I crinkle my nose. “No, probably not.”
“If you’d like, I can drop it off right now.”
“Yes,” I say too fast again. “If it’s okay with you, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure. I’ll be there in a few.” He hangs up without a good-bye, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I treated him like one of the ten lepers. I vow to apologize when he stops over. Now that I have my wits about me, I can explain—or at least partly explain—my bizarre behavior.
I brush my hair and check my reflection. My eyes are a wee bit puffy from the tears, but it’ll have to do. I hear the Jeep’s engine before it pulls into Gran’s driveway. Wanting privacy, I run down the stairs and am on the porch when he steps out of the Jeep.
Thinking about what happened makes me nervous, but I tell myself that he deserves an apology. It’s not his fault, I’m seeing things.
“Hey,” he says, stopping at the bottom of the steps. He holds out the bag.
I step toward him and take it. “Thanks.”
He nods and turns to walk back to Jeep.
“Wait!” I step down, but it is dark, and I’m still not over what happened. I stay on the safety of the bottom step. Isaac stops but doesn’t move toward me. “I w-w-ant to thank you for this evening. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I had a lovely time. Up until, well, that doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if I acted weird. Dark forests aren’t my thing.”
“I’m the one who’s embarrassed.” He rubs his hand on his neck. “I thought the Jeep would be fine, but I should have run it through once to be on the safe side. Not exactly impressive, is it?”
“What are you talking about? You somehow managed to get that big lug down some very tiny trails, and you drove through mud better than anyone I know, and you single-handedly fixed your Jeep in the middle of the creepy, dark forest with a crazy English girl adding to your headache. If that’s not impressive, I don’t know what is.”
Isaac steps closer to me and gives a slight smile. “When you put it that way…”
“Exactly.”
He pauses before saying, “You sure you’re okay? Don’t take this wrong, but you acted freaked out. I felt so bad. I had to hear it from my mother, my father, and even Ian.”
“Ian?”
“He said if you would have stayed and played Spoons, you would have enjoyed it more.”
I cringe because I know I made a jerk of myself. I contemplate telling him. Instead, I say, “After I saw the deer, I kept thinking there were things out there, so I kept my eyes shut until we got back.” Sighing, I’m resigned when I say, “Too many ghost stories, and I feel pretty dumb.”
“You’re a city girl out of your element. If you were to take me to a big city, I might act the same way.”
I laugh at the visual.
“Well, I’ve got to go, so I’ll see you around. Good night.” He pauses before heading to the Jeep. I want there to be more, for us to make that contact like we did tonight when his arms were around my waist.
I may want to tell him that, but reservation stops me. He’s seen too much of my crazy side tonight; I don’t want to add hapless school girl crush to the list.
When he gets into the Jeep, the moment’s passed, and I realize I’m outside in the dark. I race into the house and slam the door and lock it. I take a deep breath. I glance up the stairs, but I’m still wired. It’s a good time to use Gran’s computer and scanner and check out my pictures. That’ll help me unwind.
First, I run up the stairs and press my ear to Dad’s door. He’s snoring. Of course. He’s been going nonstop since he picked me up from Saint Francis. Once I get downstairs, I turn on one lamp in Gran’s office and start-up the equipment.
As I’m scanning the digital pictures, I minimize the screen and start perusing the Internet. I can only stand to be on Instagram for a few minutes because it makes me miss home more. I click on the History icon out of habit with my own computer and feel as if I unearthed something secretive. Recent websites looked up are ones on tribal curses and Ancient Indian pacts. Now I’m perplexed. Gran writes a newspaper column about gardens and home projects, so I’m drawn to these sites that seem out of place with the other sites on the History list.
“Can’t sleep?”
I whirl around in the chair to see Gran standing in the doorway.
“I can’t either.” She comes to sit down in a recliner next to her bookshelves.
The office is cozy, and eclectic, like Gran, with soft colors contrasting vibrant pictures on the walls. I notice one of mine hanging between bookcases. I took the picture at Christmas with the new camera. It had just snowed, and the sun had shown through the trees onto the iced-over lake. It had been the most serene scene, and I had captured it. “You hung up my picture.”
“Yes, I went and got it enlarged and framed. It’s a beautiful shot. There’s a great photography program at the University of Michigan.”
That is one subject I don’t want to discuss. “I see here on your history list that you were looking up Ancient Indian pacts. Is this a new assignment at the paper?”
Gran furrows her brow, then shrugs. “Well, I guess you’re old enough to know, but I haven’t explained it all to your father yet, so you’ll have to not say anything until I can have that conversation with him. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“A little over forty years ago, Grandpa and I decided to raise our family here. Aunt Sue was on the way, and we were tired of living in a spare apartment in Bay City. So, Grandpa took the meager savings we had and drove us up to where he would spend his summers as a boy. At the time, all of the land around Pigeon Lake was protected under tribal laws. The U.S. government gave certain Chippewa tribes most of the land around the lake to settle some type of tribal disputes. Who knows? What I do know is that your Grandpa made a sound, valid business contract with two of the Indian leaders for three acres of land at the water’s edge. Since then the tribes have been fighting us to get the land back.”
“The contract’s binding, right?”
“Yep. Your Grandpa knew what he was doing. We paid a fair price for the land, most of our savings, and slowly built the house. He took odds and ends jobs fixing things until people in the community were calling him directly to do the jobs. I started substitute teaching until the newspaper hired me, and we were able to take the money and voila. Here’s the result.” She holds out her hands.
“So why look up tribal curses?”
Gran releases a sigh and a little laugh. “Don’t think your old grandmother as a superstitious fool, but the man who is wanting this land back said something about a curse on the land. I know it’s probably scare tactics, but I wanted to find out if there might be any truth to it.”
I think of the girl I saw in the forest, and a chill runs up my spine.
Gran seems to sense that. She watches me closely, “Are you superstitious?”
For some reason, I want to change the subject again. “No, not really. This land is too beautiful to have any curses on it, so that guy’s feeding you a pile of bollocks.” I see that my scanning has been complete for some time. “Want to see some of the pictures I’ve been taking?”
Her smile returns, and it’s as gracious as always. “Of course.” She leans forward and says, “Oh my.”
I laugh. Sister Mary Lucia’s photo turns out perfect. “I have to send this to Alisa.”
“What is the nun doing?”
“She’s praying.”
“Well, I don’t approve of you not praying, but my, look at those nostrils.”
We laugh, and I click through more, mostly of the hike. The pictures aren’t my best work, but I can’t wait to show Dad.
“I will never understand yours and your father’s fascination with insects.”
“It’s a whole other world. These ecosystems have survived and thrived for millions of years. Like this butterfly. She doesn’t need us to exist. It’s almost as if we’re a part of her world not the other way around.”
Gran stif
les a yawn. “I’m sorry, but that’s my cue. The meds are finally kicking in.” She stands up and kisses my forehead. “’Night, Ginnie.”
“Good night.”
“Oh, and Ginnie?”
“Yes?” I glance up from a picture.
“Just…be careful, okay? Maybe not go out into the woods by yourself. That way you won’t get so easily spooked.”
“Got it.” I resist saying that there was no way in Hades that I’d go back into the woods again. At least not without someone else and never in the dark.
She gives a slight wave before leaving the office.
When I turn back to the computer, I think about what Gran just said. That way you won’t get so easily spooked. How does she know I got spooked?
But I can’t dwell on the question for too long because I get distracted by the next picture. It’s a blurry shot. It must have been when I fell. The edges seem defined, but not the center, which is a blob of white, like someone smudged it in the wrong place. That’s when I remember accidentally snapping the shot when the cold wind hit me. Feeling my hair stand on end, I hurry and click to another shot. And I pretend that underneath the blur is not the outline of a person.
10
Today, there will be no hikes.
Today will be a lie-on-the-beach-and-work-on-my-tan kind of day.
I put on my bathing suit and throw on a pretty deep purple swimsuit cover my Mum gave me from the catalogue. I comb out my long hair until it shines, add some product to make it not frizz, then put on my sunglasses.
“You will do just fine,” I say to my reflection in the mirror. If Isaac sees me today, there will be no twigs in my hair and no dirt on my face.
Grabbing my cell phone, my camera, a book, and a beach towel, I head toward the kitchen for a few snacks.
Gran’s outside on the deck that faces the water. I say good morning.
“There she is,” Gran says. “Will you be a dear and make me an English muffin with peanut butter? My energy hasn’t recharged yet.”
“Of course.”
Deciding on one myself, I make two, slather on the peanut butter, and then pour two cups of coffee. Gran likes her black, but I throw in several spoonfuls of sugar and creamer for mine.
Once outside, I notice she already has a coffee.
“That’s okay,” she says. “This one’s all done.”
I sit down next to her and think about last night, wondering if I could pry some more info out of her.
“Oh, I wanted to ask you. You flirting with that Isaac Fulton?”
I’m sipping my coffee at that moment, so of course, when she asks me, I gulp too much of it, coughing violently.
Gran throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, dear! Oh, dear! My sweet Ginnie has a crush.”
I shake my head, but she just laughs and laughs. I cover and say, “There’s a boy back home I like. His name is Leo.” Interesting that it is the first time I’ve thought of him since meeting Isaac.
She pats my arm. “There’s no reason you can’t like two boys. Isaac’s a good one. As good as they come. I didn’t want to pry last night, but I can only hold out for so long. What happened that you were behaving so badly?”
Gran’s word from last night replay in my head. I have a feeling she knows more than she’s saying. “Did something happen in the woods?”
Gran stops smiling and furrows her eyebrows. “What?”
“Do you know anything about the woods? Isaac was joking around yesterday about them being haunted. Then Dad and Mr. Fulton tell some story about a ghost. What’s it all about? You’ve lived here the longest, you should have the inside scoop.”
“I thought you weren’t superstitious?”
“I’m not. Not really. More curious.”
“I’ve lived here for a long time, and I’ve hiked the trails, and there’s nothing in the woods other than God’s beautiful creation.”
“So, no one might have died in there and is now looking for revenge?”
Gran blinks at me in surprise, then starts howling in laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Dad steps outside.
Gran is still chuckling, so I answer, “I’m ever the jokester.”
“Glad to see you’re not as cranky as you were last night.” He pulls up a foldable chair and sits down.
“I was overly tired, and Isaac’s Jeep broke down in the middle of a dark forest. Forgive me that I can’t be eternal sunshine when I’m fearing for my life.”
Gran starts laughing all over again, as does Dad. “Oh no,” he says. “Poor Isaac.”
“Is that why you asked me about someone dying in the woods?” Gran wipes at her eyes.
“Forget I said anything. I’m going to sunbathe.” I stand up to leave. “Oh Dad, I took some interesting photos yesterday from my hike.”
His eyes light up. “Did you collect any specimens?”
“No, I thought I’d wait for you.”
“I have some running around to do, but maybe this afternoon or evening we’ll go explore.”
“Make it afternoon,” I say, already forgetting my vow to not hike today. “Evenings in the forest aren’t my cup of tea.”
“Oh Ginnie,” Gran says. “By the way, in answer to your question, people die everywhere. When I die, it’ll probably be right here. That doesn’t mean I’m going to haunt the place.”
I walk to the lake and situate my towel over a lounge chair. I start to read but set the book down after a few minutes. Too much is on my mind. I study the scene around me. Birds create a chorus in the trees, a soft warm breeze is already blowing, and the sun already beats down without a cloud to suffocate it. In the daylight and out in the open, it seems as if I’m nothing more than a paranoid city girl.
But the problem remains that I can’t discredit what I experienced. And the picture. It shows…something. I glance back up at the deck where Dad and Gran still sit. Maybe I can talk to her later when I have more concrete evidence.
“Are you loony?” I say out loud.
I don’t want concrete evidence! I want to stay away from the woods. At least by myself, and especially at night. But the questions are already sizzling in my head, demanding correct responses. I am, after all, a scientist’s daughter. And when there are questions, that means there need to be logical answers.
I pick up the book to read again. And try not to think. I check my cell phone for messages. There are none.
Before I talk myself out of it, I call Mum. It goes straight to her voicemail.
“Hi, Mum. Was wondering about you. Call me back.”
I stare at the phone and then call Alisa. When she doesn’t answer her cell phone either, I try her house phone.
“’ello, there.” It’s Alisa’s Mum.
“Hi there, is Alisa home?”
“Ginnie? Where’ve you been?”
“In America, but I should be home soon.”
“Well, come stay with us, of course. Alisa isn’t here though. She’s been a busy bee. I’ll have her call you.”
I manage to say good-bye and hang up. As I lay in the sun, I imagine Alisa at parties, having the time of her life. Grant it, I had only been gone for two days. I imagine Leo and wonder if he’s called her back. But I know Alisa would never like him the way I like him. I do still like him, at least I think I do. Then I think of Isaac, and I smile.
So, there’s not total despair. Only a bit of despair.
It doesn’t take long to start to doze, especially with the restless night I had. I sleep until a shadow covers my face, blocking the sun. I peek open my eyes to see Ian standing over me.
“I have a Welcome to America present,” he says, then he walks over to the dock, sits down, and lets his legs dangle in the water.
“A present?” I sit up and stretch. “That was nice of you.”
I get up from the lounger and sit next to him on the dock, placing my feet in the water, too. I can feel the seaweed tickle the bottoms of my feet and decide to sit cross-legged. Ian hands me a large brown g
rocery bag stuffed with items. “It’s a peace offering mostly. Mom said to say it is a Welcome to America present, but it really isn’t. A peace offering is when two or more sides are conflicting, one side makes a peace offering in hopes that the other side will accept.”
“Oh, well, thank you. I didn’t know we were conflicting sides.”
“I was upset at Isaac, then you were upset at Isaac, then Isaac was upset at everyone. Conflicting sides. So I brought a peace offering.”
I smile. His earnestness is refreshing. “You are right about one thing, Ian. I should have stayed and played Spoons.”
“I am right about a lot of things. This was my idea. Not Isaac’s. He wanted to bring it to you, but he had to work. He told me to wait until later, but I snuck out now.”
“Should we let them know you’re here? I don’t want them to worry.”
“No. They’ll know. Isaac only works the morning shift today, so he’ll be home by noon.” Ian grins mischievously but doesn’t make eye contact.
I had slept until past ten, so I check my phone to see the time. “It’s already past noon,” I say. “Maybe we should make that call.”
“Open the bag. It’s a peace offering.”
I set it down between us and open it up. It’s a hodge-podge assortment of food. “Pringles? Nutty bars? A case of Vernor’s Ginger Ale?” Some of the items we have back in England, but not Vernor’s.
“And look,” Ian said, rifling through the bag. “Bazooka Joe bubble gum, and here.” He shoves a big plastic container of chicken at me. “Left-over Kentucky Fried Chicken!”
Ian seems so pleased with himself, that I start to laugh. “This is fantastic! Thank you.”
The dock creaks, and I look over to see Isaac heading to us. My heart slams into my chest at the sight of him.
Isaac says, “Ian, you’re a dead man.”
Ian jumps up. “Not if you can’t catch me.” Ian runs to the edge of the dock, but Isaac is fast. Ian dives into the water with Isaac at his heels. Both guys splash and fight as they come up.
“It’s my peace offering!” Ian yells, before getting dunked again.
Lake of Secrets Page 7
