Haunted (Wolf Lake) (4 page)

Harold waved his hand dismissively.  “It was nothing,” he insisted.  “I go for a walk every morning anyway, so keeping an eye on your cabin simply gives me a destination to walk to.  I’m happy to do it.”

“Isn’t walking dangerous?” Amelia asked.

“Dangerous?  No, not at all,” Harold replied.  “I suppose you have to make sure the tourists see you if you’re walking at the side of the road.  We get some crazy drivers around here.  But that’s why I wear my bright red cap…it shows up well!”

“I was actually thinking of
all the wildlife in the area,” Amelia replied. 

“Rabbits are the animals I see most often,” Harold replied.  “There was a bear sighting last year but it was because a camper had left open food in a tent.  The bears generally keep to themselves and stay away from the populated parts.”

“What about wolves?” Amelia wanted to know.  “Don’t they come out at night?”

The old man
chuckled.  “You’d think with a name like Wolf Lake we’d have wolves galore here, but that really isn’t the case these days.  Over the years environmental changes and hunting have caused the wolf population to decrease rather drastically.  It’s rare that anyone sees a wolf around here anymore.”

“I saw one last night,” Amelia
informed him.  “It was around my cabin and then later I saw a wolf in the woods – I think maybe it was the same one.”

Harold’s expression was one of surprise.  “Strange,” he said before taking a bite of his toast. 
Then the diner door jingled and Harold called out to the person who’s walked in.

“Hey Chase, come here.”

It was the gruff young guy from the hardware shop.  “What?” he demanded, arms crossed.  He looked as surly as ever, his blue eyes bright and his face unshaven.  His long, dark hair fell across his forehead in a way that made Amelia think he hadn’t bothered to comb it.

“We need your truck,” Harold announced.  “Amelia here got her car stuck in the mud and we need you to haul it out.  Oh, have you two met?  Amelia, this is –”

“We’ve met,” Chase interrupted with an abrupt nod in Amelia’s general direction.  “I have to be at the shop in 10 minutes to unload a truck that’s coming in,” he said, pausing to tell the diner owner that he wanted a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin to go.  “I’ll pull the car out after work.”

Without waiting for an answer, Chase grabbed his order, threw some money on the counter and walked out of the diner. 

“…Thanks?” Amelia called after him.  She turned her attention back to Harold, who was stacking the tiny round containers of coffee creamer one on top of the other.  “What’s his problem?” she demanded, once again annoyed by Chase’s lack of people skills.

“He’s okay,” Harold replied, focused on the task at hand.  “He has a good heart under that tough exterior…hardworking and depen
dable and helps his old man out a lot.  Bert has cancer, you know,” he said as though Amelia knew who Bert was.  “He can’t work right now so Chase has taken over the hardware store.  He’s a good kid underneath it all, that boy.”

“Oh.” 
Amelia wished she’d kept her opinion to herself because now she felt like a jerk. 

“What were we talking about before Chase came in?  Ah yes, wolves.  You do know the legend of Wolf Lake, don’t you?”

Amelia shook her head.

“Legend has it that spirits are reincarnated in the form of wolves. 
They rise up from the fog at night and roam the land.  Are you familiar with the concept of spirit guides?”

“No.”

“The Indians around these parts believe that animals are put on Earth to guide us humans along our path in life.  To some tribes, the wolf is the most sacred and highly regarded teacher of them all because it symbolizes strength, wisdom, death and rebirth.  The name ‘Wolf Lake’ comes from the Indians who settled in this area, in case you were wondering.”

“I see.”

Harold laughed apologetically.  “Listen to me going on and on about myths like a silly old man.  I imagine you have a busy day planned so I won’t keep you.  Are you enjoying your time at the cabin?”

Amelia considered the question for a moment.  “It’s been hard coming back and sorting through Jake’s things
,” she admitted, “but in a way I think it’s been cathartic.”

Harold nodded.  “
Good for you.  You’re a strong woman, Amelia.”

She looked away.  Everyone kept telling her how strong she was but she didn’t feel strong.  Maybe she put on a brave front but inside she felt lost without her husband.  No one knew the way she still cried herself to sleep at night or was haunted by Jake in her dreams.  No, she wasn’t strong.  She felt like a fraud for allowing anyone to believe otherwise.

“Jake was a good boy,” he said with a distant look in his eye and a faint smile on his lips.  “He was a happy boy…he was the happiest I’d ever seen him when he brought you home to his parents that first summer after he went away to college.  He was crazy about you, you know,” Harold added with a wink.

Amelia blushed.  “I know.”

After breakfast, Amelia picked up a few more groceries and Harold drove her to her car so she could get the paint she’d bought out of the trunk.  Once he dropped her off at her cabin, she spent the remainder of the day sorting through more of Jake’s things.  She packed up a box of items she thought his parents might like to have and made a pile of stuff to donate. 

Of course, there were some things, like Jake’s favorite flannel shirt, that she simply couldn’t bear to part with.  Those went on the shelf at the back of the closet, tucked away out of sight.  Just knowing she could pull them down and touch them whenever she wanted was a comfort.

After all that was done, it was time to tackle the painting. 

Amelia hated painting but she threw herself into the task, wanting to do a good job
for Jake.  She was so engrossed in her work that the rest of the afternoon slipped away without her even realizing.  It was only when her stomach began to growl that she noticed how late it was.

She washed her paint-flecked hands at the kitchen sink and quickly made herself a bologna sandwich.  It wasn’t fancy but spending time at the cabin wasn’t about being fancy.  And besides, it tasted fantastic.  Apparently she’d worked up quite the appetite despite her enormous breakfast
at the diner.

She walked from room to room admiring her work.  She’d initially intended to just fix the peeling paint in the bathroom and save the rest of the work for another time, but one thing had led to another.  Before Amelia had known it, she’d painted the entire interior of the
cabin.

The fresh coat of paint was crisp and clean and made the whole place look new and inviting.

But the paint fumes were pretty strong. 

She hadn’t dared to open the windows given the summer heat.  Instead she’d sim
ply relied on the overhead fans which were only so effective.  Now that the sun was beginning to go down, she could finally open the place up and let some fresh air in.  She eagerly cranked open all the windows.

Everything cooled off at dusk.  A refreshing breeze was blowing in off the lake, carrying the scent of water lilies.  Amelia inhaled their sweet perfume greedily, basking in the crisp evening air.  She wanted more of it.

After quickly surveying the surrounding woods for wolves, she stepped out onto the back deck.  There was a hint of autumn in the air – just that subtle underlying chill that whispers summer is on its way out.  Amelia sat down on the steps and leaned her head against the wooden railing.

The change of seasons was always bittersweet for her.  She adored summer.  She
’d always lived for those long, hot days full of sunshine and relaxation.  She mourned the loss of those lazy summer days and hot, sultry nights.  But at the same time, autumn was beautiful with its changing leaves and crisp, cool temperatures. 

Fog hung heavy in the air, blanketing the ground in white mist.  Off to her left, Amelia could hear a bird singing a strange tune.  There was a stillness out there…a calm that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The wind rustled through the trees and then Amelia bolted upright, her head cocked to the side.

She could have sworn she’d heard something – or was it just the breeze?

She listened and heard it again. 

“Amelia.”  The whisper was that of a male voice, just
a few meters away from her.  She stood up, peering into the forest uncertainly, ready to run back inside and lock the door behind her if need be.

“Who’s there?” she called, hoping her voice wouldn’t shake.

“It’s me.”

She blinked, trying to place what sounded like a familiar voice.  Although just a whisper, it sounded like that of a young male, so it couldn’t be Harold – besides, he wouldn’t startle her like that.  She thoug
ht of the two young frat guys from the cottage down the road.  “Mike?  Shawn?  Is that you?” she demanded.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Tears immediately sprung to Amelia’s eyes.  Jake’s pet name for her had been Sweetheart.  Goose bumps broke out on her arms and she swiped the tears from her eyes with a shaking hand.  “Who the hell are you?” she demanded.  “Is this your idea of a sick joke?”

As the leaves rustled again, a lump of fear rose in Amelia’s throat.  She expected – what, an axe murderer to emerge from the trees?  Maybe…but that didn’t happen. 

Amelia’s gaze darted around nervously, trying to determine where the voice had come from.  It sounded a lot like Jake but that was impossible.  She’d buried her husband.  It couldn’t possibly be him…and that made her livid.

“
You’re not him,” she growled furiously.  Sure, Amelia was scared but mostly she was just angry.  What kind of messed up freak would pretend to be her deceased husband, even going so far as to learn how to imitate his voice?  It was incomprehensible.

“I know you were always a skeptic, Sweetheart, but I promise it really is me.”

“Let me see you.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” he replied.  “You can’t see me unless…”

“Unless what?” she snapped impatiently.  She had no patience for this sick jokester’s bullshit.

“Come to the lake.”

Amelia felt like she could throw up.  “I’m not going there,” she told him flatly, feeling as though he’d thrust his fist into her chest and torn out a piece of her heart.  “I can’t go there.”

Wolf Lake
was the one place Amelia desperately wanted to avoid.  If coming to the cabin had been difficult, going down to the lake would be impossible for her.  It was the place where Jake had died.

“Okay Sweetheart,” the voice that was a dead ringer for Jake’s replied softly
, with a touch of sadness.  “I understand.  But if you change your mind, you should come soon, before midnight.”

“Or what?” she replied sarcastically.  “I’ll turn into a pumpkin?” 

“I love you, Amelia.  I always will.”

Amelia turned on her heel and stormed back into the cabin.  She slammed the door with a loud bang and turned the deadbolt.  Then she leaned her head against the fogged up windowpane and took deep, gut-wrenching breaths.

It didn’t take long for them to turn to sobs.

She didn’t have particularly strong beliefs about
an afterlife.  She like the idea that her husband was floating around in Heaven somewhere, watching an endless procession of football games and hanging out with his deceased loved ones.  But did she actually believe that was the case?

Well no, not really.  Jake was in a casket in the ground.  She should know; she put him there.

But that voice…it was the same voice that visited her in her dreams.  What if…?

Feeling foolish, Amelia went back out onto the deck.

“Hello?” she called into the forest timidly.  “Are you still there?”

The rustling of the wind in the trees was her only answer.

Amelia still didn’t have her car back.  Chase had said he’d get it back to her after work but now it was almost nightfall and he was nowhere to be seen.  She went back into the house and threw on a pair of running shoes and an old hoodie of Jake’s that had been left hanging in the closet. 

Remembering the wolf, she looked around
the cabin for something to protect herself.  She wished she hadn’t insisted Jake get rid of the gun he’d kept to scare off coyotes, but she hadn’t liked having it so nearby.  She settled on a table lamp with a sturdy iron base and, with it in hand, marched out the door.

The lake wasn’t far from the cabin.  That was one of th
e things Jake had loved most about their secluded location.  The part of Wolf Lake near the cabin was quite private as boaters and swimmers preferred the sandy manmade beach portion down at the other end.  At one time that had seemed like a good thing.

As Amelia made her way to the lake, she wondered if she was walking the same path Jake had taken on the last night of his life.  She stared at the tall trees in the fading light of dusk, trying to see them through her husband’s eyes. 

Had he already been drinking as he’d crashed through the forest, snapping twigs and crushing wildflowers?  Or had he waited until he’d reached the lake to crack open a beer?