Lights Over Cloud Lake

by Nathan Hystad

  This kind of weather did make me feel safe and cozy. Back home when it poured like this, I’d open my windows wide and listen to the sounds of the city in the storm. I’d have a cup of coffee in my hands while using my eBook reader to devour a thriller, often about a female FBI agent or a strong mother defending her children from some insane killer. Part of me wished I could transport myself to my apartment, to open the panes and sit on my couch with a good book.

  I parked at Buddy’s Diner, finding it quite busy. A family exited, running for their SUV, the mom holding a jacket above her head to stay dry. I smiled as I watched them, giggling in the rain, the dad soaked by the time the kids were in the back seat.

  I didn’t bother using an umbrella for the twenty feet, so by the time I was inside, water dripped from the tip of my nose. There was one table open, but it was meant for six people, so I found a seat at the counter bar. It was the one on the far right, and the stool to my left was vacant.

  Isabelle caught my eyes from across the room and sauntered over to me. “You either hate to cook or you love my company,” she kidded, slipping me the oversized menu. “Lucky me, here’s my favorite local and favorite visitor, all at the same time.”

  I turned around and saw Clark standing there, his hair wet, and he was grinning at Isabelle. “How convenient. You’re my favorite server on the clock, Izzy. My order all good?” he asked.

  “Right as rain, pardon the pun. Have a seat. Want lunch while you’re here?” she asked.

  I wasn’t looking at him now, just staring forward, hoping he didn’t join me.

  “Sure, why not? I have the day off. And it’ll give me the chance to meet my competition.” Clark pulled the stool out and sat, turning to face me. His eyes sprang wide open and his jaw dropped. “You…”

  I knew it. He did recognize me. I should have never come here, especially when I knew he always came to Buddy’s.

  “Sorry. I mean, didn’t I see you here the other night, then at the Pig?” he asked, and it became clear he didn’t know who I was. That I wasn’t Jessica Carver, just some tourist he’d seen around.

  “That’s right. Eva Heart.” I didn’t make the awkward handshake at the cramped diner bar.

  “Clark Patterson. Nice to meet you, Eva. Here with your family?” he asked, and I noticed him look over at my left hand.

  I almost laughed and said, ‘Smooth, Clark.’

  “Journalist. Doing a fluff piece on the UFO sightings in the area,” I told him, trying to make it sound less interesting than I really found it.

  “That’s cool. Did you hear about the overnight tour this evening? I’m going. An author’s running it, and Henry from the feed store’s hosting on his land. Should be interesting.” Clark was fidgeting with the menu.

  He was going? That wasn’t good for me. I really didn’t want him around for this, but he didn’t seem to be putting two and two together. I didn’t look much like that little girl from nineteen years ago, so I couldn’t blame him. He was a lot different too, but the eyes gave him away; the smirk as well.

  There was no way around it unless I wanted to bail on the event, which I didn’t. It was going to be the central piece of my article, the writer taking part in a ceremony of watching the skies during sighting season. It was gold. “I’ll be there too.”

  “You will? That’s great… I mean, that’ll be great for your story. Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” Clark flipped his coffee cup over, and so did I.

  “She’s from New York, Clarky boy,” Isabelle said, interrupting us as she poured the coffees. “And if you don’t think a beautiful woman like that has a rich man in the city, you have to be kidding yourself.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and Clark did too. “Don’t expect a tip today, okay, Izzy?” Clark lifted his menu up, blocking the waitress from our line of sight. “So, as I was saying, where are you from?”

  “New York, and no, there is no rich man waiting for me back home,” I said, regretting it. Remembering the lithe arm snaking around his waist by the pool table the other night, I had to ask him, “Is your girlfriend going with you tonight?”

  He looked stunned but composed himself quickly. “Becky? Oh, the bar, you saw us… She’s a friend, that’s all. Do I know you?” he asked, sending my heart racing. He was going to call me out, point at me, knocking his stool over, and he’d tell everyone I was Jessica Carver, the girl who’d vanished the night of the Summer Kick-Off in 2001. But he didn’t; he just stared harder, as if sheer will would provide the answer he was seeking.

  “I’m sure you don’t. It’s my first trip to your little town,” I said, more playfully than I normally would have.

  “And how are you liking it?” he asked.

  “It’s… quaint. I’m staying at Cloud Lake Cabins,” I said, unsure why I gave him the added information.

  “I like those guys. I did their hot water tank retrofit last fall. Fast payers,” he said, and I returned to my menu. “I hope you weren’t saving this seat for anyone.”

  “Just the local plumber,” I said.

  He looked worried. “How did you know…?”

  “Clark, you just told me you did the hot water tanks at the Cabins.” I laughed at him, and he rolled his eyes.

  “You’ve caught me on an off day. I swear I’m far more put together than what you’re now seeing,” he said.

  “You two kids ready to order?” Isabelle asked from behind us, startling me.

  Clark motioned for me to go first, and I asked for the soup and a turkey wrap. Clark ordered a clubhouse with fries, and for a moment, we didn’t talk, just sat in silence as we each sipped our coffees.

  “How crazy is it that we’ll both be at Henry’s tonight. You have a tent?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I do, but if it’s raining this bad, I’m not expecting to get any sleep.”

  “It’s supposed to clear by late evening. Tell you what. We can buddy up. These things always have a safety protocol. They don’t want anyone wandering off into the trees or the fields alone, especially not after what’s happened in this town before.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, wishing I hadn’t, but needing to.

  “Cloud Lake has lost a few people. Unsolved disappearances, and even some of the solved ones haunt us.” He stared into the mirror beyond the bar. “Sometimes more than the open cases,” he whispered, and I didn’t press him.

  “So we buddy up?” I asked. I knew this was a bad idea, but being here with Clark again felt right. He was my first love, the first boy I really wanted to kiss, to have hold me, to tell me I was pretty, and I thought about that time at Local Beach; while the others smoked and drank, making out, he sat with me, our knees grazing, his finger touching mine, and the electricity I felt.

  “I mean, if you want to,” he said.

  I nodded. “Can’t be any worse than some random crazy alien hunter, I guess.” I smiled at him.

  “Only time will tell,” he admitted. “I do have a fifth wheel. Lots of room, beds, kitchen, bathroom. It’s better than using the porta-potties Henry rents.”

  The idea of going into Clark’s private trailer concerned me, but I didn’t say so. “That’s great. I’ll park my tent outside. If I see the aliens descending, I’ll be sure to throw a rock at your window or something,” I joked. For some reason, I couldn’t stop playing with Clark. He was making it really easy to kid around, in a way not many people could do. John was nice, kind, but he didn’t have this playful side to him, nor did most of the people I spent time around back home. It was endearing. For a second, I wondered what might have been if I’d never disappeared that day. Maybe Clark and I would…

  “I have a grill too. Izzy’s hooking me up with twenty burgers and buns for everyone. I thought it would be nice to do the cooking,” Clark said.

  “How many are signed up?” I asked.

  “Think with you, there’ll be around twelve. Less than last year,” he told me.

  “This has happened before?”


  “This isn’t the first one. No, Mr. Neville has done five, I think. I’ve been to two of them,” Clark admitted.

  Neville. I knew the name from somewhere. “Neville. You mean Oscar Neville?” I recalled the borrowed book from the library in my cabin.

  “The very same. Wow, you’ve really done your research for this story,” Clark said.

  “Why do you go, Clark? To the UFO event?” I asked him curiously.

  He shrugged. “Because I find it intriguing. Life on other planets. It’s fascinating to think there could be beings from different worlds coming to see us, to view us from their ships, and Cloud Lake of all places. It makes it a little easier to get up and go to work for me, if that makes sense,” he said, and I nodded.

  “Have you ever seen any lights?” I asked him, and was surprised when he said one word in reply.

  “Yes.”

  Isabelle came over with a smile and dropped our plates off, winking at me as someone called for her attention.

  I wanted to grab Clark by the collar and throw a barrage of questions at him, but I paced myself and took it slow. “Where did you see the light?”

  “By the lake, years ago. I was trying to chase… never mind.” He looked away, and Isabelle came with our lunch. I wanted to bring up his memory, to hear more about it, but I sensed it involved me. How had he seen the lights? He said he was chasing someone.

  “And at this Oscar Neville’s thing? Has there ever been a sighting?” I asked.

  “Not that I know of, but he says the chances are slim. It’s more about sharing a mutual belief, and you know… grilling burgers and having some beer with friends,” he said, picking away at his French fries.

  “Have you been married?” I asked out of the blue, and couldn’t believe I’d said it.

  He laughed, dropping a fry on my plate. “I saw you eyeballing these,” he told me, and I took the offered food and dipped it into his puddle of ketchup before eating it. “No, Miss Heart. I have never been married. But what a great question to ask a stranger at a diner.”

  “It’s my go-to. Shall we discuss religion and political views next?” I asked, taking another fry off his plate.

  The chimes rang, and I noticed the uniform before I heard the voice. “Can I get a cup of coffee, Izzy?” McCrae boomed. He sauntered over to the register and glanced at the bar, meeting my gaze. I saw the corners of his mouth tilt up, and he made straight for me like an arrow to a bullseye. “Miss Heart. I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you feeling all right?”

  Clark was watching me from his peripheral as he turned to McCrae. “What happened, Eva?” Clark asked.

  McCrae didn’t seem to think it was odd I was sitting there having lunch with the local plumber, and he answered for me. “Eva here is the one that found Cloud Lake’s missing treasure and brought her home.”

  Clark paled, and I heard utensils drop around the diner. The entire room seemed to get quieter, and I wanted to hide under a table to avoid the stares. “That was you? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I… I didn’t want to make a big deal over it. Plus, we don’t really know each other. It’s not my personality type to go around shouting all the things I managed to do, especially when it was pure and unadulterated luck,” I said quietly to Clark.

  He grabbed my hands. “This is amazing. Carly was found by you? You’re a damned hero, that’s what you are.”

  “Enough. I’m just glad she’s home,” I said.

  “Either way, Carly is safe because of Miss Heart here, and the town is eternally grateful, as are the Millers. I hear you were over there today.” McCrae grabbed an offered to-go cup of coffee from Isabelle, and she waved away his bill.

  I nodded. “I saw her today. She was doing surprisingly well. She’s a strong girl,” I said, almost daring someone to deny it. The diner returned to normal, and people began eating again. A few looked my way and gave me a thumbs-up. A woman was leaving, and said thank you quietly as she passed.

  “Clark, tell me you’re not going to that foolish thing at Henry’s again this year,” McCrae said to the man beside me.

  “I am, Sheriff. But don’t worry, we won’t start a fire or shoot any guns off at midnight,” Clark said with a smile.

  McCrae didn’t return the gesture. His radio went off, and I couldn’t make out the unintelligible crackling voice. “Goddamn drugs. I gotta go. Thanks again, Miss Heart. Clark.” He nodded at us and left, heading out to the wet afternoon.

  “You’re amazing,” Clark said instantly.

  “Your lunch is on the diner,” Isabelle came over and whispered in my ear. I wanted to deny her, but she was already gone, filling up another table’s coffees.

  “Really, Clark. Let’s not make a big deal of this. I was doing some investigative stuff and stumbled on her. I’m glad I was there, that’s all. She is a sweet girl,” I said.

  “Maybe it was them,” he said, before biting into his double-stacked sandwich.

  “Who’s them?” I asked, but he had too big a mouthful. I slapped him on the arm, and said, “Clark, you can’t drop a bomb and then bite into the world’s biggest sandwich.”

  A full minute later, he raised a finger and drank a mouthful of coffee. “Sorry. Them. You know. The Grays, or whatever.”

  “Explain,” I said, slurping some soup while he started.

  He lowered his voice and glanced around like a crazy conspiracy theorist. “July sixth, Chester Brown witnesses lights in the sky, the very same day that Mark Fisher and Carly Miller go missing. A week later, Carly is found. Do they know who took her?”

  I shook my head.

  “See. It’s all so clear. They’ve been coming to Cloud Lake, taking people, and for some reason, they spit Carly back. I know, it’s out there, but who knows. Stranger things have happened… maybe.” He kept eating, and I didn’t press him anymore.

  Someone entered, and people turned to the door. I joined them. He spoke in a low, gravelly voice, his farmer’s hat nervously clenched in his gnarled grip. The farmer addressed the diner. “Lake’s closed for those of you thinkin’ of heading there.”

  “How come, Carl?” a woman asked from her seat.

  “Body. They been combing it this week. Found a body,” the old man said.

  July 14th – 2020

  The rain had let up, and Clark had offered me his number, making me promise to be skywatch buddies with him. He was so sweet and still as handsome as I’d remembered. I liked how young I felt around him, as if his very presence plucked a decade from my weary mind.

  The Town Office was only two blocks away, and I decided to walk the short distance. People were out already, the streets becoming busier as the sun emerged from behind the dense clouds. I found the building without issue as I pushed through the glass entrance door, and was greeted by a happy smiling girl at the receptionist’s desk. She couldn’t have been out of high school, but I appreciated the friendly disposition in a world of cranky customer service.

  “Hello, I’m Eva Heart from the Brownstone Beat, and I’d like to speak with the mayor or town council about the Summer Kick-Off for an article. Would someone be available?” I asked.

  “If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll check and be right with you,” she said, her voice calm and professional.

  I did just that and grabbed my phone, deciding to email Harry. I’d meant to call in to the office but didn’t want to talk to Barns right now. Harry would have the scoop on the status of our workplace, and I was curious if word had gotten out that the magazine might be finished. I kept it simple, letting him know the story was going along well, taking longer than anticipated, but that I should be home by next Monday. I also asked just enough about the morale of the office that he’d know what I was digging for. I sent it and sat there, waiting on the comfortable chair.

  The space was dated but inviting. A ten-foot-tall rubber tree was stretched up alongside the window, and I polished one of the leaves between my fingers, seeing if it was indeed real. It was. I liked to sit w
ithout staring at a screen like the rest of the world. It was nice to remember what life was before smart phones and tablets, portable streaming channels and social media. As much as I used all of those things, I still resented them.

  I watched the girl behind the desk as she intercepted phone calls, each time with a bubbly disposition. I imagined she was a cheerleader, captain of the squad, dating the local football hero most likely, but she was starting to have to think about colleges and majors, and there was an underlying tension to her life, an imperfect family. Sunday dinners that ended in arguments more often than hugs. I heard a dog bark outside, and I drew my attention away from the girl. I needed to stop daydreaming like this. I tried to think when that had begun, and suspected I’d been doing it my whole life.

  “Eva Heart?” the girl asked, as if she were a nurse at a doctor’s office with a full waiting room. It was only me in the room with her.

  “That’s me,” I said with a smirk, and followed her past a scattering of offices with closed doors. She waved me inside one that had the name Caroline Fowler in lettering on the glass window, and left.

  “Hello,” the woman behind the desk said. “Please, have a seat.” Caroline was roughly my age, her strawberry-blonde hair sun-bleached, and her fair skin littered with pronounced freckles.

  “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. My assistant in the city was supposed to call for an appointment, but you know how they can be,” I lied, and she nodded absently.

  “You’re here to do a story on Cloud Lake’s Summer Kick-Off party?” She leaned forward, tapping her chin with a pen.

  I nodded. “Sort of. I’m travelling around the Northeast, researching different summer events. You should see the party they had outside Bridgewater, New Hampshire,” I said, not elaborating.

  “What would you like to know?” she asked.

  I set my recording device on the desk and pulled out my tablet, taking notes. “What’s your position here?”