Stalker

by Dave Dykema

  “What will you give him?” Fred asked.

  “One of her features. Most of those are timeless. Stations can play them as their kickers.”

  “What about the cat one from last week? That was touching.”

  Laura nodded. “Yes. That’s perfect. Her standup is a little too local, but if stations tag out with the fact she’s missing, I think they’ll still air it.”

  She started to make some phone calls.

  *2*

  “Well, here it is.”

  Jerry said the words as he drove up to a small wooden cabin tucked into the woods, isolated a mile or so away from the road. A gravel service road provided access, buried beneath a thick blanket of snow. If there was a foot in East Lansing, there were two feet here.

  The tires cut a fresh path through the powder and to Dan and Melissa everything looked pristine. The sun was just starting to go down, casting magenta and orange shades over the trees that were tall and thick, wonderfully ancient, positioned on steep rolling hills. Heavy clumps of fresh snow weighed down their branches, causing them to sag and hunch like a group of old women. A chimney made of brick jutted out of the roof, and Melissa had warm thoughts about sitting by a fire. Dan wondered if Jerry stole his second home off of a bottle of Log Cabin syrup.

  “It’s beautiful,” Melissa finally said.

  “How did you afford it?” Dan asked more bluntly, knowing full well Melissa was dying to know.

  “I got very lucky. This went up as part of an estate sale. I hate to say it, but I took advantage of a grieving widow. Once you get inside, you’ll see that it needs a lot of work. That kept the price down too.”

  Jerry pulled up to the front door and cut the engine. Dan got a better view of the wood and thought that maybe it was the Log Cabin cabin. It was small and quaint, made from real logs—nothing fabricated—and very welcoming.

  “I didn’t get a chance to winterize it,” Jerry continued. “I was going to come up during Christmas break and hopefully do some skiing. I didn’t expect to be here sooner, or I would have stocked it up.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Melissa said. “We appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”

  Jerry smiled. “I know. Now, let’s get inside and out of this cold, shall we?”

  They stepped into the rustic cabin. Modern appliances had their place—there was a refrigerator, a microwave, and a gas stove. Electric lights illuminated the room. A rotary telephone was mounted on the wall by the kitchen. In one corner a 13” black and white TV set perched, rabbit ears pointing crookedly skyward. The living room had a worn couch. It was Spartan, but certainly functional. Despite the freezing temperature, Melissa felt it had charm.

  “We’ll have to get the supplies tomorrow. It’s too late to go to the store now,” Jerry said. “In a way I’m kind of glad. My eyes are drooping.”

  Dan walked over to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. “Do you have anything to eat here?”

  “Maybe some soup. Not much else.”

  “That would be okay,” Dan said, finding some Campbell’s Chunky Chicken Soup and blowing a thick layer of dust off its lid. “But you’re right: we will have to go shopping tomorrow. There’s nothing else in here.”

  “That soup probably dates back to the previous owner.”

  “It will be fine,” Melissa said, moving into the kitchen and taking the can out of Dan’s hand. “Why don’t you boys get us some wood for the fireplace and I’ll start cooking dinner.”

  *3*

  One can of soup didn’t stretch very far, but if it didn’t satisfy their hunger it still felt good to have something warm in their bellies. The heat from the fireplace warmed their skin, so they were comfortable both inside and out.

  Melissa let out a huge yawn. Jerry, picking up on her cue, stood away from the table and began gathering blankets and pillows from a closet. He walked among them and distributed his booty. “There’s only one bed. You two can take it.”

  “If it’s all right with everyone else, I’d like to just sleep here on the floor by the fire,” Dan said. “I don’t think I have the strength to move to the bedroom.”

  Melissa agreed. “Here is fine. The fire’s nice and warm.”

  Jerry shrugged. “Well, if that’s how you feel…” He walked off towards the doorway a few feet off, but turned back under the doorjamb. “Are you sure?”

  They both nodded, yawning. He saw there was no arguing with them—and selfishly realized he wouldn’t mind the bed for the night. He said his goodnights and turned and entered the bedroom.

  Melissa and Dan, alone for the first time since arriving at Jerry’s apartment, looked at each other and simultaneously let out long sighs. They leaned forward, took each other in their arms, and pressed their foreheads together.

  “It’s been such a long day…” Dan said.

  “We’ve been up for hours…” Melissa offered.

  Each sentence trailed off as they spoke, as if they were either too tired or too confused to go any further.

  After a moment, Dan said, “Can you believe everything that’s happened to us in the last twenty-four hours?”

  Melissa looked at her watch and realized what he was saying. Twenty-four hours ago she hadn’t even gone on the air and broadcast part one of her “New Religions” series yet. At this time yesterday they were leery, but with no concept of what lay ahead for them.

  “If only we could turn back the clock…” she said, sinking her chin against her chest.

  Dan felt for her more at that moment than he ever had before. He hugged her to him, trying his damnedest to protect her from the evils of the world. It was a hopeless effort, but Melissa knew he meant well, and she hugged him back with all her might. They stayed that way for a long time, not speaking and barely moving, just gently rocking back and forth in a loving embrace.

  Five minutes later they were both asleep, entwined in each other’s arms, her head on his chest as the fire dwindled down, the only sounds in the cabin their long, serene breaths and the crackling of wood…

  *4*

  The Reverend Stone was not in a good mood as he stomped off the slush caked on his shoes and pulled open the door to the café. His need to find Dan and Melissa was urgent, yet the going was slow. It was almost as bad as yesterday. One reason was the weather; the other was keeping tethered to Bill Cambridge’s car. He had stroked his crystal several times as he rode and asked Kim to do the same. The journey was so laborious. He wondered why he was being punished.

  “I’m glad we stopped,” Goodall said, entering the restaurant. “I’m starving.”

  “A long drive will do that,” Rogers responded, “and we’ve still got a long way to go.”

  “This is the first restaurant I’ve seen in a while,” Cambridge said.

  Stone frowned, irritated by their insipid banter. At times he looked upon his followers with contempt even while professing his love for them.

  “Find us a table, Kim,” he barked, and marched off to the men’s room.

  When he returned his demeanor didn’t improve. He complained about being too close to the smoking section, he complained about the drone of the TV behind the counter, and he complained about the poor quality of the food. The men ignored him and kept plucking away. It had been a long time since they last ate. They arose at the crack of dawn expecting to get an early jump, but had to dig their cars out using a shovel that was leaning against the hotel before they could leave. While they worked Stone paced idly back and forth, imploring them to hurry.

  All day Stone felt haunted by inner demons. Now, listening to the men chew their food, he found himself haunted by Melissa’s voice.

  My prey is in my head, taunting me, Stone thought, accepting it as another of his demons to deal with. But as he continued to hear her, he put his hands to his ears, trying to ward her off. Where is she coming from? Am I that weak to give into her? He felt nauseous.

  “A hunter?”

  Stone looked up, not really aware of what t
he waitress just said.

  “Are you a hunter? I came over to offer you more coffee and saw the knife.”

  Stone followed her gaze and saw that his coat was open, revealing the knife strapped to his belt in its sheath. He was careless to have it out in the open. What would she say if she saw the gun in the trunk of the car? He thought he was going mad, and then to have to try and explain to the gum-popping waitress was just too much. He lifted his head to crucify her, to give her the worst thrashing of her sorry life, when suddenly all of the hatred directed at the waitress diminished and found itself a new target. Over the waitress’s shoulder Stone could see the TV behind the counter that regulars saddled up to like a bar and ate their ham and eggs.

  “Turn that up!” he shouted, pointing at the screen. “Turn that up!”

  The flustered waitress waffled for a moment. But looking down into Stone’s eyes and seeing how serious he was, she quickly regained her composure and yelled for the guy behind the counter to turn it up.

  With this the men at the table stopped eating so heartily as their forks fell into their eggs and syrup. The volume on the TV set rose several decibels and could be plainly heard throughout the diner. The voice coming from it was unmistakable. And when Kim, her back to the set, whispered a stunned “Melissa…”, her identity was confirmed.

  On screen two kittens were wrapped around each other, battling for the best position to paw at a ball of yarn. Melissa’s narrative informed the viewers that these tough little kitties survived the fire due to their mother’s heroic action of rushing into the building while it was still ablaze and pulling her brood out before the roof caved in. A soundbite from a firefighter claimed the mother cat performed the most heroic act of bravery he had ever seen in his twenty years in the department. A picture of the acclaimed heroine came up next, her face red with burns. She was perched in the arms of a woman, and as the camera pulled back blue eyes filled with concern and compassion urged viewers to adopt the kittens by calling the Humane Society.

  As Melissa’s face appeared on screen Stone felt Kim’s nails dig into his forearm, but he ignored the pain.

  The story ended then, and the local anchor from WWTV in Cadillac, Michigan came on, tagging the story. A graphic of Melissa Van Dyke was over one of her shoulders with the cutline “Missing” beneath her picture.

  “One postscript to the tale of the brave cats is the story involving the reporter who brought you their story. WKBC reporter Melissa Van Dyke has been missing from work for two days now. It is feared a man wanted for a double murder in Ohio might have abducted her. If you’ve seen her, police are asking you to contact them.”

  A full screen graphic with a toll free number popped up as the anchor read the information. When she reappeared on screen she turned to her weatherman, raised an eyebrow provocatively and quipped, “I wouldn’t want to be lost in this storm…”

  The weatherman started to answer her with witty banter of his own, but Stone turned away, having seen enough.

  “That’s odd,” Caris commented, still hovering by their table. “I swear I saw that woman just yesterday.”

  Of course you did, Stone thought. You and a dozen other viewers… “I’d like the check please.”

  He looked up at her with a forced smile, trying to egg her on, but she would have none of that. “No! Seriously!” she said, her eyes pleading with Reverend Stone to believe her. “She was in here with two men. She didn’t look like she was in any danger or afraid of them.”

  Caris’s mention of two men perked up Stone’s ears. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Well, she was gettin’ kind of cozy with one of them, and I asked her if they were lovebirds.” She lowered her eyes, as if she were ashamed. “I know it’s not my place to be askin’ folks all about their business, but we was simply just havin’ fun, makin’ conversation. The man said yes while the girl looked at me kinda dewy-eyed. For a time they reminded me of how things were with my first husband, before he became a fat-assed skirt chaser.”

  Stone’s inner demons had completely shut up with this news, yelping and hiding like scared puppies. It was too good to be true. They had been this way, confirming his theory of where they were going. Still, he wanted a little more corroboration.

  “Can you describe who she was with?”

  Caris looked at Stone with a questioning look of her own, as if wondering why he was so curious. “Are you the law or somethin’?”

  “You could say that,” Stone replied.

  Caris took that as being good enough. She was more interested in gossiping than anything else, really. This would give her enough ammunition to finish out her shift with ease.

  “Well the guy she was with was pretty good lookin’, although he was a bit bruised around the edges. He was young, late twenties.” She put a finger to her lips and looked upward, as if trying to access the information directly. “The other guy was a bit older, but not much. He was very polite. I remember he made an effort to pronounce my name right.”

  Sounds like Dan Freeman and Jerry Stevens. The inner demons had gone from yelping and hiding behind his leg to crawling deep down into their home, scratching at the walls, trying to recede farther.

  “That’s amazing,” Stone said, smiling at Caris, this time with real feeling instead of a performance. “Are you going to call that number and tell the police you saw her?”

  “That one that was on the screen? I didn’t write it down. Besides, those are never up long enough to write ’em down even if you wanted to. No, I’ll let the lovebirds be. I’ll bet you they came up here to elope.”

  “I hope so,” Stone lied.

  Caris placed their check in front of Stone. “That would be so romantic,” she sighed. Then, composing herself and coming down from her cloud: “Thank you and have a good day.”

  “Oh, we will. We will have a good day indeed.”

  *5*

  The trio at Jerry’s wilderness cabin woke up much later than Stone and his team. In fact in was past noon when Melissa first stirred and blinked her eyes against the incoming sunlight. Exhaustion had simply taken its toll on all of them—in Jerry’s case the adrenaline rush—and their bodies needed the chance to recuperate.

  “What time is it?” Melissa asked rhetorically as she arose, snapping her mouth open and closed like a sea turtle, tasting her morning breath and wincing.

  No one was awake to answer her, so she wrestled with her left sleeve and looked at her watch. She was surprised to see 12:07, but not shocked.

  She gently pulled her blanket aside, not wanting to wake Dan. She stood up, stretched, and then padded around the hardwood floors in her socks, going to the kitchen to find something to eat. She was bummed to find that what Jerry had said was true: the soup was all he had. Dismayed, she spun away from the cupboard and gazed about the room, wondering what she should do next. She wasn’t alone for long.

  Jerry stumbled in wrapped up in a checkered quilt pulled up to his chin. It scratched against his morning stubble as he moved. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” asked Mel.

  He shook his head no.

  “I was puttering around the kitchen, looking for some food. I’m afraid there isn’t any.”

  “That’s okay. I’m going to head into town soon and get supplies. Is there anything that you want or need?”

  Melissa tasted her chops again and said, “I wouldn’t mind a toothbrush, some deodorant…stuff like that. If we’re going to be here some time I could use…uh…some underwear…”

  Jerry was tickled as she blushed. “What do you want to eat?”

  She rattled off a list of canned goods. Dan stirred as they talked. It didn’t take long for him to join them.

  “Can we do some chores while you’re gone?” he asked.

  Jerry scratched his head and thought a bit. “Well, we’ll probably need some more wood…”

  “Done!” Dan chimed in.

  “And I can tidy up in here while Dan’s doi
ng that,” Melissa added.

  Jerry smiled. “Okay then. That’s settled.” He started to shuffle back to his bedroom, then turned. “Gee, I should have brought you two out here weeks ago. You make great hired help.”

  “That’s right,” Dan deadpanned. “We work for food.”

  *6*

  Dan came back to the cabin carrying an armful of firewood, stomping his feet at the doorway to knock off the snow. He entered and crossed to the fireplace stand where he unloaded his stockpile, taking a brief moment to stack it neatly. The flames from yesterday’s wood were dying, so he selected a few logs from his pile and placed them in with the others, where the fire licked and lapped at the new additions, setting them ablaze.

  Melissa was in a corner of the room, her back to him, dusting a bookshelf. He came up and hugged her from behind. She leapt about a thousand miles into the air.

  “Get those ice cubes off me!” she protested, slapping his hands away from her stomach. She spun around and glared at him, but couldn’t get angry. He was laughing boyishly, ashamed by what he had done—but also finding it very amusing.

  She was charmed.

  “I’m sorry,” Dan managed between giggles. “I didn’t think they’d be so cold.”

  “Didn’t think they’d be cold? What have you been doing for the last fifteen minutes?”

  “Working like a troll out there cutting firewood, freezing my ass off. Meanwhile, you and Jerry get the cushy jobs: driving into town in a heated car, and staying inside, tidying up.” He was poking his fingers into her ribcage playfully as he said this, egging her on.

  “Cushy job?” she asked incredulously. “You should have seen this place. The dust had dust!”

  “Jerry always was a slob…” he said, and laughed again. It felt so good to be laughing.