended his hand, “Name’s Sam.” He pointed to Santa, “That’s Ned.” Ned raised his hand and waved at me. “And this ray of sunshine is Gary.” The skinny guy smirked at Sam and reached to shake my hand. His was thin and limp, a deboned fish hand in mine.
“Emma,” I said.
“What brings you to town?” Gary asked and slid his hand out of mine. It was the weirdest, creepiest handshake I had ever experienced, and trust me, I’ve met all kinds. I looked into his eyes and as he gave me a closed mouth smile, I noticed that his eyes were the darkest brown I had ever seen, almost black. His skin was ruddy and pockmarked with the whisper of a mustache more suited to a pubescent boy.
“I’m a reporter,” I trained my gaze on the friendlier blue eyes of Ned.
“What’s worth reporting around here?” Gary scoffed and slurped his coffee. I cringed internally at the sound. “The death of a small town?”
As much as I instantly disliked Gary, I saw the opportunity for that story. “No, I’m doing a story on people living off the land. You know, off-grid stuff.”
“There aren’t too many people like that out here,” Sam said. “The mountains can be an unforgiving place. You’d have to have a few screws loose to want to attempt that out here.”
“I can only think of one,” Ned said and brushed the crumbs from his donut off his shirt.
“I rest my ‘screws loose’ case,” Sam did air quotes with his fingers and leaned back against the bench seat.
“Oh, really, who is that?” I raised my voice in an attempt to sound surprised.
“You don’t want to talk to him,” Sam replied. “You might want to rethink your story. I’ve met a few of those people. We used to call ‘em hermits, I’m not sure what the politically correct term is for them now, but they go into the woods for a reason and it’s not usually to grant cute little reporters interviews.”
My cheeks flushed. I hated that people didn’t take me seriously. I looked younger than I was and yes, I suppose I’m pretty, but instead of seeing that, I wish people could see the lineup of Journalism awards on my shelf. The saying, she’s not just a pretty face... well, that’s my life to a tee.
“You might be surprised. I’ve conducted several interviews already,” I lied. “Who is this, hermit?”
“His name is Jack,” Ned said. “He helped Billy, my rancher friend with his fencing a few years back. He pops into town from time to time. I don’t think he’s a real hermit, but he definitely keeps to himself.”
“Do any of you know him personally?” I tried to hide my excitement. I had struck investigative gold so early in the morning. I glanced around the table, but all the men shook their heads. Ned continued, “As I said, he keeps to himself.”
“Do you know where he lives?” I pulled up a map of Windswan up on my tablet and set it on the table.
“You’re not going to find him on that map,” Gary laughed.
I looked to the other two, more forthcoming, men with my eyebrows raised. I turned the tablet towards Sam. He didn’t look at it. “If a man doesn’t want to be found, he doesn’t want to be found. I’m going to respect that.” I exhaled. I hadn’t anticipated this small-town bro-code stuff.
“But he does go into the general story and I’ve seen his truck at the library.”
The library? This was contrary to any of the research I had done about Chase Titan. He had been known as a party-boy college kid who never went to class. Sadie told me that he was smart, but not book smart.
“Okay. Thanks, guys.” I put my tablet away.
The young girl with the visor approached the table with the pot of coffee. “Would you like some more?” she asked. All the men nodded, but I put my hand over the top of my cup. “I’m good.” I smiled at her. The girl filled the men’s cups and headed back behind the counter to continue scrolling through her phone.
“You have yourself a nice day,” Ned smiled.
“See you around, Emma,” Gary smiled. This time, wide enough that I could see the missing front tooth he had managed to hide throughout the conversation. I nodded. I definitely did not want to see Gary around. “Bye.”
I shot back the last of my coffee and slid out of the bench seat. I shoved my arms into my parka and as I exited the depressing coffee shop, I pulled the hood over my head. I decided to explore the downtown of Windswan on foot. Since the main street was essentially a circle, with the town hall at twelve o’clock and the coffee shop at one, I set off clockwise. I was met with a series of boarded-up shops. It really was too bad because the architecture of the old buildings was stunning. Each storefront had tall bay windows and solid-looking turn of the century doors. In its heyday, this downtown could’ve been a Hallmark film set but today, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a crew pull up to film a zombie movie.
I pulled the strings of the hood tighter as the wind picked up; the last of the autumn leaves were falling heavily, covered in ice. My boots crunched in the skiff of snow and as I reached five o’clock in the circle, I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks on me. A flower shop? If stores selling everyday staples couldn’t make it here, how could a flower shop? I pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside.
“Hi.” A pretty woman with mostly silver hair smiled at me from behind the counter. “Can I help you?” She had the ‘are you lost’ look on her face and tone in her voice.
I leaned down to smell a giant chrysanthemum the color of a ripe June strawberry. “I’m just looking around,” I smiled. “This is a beautiful store.”
“Thank you,” the woman said and continued to clip the stems of some lilies I could smell from ten feet away.