Into the Woods

“Graham, are you sure about this?” Anne asked, tossing a backpack into the trunk of his car. “I mean, couldn’t you just grab a hotel room or something?” The late August afternoon was unseasonably cold as the sun fell lazily into the horizon and a northern breeze brought the promise of autumn. They had successfully crammed a rolled sleeping bag, camp stove with propane cannisters, a recently purchased hatchet, two binders of case notes and the large backpack into Graham’s old Honda Accord.

“Nah.” Graham replied, waving a hand dismissively. “This is the only way to do it hun - just me, a cabin, and the lake. No power, no noise, and no distractions. I need to focus and get my head around this case. It’s driving me insane. I’ve got a good case record, but O’Reilly keeps reminding me that I’m still a fresh fish when it comes to being a detective…not sure if five years in is entirely fresh, but from the perspective of a superintendent I suppose it may be.” He checked that his headlamp worked and shined the light playfully in her eyes. “Anyway, I’ve survived going head-to-head with some of the worst criminals over the past few years so I’m sure I can handle a couple of nights in the woods.” Anne’s eyebrows converged in concern, failing to see how that equated to being a competent outdoorsman. Watching her husband, she resisted a smile as she took in his tall and lanky frame adorned with a flannel shirt and paired with a new hydration pack slung over his shoulder. His prematurely greying beard was unkempt but any contribution it may have given to a rugged appearance was countered by his thick, dark framed glasses. Anne couldn’t recall how Graham had gotten the idea of isolating himself in the woods, but once he had a plan stuck in his head there was nothing to do but support him through it. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his thin waist. “Just be careful, ok?” She said looking up at him and resting her thick and curly head of hair on his chest.  He lowered his chin and breathed in the subtle scent of her rosemary shampoo.

            “Of course, Annie.” He said before kissing her on the forehead and smiling. “You worry too much, hun. I’ll be fine. I’ve watched all the Survivorman episodes in preparation” he said with a grin. “Seriously though, it’s a few nights in the woods and you’ve stolen enough medical supplies from work to stock a small clinic, let alone treat any injuries I may get from tripping over a branch. A theft which has gone unnoticed, thankfully.” He smiled again and gave her arm a squeeze before walking around the car to open the driver’s door. Before climbing in he looked back at her as she stood on the sidewalk, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and hands pinning an old shawl against her sides. “Remember though, don’t worry if you don’t hear from me, ok? You know how I get when working through a problem. I love you.” He climbed into the car and started the engine. As he shifted into drive, he heard a tap on the window and saw Anne kiss her hand and place it on the glass, allowing it to linger for a moment before letting go and giving one last wave.    

            As he drove north the city yielded its hardscapes to stretching fields of late summer crops and then to the granite faces of the Canadian shield. Forests of ancient pine trees stood proudly atop the escarpment, their shadows reaching across the road as the last remnants of sunlight faded. The evening was soon covered in a thick blanket of starless sky and Graham squinted as his headlights faded in front of him, seemingly swallowed by the night. The forest thickened and the road narrowed as he drove further into the wilderness giving an ironic sense of claustrophobia. Over the next four hours the road changed directions regularly, giving way to large outcroppings of granite or slumbering lakes but always returned to its northward destination. Graham had been momentarily checking the GPS when he noticed two small lights floating just above the grass on the shoulder of the road. Lost momentarily in his contemplation, his stomach lurched as the lights quickly jerked upward and a large doe sprung forward into his path. Swerving to his right while slamming on the brakes he braced for an impact which never came. Stopped on the shoulder, his heart pounding and hands gripping the wheel tightly, he watched as the doe stared knowingly at him before seeming to shake its head and calmly walk off the road and into the darkness.

            “Fuck!” he yelled as he pried his hands from the wheel and the knot in his stomach gradually untied itself. He undid his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, taking slow breaths of cool air in through his nose and out through his mouth as he walked off his nervous energy. He looked around, unable to see anything but the vague silhouette of the forest and what little road the headlights from his car afforded him. The air was silent but for the intermittent chorus of crickets that broke the stillness. He leaned against the car and with closed eyes listened for a moment, controlling his breath and focusing on only the sound of a gentle wind in the trees. Within moments however, his meditation was interrupted by the roar of a large engine and the back of his eyelids flashing red. Opening his eyes, he saw a large pick-up truck slowing to a halt. The truck stopped and a middle-aged man with grizzled hair and bearded face climbed out, his large, callused hands holding a well-worn axe. He was no more than 5’6” but was shaped like a boulder with broad shoulders and chest accompanied by a rotund abdomen. Graham couldn’t clearly make out his face in the darkness even as he stood directly in front of him, looking him over before speaking with a gravelled timbre.

“Ya lost?”

Graham stood up straight, unsure what situation he had found himself in.

“No, thank you. Just taking a moment. Almost hit a deer, that’s all”

“Buck or Doe?” the man asked, looking to his left and right.

“Umm…doe, I think” Graham answered.

“Hmm. Well, shouldn’t leave your car in the way then. She may have a young’n still followin’ her around. Would be hiding right there,” he said pointing into the line of trees behind Graham’s car. You’re just keeping it from gett’n on its way.”

“Oh… well, I should probably get going then.” He looked at the axe turning slowly in the stranger’s hands as he quietly grabbed the car door handle behind his back.

“Don’t worry ‘bout this” the man said, flipping the axe into one hand and looking him in the eye. “It was just in case I needed to put some poor bugger out of his misery…deer or somethin’ that is. Up here you gotta be ready to do what needs to be done… nobody’s gonna do it for ya.”

“Of course. Very noble of you.” Graham said. “Anyway…I—"

“Where you headed?” The man asked.

“Headed? Um, Lake Solus. Renting a cabin there for a couple nights.”

“Well, you’d better follow me then,” the man replied, turning around to climb back in his truck.

“That’s ok. I appreciate the offer but my GPS—” Graham began.

“Your GPS is about to die the moment you get over that next ridge” he said, thrusting his axe at a line of pine trees five hundred meters ahead of them. He then slammed his door and pulled around Graham before waiting for him to start his car. Taking another deep breath, Graham sat back in his car and turning it over started to follow the truck.

II

            The road snaked its way through the rock cuts and trees as Graham followed the jostling red taillights of the large pickup truck. The GPS lost its signal not long after cresting the ridge as predicted, and the road forked suddenly without any indication of where each path may lead. What the hell am I doing up here? Graham wondered, looking through his windows and trying to get any sense of bearings. The crowded forest began to thin as they made their way along a curved ridge of escarpment with an expansive emptiness opening to their left. His eyes adjusted and he could see the sky reflecting off the surface of a large black lake beneath them, its waters undulating gently and causing the mirrored starlight to dance rhythmically. The road descended gently into a clearing where a log building sat alone. Its large wrap-around porch was cluttered with rakes, shovels, and bags of various livestock feed. Light shone warmly from the windows as they pulled into a gravelled area where three pickup trucks had been parked and above the front door a hand carved wooden sign read, ‘Lake Solus General Store’. His guide stepped out of his truck and walked inside of the building without looking back. Graham felt a sense of relief that he hadn’t taken the axe with him and climbed out of his car to follow inside.

            Entering the warm room, a thick condensation formed on his glasses obscuring his vision. He heard a bright and indistinct chatter stop abruptly and could feel appraising eyes turn in his direction. Smiling silently to a blurred crowd, he cleaned his lenses and slid his glasses back into place, bringing the room into focus. Three people were seated about an old circular wooden table set in front of a large window that stretched toward the ceiling where it met a large timber beam running across the expanse of a single, open room. His guide was seated at the table next to a couple that were perhaps in their thirties and looked at him with mouths slightly agape.  Standing behind a makeshift bar was a tall man of sixty who was smiling welcomingly in his direction with a mouthful of gleaming white teeth. He had an abundance of grey hair pulled neatly back in a ponytail, exposing his prominent eyebrows and sharp green eyes. He walked swiftly around the bar, his hand outstretched in greeting.

            “Well, hello there! A new face, by God’s sake. I’m Jim Fletcher. I own this store, or pub, or grocer, or whatever you’d like to call it!” He let out a boisterous laugh which shook his entire chest. “Are you here with Dirk?” He asked, all his white teeth exposed in a fixed smile.

            “I’m sorry… Dirk?” Graham asked.

            “Dirk.” Jim said, nodding at the man who had so recently been confronting him on the highway.

            “Oh! Um, no, not really. He was kind enough to lead me here, but I didn’t get his name. Just happened across me on the highway after I almost hit a doe.”

            “Oh, I see, I see. A man of few words but of big heart, our Dirk. Isn’t that right?!” He said and looked over to see Dirk simply holding up a middle finger and sipping his beer. “So, who might you be then?”

            “Graham Kelly. I’ve just come up for a couple of nights to get away from the city and do some work without the noise and distraction.” He answered, looking around the room. Panning to his left there were rows of shelves adorned by various goods including canned foods, dried pasta, varieties of beef jerky and hunting and fishing equipment.

            “Well, if you’re looking for quiet then you’ve come to the right place. Only the four of us that live on the lake permanently. Everyone else lives twenty kilometers north in Atherton. Where are you staying?” Jim asked.

            “2140 Cinder Lane, apparently. The person renting it mentioned that reception may be spotty but didn’t say there was absolutely none, so I’m a bit stuck as to where it is from here. It’s supposed to be a small cabin on the lake.”

            “Oh, don’t worry about that, we’ll get you sorted out. There’s only one cabin that fits that description. Never really known who it belongs to but has been here forever.” Jim said with a smile. “First let’s get you a drink and introduce you around though. Beer?” He asked, stepping towards a large 1950’s General Electric refrigerator.  

            “Sure, that’d be great.” Graham said, accepting a can from him and taking a seat on a wooden stool beside the bar.

            “So, let’s see then,” Jim began. “You’ve already met Dirk Stenson there, they’ve been on the lake for decades…although I suppose you’re not a ‘they’ anymore are you, Dirk?” Graham felt Jim’s energy wane slightly before he quickly rebounded, smiling broadly at the next to be introduced. “This is Eric Williams and that’s Jenna, his darling wife, sitting beside him. They are from the urban jungle originally but saw the forest for the trees and moved up a couple of years ago.” Eric stood up and offered his hand in greeting. He had thick shaggy red hair overhanging his freckled face and he gave a warm but seemingly practiced smile.

            “Jim’s right about us exchanging one wild for the other but it’s actually only been a year…”

            “Although it seems longer, doesn’t it?” His wife, Jenna cut in with a sardonic tone. She was a slight woman wearing a floral summer dress which exposed long tanned legs that were crossed tightly. She was attempting to smile with her eyes but had an involuntary curl to her lip suggesting an utter contempt of her surroundings. Her hair makeup and hair were immaculate and spoke of someone that felt personal presentation was of the utmost importance, regardless of one’s circumstances.

            “Well, it would for someone who just soaks in self-pity every day rather than making the best of it.” Eric shot back, his smile disappearing. He looked back at Graham with a lingering distaste on his lips and asked with heavier breath, “So, you said you’re here for work? What do you do?”

            “I’m a Detective, with the Toronto police department.” Graham answered, looking away. He often tried to avoid eye contact when people asked about his profession. Too often he had seen people’s faces light up, suddenly having an unquenchable thirst for the macabre. He was surprised however, to see Eric involuntarily fall back a half-step and observed him for a moment before continuing. “Just needed some space to think about a case that I’m working on.”

            “Oh, right.” Eric replied with a quiver in his voice. “Sure, that would be important. Gotta be able to focus when doing important work like that.” He gave a quick smile before turning to Jenna, “Let’s get going hun, ok? Bit of a late night and we have to be up early to start chopping wood for the fall.”

            “Oh yeah, wouldn’t want to be too tired for that.” She replied, grabbing a shawl from the back of her chair and standing up to leave with her husband. “Nice to meet you, Detective.” She said to Graham, giving him a forced smile and following Eric who had already exited ahead of her.

“Don’ mind ‘em,” Dirk grumbled. “City folk ain’t got no manners is all.” Graham looked at the man sitting quietly at the table. Now in the light, he could see a worn leathery face with brown eyes set deep under a dominating brow and a large greying beard that was in wild disarray. His movements were slow and intentional, and he appeared so tough one would think he was made of the granite beneath them.

            “Ah, right!” Jim said, cutting through. “Well, some with less manners than others I’m sure. Best not to generalize too much Dirk.”

            “You might be surprised at how right he is.” Graham said looking between them. “Well, it’s feeling a bit late, and I was hoping to find my cabin—"

            “I can take you, no problem. I’ll just grab—” Jim began before Dirk cut in gruffly.

            “I’ll do it. It’s on my way anyhow.” He stood up slowly with a grunt and walked around the table, passing Graham without acknowledgement before exiting the store.

            “Oh…well alright.” Jim mumbled, his shoulders sagging. “You just follow Dirk. He’ll get you where you need to go.” He gave Graham a half smile and started picking up the remaining empty cans from the table, a look of deep contemplation now etched across his face.

III

            The car made a familiar rattle as Graham followed Dirk’s truck down a narrow laneway littered with tree roots. It had only taken ten minutes to traverse the ridge and descend to the lake, the expanse of which was no longer visible as the forest surrounding it enveloped them. The laneway crawled toward the water for five hundred meters before ending at a log cabin no larger than four metres square. A small, raised porch was attached to its front with a screen door hanging from a single hinge and three rotting wooden steps. Dirk parked his truck to the side of the porch, climbed out and headed inside before Graham had a chance to do the same. The area was plunged into complete darkness as Graham turned his car off, depriving the forest of any source of light. Feeling his way along the car to the trunk and opening it, he found his headlamp and by its light grabbed his rucksack and made his way inside.

            As he entered the cabin Graham was immediately struck by the smell of stagnation, the space having been deprived of fresh air for far too long. It sat heavily in his nostrils and was complemented by a thick layer of dust coating everything from a bookcase adorned by aged photo albums to the single bed in the corner which rested on a brass-knobbed frame. A small woodstove stood in the opposite corner where Dirk had already managed to ignite a fire which cast sufficient light across the cramped room. The only other furniture was a distressed armchair sitting to his right, also with a generous layer of dust camouflaging its brown leather. 

            “She never did ask for much.” Dirk said quietly, stoking the fire without turning to face Graham.

            “Huh? Who?” Graham asked, dropping his bag and wiping the edge of the chair before taking a seat.

            “Chrissie, my wife…this was her secret escape. It was in her family for years but never used much until she came along.  She used it as’n escape from me, I suppose… least that’s what everyone will tell you if you asked. Why else’d she leave, right? But I think she still loved me. In her way.”

            “This was your wife’s? So, does she own still own it?”

            “I do.” Dirk replied shortly.

            “And so you’re the one renting it to me? The one I was in communication with?”

            “I am. Though I just thought it was time to make someth’n off it…money’s tight and Chrissie’s gone. Didn’t know you were who you were, but it’s a bit of fate that you are, I think. An opportunity that life’s thrown me.”

            Graham sat silently contemplating these words. “What do you mean by that Dirk?” he asked.

            Dirk turned around, the flames now dancing happily in the woodstove, their light moving rhythmically on the walls. He slowly walked over to the bed and sat down heavily, sending a plume of dust into the air.

            “Chrissie wasn’t always happy. I’ll give you that. I can be a hard man, Detective. Not much with words and to be honest I’ve had my days with the drink… in the past that is… so I can understand how she may not have always been happy… but she knew I loved ‘er. Through the ups and downs, she knew that.” He took a breath and looked around the room. “It was just under year ago, that she went missing… least that’s what I say. Others say she left, ran off on me… they tell me that she’s gone off to the city for a better life with a better man or some shit like that…but I swear, Detective Kelly, my Chrissie was murdered.” He looked directly at Graham, his deep brown eyes heavy with grief. “So, you see why it’s a bit of fate that you’re here. You’re here to help.”

            Graham took a slow breath, weighing his response.  “Mr. Stenson, I’m sorry to hear about your wife, and I encourage you to file a report… but I’m actually here on another matter. There’s another case that I’ve been working on… one that has challenged me in unexpected ways and I—" He stopped suddenly as a crash echoed from underneath a small window to his right. Dirk shot up with his fists clenched and before Graham could stand, he had run out the front door with surprising agility. A moment later Graham heard a muffled yell followed by a struggling body being forced up the front steps as Dirk returned with Eric Williams held by the scruff of his shirt.

            “Let me go, you stupid hick!” Eric yelled angrily. His face was scratched and his lower lip was bleeding.

            “What the fuck are you doing here Williams?!” Dirk yelled; his face livid with anger. “I saw where you fell from the window, you were spy’n on us!”

            “You’re crazy. I was just—"

            “What? Walking through the woods on a nighttime stroll? You can’t tell your ass from a birch, let alone find your way around these woods at night. You followed us. Why!?”

            Graham stepped forward, his hand stretching out between Dirk and Eric. He placed it on Dirk’s shoulder and said calmly “Step back, give him space to answer. Eric, sit over there on the bed.”

            Eric found his way to the musty bed but did not take his eyes off Dirk. Graham sat back down on the chair, this time sinking into it and crossing his legs.

            “Why were you at the window Eric? You must admit it isn’t typical behaviour for… well really anyone.” Graham said, staring at him intently. Eric shifted uncomfortably and wiped his bleeding lip with a sleeve.

            “Just out for a walk. Like Dirk said.” He said, shooting taunting smile at Dirk.

            “Like fuck you were, you little shit!” Dirk shouted as he paced in front of the fire. He pointed a menacing finger at Eric, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you always looking over your shoulder every time someone enters a room. Or that I believe you suddenly found a love for mother earth and moved up north… you’re running from someth’n. I know it, and I bet he can smell it a mile away.” He directed his finger at Graham.

            “I…I don’t know what you’re on about…” Eric stammered, his complexion fading underneath his freckles. Dirk gave a loud snort and turned away, adding another log to the fire.

Graham sat silently in the chair. He’d been watching Eric closely as Dirk paced in front of him with his accusations and had noticed his arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his chin was down, and eyes averted. He was afraid and protecting himself, undoubtedly… but not from Dirk.

            “Eric.” Graham said with a gentle yet firm voice, “why did you move here? It obviously wasn’t your wife’s idea or even interest and you seem more likely to read Forbes magazine than National Geographic, so why the shift?” Eric took his eyes off Dirk but didn’t look at Graham, instead choosing to focus on the bookshelf.

            “Things were just too complicated in the city. I needed an escape.” He said irritably.

            “An escape from what?” Graham asked, sitting forward on the chair. Eric looked at him appraisingly.

            “Just complexity itself.” He answered flatly.

            “Not ready to say then, eh?” Graham said with an exhale. “Being on the run from your past doesn’t explain why you’d be listening in on a random conversation in the woods though.” He stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, eyeing a lonely diary sitting a level below the photo albums. “So, what did you think then?” He asked.

            Eric squinted at him, “What do you mean?”

            “About the conversation.” Graham replied. “About Dirk’s concerns regarding his wife’s disappearance. I admit it sounds a bit fishy to me. Woman suddenly goes missing, no note or goodbye and-- ” He looked to Dirk, “I assume her car was left?”

            Dirk shook his head. “No, she didn’t have one…usually walked about the area or sometimes would hitch a ride into town when I couldn’t take ‘er.”

            “Ah, my mistake. But still, bit odd to just disappear like that. So, what do you think then, Eric?”

            He looked between Graham and Dirk before standing from the bed and brushing dust off his pants. “I think that she got the fuck out of here like any sane person would if given the chance. Especially if you were married to a cretin like Dirk.”

            “You don’t know what they hell you’re talk’n ‘bout boy!” Dirk shouted in retaliation. “Chrissie loved me, I know it. Sure, I wasn’t the best husband, but she was a strong woman that knew what it was to live with a man and she accepted it. Bet the first thing you heard when you rolled up in your brand-new truck was that I drank too much and laid the hand to her now and then. Well, there’s some truth to that, I’ll admit… I can struggle to control my temper now and then, but so could she and I got it as good as I gave it. It’s how we were, which was no business of anyone’s but ours. But for twenty odd years she accepted it until, poof she’s gone. She was a strong woman. She’d ‘ve had the strength to tell me to fuck off to my face.” His ruddy complexion drained as he slumped against the wall, tears threatening to escape his dark eyes. He had been yelling to the heavens as much as anyone else. Suddenly a harsh knock reverberated from the front door. All three men turned to face the noise before it swung open, revealing Jenna Williams standing in its frame.

IV

            “Well boys, what’s all this yelling about then?” Jenna asked stepping into the cabin. Jim Fletcher shuffled in behind her furtively, not saying a word but rather sliding over to stand by the bookshelf, hands behind his back and facing the room as if a soldier at attention.

            “What are you doing here?” Eric asked her sharply.

            “I’d ask you the same thing darling if I didn’t already know the answer. I just need some air, I’ll walk.” She said in a mocking impression of her husband. “As if I’d buy that you wanted some fresh air. I only had to drive sixty seconds before I turned back and found that you’d run off to follow them here. Luckily Jim was kind enough to offer me a lift, which was convenient, as obviously I’m not going to trounce through the woods looking for some shitty little cabin. And now I find you here looking like some dishevelled loser with a bloody lip. I’d be worried that he’d been fighting,” She said turning to Graham and Dirk, “but knowing my husband I assume he was running away?” She sneered at Eric who returned a hateful glare.

            “Shut up Jenna” he said through gritted teeth.

            “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you Eric. But I don’t think so. No. I think that I am so fucking sick and tired of scrounging for a cell signal, bathing in cold water, eating shitty home cooked meals and getting poison ivy in places that one should never get poison ivy, that I see Detective Kelly as a God Damn gift! Sent from above!” She turned toward Graham “He was here peeping like a little Tom because he thinks you’re here for him. My dear husband is a little weasel of a criminal.” She folded her arms defiantly. Graham watched her shoulders drop and stance relax at these words, as if a pressure valve had finally been released. He looked at Eric, whose eyes burned with fury as he stared at his wife and grinded his teeth.

            “Well, I’m not here for Eric. Not that I know of at least.” Graham sighed, directing his response to the room. “I am supposed to be here for some peace and quiet so I can mull over a case…  I think this must be what my wife feels like when she tells someone she’s a doctor and they immediately show her their rash. No matter - the rash is out for everyone to see, so… Eric, what did you do?”

            Everyone turned to Eric. He looked between them, his eyes moving as if mice trying to escape a maze but eventually came to rest on his hands, which now embraced one another in comfort. He took slow purposeful breaths before speaking.

            “I worked in finance for a private equity firm in Toronto…we had some high-end clients. When you have certain clients, you don’t ask questions when they ask for help with moving money in a way that might be deemed less than above board. I was moving numbers with so many zeros stuck behind them you’d think I was writing code. In and out of these accounts every day. Just massive amounts of money and they’d always have just a few hundred or thousand tacked onto the end of them. I mean, what’s a couple thousand when you’re dealing in millions or billions, right? Inconsequential, I thought. Perhaps they wouldn’t notice a slightly more rounded number here and there… and even if they did, then who were they going to run to… ” he trailed off incomprehensibly.

            “Oh… I see.” Graham said, standing up to stretch his legs once more. Jim and Jenna were staring at Eric, a concerned comprehension on Jim’s face and gleeful contempt across Jenna’s. Dirk looked confused, waiting for an explanation.

            “Yeah…” Eric sighed.

            “Well, Eric. I’m a homicide detective. I don’t investigate theft, fraud or embezzlement. But my advice would be to approach someone that does, because I don’t think it’s the police that you need to be afraid of and I don’t believe for a moment that you’re up here hiding from them.”

Eric looked up at him and dropped his head into a slow nod.

            “Well, so what?” Dirk grumbled. “We already know that Eric’s a shit, and now we know he’s really a shit. But that doesn’t help me find my wife.” He had shaken his momentary confusion and started pacing once again.

            “Oh Dirk, you’re not on about that again, are you?” Jim asked incredulously, stepping forward. His hands were tucked into the large pockets of a plaid flannel jacket. “She left you. I told you I saw her hitching out of town that same day. She’s gone Dirk. You’ve gotta accept it.”

            “You saw her leave?” Graham asked raising an eyebrow.

            “Yeah, I did. If I hadn’t then I’d be raising the alarm right next to Dirk. She was a friend to all of us, but she wanted to get out so she did.”

            “You’re lyin’, Jim Fletcher.” Dirk said flatly.

            “And you’re fucking paranoid.” He retorted, now visibly annoyed. “You’ve no reason to think I’m lying. You just can’t believe that she’d finally had enough of you, so you throw around random accusations and theories!” Jim’s pleasant demeanor had evaporated, and he stepped toward Dirk with his jaw thrust forward and lip curled. Graham watched him closely but noticed that his hands were still firmly in his pockets despite the aggressive manoeuvre.

            Jenna nonchalantly walked around Jim and wiped off a spot on the dusty mattress beside her husband. Sitting down she crossed her legs and watched gleefully, wearing the first genuine smile that Graham had witnessed. It seemed that all she’d been waiting for was a bit of drama and it had finally arrived. Eric glanced at her briefly as she sat down but then retreated once more into himself, lost in his own misery and otherwise seemingly unaware of the conflict rising before him. The flames of the fire were weakening, and its light could no longer reach the corners of the cabin allowing darkness to slowly collapse upon them. Dirk stared at Jim momentarily before a broad grin exposed his yellowed teeth in a malicious grin.

            “No reason?” he chuckled softly, the fading firelight passing shadows over his face. “She was a writer, ya know? Not a fancy book writer or nothing, but she’d write everything. Journals. Tha’s all she wanted for gifts. Hell, I must have dozens in my house. If ever I wanted to know what she were up to or plan’n all I had to do was find her journal and take a look. Now don’ look at me like that Jenna, ya silly princess” He looked at her sharply as she’d let out a scoff. “She was my wife and I had a right to look, whether she hid ‘em or not. Anyway, I’ve been reading ‘em every day since she’s been gone, and right up to the day she disappeared she’d written her logs. And ya know what they were saying Jim?” He paused, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Graham saw an uneasiness cross over Jim’s face as his body tensed.

            “Nothin’” Dirk said. “Not a lick about leaving. No packing lists. No plans or schemes. Nothing but the usual bitching about her life. So, trust me, I know Chrissie and she wrote every little thing that ever crossed her blessed brain in those books, so if she were planning something like that, it’d be there.” He turned around and crouching, opened the door to the woodstove to readjust the charred logs. There was no wood left to add but he managed to ignite some remaining embers giving a surge of light to the centre of the room. Graham had been listening intently to Dirk; however, his eyes were fixed on Jim. He stood up slowly from the deep armchair and stretched his back. Looking around the room at the unexpected gathering he rubbed his beard and thought of what Ann would say if she knew. Wonder if I need to tell her…depends how it goes from here I suppose. He turned to face Jim and spoke in a measured voice.

            “Did you know about Chrissie’s literary habits, Jim?”

            “What? Why would I know about that? She wasn’t my wife.” He gave an uncomfortable laugh and tried to flash his white teeth but his smile failed him. Graham held his silence for a breath.

            “I didn’t ask why you might or might not know about it, Jim. I simply asked if you did know about it.” Jim’s eyes shifted before fixing themselves on the Graham.

            “No. I didn’t know… Detective.” No smile was attempted this time, his face quickly hardening. Graham slowly walked around him. Jim followed the movement, shifting his stance. Graham made his way to the shelf and ran his finger along the dusted wood, momentarily encountering a patch so clean it may have been recently polished.

            “Interesting then…” he said, “that you decided to put, what I assume is, one of Chrissie’s journals in your pocket when you first came in.” Jim’s hand involuntarily spasmed in his right pocket but he said nothing as Graham continued. “My wife, Annie, always accuses me of being a bit awkward with people. She suggests a number of reasons… childhood trauma, attachment issues, anxiety … but one of her favourites is that the job has made me suspicious of everyone’s behaviours, even if they are normal. I’ve been working on it, but not hard enough it seems since my first thought was that you wanted something from me, or perhaps the cottage itself, when you eagerly offered to bring me here. I can only imagine your relief when Jenna asked you to bring her to fetch her delinquent husband. Saved you the trouble of coming up with an excuse yourself.” He stepped forward and faced Jim. They were of similar heights and looked directly into one another’s eyes as Graham silently held out an open palm. After a moment of contemplation, Jim slowly removed the small journal from his pocket and placed it in Graham’s hand.

            “Thank you.” Graham said and walked over to the fireplace where the receding beams of light now concentrated around its dying embers. Crouching down he opened the diary as all but Jim watched him with bated breath. He silently read, working backward from the final pages and retreating into Chrissies final days. He looked up at the back of Jim’s head, his long grey hair draped over his red plaid jacket and his focus directed toward the shelf. He momentarily glanced at Dirk who was watching from the other side of the fire. Graham noticed a fire poker leaning against the woodstove next to him and quietly grabbing it, slid it along the ground to rest behind the lounge chair. Ignoring the confused stares, he looked back at Jim. 

            “It seems you knew Chrissie quite well Jim.” He said ominously.

            “What the hell does tha’ mean?” Dirk asked, his eyes squinting in the fading light.

            “I’m sorry Dirk, but Jim and Chrissie had been having an affair…and judging by the last few entries, it was coming to an end.” Graham opened the book and read:

November 30th

I just don’t know anymore. Jim has changed. He was once an escape from Dirk but now I feel like I’ve simply been captured by another. His sweetness is gone and he keeps asking me where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing.

December 10th

Jim scared me tonight. He arrived at the cabin in a fit of fury. He was yelling about having seen Dirk and I ‘together’ the other night, and that I was unfaithful to him. Dirk and I live together though,

 and I didn’t understand what he meant … but I’m starting to think he has been watching me. Dirk had gotten drunk again a few nights ago and took advantage of me. Could this be what he’s talking about?

December 15th

This is it! I. NEED. TO. GO. Jim has gone mad. He’s everywhere I go. I found him in my cabin tonight reading my journal! I told him this is my sanctuary and I can write what I want and that he has been CRAZY. Like every man, he said it was MY FAULT. That I made him crazy. I am proud of myself though. I didn’t let him push me around. I told him to fuck off and that I was DONE. I’m getting out of here TONIGHT. Fuck. Them. All.

            Graham closed the journal and raised his eyes from his crouched position in front of the dying fire. Jim had turned around and his face was shrouded in darkness but one could make out the slightest smile at the corner of his mouth. The room was heavy with silence and the sound of crackling embers may have been fireworks for the way that they broke the air.

            “So?” Jim said softly.

            Graham stood; the journal clutched in his hand. Jim started to chuckle softly and then his chest began heaving as booming laughs escaped his broad grin which travelled around the room from person to person, all of whom stared at him in silence. His reverberating laughter stopped abruptly with an echo.

            “It makes for an exciting read, doesn’t it?” He said flatly. “Other than that, though…”  he stepped forward into the centre of the room, his back to the doorway, “it’s worthless”. A broad grin spread across his face once again and his arms open as if embracing the room’s animosity.

Dirk stepped forward, his entire body vibrating and cheeks wet with tears he looked directly into Jim’s impassive face.

            “You…you killed ‘er” he said in a hoarse whisper. He couldn’t look away, trying to understand how a stranger had embodied someone that he once knew. A mix of cold fury and grief lay heavily behind his eyes and his breath came in ragged gasps. Jim stepped forward and placed a hand on Dirk’s shoulder. He bent slightly, looking directly into his eyes and with a practiced smile said,

            “Oh Dirk. My dear simple friend… you need to prove it.” Dirks shoulders dropped allowing the hand to slide off. He looked back at Graham and the hard face that met him on the road was no more. Tragedy was etched in every line and even his wild beard had been tempered by his tears. Dejectedly he shuffled slowly around Jim and left the cabin, the door hanging open behind him as Jim straightened his stance and looked at the Detective. Graham’s gaze momentarily followed Dirk out the door until he disappeared into the darkness.

            “We’re going to find her Jim.” Graham said, returning his attention to what lay in front of him. “I can have a team here by morning. We will scour the woods and drag the lake if need be… we will find her.”

            “I truly hope so Detective. As I am very concerned for her welfare.” He grinned widely. “But I think you’ll need to expand your search to the rest of Ontario, as if you remember my earlier statement, I saw here hitching out of town.” He looked over at Eric and Jenna and back to Graham before opening his mouth to speak once more but suddenly gasped. His eyes lost focus and his hand froze mid-air in front of him. He stood as if a manikin waiting to be repositioned, but slowly in imperceptible increments he began to fall forward, accelerating until he landed heavily on the ground face first. In his place stood Dirk, his breathing heavy and eyes streaming with tears as he looked down at where an axe had been heavily buried into Jim’s back. Falling slowly to his knees, his stomach churning and heart heavy, Graham watched in silence as Dirk’s chest began to heave arrhythmically, and what he thought could be sobs were born to be laughter. His laughter expanded to fill the corners of the room which the warm light of the fire once occupied. He stared madly at the wound which he'd inflicted before looking up and locking eyes with Graham.

            Dirk shrugged, “I thought there’d be more blood.”