Home of  Mickey Minner

Haunting Memories
@ Copyrighted 2007

PART 1

“What the hell is the meaning of this?”

Linda looked up. “Of what?” she asked the agitated man charging into her office.

He shook a fist in the air, his fingers tightly clutching a sheet of paper. “This!”

She leaned back. “Sorry, Paul. But I have a hard time reading anything being waved about like that.”

“Don’t act so damn innocent.” He threw the crumpled paper onto her desk. “Personnel just sent that over to me. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She picked up the paper and un-crumpled it, smoothing it flat against the top of her desk. “I thought I made that quite clear when I wrote this.”

“Damn it, Linda.”

She pushed her resignation back across her desk to where he stood glaring at her. “You’ll need to give that back to personnel.” She sighed when he made no move to retrieve the document.

“I want an explanation.”

Again leaning back in her chair, she looked around the room. “When you come into this office, what do you see?”

“What?”

“Look around. What do you see?”

His eyes quickly darted around the room. He shrugged when they focused back on her. “Four walls and a desk.”

“Right. Four walls and a desk.” She looked around the office. “Four walls and a desk. No windows. Nothing hanging on the walls. No personal items on my desk. Not even a coffee maker or fridge. Just four walls and a desk.”

“So? It’s the same as a dozen other offices.”

“Is it?” She stood and slowly paced around the room. When she returned to her chair, instead of sitting, she placed her hands on the back of it. “I’ve worked in this office for almost eight years. Every day I come in and sit at this desk. I switch on my computer and read my emails. I check my calendar and listen to my phone messages. Then I get up and walk down to the break room and make myself a cup of coffee which I then carry back here. I place the cup on the left side of my desk to avoid accidental spills on my keyboard. I pull out the folders in my inbox and I begin my work.” She looked at him. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Is this your way of forcing a raise out of me?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Do you want more vacation time? Sick leave?”

Another shake. “No.”

“Then what? Name it and I’ll make sure the company gives it to you.”

“I want more. That’s what I want. I want more.” She shoved the chair against the desk. “I want more than spending ten to twelve hours a day in a windowless room. I want a life, Paul. Can the company give me that?”

“You have a—”

“No,” she cut him off.  “I have an existence. It’s not the same. If I had a life I’d have pictures of people and places that meant something to me. I’d have something to remind me of what was waiting for me when I left here at the end of the day. I don’t have those.” Her voice had been rising but she softened it before continuing. “Why, Paul? Why don’t I have them?” she asked more of herself than her boss.

"I’m not sure I understand. But I do know that this job is an awful lot to just toss aside. Are you sure about this?"

Linda ignored the question. “One nice thing about not having any of that,” she said as she walked to the corner of the room where her jacket was hanging on a simple wooden coat rack. “Is it doesn’t take long to pack.”

“You can’t just walk out.”

“I’m not walking out,” she said as she slipped her arms into the jacket and settled it on her shoulders. “All my assignments are up-to-date. Even that one,” she jerked her chin at the report on her desk. “I finished proofing it this morning. I was just about to sign off on it.” She walked back to her desk and picked up a pen. “There, all nice and proper,” she said after placing the file in her out box. “Here’s my office key. My security pass. My desk key. Computer is right there. I made a list of all my passwords. I’ll print it out for you.” She brought up a file on the computer and pressed a button. “I think that’s it.”

“But…”

“No use putting off the inevitable, Paul. Personnel has my mailing address, you can have my final check sent there.”

“But…”

“If I forgot anything…” She gave the office and desk a final look over. “No. Nothing here to forget.”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“No.”

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

“No.”

“Then how are you going to know if you find it?”

“I’ll know.” She smiled at the man who had been her boss for the past several years. “I’m sorry, Paul. The company has been good to me. So have you. But I can’t do it anymore. There has to be more for me in life than long days in a windowless room. I have to try to find whatever that is.”

“You know I won’t be able to keep your job open.”

She sighed. “That’s okay. I won’t be back.”  

“Will you let me know when you get to wherever?” he asked when she slipped past him as she walked out of the room.

“Goodbye, Paul”

He watched her walk between the petitioned workstations of the office staff to the elevators at the opposite side of the room. “Bye,” he said when she entered one of the cars and disappeared behind its closing doors.

#

Linda locked the door of her apartment then changed her mind. She set down the suitcase she was carrying and re-opened the door. Separating the unit’s key from the rest of the keys on her key ring, she tossed it onto the lamp table just inside the door knowing the landlord would find it when he came to dispose of the furniture and household goods she was leaving behind. It had cost her an extra month’s rent but it was worth it not to have to do it herself. After a final look and shrug of her shoulders, she reached around to the inside knob locking it and pulling the door shut. Picking up the suitcase she walked to her car parked in front of the building.

She laid the suitcase on the back seat before settling into the driver’s seat and buckling her seatbelt. Placing her left hand on the steering wheel, she put the key into the ignition with her right. But instead of starting the engine she just sat staring out the windshield. “So, now what, Linda?” she asked after several minutes. “Where are you going? Damn good question,” she answered herself as she twisted her wrist and the car’s engine roared to life. “Full tank of gas. All my worldly possessions in the trunk. No one to answer to. No particular plans.” She pulled the gear shift out of neutral, notching it down to the drive position. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.” Releasing the parking brake, she checked her mirrors then eased away from the curb. As she drove to the intersection at the end of the block, she mentally flipped a coin. “Heads, right. Tails, left,” she said visualizing the coin flipping in the air. Lifting her foot off the accelerator, she coasted to a stop to wait out the red light. “Heads it is,” she said when the signal turned green.

#

She had been driving a couple of hours when she pulled off the freeway. For some reason, she was bothered by the high speeds and cars racing past her. She stopped at the bottom of the exit ramp and was trying to decide which direction to turn when a horn blasted behind her. Looking into the rearview mirror she saw a man gesturing and screaming at her. She turned to the right and drove a short distance to a vacant lot where she pulled off the pavement. The impatient driver blasted his horn again as he sped past. Making sure she was well away from the road, she turned off the engine, opened the door and got out. 

Linda slowly shuffled around in a full circle taking in the surrounding landscape. She wasn’t that far out of the city limits and, although there were some scattered open lots like the one she was currently using for her impromptu rest stop, subdivisions and mini-malls still dominated most of the area. She longed to see something, anything, but pavement and buildings. Leaning back against the car, she spotted a road sign.

“Frontage Road.” She looked in the direction the sign was pointing. Approximately a quarter mile away, a flashing red light alerted drivers to an intersection. “Wonder where that goes,” she said as she pushed herself off her car and pulled open the door. “Only one way to find out.”

It didn’t take Linda long to deduce that the Frontage Road wasn’t a road in the normal sense of the use but the old highway which pre-dated the newer, wider and faster freeway. She was pleased to discover that unlike the freeway traveling the straightest route between cities, the Frontage Road took a more leisurely path following the contours of the terrain. Cars on the road were fewer and farther between and she was able to drive at a slower, more comfortable speed allowing her time to enjoy the passing scenery. Also unlike the freeway, the old highway actually ran right through the small towns and communities along its route and she found herself stopping in each one and exploring their old buildings and downtown districts.

She was surprised one morning to wake up in yet another nameless motel to find that a week had passed. She was even more surprised to note that it had been the most pleasant week she could remember in quite a long time. She was still smiling when she drove out of the motel’s parking lot determined to find a new highway to explore.

#

The road sign read “Henry’s – 36 Miles”. Without hesitation, Linda slowed at the intersection and turned to follow the arrow. At first, she could sense the road gaining elevation but the climb was so gradual it was impossible to see. But as she drove, the incline became more noticeable and the open fields gave way to groves of aspen trees which, in turn, were replaced by forests of pine trees. Occasionally, a creek would meander out of the trees to flow alongside the road before returning back into the forest. 

She was enjoying the drive and wasn’t too happy when she heard and felt a distinctive rumble- her stomach protesting that she had not stopped since leaving the motel to provide it nourishment. She patted her belly. “Let’s hope that whatever Henry’s is, there’s someplace to eat. Oh my, look at that.” Linda pulled to the side of the road.

The road had topped a rise and spreading out before her was a large mountain meadow. Patches of delicate wildflowers in every color of the rainbow shared the clearing with native grasses that waved lazily on a soft breeze. Mammoth-size boulders, partially buried in the ground, were strewn around as if tossed about like pebbles from her hand, their stone surfaces colored by orange and red lichens. A vast forest of tall pine trees surrounded the meadow; above this lush carpet of green majestic snow-capped mountain peaks glistened in the distance. And over all this, a scattering of puffy white clouds floated in the deep blue sky that seemed to go on forever.

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when something rapped loudly against the car’s window. She turned to see a face peering in at her. “What the f…?” she said, jerking away.

“Problems?” the face asked.

“Shit!” She clutched at her shirt over her racing heart.

The face moved back from the glass and Linda scowled at a woman standing beside the car, a sheepish grin on her face. “Sorry. Thought you might be having car trouble or something.”

She rolled down the window but only a few inches. “No. Just enjoying the scenery.”

“It is something, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“You scared the crap out of me.”

The woman chuckled. “Sorry about that too.”

Linda looked around. “Where’d you come from?” she asked seeing no other vehicles.

The woman twisted at the waist. “Over there,” she said pointing at a trail emerging from the trees on the opposite side of the road. “I better get going. Have a nice day.”

“Wait. Do you know where Henry’s is? Better yet, do you know what it is?”

“Sure. It is a town and you’re not too far from it. Just keep following the road, you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks. Do you… Um… Need a ride?”

The woman shook her head. “No, thanks,” she said walking around the front of the car.

Linda watched as she skidded down the gravel covered embankment then strode out across the meadow. It was only then that she saw a faint trail slicing through the grass. She grinned as she pulled back onto the road. “Nice butt.”

#

Quaint, Linda thought sardonically as she drove into Henry’s. She decided the description of town being attached to the haphazard grouping of a half dozen ramshackle structures was more than a little generous. She pulled to a stop in front of a dilapidated building, sun faded paint across its false front identified it as Store. A sign in the corner of the front window caught her eye. “Interesting,” she murmured as she turned off the engine and set the parking brake. Leaning forward, she crossed her arms on top of the steering wheel and rested her chin on them as she considered the opportunities the sign could present.

While she sat thinking, she watched as an occasional shopper entered the store then left several minutes later carrying their purchases. “Seems busy enough,” she said. “But why?” Puzzled, she leaned back and took a closer look around Henry’s. There were a few vehicles parked around the town, mostly pickups pulling trailers. The traffic on the road cutting between the town’s buildings was light but this didn’t surprise her since she had encountered very few cars on her drive to the town.

Tapping on the car’s window caused her to jerk around and she smacked her elbow on the inside of the door. “Ow. What is it with people banging on my windows?” she asked as she glared through the glass. Standing beside her car was the same woman who had scared her earlier. How’d she get here? Linda asked herself as she rolled down the window. “Hello, again.”

The woman smiled. “I see you found Henry’s.”

“Be hard to miss.”

“Unless you blinked.”

Linda laughed. “Yeah.”

“You’re not having problems, are you?”

“Uh?”

“Well, you’ve been sitting here a while. I thought maybe something might be wrong.”

“Oh. No. I’m fine. I was just thinking.”

“Well, when you’re done thinking, why don’t you come over to the Café. People say it’s got the best coffee in the county. And the food is just as good.”

“Wonderful,” Linda said opening the car door. “I’m starving.” She rolled up the window before climbing out.

“Good. First cup is on me.”

“You’re on. My name is Linda, by the way,” she said holding out her hand.

The woman accepted the hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Linda By The Way? You Indian?”

She laughed at the smirking woman. “No, smart ass. Linda Bottswott. I’m a conglomeration of just about every nationality you can name.”

“Pleased to meet you, Linda Bottswott. And my name isn’t Smart Ass. I’m Barbara. Friends call me Barb. Fools call me Barbie.”

“I’ll remember that. Do you have a last name?”

“Sure do. Same as the town’s, Henry.”

“Really? What a coincidence.”

“Not really. My great-great-great grandfather founded the place,” she said as she led Linda across the road to a building with Café painted on its false front.

“I take it you’re not much into names around here.”

“Uh?”

Linda chuckled and pointed behind them. “Store.” Then she pointed across the road. “Café. Gas,” she said pointing at a second building.

Barb laughed. “Granddad said it saved on paint. ‘Besides,’ he’d always say, ‘makes it easier for the tour-asses to figure out what they is than if they had fancy names.’”

“Makes sense. So is that what feeds the town? Tourism?”

“Mostly. Further down the road is a string of lakes, good fishing, and a dozen or so campgrounds. Folks going to and from help to keep Henry’s alive.” Barb stepped up onto the wide porch of the café, then crossed it and pulled open the screen door. 

Linda took the time to take one more look around the town, her eyes resting a few seconds on the sign in the store’s window. I wonder… she thought before turning to follow Barb.

#

PART 2

The boards of the porch creaked loudly with each step making Linda wonder if they were safe to walk on. When she took a closer look, she discovered many were missing the nails that held them in place and several were badly split or broken. The café itself wasn’t in much better condition with the wood slats covering its sides twisted and curled after years of exposure to the hot summers and frigid winters. “If this is what the outside is like, I can just imagine how the inside must look,” she muttered reaching for the door. The knob felt loose and she was afraid it might come off in her hand as she pulled the screen door open, its hinges squawking loudly in protest. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, she wondered as she passed through the entry. “Damn.”

“Something wrong?” Barb asked when Linda failed to enter the room completely and the screen door slammed into her back. Linda’s feet remained planted in one spot while her head swiveled about as she gazed around the room.

Unlike its exterior, the café’s interior appeared to have been recently remodeled. Two booths, each tucked into one of the bay windows at the front of the café, had benches covered in thick leather seat cushions and backs. Several tables of varying sizes with matching chairs were positioned about the middle of the room and along the sides. A long counter separated the dining area from the open kitchen, its top polished to a bright sheen. All the furniture was made out of pine giving the room a warm, inviting feeling. “I feel like I just passed through a time warp or something.”

Barb smiled. “Pick a spot and I’ll grab the pot. Do you use cream?”

“No,” Linda said as she walked to a booth and slid into it. She scooted all the way to the window to enjoy the view of Henry’s on the opposite side of the glass.

Barb appeared and set two sturdy coffee mugs on the table. “Here you go,” she said as she filled the cups from the pot she carried then set it down on the table before sliding onto the bench opposite Linda.

“Aren’t you afraid that’ll burn?”

“That’s why I made them out of pine.” She rapped her knuckles against the wood. “Almost indestructible. And if they do get damaged, I just go out back and make a new one.”

“You made this? All of this?”

“I had some help. But, yes. Heck of a lot cheaper than having them ordered and shipped from some city. Besides, it gives us something to do over the winters.”

Linda picked up the sugar dispenser and poured a healthy serving into her cup.

Barb grinned. “I see you like a little coffee with your sugar.”

“Bad habit. I put lots in the first cup then hardly any in after that.”

“Interesting.”

“Do you mind if I ask—”

Barb slid out from the table. “Oh, dang it. I forgot to grab a menu. Be right back.”

Linda turned her attention outside. Her brow crinkled as she observed the town.

“Pick your poison and I’ll start cooking,” Barb said as she placed a menu on the table in front of Linda.

“You’re the cook?”

“Cook, dishwasher, floor sweeper, table cleaner and cashier. You name it and I probably do it.”

Linda picked up the menu. “Must keep you busy. What do you recommend?”

“If it’s on the menu, I recommend it. Anything I don’t like doesn’t get put on it.”

“BLT sounds good.”

“White, wheat, sourdough? Limp or toasted?”

“Sourdough and toasted.”

“Any allergies to mayonnaise and mustard?”

Linda chuckled. “No. But mayonnaise only, please.”

“Fries, chips or salad. It’s fresh.” She winked. “Just like me.”

Linda’s mouth spread in a wide grin with her hearty laugh. “Well then, the salad is a must. Ranch dressing.”

“You got it. Be right back with that salad. Just let me put the bacon in the skillet first.”

“Take your time. I’m not exactly in a hurry.” Noticing that several oil paintings adorned the walls of the café, she slid out of the bench. “These are wonderful. Who’s the artist?” she asked as she took a closer look at the paintings.

“Granddad. He really captured the area, don’t you think?”

“From what I’ve seen of it, yes. Are these the lakes you were talking about?”

Barb looked up from the salad she was preparing. “Some of them. That one is called the Lake of the Lovers.”

“It’s beautiful. The moonlight shining on the water and that couple standing in the shadows seem almost…”

“Real?”

“Yes.”

“Salad is ready.”

“Oh, I can take that,” Linda said when Barb started around the counter to carry the plate to the table.

“Nope. You come eat when you’re ready. Until then, keep enjoying.”

“Thanks. I will. Is it very far to these lakes? Maybe I’ll take a drive out there after I eat.”

“The lakes? No. About two miles to the first of them. But if you talking specifically about that one, you can’t drive to it. Only way to see the Lake of the Lovers is by foot. It’s about a four mile hike, one way.”

“Oh.” Linda said, disappointed.

“But if you stick around a few days, I might be talked into showing you the way. One BLT on sourdough and toasted,” she said holding up a plate. “Just as you ordered.”

“Oh, my. That looks delicious.” Linda followed Barb to the table. “Aren’t you eating?”

“Little early for me. But…” She grinned setting a second plate on the table. “Just to be polite and so I don’t stare at you while you eat, I made these.” She picked a French fry off the plate and popped it into her mouth. Immediately, she puffed air into her mouth and ran across the room to the counter. Grabbing a glass, she filled it with water and took a long drink.

“Are you okay?”

“Never do that with a fry straight out of the fryer.”

Linda smirked. “One would think that was common knowledge.”

Barb sneered playfully. “One would think.”

#

“Something of interest going on over at the Store?”

“Hmmm?”

“You keep looking over there.” Barb twisted around to look out the window. “Is Dudley sitting out on the porch in his long-johns again?”

“What!”

“He’s getting a little forgetful. It’s not too bad unless he’s got the blue ones on.”

“And that would be because?”

“The blue ones date back to the civil war- a gift from his granddad. But the dang things have more moth holes in them than fabric. He’s startled more than one tour-ass wearing them.”

“You are so making that up.”

Barb shrugged. “Nope. So, what’s your interest in the store if it’s not Dudley?”

“The sign in the window says ‘Position Available’.”

“Looking for a job are you?”

“Not really. More like a change of life. And I’ve always played around with the thought of finding a small country store to run.”

“Ah. So that’s what brought you to Henry’s.”

“No.” Linda smirked. “The road brought me.”

Barb laughed. “Fast learner.”

“Actually, I quit my job a few weeks ago, gave up my apartment and hit the road. I decided I wanted something different out of life.”

“Different how?”

Linda thought several minutes before answering. “I wanted to feel like I made a difference. I wanted someone to miss me if I didn’t get out of bed in the morning.”

Barb looked puzzled. “Surely you must have that already.”

Linda shook her head, a look of regret on her face. “No.”

“A beautiful woman like you? Damn.”

Linda bit her lower lip, chewing on it nervously.

“Hey, I’m sorry. That was really insensitive of me. I’m not usually that boorish. It’s just that I figured you were driving though on your way to meet whomever. Now you tell me you don’t…”

“I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Barb reached out and gently placed her hand on top of Linda’s. “You should.”

Linda looked up and smiled. “Thank you.” After a few moments, she slowly pulled her hand away the warm one holding it. “Who do I talk to about the store? Dudley?”

Barb withdrew her now empty hand. “You can. But he can’t make any decisions. I recommend talking with the owner.”

“And that would be?”

Barb smiled. “Me.”

“You? You own the café. You own the Store. Do you own the town too?”

“Easiest answer to that is yes and no.”

Linda chuckled. “How is that easy?”

“Okay, long answer. Everything in Henry’s is owned by a Henry. Actually, it’s owned by all the Henrys. It’s just that over the years, there’s fewer and fewer of us so the older ones have sort of turned the official end of things over to me. Even though I don’t own the store outright, I speak for the family. So if you want to talk, you talk to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m the youngest. I still have most of my mental capacities. I don’t scare the tourists.” She snickered. “Unless I’m bored.”

“No.”

“Oh?”

“Why are there fewer and fewer of you?”

“Guess you could blame Henry’s for that. Not too many of us ever venture too far from here. It’s home,” she said in explanation. “Courtin’ vacationers doesn’t always end for the best. The ones who agree to marry quickly learn that life here isn’t… Well, it isn’t what they thought it would be. The summers are long with days worked morning to night. The winters are cold with long nights of nothing to do but talk and… You know…” She smiled bashfully.

Linda grinned. “I get the point.”

“Well, let’s just say, the fun of living in a small, isolated town wears thin real fast for some.”

“You’re the youngest?”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean?”

“The Henry family dies with me?”

“Yes.”

“That depends. I keep hoping one of my cousins will find someone. I’ve even suggested they move out of Henry’s. But…”

“It’s home.”

“It’s home.”

“What about you?”

“Children don’t seem like a very likely possibility.”

“Why?”

“If you think it’s hard for the boys to find a gal to marry…”

“Oh. Not many men to choose from?”

“Something like that.”

#

“Uncle Dudley,” Barb called out as she entered the store.

Linda lagged behind, making note that the condition of the building wasn’t much different than the café. She wasn’t too surprised when she entered the store to find that, like the café, the interior was modern. But she was puzzled by the paradox.

The store was rectangular in shape with two bay windows in the front and windowless walls along the sides. One long wall was lined with shelves stocked with canned, jarred and boxed goods, loafs of bread, and a limited variety of fresh fruits and vegetables. Miscellaneous cooking utensils and sundries took up space on the other long wall along with some magazines and paperbacks, and paper products. In the middle of the store a pair of cold units displayed packages of meat, fish and a sparse arrangement of frozen foods. Milk and juices occupied a cooler at the back of the store.  

An elderly man shuffled out of a door next to the milk cooler. “I was jus’ comin’ over to find ya, Barbara. She was here—”

“Dudley, I want you to meet Linda. She’s interested in taking over the running of the store.”

“But—”

“Be polite, Uncle Dudley. Say hello.”

Annoyed, he turned to look at Linda. “What do you know ‘bout running a store?”

“I, um…”

“Probably the same you knew when you took over here.”

“Well, I…”

“Don’t worry,” Barb smiled to assure Linda. “You don’t need to know much more than check the deliveries when they come in and collect the money from the shoppers. Dudley will help you get familiar with that and I’ll help you with the bookkeeping and such.”

Dudley shuffled closer to Barb. “She kinder looks like her, don’t she?” he whispered. Barb glared at the old man. “Well, she do.”

Overhearing the comment, Linda looked quizzically at the pair.

Ignoring her uncle, Barb said, “Let me show you around. As you can see it’s pretty simple. We don’t carry much more than the basics; that way we aren’t left with a big inventory come winter time. Once the snow starts to fall, the tourists are less likely to come this far. That’s when the snow-mobilers and ice fishermen start to show up. Lot less of them.” She walked slowly about the store as she explained its operation. Linda followed listening intently while Dudley shuffled behind them trying to catch Barb’s eye. “Delivery trucks come twice a month. We have to send in our orders one week before. I do the ordering for both the store and the café so you’ll need to be sure and get me a list of what you need before then. Special deliveries cost a chunk of change so we try to avoid them. Best to go without then have to ask for one. That’s about it. Like I said, Dudley will work with you until you’re comfortable enough to go it alone. Any questions?”

“Whoa. That’s a lot to take in at once. Can I think about it?”

“Sure. You know where to find me when you’ve made you’re decision.”

“Barbara. I need to tell you—” Her uncle tried again.

“I best get back to the café. Never know when someone will wander in for a meal.”

“I’ll come with you,” Dudley said.

“You better stay here. Still plenty of day left. Can’t afford to miss a sale.”

Linda followed Barb outside. “Barb?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want to pry but what was Dudley saying about me looking like someone?”

Barb stood on the porch looking across the street at the café. “You can’t put much stock into anything Uncle Dudley says. I told you his mind is slipping.”

“But he runs the store. And you want him to train me. He must be lucid some of the time.” She placed a hand on Barb’s arm attempting to get the woman to look at her.

Barb slumped against one of the posts that supported the porch’s roof. “He thinks he sees my aunt. It’s been almost twenty years and he still thinks he sees her in the store where they used to work together. It’s not you. Every woman about your age who goes into the store, he says looks like her. It’s just an old man’s wish to have his wife back.”

“Oh. That’s sad. How did she die?”

“Die? I never said she died. Although, she might have by now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She ran off with a pickled pepper salesman.”

“One of those who couldn’t stand the long winters?”

Barb grinned then shrugged. “More likely she couldn’t stand spending them with Dudley.” She leaned close to whisper, “He’s not exactly known as one of the better conversationalists of the family.”

“Dammit. I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or not.”

Barb laughed. “Don’t give Uncle Dudley’s ramblings any mind.” She stepped down from the porch. “If you still want to take that drive, I’d recommend going down to Trout Lake. It’s about five miles but it’s a nice drive and there’s a trail that circles the lake. Pretty walk.”

“Thanks. Oh, Barb,” she called out as the café owner started across the street. “Do I talk to you about a room at the motel?” She had seen the collection of small cabins at the end of town with ‘Motel’ painted on the side of the one closest to the road.

“Sure do. I’ll reserve one for you. Guess I don’t need to ask, one bed or two?”

“No. I guess you don’t.

“You can fill out the paperwork when you get back.”

“Thanks.”

“Have a nice drive.”

#

PART 3

Barb had been right. The drive to the lake was nice with the road meandering through thick forests and open meadows. Occasionally, a deer could be seen munching on the sweet grasses and wildflowers and Linda always pulled to the side of the road to watch the attractive animals for a few minutes. The five mile drive took her almost an hour but she didn’t regret one minute of the time spent to reach Trout Lake.

Pulling off the highway, she slowly drove into the gravel lot and stopped in front of a log barricade marking the edge of the parking area. She turned off the engine then pushed open the door and climbed out. “I’m surprised no one else is here,” she commented to herself about the absence of any other cars. “Beautiful day like this…”

A gap in the logs marked the beginning of a trail and she walked through the breach to a large sign a few feet down the path. The sign provided a brief description of the trail and a map painted on the wood showed the location of several points of interest along the route. She pulled a pamphlet from the box attached to the sign dropping a quarter into the slot on its side as directed. Opening the pamphlet, she started down the trail.

She took her time, enjoying the walk and sights along it. The path was wide enough for two people to walk comfortably side-by-side and weaved in and out of the forest that surrounded Trout Lake with sections of the trail following the shoreline. Instead of sand, the shore was covered in small pebbles worn smooth by centuries of being tumbled about by the lake’s waters. She paused at every numbered marker and read the corresponding information in the pamphlet. She learned that in the late 1800s, Trout Lake had been home to a busy logging camp and she enthusiastically explored the remains of the venture’s decaying equipment and crumbling buildings. The pamphlet told that during its heyday, the camp was home to over a hundred loggers. Some of the men had their families with them and they lived in log cabins scattered around the perimeter of the camp.

Linda was peering through the window of one of these cabins. Shards of broken glass still remained stuck in the rotting window frame and she was careful not to touch it as she ducked her head through the opening. Wondering what life would have been like for a young family living in the cabin, she was startled from her thoughts when a twig snapped behind her. She yanked her head out from the window. “Who’s there?” she called out looking into the woods but she could see nothing but trees and shadows. That didn’t stop the hairs on the back of her neck tingling as if she had rubbed her feet on a thick carpet. “Who’s there?” she called again. The forest was silent except for the rustling of leaves and creaking of tree branches as a light breeze blew through them.

She pulled the pamphlet from her pocket. With trembling hands she opened it to reveal the map of the trail. She was relieved to see she wasn’t too far from the trailhead. “I’m going back to my car,” she said loudly. “My friend is waiting for me there. You don’t want to mess with her,” she added with a bravado she wasn’t feeling. As she spoke, she inched along the wall of the old cabin back toward the trail. “I mean it. Barb will kick your ass if you try anything.” As soon as her hiking boots returned to the trail, Linda turned for the parking lot and ran as fast as she ever had.

#

“She’s not who you think she is, Uncle Dudley.” Barb shook her head.

“Pshaw,” the old man peeking out the window of the café muttered. “She’s the spittin’ image of—” Cooking pots clattered loudly in the kitchen. Dudley turned away from the window and shuffled toward the sound. “She’s come back. She always said she would. And now she has.”

A pot was slammed down onto the stove with a deafening clang. “It’s not her.”

Dudley shook a finger, twisted with age, at his niece. “Don’t you be actin’ like that.”

“It’s not her.”

His eyes locked on Barb’s. “Are you sure?”

“Dammit, old man,” she swore forcing her eyes to break from his powerful hold.

“That’s what I thought.”

#

Linda barely glanced down the highway to check for traffic before she drove out of the parking area with gravel shooting out from under her spinning tires. All the way down the trail as her boots beat against the leaf littered path, she felt eyes following her. And now, as she pressed harder on the accelerator, she glanced at the rear view mirror sure she would see her pursuer. But the mirror revealed nothing. She drove almost a mile before she relaxed enough to slow the car’s speed. And by the time she reached Henry’s and parked in front of the café, she was laughing at herself for being so foolish.

“Hi.” Linda looked over the top of her car to see Barb sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. “How was your drive?”

“Nice. Just like you said.”

“And the lake?”

Her stomach did a flip-flop and she shivered slightly. “Okay.”

“Everything all right?” Barb had seen the involuntary movement.

“Yes.” Linda walked around the car and mounted the steps. She walked to a chair next to Barb and sat down. “I just let my imagination get the best of me.”

“Oh?”

She rocked nervously not wanting to tell Barb what had happened.

“Some say there are ghosts in the old camp,” Barb said quietly after several long, awkward minutes. Linda stopped rocking and turned to study her. “I think it’s just the wind and the shadows.”

“Have you…?”

“It’s easy to imagine the snap of a twig or trees rubbing together in the wind to be something else. Especially when you’re out there alone and the shadows are deepening with the afternoon. But it’s still just a twig and trees.”

Linda reached back and rubbed her neck where she could still feel a residue of the sensation she had experienced at the old cabin. “What happened to the people in the camp?”

“The camp burned down around eighteen-eighty nine or ninety. Most of the loggers moved on to other camps when the company decided not to rebuild. A few stayed in the area.”

“Did anyone die in the fire?”

Barb smiled, not a humorous smile but one of understanding. “No. I never heard of anyone dying in the fire.”

Linda let loose a burst of air. “Thank goodness.”

“Want to tell me what you saw?”

“No.”

“Want some dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Barb said standing up. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and fresh apple pie are the special tonight.”

“Sounds good.”

“Then you won’t be wanting a menu?”

“Nope. Bring me the special,” Linda said as she followed Barb into the café.

Standing just inside the doorway of the store, Dudley watched the women sitting on the café’s porch. When they retreated inside the building, he turned to his companion.

“She’s come back for me,” a voice whispered.

#

Barb was setting Linda’s dinner plate down in front of her when the café’s door opened. “Evening, Uncle Dudley,” she said, a tinge of suspicion in her tone. The older man walked directly toward his niece. “Grab a stool at the counter. I’ll get your dinner.”

He stepped around his irritated niece then slipped into the booth opposite Linda. “Think I’ll sit here,” he said picking up an unused coffee mug and flipping it over. “Bring the pot back with you.”

Barb glared at her uncle a few seconds before turning to return to the kitchen.

Linda watched the exchange curiously.  “Good evening, Mr. Henry.”

He chuckled. “Call me Uncle Dudley. Mr. Henry makes me sound old.”

“You are old,” Barb groused as she set a plate in front of him. She reached for his coffee cup and filled it from the pot she held.

“Don’t mean I have to be reminded of it.” He watched as Linda poured a generous amount of sugar into her coffee then stirred the liquid vigorously. “You like it sweet,” he said knowingly. “Just like her.”

“Hush,” Barb glared at him.

“Her who?” Linda asked.

“My aunt.”

Dudley laughed. “Your aunt? That who you’re calling her now.” Barb’s eyes narrowed in silent warning. “That look don’t scare me,” he snickered picking up a chicken leg and biting into it.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m missing something?” Linda asked.

“You’re not.” Barb set the coffee pot on the table and scooted onto the bench seat forcing her uncle to slide closer to the wall. “It’s just more of Dudley’s ramblings.”

“Ramblings. Ha! She’s back. Talked to her myself today.”

“She’s dead.”

“Who?” Linda asked, the word fired across the table at the pair.

 “Might as well tell her. She’ll find out anyway since she’s sticking around.”

“We don’t know that yet.”

Dudley, chicken grease running down his chin, looked at Linda. “You takin’ the job?”

“Well… I was thinking—”

“Told you.”

“You didn’t let her finish.” Barb forced a napkin into Dudley’s hand. “Wipe your chin.”

 “Are ya?” he asked Linda, scrubbing the napkin across his face.

“Am I?”

“Dammit, girl. Are you staying? Yes or no?”

“Umm… Yes. I think… Oh, hell. Would you two tell me what the heck you are arguing about?”

“No,” Barb said, overturning a mug and filling it with coffee.

Dudley pointed at a painting on the other side of the room. “Her.”

Linda looked. She had seen the painting when she was in the café that morning. It was of a young woman standing at the edge of a lake. Her posture was relaxed and she was laughing. She wore a light blue blouse tucked into a pair of worn jeans and her bare feet were covered by the water. In one hand a summer bonnet was lightly clutched while her other hand reached out for an unseen companion. “She’s very pretty. Who is she?”

“My grandmother,” Dudley said. Linda’s brow creased in thought. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you said your grandfather painted those,” Linda said to Barb. “But if that’s Dudley’s grandmother, how…?”

Barb sipped her coffee refusing to answer.

“How’d my brother know what she looked liked?” Dudley asked. “Well, ‘cause he knew her.”

“I’m sure he did. But…” Linda slipped out of the booth and crossed the dining room to stand in front of the painting. “She can’t be more than nineteen or twenty in this painting. Surely, you and your brother weren’t born when she was this young.”

“Granddad painting it from an old photograph,” Barb interjected.

“Ha!”

“What lake is this?” Linda asked, sure she had visited the location of the painting only a few hours before.

“Trout Lake. She lived in a cabin there.”

Linda looked over her shoulder at Dudley. “She lived on Trout Lake?”

“Not Grandma. Her—”

“That’s enough talk for tonight,” Barb interrupted. “Dudley, finish your dinner. It’s time for me to be closing up and I’ve still have to take Linda down to her room.” She stood up then placed a hand on the table and leaned down until she was inches from her uncle’s face. “Not another word. Do you hear me?” she whispered. When he nodded, she straightened up and walked into the kitchen.

Linda wasn’t sure what to think as she studied the photograph. There was obvious more to the story but it was just as obvious that Barb didn’t want her to hear it. Maybe staying in Henry’s wasn’t such a good idea. She walked back to the table and her dinner. She and Dudley exchanged furtive glances as they ate in silence.

#

Barb was standing just inside the door of the motel room, her hand holding the door handle. “I have to get back to the café and lock up. If you need anything, just use the phone there. You don’t need to dial anything since the only place it connects to is my office.”

“Okay,” Linda said as she dropped her suitcase on the bed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Barb turned to leave. “See you for breakfast then. Good night.”

“Good night.” Linda looked around.

The room was L-shaped with the bathroom in the short leg. In the main room, a round table and matching pair of chairs sat in front of the window to the side of the door. In the center of the room, a queen size bed was pushed head-first against the wall. A low dresser of drawers sat in front of a wall that jutted across the end of the room hiding the closet which opened opposite the door to the bathroom. The furnishings were simple but clean and well cared for and Linda immediately took a liking to the comfortable feel of the room.

She walked to the bathroom, flipping on the light-switch as she peeked through the door. The typical toilet, sink, and bathtub were arranged inside the room. Beside the tub, a pair of shelves hung on the wall fully stocked with towels, soap, and shampoo. Not seeing anything lacking, she walked back to the bed to prepare for bed.

#

Barb locked the rear door of the café then walked around the kitchen making sure nothing had been accidentally left turned on. Satisfied, she walked into the dining room flipping off lights as she went. After a final look, she stepped out onto the porch, pausing to lock the door and hook the screen door shut so it wouldn’t bang against the door frame if the wind began to blow during the night. She walked across the porch and down the steps then stopped. A quick look down the street assured her that the motel room was dark. She turned her eyes toward the porch of the store where she caught a movement in the dark shadows. She walked across the street.

“She’s come back.”

“It’s not her.”

“It’s her. Saw her down by the lake. And at her cabin.”

“It’s not her.” Barb’s tone was harsh. She wasn’t surprised when a shape began to materialize out of the shadows. “Leave her be,” she told the figure.

“How can you be so sure?” The question was asked quietly with a voice full of pain.

“I just know.”

“You promised to find her.”

“I’m trying.”

“I miss her so much.”

“I know,” Barb said in a soft tone. “I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“Bring her home to me.”

“I promise.”

#

PART 4

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Barb asked.

“Sure. No problem.”

“You better pay attention to what you’re doing this time.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Jake, if you set the kitchen on fire again, you’ll be doing a lot more than sweating it.”

“I won’t. Besides, there’s no way I’m giving her another chance at me.”

The screen door to the café opened and Barb turned to see who their first customer of the morning was. She smiled when Linda walked in. “Morning.”

“Good morning. I’m not too early am I?” Linda asked, noting the lack of other customers. It wasn’t much past sunrise and she wasn’t sure when the town’s businesses opened since none had any signs revealing that information.

“Not at all. Sit. Coffee is made. Would you like a cup while Jake fires up the grill?”

Linda slid into a booth. “Sounds great.”

Barb nudged Jake behind the counter then plucked the coffee pot off the warmer.

“Dudley is right,” he whispered. “She does look like her.” Barb glared at him. “Well, she does,” he mumbled as he backed away.

Barb turned around. She was surprised to see the booth empty and looked around for the missing diner. Linda was slowly walking from painting to painting, scrutinizing each one for several minutes before moving to the next. “Something wrong?” she asked after walking over to stand beside her.

“Hmm?” Linda replied, her eyes never leaving the canvas in front of her.

“Is something wrong with the paintings?”

Linda turned, smiled at Barb then moved to stand in front of the next painting. “No, nothing is wrong. I just wanted to take a closer look at them. You grandfather was very talented. These landscapes are so true to life,” she said reaching out to a mountain meadow. She stopped her fingers just before they touched the painted surface. “It’s almost as if I’m standing right there.”

“Yes,” Barb agreed then turned to carry the coffee pot to the table. “Grandfather did have a good eye,” she said as she walked away.

“Something’s…” Linda was standing in front of the Lake of the Lovers. “Something’s different about this one,” she said leaning closer to peer at the canvas.

Barb sat down and poured coffee into two mugs. “That’s the same painting that’s been hanging there since Grandfather finished it.”

“No. That’s not what I mean.” Linda stared at the painting willing her mind to remember what it had looked like the previous day. “It’s the same painting but different.”

“Ah, you mean the lovers,” Jake said as he walked around the counter carrying a menu.

“Jake! Don’t you have something to do in the kitchen?”

“Not until she orders I don’t.” He held the menu out to Linda. “Perhaps you’d like to…?”

“Oh, I am sorry. Of course.” Linda took the proffered menu and opened it. “Denver omelet, raisin toast, hash browns.” She handed the menu back.

“Thanks. I’ll get that started right away.” He held out his hand. “I’m Jake. Barb’s cousin but she’s not much for introductions this morning.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Linda.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Jake!”

He looked over his shoulder at Barb, an icy glare on her face. “I’m going,” he said returning to the kitchen. “Sheesh.”

Linda walked across the dining room and slid into the booth opposite Barb. “He’s right,” she murmured gazing over at the painting.

“Not usually,” Barb muttered.

“It’s the lovers. There’s only one.”

“What?”

“Yesterday, there were two figures standing in the tree’s shadows. Today, there’s only one.”

“You must have been mistaken.”

“No. I’m sure of it.”

“Trick of the light, I guess,” Barb shrugged off Linda’s comment. “About the job with Dudley…”

“I am interested but I’d like a day or two to get used to the area.”

“Not much to get used to.”

“I was looking at this map I found in my room. There are so many trails… I thought it might be nice to hike a few of them. That is, if the store can wait a day or two.”

“Don’t see why not. If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks.”

“But I’d be careful taking off on those trails alone. That map is pretty old. I keep meaning to update it. Some of them haven’t seen much use over the years.”

“Oh? Well, maybe you could suggest a couple of the safer ones.”

“Sure. Anything special you like to see?”

“I was thinking of hiking up to the Lake of the Lovers. You said it wasn’t far.”

Barb scowled. “That’s not one I’d recommend.”

“Oh? I thought—”

“One Denver omelet, raisin toast and hash browns,” Jake said as he slid a plate in front of Linda.

“Thank you.”

Barb stood up. “I’ve got some things to do in the office. Enjoy your breakfast,” she said then turned away. She was halfway to the kitchen when Linda called after her.

“Wait. What about the trails?”

“I’d be happy to—”

“Jake, I need your help in the office.”

“But…”

“Now, Jake.” Barb took a couple of steps toward Linda. “I’ll, um… Think on it. Better eat that before it gets cold.” Linda looked at her, an unvoiced question clearly written on her features. “I’ll, um… I’ll be back before you finish,” she said then turned on her heel and hurried around the counter into the back of the kitchen with Jake right behind her.

“What the…?” Linda picked up her fork and pointed it toward the disappearing woman. “If you weren’t so damn cute…” She cut off a bite of omelet and slipped it into her mouth. As she chewed, her gaze returned to the painting across the room.

#

Linda stood at the counter opposite the cash register holding out a ten dollar bill. “Will this cover my breakfast?”

“That’s okay.” Jake waved off the offer. “I added it to your room.”

“Thank you,” she said placing the bill back into her wallet. “Is Barb still in her office?

“She, umm...” He turned to look at the closed office door. “She said to tell you she’d talk to you later. She had something to take care of.”

Linda frowned. She looked at Jake then at the closed door. Then she turned and walked across the dining room to stand in front of the painting that she couldn’t seem to get out of her mind. She peered at the figure standing in the shadows of the pine trees. “Who is this woman, Jake?” Although her features were not very distinct Linda was able to make out the face. “And why is she so sad?”

He grabbed a towel and nervously wiped it over the clean counter. “I think it’s best Barb tell you that.”

Linda turned to face him. “But she doesn’t seem to be willing to do that, does she?”

The door to the café opened and both of them turned their attention to the couple that entered.

“Morning, folks,” Jake greeted the pair. “Sit anywhere and I’ll be right over with hot coffee and menus.” Relieved to have an excuse to avoid answering Linda’s questions, he dropped the towel on the counter and picked up the coffee pot. Snatching menus out of the rack at the end of the counter, he walked over to the table where his customers were sitting. “I don’t remember seeing you folks before, first time in Henry’s?”

Not interested in the couple or their response, Linda took a final look at the painting before walking to the door. She stepped out onto the porch then stood there for a few moments before making up her mind and walking down the steps to the street. Jake watched her go even as he kept up his friendly banter with the couple.

#

Linda set her pack down on the bed. She had returned to her room after leaving the café and spent several minutes studying the map until she finally decided on a trail to follow. If she had read the map correctly, she would be standing on the shore of the Lake of the Lovers shortly after midday.

She made a final check of the items her pack held then glanced around the motel room to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Satisfied she had not, she zipped the pockets closed. Slipping the pack on her back, she tightened the straps and headed for the door picking up her hat and the trail map off the table as she passed. After locking the door to her room, she walked on the wood planked walkway that fronted the motel rooms to a small clearing at the end of the building. According to the map, she should be able to locate a main trail just inside the forest on the opposite side of the clearing. The trail began in one of the campgrounds near the string of lakes and wound its way past town then continued on for several miles. Other trails branched off this main one including the path that went to the Lake of the Lovers- all she had to do was find the right junction. “Piece of cake,” Linda said tucking the map into her shirt pocket.

The trail was easy walking as she followed a leaf-covered path through the forest. She settled into a relaxed pace stopping occasionally to enjoy something of interest. She had walked almost an hour when the trail suddenly left the woods to cross a large meadow. As she looked across the clearing, Linda saw someone disappearing into the trees where the trail rejoined the forest. “Barb,” she called out even though she knew it was unlikely the person would hear her. “It probably wasn’t her anyway,” she muttered reaching for a water bottle in the side pocket of her pack. She took a long drink then replaced the lid and returned the bottle to its pocket before continuing.

#

“I must have missed it,” Linda muttered as she studied the map. She had been walking almost two hours and was sure she should have already come upon the trail that branched off to the Lake of the Lovers. “You’d think they would have signs up,” she grumbled. “Now what do I do?” Looking at the map, she saw that if she continued on the present trail she could walk many more miles before it eventually came to an end. Or she could turn around and return to Henry’s after an enjoyable but unproductive hike. “Or I can go back to here,” she pointed at a spot on the map where the main trail was crossed by another path that would also take her back to town. “I’m pretty sure I remember passing that. It was just after the meadow where I thought I saw Barb.”

She retraced her steps finding the alternative junction where she expected it and taking the new path. She hadn’t gone very far when she heard the faint sounds of men shouting, mules braying and horses whinnying. “What can that be?” The further she walked the louder the sounds.

A small creek meandered across the trail and Linda hopped over it using a couple of well placed rocks as stepping stones. As soon as her hiking boots touched the ground on the other side of the water her world changed.

#

“Watch out there, you fool,” a man shouted. “Them mules won’t stop for you.”

Linda spun around just as a team of mules charged past her, the animals straining against their harnesses as they struggled to drag a pair of long tree trunks behind them. The tip of a bullwhip snaked out over the mules and a loud crack exploded in the air above their heads. She jumped at the unexpected sound. “What the…? Barb didn’t say anything about people still logging up here,” she said as she took in the activity going on around her. Everywhere she looked, the forest was alive with men and animals.

“Jackson, get up in that tree and get her topped. We can’t wait all day.”

“On it, boss.”

“Watch out for that hole. Peter, didn’t I tell you to fill that damn thing this morning?”

“Getting to it, boss.”

“Well, get to it faster.”

“Come on, get that team up here. We’ve got logs to move.”

It took only a few moments for Linda to locate the man shouting the orders. Being careful to stay out of the way of the mule teams, she walked toward him. “Excuse me,” she said as she approached.

“Come on, Jackson. How long you going to take?” the foreman’s head was turned skyward as he watched a logger working high up in a tree. “Look alive,” the foreman yelled. “She’s coming down.”

Linda looked up when she heard branches breaking. The top several feet of a tree had been sawed free and was crashing to the ground, snapping off branches as it fell. No sooner had the section of tree landed then the foreman was shouting again.

“All right, boys. Get to your sawing.” Two men ran toward the tree. “Peter, I’m not going to tell you again to get that hole filled. You won’t have a place at supper if I have to do it myself.”

Linda tried again to gain the foreman’s attention. “I’m sorry, sir. I can see you’re busy,” she said stepping right in front of the man. When he took no notice of her, she felt herself getting angry. “Sir, you may be busy but you can take a moment to answer me. Or, look at me!” Without a word, the foreman turned and walked away leaving Linda to try and make sense of both his actions and the activity surrounding her.

A horse whinnied as it pulled a wagon over the uneven ground. Men swore while laboring to push and pull saws through tree trunks and the sound of axe blades biting into wood filled the air. “Timber.” The cry echoed through the trees followed by an identical warning coming from a different direction.

“This is just too weird,” Linda said watching the loggers work. “Well, if Mister Important Boss Man won’t talk to me, I’m sure one of the others will.” A worker was filling a hole with shovelfuls of dirt scooped from the back of a hand cart and she decided his chore could be interrupted for a few moments. “Excuse me, but could you tell me what’s going on here?” The man continued working. “Sir, please.” She shook her head in frustration when he continued to act as if she wasn’t standing beside him. Tentatively, she stretched an arm out directly in front of his face and waved her hand. No response. “Hey,” she screamed at him. Balling her hand into a fist, she thrust it at his shoulder. She gasped when her fist traveled right through the figure. More frightened than she had ever been in her life, Linda backed away from the man, her eyes darting about from one figure to the next. They looked real but she suddenly realized they couldn’t be.

The men were dressed in clothing she had only seen in movies depicting a time long past- long sleeved, wool shirts tucked into denim pants with cuffs rolled up over leather work books with thick knobbed souls. And instead of using chainsaws to fell the trees, buck saws were being manhandled by loggers standing on springboards that were precariously balanced in notches cut into the very trunks they were sawing through. Teams of horses and mules dragged the downed trees away from the area, not the large logging trucks she would have expected to see.

Looking to escape the eerie scene, Linda tried to remember how she had gotten there. She turned away from the man and ran. But, after several minutes, her steps slowed and eventually stopped. She looked around relieved to find herself alone and the sound of the working loggers in the distance muted behind her. Standing in the middle of a rutted road, she pinched her arm as hard as she could. “Ouch! Okay, I’m not dreaming. So, what now?”

#

Not knowing what else to do, Linda followed the road stepping off to the side whenever a team of mules or a wagon approached. After a while, she was no longer surprised when her presence went unnoticed by those passing. The trees grew further apart as she walked until she was walking through a landscape barren of almost everything except tree stumps. She spotted smoke in the distant and hoped it signaled an end to her strange odyssey.

She walked past a solitary cabin giving it a casual glance before continuing toward a cluster of larger structures. She walked unnoticed through the midst of several men and a few women moving about the camp as they performed various chores. The sound of laughter drew her attention and she followed it to the shore of a lake at the opposite end of the camp where two young women were standing at the water’s edge. One of them wore a light blue blouse tucked into a pair of worn jeans and her bare feet were covered by the water. In one hand a summer bonnet was