Mist, Page 3
JD Jones
Chapter Three
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!”
The screeching, ear splitting scream woke me from a sound sleep. I shot up from beneath my comforter and wiped my eyes trying to get a bearing on what had awakened me.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” It sounded out again.
This was no dream. This was a real scream in the middle of the night. It sounded far away but at the same time it was so loud that it sounded like it was all around me, too.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” The scream came again like someone was in mortal travail over something. There was a mournful ring to the yell. Like someone was lamenting something.
I got out of bed and opened the front door. It was freezing outside after being in my warm bed. I peered through the darkness up the road where I had seen the figure the night before. Nothing. I looked around as best I could with the door opening the wrong way to see in the direction I felt sure the tormented voice was coming from. I wasn't really sure. But I had to focus somewhere.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” Again the voice sounded far away but still very loud. Maybe it was over by the worker's campers. Again I thought there must be a reasonable answer for this disturbance. But for the life of me I could not come up with a rational answer. The voice sounded human and then again – not human. Or maybe a human in such a state of terror and pain that I had never heard such before. My mind was racing a hundred miles and hour.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!”
I shut the door and hurriedly got dressed. I grabbed my coat this time and a flashlight with a strong beam. I had placed it by my chair the night before in case I needed a good flashlight for some reason.
I closed the door and climbed off the deck into the darkness of a moonless night. I clicked on the flashlight and followed my first idea of the sound's direction over the hill. There was a deathly stillness to the night. No bug sounds which was common in winter, but also no animal sounds at all either. That was not common. Everything in the woods had stopped moving to determine the nature of the grisly yelling.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” The sound permeated the night.
It seemed to be all around me and yet not around me. It echoed off the trees and filled the woods with its agony. That was the only way I could describe its effect. Agonizing. Like someone was dying or lamenting the death of a loved one. I don't know where I got the idea but it stuck in my head that I was hearing the agonizing call of someone dealing with a horrible death.
That realization made me increase my step to find this unfortunate soul before matters got worse. I had no idea what worse could be but I felt like I had to help somehow. I moved over the ground as fast as my feet and the rough terrain would allow me to go in the glare of the flashlight.
I reached the campers on the lower side and tried to get my direction again. I was unsure which way to go so I stopped and stared into the darkness as far as my light could penetrate. I was not thinking of earlier fears. All I wanted to do was stop the anguish I heard in that voice. Something inside me said I had to stop it. Somehow I believed I could. Irrational but unmistakable.
I shone the light around but the sound did not repeat itself. For ten minutes I stood still and listened. Nothing came to me. Either I had scared them off or they had finished whatever they were doing. That thought chilled my backbone for some reason. What were they doing on my property? What could possibly create such a howl of anguish?
I checked the campers again and again found nothing. I closed them up and headed back up over the hill to my camper. At the top of the hill I shined the light down to my camper as a way of clearing my path all the way there before retraining the light on the ground immediately in front of me. In the passing flash of light across my camper and the deck, I thought I saw a flash of red light. Like one of those laser pointers. It startled me and I moved my light back over the camper.
I thought I saw a figure by the deck on the second pass but as I tried to get a better look, I tripped over a root on the ground and went down hard. The flashlight flew from my hand and I saw the light wink out about ten feet from me. I scrambled up as soon as I went down and quickly searched and found the flashlight.
As I bent down to pick it up I tripped over another root and fell beside the light. I was blindly patting the ground trying to locate the light again. That was when I heard the breathing. Like someone was running, only not running, just breathing hard. And they were close to me. My adrenaline was now racing through my entire body. Every inch of me screamed, “Run.” Something or someone was very close in the darkness.
I found the light and turned it so I could grasp it by the handle. Picking it up, I banged the light to make it come back on. I flicked the switch several times, but the bulb was broken in the fall. Panic was overtaking my senses and the need to take flight was so overpowering that the adrenaline surge pushing through my legs was having just the opposite effect on my body. I felt weak instead of strong enough to run.
Suddenly, I could smell something like wet leaves and the sound of that heavy breathing on top of it was really unnerving me. I looked around in the darkness but saw nothing. I turned one way and then another. Nothing. A lot of darkness. Not so dark I could not make out the forms of tress close by but too dark to see much further than a few feet away.
I pushed myself up and stood brushing myself off, trying to regain my composure. I could not see if anything was adhering to me from the roadway but I brushed at my clothes out of habit. Fall down. Brush off. I was trying to give my legs time to get their control back. The sound of that breathing was keeping my adrenaline level high. I could not shake the thought that someone was really close to me. But I could see nothing in the darkness close by. If they were there, they had to be in the darkness of the trees further away, off the road. That thought did not bring me any more comfort either.
I half expected to be attacked at any moment. I wasn't calm. I was scared to death. But I was resigned. If my legs could work then going back toward my camper was my only choice. If I was going to be attacked then it was going to happen. Running might get me away, but the fuzzy feeling of control I had running up and down my legs was not very reassuring. Slow and steady was my pace. I had no choice. The raging flow of adrenaline had reduced me to an invalid.
I turned to get my bearings on the camper and realized I could not see it. Instead I had to determine the slope of the road which would point me back to my camper. I wondered why I had not turned the outside light on. Hindsight is such a great thing.
Once I had the slope figured out I knew which direction would take me to my camper. I made one step and then the figure was directly in front of me. A shape. A greater darkness in the darkness. Like staring into the heart of darkness. Every hair on my body stood up and a fear shot through me like I had never known before. What little strength I had left in my legs immediately dissipated. I thought I was going to faint but there was no such mercy. Fully conscious, I realized my legs were frozen in place and my body had failed to respond to anything but fear. My mind kept sending signals to run but the body, filled with the adrenaline flow, only interpreted the messages as some kind of garbled command to wait and see. My brain was screaming, run, but my body was asking, huh?
Like a collection of very dim lights, the figure's shape outlined itself before me. Not solid, like one of the shadowed trees nearby. Not gaseous like a fog. Just something that was there. And the smell of wet leaves was overpowering. I noticed the heavy breathing was also hot. He was that close.
Then he was gone. He didn't walk away. He just vaporized or something. There, then not there. I don't know what scared me more, his being there when I started to walk or his disappearing a few seconds later. A cold chill ran up my spine. My feet were stuck and it took some effort to make my legs work again. My mind told me I was in a race to escape before he came back. I never saw the face, just an outline of a head, but I knew it was a
he. It was a he. And he was not one of my workers.
Limping on both legs, feeling like I had been running for hours, I hurried back down the hill to my camper, found the deck and climbed up on it, reaching the door knob in its familiar place. Then I was inside and I turned the lights on. It was then I realized I had dropped the flashlight on the hill again. Well, it could wait until morning. Nothing was going to get me to go back up that hill tonight.
I sat in my chair and tried to bring my breathing back under control. It took some time before I could convince my mind to calm down. I had no idea what had just happened but whatever it was, it was way beyond my scope of experience. People did not appear and disappear in my world. And what did that strange smelling figure have to do with the screams I had heard just previous to our encounter? I had lots of questions but not one answer.
I do not know what time I had been awakened and I do not know when I once again slipped off to sleep. It never occurred to me to consult the clock. I woke the next morning with the sun streaming in my window beckoning me into another day. I was still sitting on the couch and I looked around as though I expected to see my visitor close by.
Nothing in my life had prepared me for anything like this. I believed in good and evil but I was not so sure about spiritual things like demonic forces and angels and all that. I liked to think that my life was my own and the idea that there were unseen spiritual forces at work around me, fighting battles over my soul, did not reassure me that I had any control.
But last night's events had convinced me that I did not know everything. I had encountered something. Good. Bad. I had no idea. But something was out there. I was convinced it was not a someone, now. It was a some-thing. The words of the pretty officer in town came back to me.
“We'll do what we can to protect your property.” She had said.
I wondered if that meant from things like this as well as people. Somehow, I didn't believe the officer had anything like this in mind.
All day Sunday my encounter was the only thing on my mind. No other thought could wedge itself in for very long. Everything in my life suddenly hinged on this strange apparition that kept accosting me. When I thought about the campground, my thoughts invariably returned to ponder what this figure showing up now meant to my new business. When I thought about sleeping I also thought about being awakened again by that agonizing howl. When I thought about going into town and staying there, it only reminded me that tomorrow morning I had to be right back here to get on with the work that needed to be done. I was scared to go and scared to leave and just plain scared. But of what?
Somewhere around noon time I dozed in my chair inside the camper. Suddenly I was awakened by the camper rocking back and forth as though a great wind had it in its clutches. It shook and shuddered and shook some more. I grabbed the arms of the chair and tried to hold on as the swaying, bucking camper threw me almost onto the floor. Things from the counter and my bookshelf were flying through the air. My adrenaline was racing again and I determined to hold on if nothing else. Then there was a tapping sound. The sound grew louder and became a knocking, pounding, thudding sound. I thought I heard a woman's muffled voice in the racket of the shaking camper, behind the thudding pounding. Or maybe a young child.
Then the camper was still and I was awake and the pounding sound was coming from my door. A woman's voice was calling out. She was asking if anyone was in there. I looked around the camper. Everything was still in its place. Nothing was thrown about by the shaking. It had all been a dream.
Still a little shaky myself, I got up and answered the door. Outside stood the officer from town. She had on a bulky, dark blue coat with a huge radio stuck to one hip and a large gun on the other hip. She looked very official. Very daunting.
She smiled her smile at me and instantly I felt better. I wiped at the perspiration on my forehead and pushed the door open further, inviting her in. She accepted the invitation and scooted in quickly, turning sideways through the door to keep the equipment on her hips from banging the doorway. She pulled the door closed behind her but not before a gust of wind pulled the door away from the camper and I saw her police car parked just in front of the deck.
“To what do I owe this honor?” I tried to sound gallant. It struck me that I had a desire to please this woman. Not just because she carried a gun either.
“Just out for a ride, patrolling the town and decided to include your place in my zone. Any more vagrants wandering your property?” She answered nonchalantly.
Not wanting to show my fear to her, I decided not to tell her about the thing that had scared me in the woods last night.
“No. All quiet here.”
I hoped she could not see through my thin charade of being brave about this whole thing. It didn't matter that she knew nothing of what had scared me. It was enough that I knew and that I was scared of it. It made no sense not to tell her and ask for her help accept that it also made no sense to tell her and ask for her help.
She looked around my camper taking in my bachelor quarters, no doubt. It was not a cursory glance. Not just a quick look around. It was more like an inventory. I got the feeling she was checking me out and part of that was seeing how I lived.
“Pretty neat in here,” she smiled at me.
“I like things in order.” I answered.
“Thought maybe a man living alone out here for months might need a cleaning service or something,” she laughed. I liked the sound of her laugh.
“No, I'm pretty good about picking up after myself,” I admitted.
“Quite the reader, too.” She motioned toward my book shelves.
“When I can.”
“Well, just wanted to make sure you were okay out here and to let you know I'll take a pass by whenever I'm out on patrol.” She put her hand on the doorknob to leave.
“Well, I sure appreciate the effort, officer.”
“Kathy,” she volunteered. “We're pretty informal out here, in case you hadn't noticed.”
“Been too busy fending off the stares to notice,” I tried to make a joke but it came out more like an attack.
“Yeah, well, just remember. You're the stranger here. We already know each other. It'll take some time for us to get to know you.”
“That's where we're different,” I smiled warmly. She gave me a strange look.
“How?”
“I accept people first and make them prove they are unworthy of my friendship. Long as they treat me right I'm their friend,” I explained.
“Nice way to look at things,” she smiled. She hadn't turned the doorknob yet.
“One way.”
“Well, the police are your friend, Mr. - uh …”
“Corwin. John.” I supplied.
She smiled at me with a wider smile than I had seen yet.
“Okay, John. I'll be your friend. Don't be surprised to see me checking on you often.”
“Why's that?”
“Cause I take good care of my friends.”
Was she flirting with me? I couldn't tell. I was never any good at those things.
“I appreciate that.” It was all I could think to say.
For an awkward moment we just stared at each other saying nothing. Then she gave me another smile and turned the knob. The door popped open and the winter wind swirled in around us. I followed her out onto the deck. Out of reflex, I closed the door behind me to keep the heat inside.
She moved to her car and got in. I waved as she backed up and drove out the road she had come in. I saw her taillights brighten briefly at the top of the rise and then the car was gone. I felt alone again. Alone scared me now.
Monday morning the guys returned and we got back into our routine of digging ditches, laying water lines, sewer lines and electrical lines. The morning was cold but we worked up a sweat by lunch time when we were ready to stop and rest a bit. I felt an urgent need to finish so we had worked a little harder or faster. If asked about it then, I could not have explained it. Now, I think I sense
d someone or something trying to stop me from building my campground. Silly, maybe. Or maybe I just needed the extra activity to put the strange figure out of my mind. Whatever it was, I felt the strange figure in the dark meant me no good.
The afternoon passed and I let up on pushing so hard. With each passing moment I felt more in charge of my property again. We made good progress in a patch of sandy ground devoid of any tree roots. By the time the men were ready to go home, I was feeling good about my campground. It was getting done. Things seemed normal again, back on course.
With the men gone and darkness settling in, I felt a familiar sense of foreboding return to my mind. Alone again. Alone yet not alone. Like I expected another appearance of the strange visitor. Part of me dreaded it. Part of me expected it. I even entertained thoughts of what would happen if potential campers got wind of him. Would it make my campground more popular to have a ghost on the grounds?
There I said it to myself, finally. A ghost. I believed with every part of my being that this strange figure did not mean to increase my business. Something told me he was not here to draw campers but to frighten me away. Or worse.
I awoke several times during the night, each time listening intently for sounds that didn't belong. But the night passed uneventfully. I, on the other hand, had not slept near as well as I needed to for the work ahead of me.
Tuesday morning I dragged myself out to the work just as the men arrived. Like a train, they followed each other down the road to park near the worker's campers. I set them to digging more ditches and laying more lines while I concentrated on attaching the electrical meters to the posts we had set yesterday. Hopefully we would have these last two sections complete by the end of the week so the electrician could power up the next phase of the camp. I was anxious to get lights around the road ways. But I dared not to let on to the guys about my strange visitor.
By late afternoon we had reached a section of ground laced with tree roots of all sizes. It slowed us down to almost a stop. My little tractor was not strong enough to rip the roots out, so we were reduced to digging and cutting through the flexible, underground latticework of wooden obstacles. It took all of us working in short shifts to keep moving. For the final two hours of our day we only made about ten feet of progress. And it looked like another thirty feet before we would be out of it tomorrow.
I patted the guys on the back and thanked them for the hard work, telling each of them I would see them tomorrow. As they loaded back into their vehicles and made their dusty ways back over the rise I felt strangely alone again. The sun was low on the horizon as I topped the rise back to my camper. All I was thinking about was a long, hot shower and a good supper. I had thawed out a steak to go with a baked potato.
As I approached my camper, I saw something on the edge of the deck. The shadows were already lying heavy across the area so I could not readily identify what was there. It was small and dark. That was all I could tell. I wondered what one of the guys had left behind at lunch.
When I got close enough to see the object clearly, I recognized the outline of a small shoe. An old, dirty, sneaker that someone had left for me. It was not lost on me that the sneaker sat exactly where the old, dirty sock had a few nights previous. Slowly I allowed my head to turn left and right and look hard into the woods surrounding my camper. Someone had left an old, dirty sneaker on my deck. I wondered if somehow it belonged with the dirty sock.
Satisfied that no one was in my immediate vicinity, I climbed the steps and approached my door. I felt the hairs on my neck raise up before I registered anything else. Someone was there again. I could not see them but I could feel them. As quickly as it happened it stopped. Then I was alone again.
I heard a noise on the road and recognized the crunch of gravel under the wheels of a vehicle. One of the guys returning. When the vehicle came in sight I could see it was the Sheriff's car again. Once the car started down the hill, I could see Kathy smiling from behind the steering wheel. I stood motionless at my door watching the welcome visitor come to a stop, park and exit her vehicle.
“How's it going, John?”
Her voice seemed a bit too cheerful for what I had felt only moments before. It threw me into a quandary of how to answer. My mind was still battling suspicion. I also realized I was in fight or flight mode. Her cheerful greeting pulled me back to a world I had vacated for a moment without realizing it.
“Uh – hi, officer.” I managed.
“Kathy,” she reminded me.
“Kathy.”
“Everything still okay?” She gave me her smile and all my previous thoughts melted away.
“Just finishing up another day.” I announced.
“Saw your workers at the end of the road.” She motioned back toward the front gate.
“Yeah. I thought one of them was coming back for something when I heard your vehicle.”
She smiled at me. I was sure she was flirting with me. At least I wanted it to be that way. Her eyes danced around and twinkled like she had a secret. Either that or she was checking out my dirty, sweaty exterior as I stood scared and motionless on my deck. Maybe she was turned on by sweaty guys. I had read somewhere that some women liked that sort of thing.
“What's that you got there?”
“A shoe or something that someone left on my deck. One of the guys must have dug it up and tossed it here.”
“Why not throw it away?” She walked closer, climbing the steps up to me.
“Don't know. Was kind of thinking the same thing myself. Seemed strange to walk it all the way over here when they could have tossed it in the dumpsters down where we were digging.”
“You never know about people,” was all she said about it. Good. I did not want to have to talk long enough to explain my thoughts about it.
“So what brings you out here, Kathy?” I liked saying her name.
“Just checking on you. I've got the late shift, tonight. So, I thought I would swing through here and let you know I'll be around this evening if you need me.”
“Well, the police certainly are being very friendly. I feel more at home now than ever.” She smiled at my inference to friendly police.
“I am making it my personal task to see to it that you enjoy being part of our community here.”
“You are doing an admirable job of it, too,” I tried to smile back without seeming like an idiot. For some reason I always felt like an idiot around her.
“I'm glad to see that you are okay and that you have completed another day of building your campground. I hope it was a good day.”
“Pretty good until we ran into that section of tree roots where we were digging at the end.”
“Have to expect tree roots in the ground when you dig in the woods,” she laughed.
“And junk, too,” I held up the dirty shoe.
“Probably,” she laughed again.
I laughed too. Just to be doing something with her. It felt strange to be laughing in that campground atmosphere. Like it was out of place. Like laughter did not belong here or something. Well, the children of the soon to come tourists would change that, I thought.
“Well, I gotta go. I'll probably be passing by here on patrol again around eleven or so,” she volunteered.
“Stop in for some coffee, if you like.” I offered. “I'm usually still up. The lights will be on if I'm up.”
“Maybe I will.”
She stepped backwards off the deck, like she had something else to say, then said nothing. She headed for her car. I watched her walk away feeling pretty sure she was flirting with me. She backed in a tight turn and pointed her car up the road. I continued staring after her until her taillights disappeared over the hill in a swirl of dust from the road. Again I felt the shroud of being alone envelope me. I was beginning to not like being alone as much as I once had. I was trying to decide if Kathy had anything to do with my feeling that way when a stiff, cold breeze blew across the deck and drove me inside. Quickly, I stepped inside and closed the door. I
tossed the dirty sneaker in the trash where I had thrown the dirty sock only a few nights before.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!”
The screeching, ear splitting scream woke me from a sound sleep. I shot up from beneath my comforter and wiped my eyes trying to get a bearing on what had awakened me.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” It sounded out again.
This was no dream. This was a real scream in the middle of the night. It sounded far away but at the same time it was so loud that it sounded like it was all around me, too.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” The scream came again like someone was in mortal travail over something. There was a mournful ring to the yell. Like someone was lamenting something.
I got out of bed and opened the front door. It was freezing outside after being in my warm bed. I peered through the darkness up the road where I had seen the figure the night before. Nothing. I looked around as best I could with the door opening the wrong way to see in the direction I felt sure the tormented voice was coming from. I wasn't really sure. But I had to focus somewhere.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” Again the voice sounded far away but still very loud. Maybe it was over by the worker's campers. Again I thought there must be a reasonable answer for this disturbance. But for the life of me I could not come up with a rational answer. The voice sounded human and then again – not human. Or maybe a human in such a state of terror and pain that I had never heard such before. My mind was racing a hundred miles and hour.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!”
I shut the door and hurriedly got dressed. I grabbed my coat this time and a flashlight with a strong beam. I had placed it by my chair the night before in case I needed a good flashlight for some reason.
I closed the door and climbed off the deck into the darkness of a moonless night. I clicked on the flashlight and followed my first idea of the sound's direction over the hill. There was a deathly stillness to the night. No bug sounds which was common in winter, but also no animal sounds at all either. That was not common. Everything in the woods had stopped moving to determine the nature of the grisly yelling.
“Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” The sound permeated the night.
It seemed to be all around me and yet not around me. It echoed off the trees and filled the woods with its agony. That was the only way I could describe its effect. Agonizing. Like someone was dying or lamenting the death of a loved one. I don't know where I got the idea but it stuck in my head that I was hearing the agonizing call of someone dealing with a horrible death.
That realization made me increase my step to find this unfortunate soul before matters got worse. I had no idea what worse could be but I felt like I had to help somehow. I moved over the ground as fast as my feet and the rough terrain would allow me to go in the glare of the flashlight.
I reached the campers on the lower side and tried to get my direction again. I was unsure which way to go so I stopped and stared into the darkness as far as my light could penetrate. I was not thinking of earlier fears. All I wanted to do was stop the anguish I heard in that voice. Something inside me said I had to stop it. Somehow I believed I could. Irrational but unmistakable.
I shone the light around but the sound did not repeat itself. For ten minutes I stood still and listened. Nothing came to me. Either I had scared them off or they had finished whatever they were doing. That thought chilled my backbone for some reason. What were they doing on my property? What could possibly create such a howl of anguish?
I checked the campers again and again found nothing. I closed them up and headed back up over the hill to my camper. At the top of the hill I shined the light down to my camper as a way of clearing my path all the way there before retraining the light on the ground immediately in front of me. In the passing flash of light across my camper and the deck, I thought I saw a flash of red light. Like one of those laser pointers. It startled me and I moved my light back over the camper.
I thought I saw a figure by the deck on the second pass but as I tried to get a better look, I tripped over a root on the ground and went down hard. The flashlight flew from my hand and I saw the light wink out about ten feet from me. I scrambled up as soon as I went down and quickly searched and found the flashlight.
As I bent down to pick it up I tripped over another root and fell beside the light. I was blindly patting the ground trying to locate the light again. That was when I heard the breathing. Like someone was running, only not running, just breathing hard. And they were close to me. My adrenaline was now racing through my entire body. Every inch of me screamed, “Run.” Something or someone was very close in the darkness.
I found the light and turned it so I could grasp it by the handle. Picking it up, I banged the light to make it come back on. I flicked the switch several times, but the bulb was broken in the fall. Panic was overtaking my senses and the need to take flight was so overpowering that the adrenaline surge pushing through my legs was having just the opposite effect on my body. I felt weak instead of strong enough to run.
Suddenly, I could smell something like wet leaves and the sound of that heavy breathing on top of it was really unnerving me. I looked around in the darkness but saw nothing. I turned one way and then another. Nothing. A lot of darkness. Not so dark I could not make out the forms of tress close by but too dark to see much further than a few feet away.
I pushed myself up and stood brushing myself off, trying to regain my composure. I could not see if anything was adhering to me from the roadway but I brushed at my clothes out of habit. Fall down. Brush off. I was trying to give my legs time to get their control back. The sound of that breathing was keeping my adrenaline level high. I could not shake the thought that someone was really close to me. But I could see nothing in the darkness close by. If they were there, they had to be in the darkness of the trees further away, off the road. That thought did not bring me any more comfort either.
I half expected to be attacked at any moment. I wasn't calm. I was scared to death. But I was resigned. If my legs could work then going back toward my camper was my only choice. If I was going to be attacked then it was going to happen. Running might get me away, but the fuzzy feeling of control I had running up and down my legs was not very reassuring. Slow and steady was my pace. I had no choice. The raging flow of adrenaline had reduced me to an invalid.
I turned to get my bearings on the camper and realized I could not see it. Instead I had to determine the slope of the road which would point me back to my camper. I wondered why I had not turned the outside light on. Hindsight is such a great thing.
Once I had the slope figured out I knew which direction would take me to my camper. I made one step and then the figure was directly in front of me. A shape. A greater darkness in the darkness. Like staring into the heart of darkness. Every hair on my body stood up and a fear shot through me like I had never known before. What little strength I had left in my legs immediately dissipated. I thought I was going to faint but there was no such mercy. Fully conscious, I realized my legs were frozen in place and my body had failed to respond to anything but fear. My mind kept sending signals to run but the body, filled with the adrenaline flow, only interpreted the messages as some kind of garbled command to wait and see. My brain was screaming, run, but my body was asking, huh?
Like a collection of very dim lights, the figure's shape outlined itself before me. Not solid, like one of the shadowed trees nearby. Not gaseous like a fog. Just something that was there. And the smell of wet leaves was overpowering. I noticed the heavy breathing was also hot. He was that close.
Then he was gone. He didn't walk away. He just vaporized or something. There, then not there. I don't know what scared me more, his being there when I started to walk or his disappearing a few seconds later. A cold chill ran up my spine. My feet were stuck and it took some effort to make my legs work again. My mind told me I was in a race to escape before he came back. I never saw the face, just an outline of a head, but I knew it was a
he. It was a he. And he was not one of my workers.
Limping on both legs, feeling like I had been running for hours, I hurried back down the hill to my camper, found the deck and climbed up on it, reaching the door knob in its familiar place. Then I was inside and I turned the lights on. It was then I realized I had dropped the flashlight on the hill again. Well, it could wait until morning. Nothing was going to get me to go back up that hill tonight.
I sat in my chair and tried to bring my breathing back under control. It took some time before I could convince my mind to calm down. I had no idea what had just happened but whatever it was, it was way beyond my scope of experience. People did not appear and disappear in my world. And what did that strange smelling figure have to do with the screams I had heard just previous to our encounter? I had lots of questions but not one answer.
I do not know what time I had been awakened and I do not know when I once again slipped off to sleep. It never occurred to me to consult the clock. I woke the next morning with the sun streaming in my window beckoning me into another day. I was still sitting on the couch and I looked around as though I expected to see my visitor close by.
Nothing in my life had prepared me for anything like this. I believed in good and evil but I was not so sure about spiritual things like demonic forces and angels and all that. I liked to think that my life was my own and the idea that there were unseen spiritual forces at work around me, fighting battles over my soul, did not reassure me that I had any control.
But last night's events had convinced me that I did not know everything. I had encountered something. Good. Bad. I had no idea. But something was out there. I was convinced it was not a someone, now. It was a some-thing. The words of the pretty officer in town came back to me.
“We'll do what we can to protect your property.” She had said.
I wondered if that meant from things like this as well as people. Somehow, I didn't believe the officer had anything like this in mind.
All day Sunday my encounter was the only thing on my mind. No other thought could wedge itself in for very long. Everything in my life suddenly hinged on this strange apparition that kept accosting me. When I thought about the campground, my thoughts invariably returned to ponder what this figure showing up now meant to my new business. When I thought about sleeping I also thought about being awakened again by that agonizing howl. When I thought about going into town and staying there, it only reminded me that tomorrow morning I had to be right back here to get on with the work that needed to be done. I was scared to go and scared to leave and just plain scared. But of what?
Somewhere around noon time I dozed in my chair inside the camper. Suddenly I was awakened by the camper rocking back and forth as though a great wind had it in its clutches. It shook and shuddered and shook some more. I grabbed the arms of the chair and tried to hold on as the swaying, bucking camper threw me almost onto the floor. Things from the counter and my bookshelf were flying through the air. My adrenaline was racing again and I determined to hold on if nothing else. Then there was a tapping sound. The sound grew louder and became a knocking, pounding, thudding sound. I thought I heard a woman's muffled voice in the racket of the shaking camper, behind the thudding pounding. Or maybe a young child.
Then the camper was still and I was awake and the pounding sound was coming from my door. A woman's voice was calling out. She was asking if anyone was in there. I looked around the camper. Everything was still in its place. Nothing was thrown about by the shaking. It had all been a dream.
Still a little shaky myself, I got up and answered the door. Outside stood the officer from town. She had on a bulky, dark blue coat with a huge radio stuck to one hip and a large gun on the other hip. She looked very official. Very daunting.
She smiled her smile at me and instantly I felt better. I wiped at the perspiration on my forehead and pushed the door open further, inviting her in. She accepted the invitation and scooted in quickly, turning sideways through the door to keep the equipment on her hips from banging the doorway. She pulled the door closed behind her but not before a gust of wind pulled the door away from the camper and I saw her police car parked just in front of the deck.
“To what do I owe this honor?” I tried to sound gallant. It struck me that I had a desire to please this woman. Not just because she carried a gun either.
“Just out for a ride, patrolling the town and decided to include your place in my zone. Any more vagrants wandering your property?” She answered nonchalantly.
Not wanting to show my fear to her, I decided not to tell her about the thing that had scared me in the woods last night.
“No. All quiet here.”
I hoped she could not see through my thin charade of being brave about this whole thing. It didn't matter that she knew nothing of what had scared me. It was enough that I knew and that I was scared of it. It made no sense not to tell her and ask for her help accept that it also made no sense to tell her and ask for her help.
She looked around my camper taking in my bachelor quarters, no doubt. It was not a cursory glance. Not just a quick look around. It was more like an inventory. I got the feeling she was checking me out and part of that was seeing how I lived.
“Pretty neat in here,” she smiled at me.
“I like things in order.” I answered.
“Thought maybe a man living alone out here for months might need a cleaning service or something,” she laughed. I liked the sound of her laugh.
“No, I'm pretty good about picking up after myself,” I admitted.
“Quite the reader, too.” She motioned toward my book shelves.
“When I can.”
“Well, just wanted to make sure you were okay out here and to let you know I'll take a pass by whenever I'm out on patrol.” She put her hand on the doorknob to leave.
“Well, I sure appreciate the effort, officer.”
“Kathy,” she volunteered. “We're pretty informal out here, in case you hadn't noticed.”
“Been too busy fending off the stares to notice,” I tried to make a joke but it came out more like an attack.
“Yeah, well, just remember. You're the stranger here. We already know each other. It'll take some time for us to get to know you.”
“That's where we're different,” I smiled warmly. She gave me a strange look.
“How?”
“I accept people first and make them prove they are unworthy of my friendship. Long as they treat me right I'm their friend,” I explained.
“Nice way to look at things,” she smiled. She hadn't turned the doorknob yet.
“One way.”
“Well, the police are your friend, Mr. - uh …”
“Corwin. John.” I supplied.
She smiled at me with a wider smile than I had seen yet.
“Okay, John. I'll be your friend. Don't be surprised to see me checking on you often.”
“Why's that?”
“Cause I take good care of my friends.”
Was she flirting with me? I couldn't tell. I was never any good at those things.
“I appreciate that.” It was all I could think to say.
For an awkward moment we just stared at each other saying nothing. Then she gave me another smile and turned the knob. The door popped open and the winter wind swirled in around us. I followed her out onto the deck. Out of reflex, I closed the door behind me to keep the heat inside.
She moved to her car and got in. I waved as she backed up and drove out the road she had come in. I saw her taillights brighten briefly at the top of the rise and then the car was gone. I felt alone again. Alone scared me now.
Monday morning the guys returned and we got back into our routine of digging ditches, laying water lines, sewer lines and electrical lines. The morning was cold but we worked up a sweat by lunch time when we were ready to stop and rest a bit. I felt an urgent need to finish so we had worked a little harder or faster. If asked about it then, I could not have explained it. Now, I think I sense
d someone or something trying to stop me from building my campground. Silly, maybe. Or maybe I just needed the extra activity to put the strange figure out of my mind. Whatever it was, I felt the strange figure in the dark meant me no good.
The afternoon passed and I let up on pushing so hard. With each passing moment I felt more in charge of my property again. We made good progress in a patch of sandy ground devoid of any tree roots. By the time the men were ready to go home, I was feeling good about my campground. It was getting done. Things seemed normal again, back on course.
With the men gone and darkness settling in, I felt a familiar sense of foreboding return to my mind. Alone again. Alone yet not alone. Like I expected another appearance of the strange visitor. Part of me dreaded it. Part of me expected it. I even entertained thoughts of what would happen if potential campers got wind of him. Would it make my campground more popular to have a ghost on the grounds?
There I said it to myself, finally. A ghost. I believed with every part of my being that this strange figure did not mean to increase my business. Something told me he was not here to draw campers but to frighten me away. Or worse.
I awoke several times during the night, each time listening intently for sounds that didn't belong. But the night passed uneventfully. I, on the other hand, had not slept near as well as I needed to for the work ahead of me.
Tuesday morning I dragged myself out to the work just as the men arrived. Like a train, they followed each other down the road to park near the worker's campers. I set them to digging more ditches and laying more lines while I concentrated on attaching the electrical meters to the posts we had set yesterday. Hopefully we would have these last two sections complete by the end of the week so the electrician could power up the next phase of the camp. I was anxious to get lights around the road ways. But I dared not to let on to the guys about my strange visitor.
By late afternoon we had reached a section of ground laced with tree roots of all sizes. It slowed us down to almost a stop. My little tractor was not strong enough to rip the roots out, so we were reduced to digging and cutting through the flexible, underground latticework of wooden obstacles. It took all of us working in short shifts to keep moving. For the final two hours of our day we only made about ten feet of progress. And it looked like another thirty feet before we would be out of it tomorrow.
I patted the guys on the back and thanked them for the hard work, telling each of them I would see them tomorrow. As they loaded back into their vehicles and made their dusty ways back over the rise I felt strangely alone again. The sun was low on the horizon as I topped the rise back to my camper. All I was thinking about was a long, hot shower and a good supper. I had thawed out a steak to go with a baked potato.
As I approached my camper, I saw something on the edge of the deck. The shadows were already lying heavy across the area so I could not readily identify what was there. It was small and dark. That was all I could tell. I wondered what one of the guys had left behind at lunch.
When I got close enough to see the object clearly, I recognized the outline of a small shoe. An old, dirty, sneaker that someone had left for me. It was not lost on me that the sneaker sat exactly where the old, dirty sock had a few nights previous. Slowly I allowed my head to turn left and right and look hard into the woods surrounding my camper. Someone had left an old, dirty sneaker on my deck. I wondered if somehow it belonged with the dirty sock.
Satisfied that no one was in my immediate vicinity, I climbed the steps and approached my door. I felt the hairs on my neck raise up before I registered anything else. Someone was there again. I could not see them but I could feel them. As quickly as it happened it stopped. Then I was alone again.
I heard a noise on the road and recognized the crunch of gravel under the wheels of a vehicle. One of the guys returning. When the vehicle came in sight I could see it was the Sheriff's car again. Once the car started down the hill, I could see Kathy smiling from behind the steering wheel. I stood motionless at my door watching the welcome visitor come to a stop, park and exit her vehicle.
“How's it going, John?”
Her voice seemed a bit too cheerful for what I had felt only moments before. It threw me into a quandary of how to answer. My mind was still battling suspicion. I also realized I was in fight or flight mode. Her cheerful greeting pulled me back to a world I had vacated for a moment without realizing it.
“Uh – hi, officer.” I managed.
“Kathy,” she reminded me.
“Kathy.”
“Everything still okay?” She gave me her smile and all my previous thoughts melted away.
“Just finishing up another day.” I announced.
“Saw your workers at the end of the road.” She motioned back toward the front gate.
“Yeah. I thought one of them was coming back for something when I heard your vehicle.”
She smiled at me. I was sure she was flirting with me. At least I wanted it to be that way. Her eyes danced around and twinkled like she had a secret. Either that or she was checking out my dirty, sweaty exterior as I stood scared and motionless on my deck. Maybe she was turned on by sweaty guys. I had read somewhere that some women liked that sort of thing.
“What's that you got there?”
“A shoe or something that someone left on my deck. One of the guys must have dug it up and tossed it here.”
“Why not throw it away?” She walked closer, climbing the steps up to me.
“Don't know. Was kind of thinking the same thing myself. Seemed strange to walk it all the way over here when they could have tossed it in the dumpsters down where we were digging.”
“You never know about people,” was all she said about it. Good. I did not want to have to talk long enough to explain my thoughts about it.
“So what brings you out here, Kathy?” I liked saying her name.
“Just checking on you. I've got the late shift, tonight. So, I thought I would swing through here and let you know I'll be around this evening if you need me.”
“Well, the police certainly are being very friendly. I feel more at home now than ever.” She smiled at my inference to friendly police.
“I am making it my personal task to see to it that you enjoy being part of our community here.”
“You are doing an admirable job of it, too,” I tried to smile back without seeming like an idiot. For some reason I always felt like an idiot around her.
“I'm glad to see that you are okay and that you have completed another day of building your campground. I hope it was a good day.”
“Pretty good until we ran into that section of tree roots where we were digging at the end.”
“Have to expect tree roots in the ground when you dig in the woods,” she laughed.
“And junk, too,” I held up the dirty shoe.
“Probably,” she laughed again.
I laughed too. Just to be doing something with her. It felt strange to be laughing in that campground atmosphere. Like it was out of place. Like laughter did not belong here or something. Well, the children of the soon to come tourists would change that, I thought.
“Well, I gotta go. I'll probably be passing by here on patrol again around eleven or so,” she volunteered.
“Stop in for some coffee, if you like.” I offered. “I'm usually still up. The lights will be on if I'm up.”
“Maybe I will.”
She stepped backwards off the deck, like she had something else to say, then said nothing. She headed for her car. I watched her walk away feeling pretty sure she was flirting with me. She backed in a tight turn and pointed her car up the road. I continued staring after her until her taillights disappeared over the hill in a swirl of dust from the road. Again I felt the shroud of being alone envelope me. I was beginning to not like being alone as much as I once had. I was trying to decide if Kathy had anything to do with my feeling that way when a stiff, cold breeze blew across the deck and drove me inside. Quickly, I stepped inside and closed the door. I
tossed the dirty sneaker in the trash where I had thrown the dirty sock only a few nights before.
