Mind Games (12 page)

SHERI

Cameron was now in a large Victorian styl
e
living room decorated with a giant patterned rug on the hardwood floor, embroidered cloth wallpaper, and cherry red furniture. The curvaceous couches and chairs were carved from pine trees then stained to accent the cherry red baseboards and ceiling trim. All of the furniture also included at least one piece of floral upholstery.

Cameron wished he had his camera so he could document the eclectic room. Then, he immediately scanned the room, searching for an exit of some kind, but a cheerful humming from the kitchen interrupted his search.

The homey smell of soup wafted in, riding on the coattails of the cheerful hums. A poof of white hair poked out of the kitchen doorframe just as an elderly woman let loose a musical laugh.

“Looks like we’ve got another visitor, huh?” She stepped out into the doorway and wiped her hands on a large apron. The woman was heavyset, and no taller than four feet. The wrinkles and age spots hardly seemed to dampen the warmth that projected from her effervescent smile. The grandma-like figure approached Cameron who was still seated in the wheelbarrow. She stepped with a waddle in her short stride; and her southern accent twanged with a melodic cadence.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, then. I was cheering for you out there.”

Frazzled by the bumpy elevator ride, Cameron began to wonder how the woman knew of his accident from her removed vantage point.

“Let me help you out of this thing…” Though her speech was lightning fast, she held onto her r’s and a’s in particular. Her accident reminded him of a southern Lucille O’Ball.

She carefully dumped Cameron onto the large wooden floor, and he caught himself with his frayed hands. He hadn’t noticed it before, but tiny cuts ran across his palms, and he pulled them towards his chest as they hit the wood flooring. In the brightness of the Victorian living room, he could finally see just how much the windshield of the SUV shredded his palms.

“Oh, heavens! Look at your hands!” She zipped to the kitchen and returned with some hot-soaked hand towels.

“It’s going to sting at first, but this will help clean out some of those cuts. We don’t want you getting an infection, no sir. Now, I want you to just relax. Go find a nice comfy place to sit…I’ll get you a blanket and a change of clothes.” She started to leave, but snapped her head around. “Are you hungry?”

Cameron nodded as he pulled himself up and limped over to sit in a hefty, firm-cushioned couch.

“Okie dokie. I’ll be right back then with some soup as well.” Then she shuffled back into the kitchen.

Cameron looked around the room. The pictures on the walls were oddly reversed with only the bare backs of the frames showing. Although the feel of the room made Cameron remember his own grandma’s house, there were staggering differences. This woman did not live alone. The worn-out nature of the room suggested heavy activity from many hands and feet. Most of the wallpaper peeled in several areas revealing past applications of different colors or patterns, which also showed a sort of history of the room, possibly dating back over a hundred years. Cameron figured this estimation based on a different layer of wallpaper every twenty years.

Tracks of mud from various boot prints worn the wood floor leading into the adjacent dining room, and a couple nails poked out of the flooring. A few shovels also rested in the corner of the room, and water stains clumped in specific areas on the ceiling. Cameron craned his neck further up and noticed a portion of the ceiling in the corner had a gaping hole in it, revealing a dark crawlspace.

He looked across to the freight elevator he’d just emerged from and realized the space had once been a sizeable fireplace. The bricks forming the outer rim and mantle were still in tact, but they had been reinforced with metal plating to withstand the tremendous weight of the lift. A few of the bricks had also been punched out and replaced with long hooks, supporting several limp overalls looped through the straps.

If the fireplace were still there, it would appear that the overalls were hanging to dry from the winter activities of grandchildren enjoying a romp in the snow. However, this nostalgic illusion was created more by the sweet smell of the kitchen rather than the realities of the room since the hanging overalls were much too large for children. They obviously belonged to adults, yet they were sized accordingly to different body types with some pant legs hovering over the floor and others draping onto the floor by several inches.

The senior woman reentered the room carrying a stack of clean clothes and a tray of steaming soup with a side of grape jam on buttered toast. “Nothing like a late night snack. You’re a lucky duck, my friend…’cause I was just cooking up tomorrow’s lunch. I try to make it in big batches so as to save a penny here and there. I’m on a fixed budget as it is.”  She pulled over a square ottoman and sat for a moment, smiling at Cameron as the soup warmed his face. “Oh, my dear, I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Sheri Johnson. Welcome to my little cottage home!”

“I’m Cameron…Cameron Frost. Quite the place you have here.” Cameron laughed nervously. He envied the group of crows that had circled above him amidst the forest trees. “I didn’t know I was going to get suc
h
specia
l
treatmen
t
on the way over here.”

“Yes, well the guys have their own way with new guests. They aren’t really talkers if you noticed, but they’ve been through a lot. I don’t blame them, and you shouldn’t either. I’m just glad they found you out there. Now, that you’re here, safe and sound, don’t worry your little head about nothing because I’m going to take care of you. Anyways, what a storm, huh? Goodness sakes. I thought I was about to have a mini heart attack when that first clap of thunder rolled through the house. The angels must be bowling in heaven! I called up one of the fellas to stand guard by the hutch just in case any glassware decided to jump off!” Her laugh was a mad monkey jumping on a piano, his feet gleefully pounding keys with no mind to octave or tempo.

Sheri scooted the ottoman closer. “So, I’m just so glad, you know…that you’re safe. You tumbled right down that hill like a raccoon rolling from a dumpster! And, cheese and crackers, it’s just a miracle you’re here, Cameron. I sure hope you didn’t break any bones.”

He couldn’t believe a real woman – flesh and blood – actuall
y
talke
d
the way she did. It seemed rehearsed in some way, yet through his CSI work, Cameron learned the world was even stranger than he thought. Of course, if the woman’s behavior was a performance, she deserved an award for being a total ham.

Cameron leaned forward, “I definitely sprained my ankle and scraped myself up a bit, but I’ll live.”

“So, you’re in construction then?”

Cameron tilted his head. “I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, well there are no secrets here.” She winked.

Cameron wondered how the hell she possibly knew about the lie he’d told the men outside. It wasn’t like he went around telling everyone he worked in construction.

Cameron dipped some of the toast in the soup. The hot soup dissolved the bread, and melted in his mouth. “Duplexes. I was on my way to a construction site for some new duplexes,” he lied.

“Really? Where?” She blinked and smoothed her apron with her hands. “I know this area like the back of my hand. You probably noticed we don’t have many neighbors out here.”

“Oh, just about another hour south along the highway.”

“How neat. As you can see…” she motioned towards the gaping hole in the ceiling. “I do a bit of construction around here as well, so you’ll fit right in. Hopefully you’re better at it than I am.”

Cameron slurped a spoonful of hot soup almost burning his tongue. The salty broth trickled down his throat. “What kind of soup is this?”

“It’s not soup, silly. It’s stew. Rabbit stew.”

Cameron gulped and eyed the aged woman. “Wow, it’s really nice.”

“I’ve made this recipe hundreds of times. It was my husband’s favorite,” Sheri said.

Cameron looked into his bowl and thought back to Dan’s warnings about the alleged hermit. “I have a friend who like’s this kind of stew.”

“Yes, I’ve had people tell me it’s famously good. I’ve even considered writing my own cookbook, but they keep me busy as a bee around here…cooking and cleaning…”

Cameron eyed the muddy wooden floor.

“…well…mostly cooking,” she laughed. “Cameron, I’ll let you have a minute to enjoy your stew and change into some dry clothes. I want you to forget all about the last few hours. Just relax. I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up some brownies in the oven if you need me. When you’re done eating, I’ll help you get squared away for the night.”

Sheri trundled towards the kitchen.

Cameron downed the rest of the meal
,
but with each gulp, he worried the woman spiked the soup with a neurotoxin or some weird potion. Whatever was in the soup proved delicious, and his full stomach wasn’t complaining.

He quickly changed into the dry clothes. The gash in his leg made it difficult to put on the flannel pajamas, and a wild thought flashed over him: he may be stepping into the same clothing once worn by the legendary Rabbit Foot Hermit. He shivered at the thought.

Sheri was humming in the kitchen as Cameron limped in. The pots and pans were shabby, and a baseball game broadcasted through a tiny, tubular TV set next to the microwave.

“All done I see,” Sheri said and took a final taste of the banana cream pudding she was cooking up. “This is for the brownies. Don’t tell anyone, but this dessert isn’t for tomorrow. You’ll come to learn I don’t really share desserts unless The Leader puts in a special request. I usually just make the sweets for myself. It’s my sweet tooth. I just can’t get enough. Shameful, I know.”

She opened the oven to check the brownies with a toothpick.

Cameron nodded towards the tube. “I see you like baseball.”

“Me?” Sheri laughed. “No, please. This isn’t baseball. Come here. Take a closer look. Now that you’re one of us, you might as well know the family secrets.”

As Cameron leaned towards the screen, he realized the baseball footage was only a cover-up to disguise a fuzzy security tape of four different angles outside the stump hatch and nearby highway. The top right angle loosely displayed the SUV wreck near the bottom of the ditch. A pair of over-the-ear headphones hung on a hook by the screen.

No wonder the lantern men hardly spoke. A complete wacko was listening on the other end.

“Now, I never said I was psychic, and I wasn’t lying. Although, I’m sure it gave you the willies there for a bit, but that’s all part of the fun. As you can see, this kitchen is the main operations of this whole shebang!” Sheri widened her eyes and whispered, “This should be our little secret.”

Cameron got the feeling Sheri said this to everyone.

“Honey, I can’t even tell you what that diamond thing means in the baseball field; something to do with the scoring procedures? No clue. You think I have time to be sitting down watching mindless sporting events happening who knows where? I don’t think so. I usually just keep this on in the background so I can see who they’re bringing in.” She gestured down, pointing to the tunnels below. “I’ve got to keep these people fed and well-rested. Some of them even call me Gama Sheri. Isn’t that just sweeter than a melted Popsicle? Oh, I just love that.” She tapped her wooden spoon on the pan.

Tuckered out, Cameron leaned against the doorway as Sheri rambled on. “Now, Cameron I have a few more secrets. I just want to be direct with you if that’s alright.” She spoke in a hushed tone. “Sometimes…when no one’s up here, I like to pretend that I’m playing the drums on the pots and pans. Boy, I make a bit of a ruckus. How come you think I don’t have any neighbors anymore? Gosh, I’m afraid I may have just scared them right off the land. Good riddance to them. I’ve got a big enough family now – I call y’all my family. And Cameron, you’re lucky number forty-one. Lord knows I’m sure not lonely. Heaven no. Never been lonely a day in my life.”

“Forty-one?” Cameron only counted eight men on the way in.

“You bet your britches. And the forty other people that arrived before you weren’t nearly as handsome.” Sheri turned off the stovetop and moved some of the pots of bubbling liquid to potholders on the counter.

“Wait, you mean there are forty people down there?”

“Forty-one including you, Cameron, and no they’re not all in the tunnels at once. The two units rotate between a day and night shift. Not counting you, there are fifteen women and twenty-five men, but you’re the first one they’ve brought in for several months now. It shouldn’t take you long to adjust to underground life. My husband and I had trouble the first year or so when we moved here, but we found a way to make it nice for ourselves. You see, when my husband Bill was alive, he’d always read to me before we fell asleep. What a gem, huh? He’s what I call a ranger. A real man. I know some women say real men don’t cry, but my Bill was a leaker,” she snickered. “Course, he hardly attracted friends with hi
s
“Stay Away or I’ll Shoot Your Tail Off
”
signs plastered from here to the highway. Cameron, are you married?”