by David Haynes
“Jonesy?” Lisa turned to him.
“Yup?” He stuffed the last chunk of bread into his mouth.
Lisa gestured for him to go outside. He frowned.
“Fetch the bucket,” she said. “And then wait outside. She needs a wash and I’m going to put some clothes on her.”
He shrugged again and did as he was told.
When he was finally allowed back in, the girl was dressed in some of Lisa’s clothes. Lisa had lost weight in the last eighteen months and her old clothes were baggy but they dwarfed the girl. She sat at the table, holding a cup of steaming coffee. As he walked over he saw her stiffen, but Lisa put her hand on the girl’s arm.
“I know he looks like a mean old grizzly but he’s okay. Most of the time.”
Jonesy sat down. “What’s your name?” he asked.
Lisa had cleaned the grime from her face but it only highlighted a nasty yellowing bruise along her jawline. Her hair, now it was free from the darkening effects of sweat, was streaked with dirty blonde. Put a stack of textbooks in her arms and she wouldn’t have looked out of place in any college canteen. Maybe even high school.
“She still hasn’t spoken.” Lisa put an end to the painful silence. “Who she is, where she’s from, if she’s with anyone, I’ve asked her all of it. She won’t say a word.”
Jonesy shook his head. “For what it’s worth, I’m Jonesy and the lady who’s been looking after you is Lisa.”
The girl looked at them both and then turned her eyes to the cup in her hands.
“Look, we’ve got to call you something. Better you tell us your name than I make one up for you. Come on, what do you say?”
She didn’t look up.
“How about Cynthia? I had a cousin called Cynthia. She was three hundred and fifty pounds of mean and nasty.” He tilted his head to the side to try and see under her hair, which had fallen across her face. “You like it? The thing about my cousin was...”
“Jonesy,” Lisa interrupted him. “No.”
“What? I was only trying to make conversation. Maybe coax something out of Cynth...”
Lisa shot him a fierce look. He closed his mouth.
“Maybe we should just give you a bit of time, huh?” Lisa said. “You’re probably still feeling like you’ve been run over by a truck.”
Jonesy bit his tongue. From what Lisa had told him and the mark on her face, she looked like she had too.
“How about we wedge that cushion back on the couch and you can take a lie down?” Lisa started. “It’s not much but it’s better than the floor. And we’ll leave the bucket down here too, that way you won’t have to go outside just yet.”
“And then maybe you can tell us where you came from, who you’re with?” Jonesy said. Maybe the girl was frightened, maybe she was still ill and couldn’t speak, but it made him feel uneasy having her in the cabin when he knew nothing about her.
Lisa led her to the couch and draped the fur around her. They hadn’t spoken about children in the last three years. They probably hadn’t had a meaningful discussion about it in five. But he knew Lisa always wanted babies. He doubted they would now but as he watched Lisa cluck around the girl, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how his mom acted around his sister when she was sick.
He also saw their two rifles propped up by the door. They needed to be moved upstairs and out of the way. They had no idea who this girl was and he wasn’t taking any chances.
10
A week passed without the girl speaking. For seven days she stood in a near-catatonic state and stared out of the window. Maybe it was her reflection that interested her so much or maybe it was the trees, but hours would pass and she would stand there, silently observing each and every flake of snow that fell on the forest.
Her staring wasn’t confined to the world outside; there was the fire, the cabin wall, at the plates of food that were pushed in front of her and at Lad. She stared at anything except Lisa or Jonesy. She did everything she could not to look at them. Mostly though, she stood at the window and looked to the forest. And clenched her fists, over and over again.
She ate, she drank and she used the bucket. The bruise on her jaw faded away to nothing leaving a naïve-looking girl who could not have been more than twenty years old.
What Jonesy found difficult to cope with was another person was living in the cabin. She was a stranger of course, but the fact that she had never uttered a single word about who she was kept her a mystery. He didn’t like it. It added to the feeling of vulnerability. It was difficult to discuss anything about her with Lisa because it felt rude to do it while she was around. And she was always around, staring at nothing. Neither of them wanted to leave her alone in the cabin or around the camp, but eventually it became necessary.
“What’re we going to do with her then?” Jonesy asked. They walked up to the cache together, specifically to have this conversation. From here they could see the cabin but were far enough away to be out of earshot.
Lisa shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought by now she might have opened up to me.”
Jonesy nodded. “Me too. It’s...it’s weird.” Weird didn’t seem a strong enough term but it was the best he had. “Do you think she’s a mute?”
Lisa shook her head. “Could be but I gave her my notepad and a pencil the other day and asked her the same questions again. She just stared at them like she always does.”
“She doesn’t like me, that’s for sure,” Jonesy said. “Doesn’t like me going anywhere near her.”
“I wonder why?” Lisa said.
“Ha ha.” He pulled a face at her.
They both looked down at the cabin in silence.
“Well, we’ve got two choices,” Jonesy finally said.
“And they are?”
“Release her back to the wild on her own or we all take a long walk to Big Six.”
Lisa frowned. “She’s not an animal, Jonesy. How long do you think she’ll last on her own?”
“She found her way to us alright,” he said. He knew Lisa was right though. He had no intention of pushing her out the door on her own. She wouldn’t last a day.
She shook her head. “And look at the state of her. She might still be in shock for all we know. Exposure can do strange things to people.” She paused and let out a long ribbon of breath into the freezing air. “There is a third option,” she said.
There had always been the third option but he hadn’t mentioned it.
“She could stay with us until the spring,” Lisa said.
A four-day hike to Big Six sounded like a better option to Jonesy. “You really want to do that?” he asked.
“No,” she replied right away. “I don’t, but the other options aren’t viable. In the first one she dies, in the second we all run that risk.”
“And the third?” he said, pointing at the cache. “Isn’t exactly without risk.”
She closed her eyes. “You said we had more than enough and I trust you about that.” She opened her eyes again. “And we both know how tough that’s been, what it nearly did to us.”
“There is enough, Lisa. For two. For three? I don’t know. You’ve seen how fast the water goes down with one extra mouth.”
“I don’t see there’s any choice. We cut down a little here and there and...”
“Big Six,” he said. “We put enough wood on the sled to make fires, we take enough food to keep us...”
“We wouldn’t make it,” she interrupted. “We’ve never stayed out all night, not even in the summer. Where would we sleep? We’d freeze to death.” She reached out and took his hand. “We don’t need to take that risk.”
He looked into her eyes. They had discussed something like this once before. Stick or twist. Stay or go. A choice was made and their lives had never been the same. Something bad had happened. They had twisted, thrown their cards down and asked the dealer for some better ones. The cards they got weren’t better. They weren’t worse either and that was the rub. Whichever way they chose to
go, the deck was loaded with shit. Sometimes whichever way you turned, left or right, there was a monster waiting in the dark for you.
He felt as if he were letting her down again. As if having to make this decision was somehow his fault.
“I’ll be fine,” she said as if reading his thoughts. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
But he did and always would.
“The first sign of the thaw and we go,” he said.
Lisa nodded, snow sliding from her hood. “The first sign.”
They kissed and made their way down to the cabin.
Lisa grabbed his arm before they stepped onto the porch. “Think she’s looking for him?”
“Husband? Maybe,” he replied. “Yesterday she was there for five hours, just looking out. Even when it was dark and all she could see was her own face, she stayed there.”
“She must be in pieces. I know what I’m like if you’re only half an hour late.”
“There’s no chance anyone’s alive out there now. She must know that.”
“Knowing and accepting are two different things. After what she went through to get here, I dare say she needs more than just physical help.”
“What did she go through?” Jonesy asked. “We don’t know because she won’t tell us.”
“Pretty obvious though. All those bruises? She must’ve fallen down half the mountains in Alaska.”
“I guess.” Jonesy opened the door, his head turned, still looking at Lisa.
“Jonesy?” Lisa’s eyes widened. She nodded inside.
He turned and looked. The skillet was sizzling on the stove with the girl standing beside it. She stirred something, lifted a spoon to her mouth and tasted it before adding more salt. She lifted the coffee pot and poured three cups then took them over to the table where three places had been set.
She smiled at them both. “Would you like some dinner?” she said.
Jonesy felt his jaw go slack. He knew his mouth was open, he could feel his tongue drying out, but he couldn’t say anything.
“It smells wonderful,” said Lisa, pushing past him. “Doesn’t it, Jonesy?” She turned around and closed his mouth with her fingers.
“Sure,” he answered as soon as she let go. “Great.”
He followed Lisa to the table and sat in his usual chair. Lisa was right, it did smell pretty good and his mouth was watering. He took a sip of the coffee. It was perfect.
He raised his eyebrows at Lisa who shrugged back.
“My name’s not Cynthia,” the girl said, carrying two plates over to the table. “It’s Lauren.” She put the food down in front of Lisa and then Jonesy, then walked back to the stove to collect her own plate.
Jonesy looked down. Steam drifted off his plate, carrying with it a smell that reminded him of their diner days. It was hash.
“It’s one of the things I can make,” she said. “My repertoire isn’t great but it was my dad’s favorite. He taught me well.”
Jonesy looked up. Lauren’s plate was half as full as theirs.
“I don’t eat much,” she said. “Dad used to say I ate like a sparrow.”
After living in Alaska for so long, Jonesy could detect a lower forty-eight accent right away. He might have been wrong but he thought it was west coast.
“It looks amazing,” Lisa said.
Jonesy forked the hash into his mouth. It tasted every bit as good as it smelled but he couldn’t enjoy it as much as he wanted to. They were carrying on as if this were a regular day, that the meal was a normal occurrence. It wasn’t. He took another mouthful and then put his fork down.
“Lauren?”
She glanced up at, barely meeting his eyes and then looked away again.
He turned his hands face-up and put them on the table. There were so many questions to ask her. He didn’t know where to start.
“Maybe we should just eat first?” said Lisa. “Before it gets cold, huh?”
He nodded. She was right. Now she was talking, there was plenty of time to ask those questions. He pushed more food into his mouth. It was the best hash he’d ever tasted.
*
The three of them remained around the table after they finished eating. An uncomfortable minute of silence followed as they all waited for someone to start talking. Eventually Jonesy stood up and collected his bottle of bourbon from the cupboard. He brought three glasses over and poured a measure into Lisa’s. Lauren put her hand over the top of the glass and shook her head. He poured himself a good shot and sat back down.
“So, Lauren. How did you get here and where did you come from?” He blurted it out. He could have followed it up with a whole list of other questions but two was enough for now.
Lauren looked at them both in turn before opening her mouth. Her eyes settled on a spot of grease on the table.
“We were hiking,” she started.
The word we wasn’t lost on Jonesy, and he knew Lisa would have picked up on it too.
“The weather, it came in so fast, we didn’t expect it, we weren’t prepared. It was so cold.” She paused.
“Where were you?” Jonesy asked. He wanted to avoid the we question for as long as possible.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “On some trail. I don’t know.”
“Well, where did you set off from?” he asked.
“Some hick town,” she answered, then looked up at them both. “I didn’t mean anything by that, I just meant...well I don’t know what I meant, just that it wasn’t anything like my home town. Big Six it was called. The name struck me as funny. Big Sucks more like.” She half-smiled and then looked down at the table again.
Nobody spoke for a while. It sounded like someone was hurling sacks of gravel at the window as the wind blew snow and ice around outside. The lamp’s flame danced up the walls, making grotesque shadow-puppets of them all.
“Who were you with?” Lisa asked.
Jonesy was pleased she had asked this question.
Lauren lifted her head. “Olin, my husband.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, her lips trembling. “He’s dead,” she added.
Lisa reached over and took her hands. “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Lauren.”
Jonesy opened his mouth to say something but Lisa shot him a look that told him to shut it and say nothing.
Lisa pulled Lauren toward her and allowed her to sob against her for a while. Jonesy knew this was where the conversation, as brief as it had been, was destined to end. At least for tonight.
“You’ll stay with us now,” Lisa said, smoothing Lauren’s hair. “We’ll look after you and in the spring, when the weather improves, we can get you back home.” Lisa looked up at him. “Won’t we, Jonesy?”
He smiled and nodded.
*
The next day, Lisa rigged a sheet from the wall of the cabin. It hung around the couch, creating the notion of privacy. The cabin had been built with a solitary inhabitant in mind, although two could live just as well in the space. Three people was a push, particularly at this time of year. It was not going to be an easy few months.
It had been a very long time since they spent more than just a few minutes in the company of anyone except each other, but Lisa took to it immediately. Whatever reluctance to share Jonesy had expected to see in his wife was unfounded. It made him feel a fresh wave of guilt. She had always been sociable, far more than him, and Lauren’s presence had given her the opportunity to be that person again, to talk about matters other than skinning and butchering caribou.
Jonesy, on the other hand, found it difficult being around Lauren. Not that she had said or done anything to make him uncomfortable but her presence seemed unnatural to him. He and Lisa had chosen to come here, they had made a home and knew enough to make it work. He didn’t feel totally at home in the Alaskan wilderness yet, he wasn’t sure he ever would, but he knew how to survive. Lauren, on the other hand, might have been beamed here directly from the alien mothership for all he knew.
; And that was the other thing. He didn’t know anything about her. Lisa had all but forbidden him from asking her any further questions and that didn’t sit right with him at all. Lisa had manufactured a trust with the girl almost immediately after they began talking. Where that came from, he had no idea. It made him think. Was Lisa so starved of company that the first person she spent a few minutes with became her best buddy?
Two days after Lauren’s first words, Jonesy was alone in the cabin with her for the first time. Lisa had gone to the outhouse. Lauren had not given up looking out of the window and although she spent less time staring into the wild, she still completed her sentry-guard duties with dedication.
He walked to the side of her. “Pretty wild out there, huh?”
Lauren jumped, seemingly coming out of some trance. “Huh?”
Lauren could still not hold eye contact for more than two seconds and with Jonesy it was less than half of that. She glanced over her shoulder, looking for Lisa.
“I went out looking,” he said, nodding at the scene outside. “We figured you weren’t alone and I went out there to try and find him.”
She stared straight ahead.
“I walked along the river, up onto the plateau and down through the forest.” He traced a line through the air to show the route he’d taken. “Not that you know where I’m talking about but we spent all day out there. Lad and me.”
Lad had taken to Lauren in the same way as Lisa. He spent more time in the cabin than he ever had before, lying against her while she rubbed his ears and scratched his belly. Jonesy took some comfort from that. Lad was a good judge of character.
“What happened?” Jonesy asked. “What happened to Olin?”
Lauren didn’t respond but she took a deep breath and released it in one trembling stream.
A few seconds passed. Jonesy started to turn away, knowing he had only made things more uncomfortable for himself.
“We made some bad decisions,” she said.
He stopped, standing exactly where he was.
“I never wanted to come up here in the first place. It was all Olin’s idea. The most adventurous thing we’d ever done before was a three-night camping trip in the Mendocino Forest.” She looked straight at him. “You know it?”
