The Lumberjack

by Erik Martin Willén

  Words echoed in his mind from his past, a past he had kept long hidden. “Can’t let anyone know he survived…drug cartel might strike again…witness…since he can’t testify, there is no need for him to be part of the investigation…we hope your son will get well soon. Good luck. He’s witnessed something so horrific his imagination has taken over. Maybe in time he will forget, and then he’ll be able to live a normal, productive life, but a trauma this big—who knows if he ever can get well? After all, there are no real monsters.”

  It was a bitter Carlos who thought back that night, trying to remember everything, but there were too many bits and pieces missing. Just as he was about to put all the stuff back, he noticed something taped to the ceiling of the toy safe. It was a brown envelope. He carefully removed the envelope and slowly unfolded it, not wanting to ruin the contents; he had no memory whatsoever of placing this in his safe as a child. Maybe he hadn’t.

  Inside were Mexican and American reports from federal agencies. He eyed them carefully; they were barely legible after all this time. There was also a plastic cover with a faded yellow paper inside that had what seemed to be some greaseproof paper covering it. He saw a sticker, and guessed it was the work of a police artist. He guessed right; it was a portrait gathered from the testimony of a five-year-old boy about something that had happened more than half a century ago. He looked at its blank side; nothing there but the sticker, so he turned it over.

  There. There it was.

  The monster stared back at him, triggering more flashing images from hidden memories. Again he looked at image, and he remembered the foul odor that came with it. A long-forgotten event started to unfold in Carlos’s mind. Parts of it made no sense, and he strained as he tried to remember more.

  His wife found Carlos in the basement that morning, sitting there staring at the wall. She approached him, very concerned, and touched him gently on his shoulder. He slowly responded to her call and touch. When he turned towards her, she froze; a cold chill went down her spine when she saw his face. She didn’t understand why, but suddenly she was afraid, very afraid.

  Carlos smiled tiredly at his beloved Anna-Maria, but his eyes were no longer alive. They looked dead, drained of vitality. She peered at the paper he held in his hand. The drawing was made in pencil, very dark, and she could make out some type of nightmarish monster.

  Christina woke up with a hellish headache. She slowly moved around in the gargantuan bed, enjoying every square inch of it, and looked around with sleepy eyes. Got up and hit a button on the wall, and the blinds opened on all the windows. She screamed; yep, Mr. Peeping Tom was right outside the window at the end of his branch, staring at her. “Dammit, I need to have Robert remove that fucking branch,” she muttered. “Maybe the whole damn tree.” She glared at the owl, but it just stared at her, wide-eyed.

  She looked around for something to wear. One of her sheets would do. She wrapped it around herself like a Roman toga, went into the bathroom, and when she was done there, she went down to the kitchen, still clad in her toga.

  She brewed some coffee and made herself a cheese sandwich, then sat down in a comfortable armchair and enjoyed the view in the back of the house. The weather was sunny and clear, the storm finally past. The sun rose on the opposite side of the house, sending its beautiful rays over the valley without causing her any glare. Water glistered from the leaves and needles on the trees outside.

  After finishing her sandwich, she walked barefoot, still wearing her toga and holding her coffee cup, onto the back porch. It smelled fresh and clean outside; birds chirped happily, flitting from tree to tree. It was a very calm, sobering moment, and for the first time in a very long time, Christina felt relaxed. She half-sat and half-lay on a splendid wooden chaise longue. There were matching cushions for all the outside furniture, but they were stored away. It was a bit uncomfortable without the cushions, but she didn’t care. She was relaxed and enjoying her morning coffee—

  —until all hell broke loose as a civilian helicopter with the words Skull Creek Sightseeing & Rescue painted on the side raised itself from the river valley far below and began hovering right in front of her. She dropped her coffee cup, but that wasn’t the worst problem. Her toga blew away due to the wind gust coming from the helicopter, to the pilot’s and crew’s joy; all waved their hands happily at her.

  Cool as day, Christina stood up, and did nothing. Her hair flew horizontally like a dark flag while her beautifully tanned body, highlighted by her wiry muscles, was defiantly exposed. She walked confidently towards the bastards in the helicopter, gave them a mischievous smile, then threw them a kiss with her right hand, her middle finger extended. She then turned around and walked slowly and confident back to her seat, peeled off the sheet that lay glued to the patio doors, and then went into her home…and just as she stepped inside she doorway, she bent somewhat sideways and slapped her right buttock.

  “Showed those bastards. Must be related to the fucking owl.”

  The helicopter took off over the house and turned north. She went into the kitchen and made a fruit drink in the blender, then ate one banana. Later, she went upstairs and got dressed in a pair of blue denim shorts and a torn white T-shirt. She put on socks, sneakers, and a headband, then went back downstairs and got her smart-phone. She checked all the missed calls; mostly from her manager, nothing important. She then hooked up some earplugs, and put on a small waist pouch where she put her phone. She checked the fridge, and there were several bottles with water and some chocolate bars inside. She grabbed one water bottle and a chocolate bar, placing them in the adjacent compartment on her pouch.

  She went outside and used a tree to push against and stretch her leg muscles. This time, she took off in the direction opposite the one she had gone the previous day. She turned on the music and Kiss’s Heaven’s on Fire came on. She increased her speed as the tempo from the song beat faster. She ran for quite a while, very fast but carefully. The ground was still very wet, but she didn’t care if she looked like a dirty troll by the end of the run. She loved working out, especially running; it gave her a sense of freedom.

  She ran up and down the hills, through the forest, taking in the fresh, crisp aroma of the surroundings. She reached a cliff edge and stopped to orient herself; she looked behind her and could see her part of her house, far away. She heard the sound of a helicopter and didn’t think much about it until she saw not one, but two older military-style Bell helicopters flying in formation. They flew very close to her position, and she could see several weather-beaten soldiers wearing black sunglasses onboard. None smiled at her, or returned her friendly wave. They looked too focused, as if they had a purpose. The helicopters soon split up, going in different directions toward the deep forest, and she noticed, in the far distance, more helicopters flying near the tree line.

  Something is definitely up, she thought, and remembered both Frank’s and Robert’s warnings about people getting lost. Again she looked at the house in the distance, and then she began running again, promising herself she would keep to the trail and the river for now. But when she came to the end of the fence line, she looked down, and a bit further below was a nice, calm pool of water. It was part of the river, but Mother Nature had made it a natural swimming pool. Next to it was the fierce river, with its white rapids.

  She half-walked and half-climbed down to the pocket paradise. She loved it, and it lay on her soon-to-be property! What more hidden secrets did this land have in store for her?

  Christina stepped into a small clearing and out onto a flat rock, and she looked down about fifteen feet below into the crystal-clear water. She could see the bottom; it was deep here, but she didn’t dare dive in yet.

  She started her normal morning stretches without a tree this time, but she did find a suitable branch that could take her weight, so she did some pull-ups followed by sit-ups and push-ups. She repeated a few sets until she was exhausted, and her abs and arms could take no more. She was so sweaty, and the water looked just too
inviting, so she hurried down to the water line and dipped her hand in. It was cold, very cold. The thundering roar from the nearby river echoed in her ears. She looked around—a natural habit—before removing her clothes and placing them on a rock. She walked slowly into the water, but when her ankles froze, she stopped, took a deep breath, and dove into the cold pool. Instantly, her body reacted with shock, and she almost screamed out her lungful of air. She pushed on underwater, and when she came up for air, she was almost in the center of the pool. She gasped and breathed heavily from the cold, but slowly her body adjusted to the new environment. She laid on her back in the water, kicking a bit with her legs, then combed her hair back while kicking slowly, floating. Indeed, this was paradise.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw the cutest and most incredible thing she had ever seen in her life, stunning her into immobility. Two small, cuddly little bears sat on the rock, playing with her clothes! When they found her pouch, she remembered her phone; and without thinking, she swam back to the shore and walked up to the little cuties. She kneeled by them and grabbed her pouch—but one of the little critters wasn’t willing to let go. She petted it nicely and it smiled, while making the funniest sounds. Little brother got pissed, though, and shrieked out loud. Christina took out the candy bar and removed the wrapping—

  —and suddenly there was Mother Bear.

  The huge brown bear charged through the forest, letting out a fearsome roar as she attacked, protecting her cubs. Christina froze for a second, but then she dove back into the pool and swam for her life. The bear dashed into the water and took up chase. Christina swam as fast as she could, and when she took a quick peek behind her, her eyes went wide; the enormous bear was right there. She reached the stone on the other edge of the pond and flew up on it, lacerating her knee badly; blood oozed out, and the sharp pain made her scream. She saw the giant’s head right where her feet had been, and without thinking, she started to run downstream on the rocky and unfortunately slippery ground. She fell into the powerful river, helpless. The strong currents played with her like she was a straw, tossing her all over the place. She managed to maneuver herself onto her back, as the bear kept running along the side of the river, keeping pace; but as the river pulled her away faster than it could run, the bear stopped, rose onto its back legs, and roared at her defiantly.

  A mouthful of water reminded Christina that she was facing another danger. She was freezing, and could barely keep her head above water. More than once, she got more water in her mouth than she could handle; she coughed and screamed as much as her strength allowed her. She was crying and beginning to feel helpless as the current got stronger, and facing her were many dangerous, sharp rocks. Some she missed and others her body hit hard, sending more pain through her body while leaving large black-and-blue marks.

  Where’s the fucking log? There’s always a fucking log sticking out into the river in all the movies to save the fucking day! she thought morbidly as she started to give up. But with that thought, a surge of power went through her body. She refused to give up. This was not the way Christina Aurora Dawn was going to end her days!

  The rapids swept her around a bend, and on the other side she saw her salvation; two older teens, a black boy and a white boy, who were playing by the river with a large brown sack of some sort. One of them hurled it into the water, while the other cheered him on. The white boy had a long branch, hitting the surface of the water or the sack, she couldn’t tell.

  There were two surprised faces visible when Christina flew by them screaming for help. She grabbed the branch with her last bit of strength and held it hard. The boys looked at each other, surprised, and then they smiled and laughed at her nakedness and predicament. “Looks like we got ourselves a fuckin’ mermaid here!” the black one said.

  “Come on, hold on to the stick so we can pull you up, lady,” cajoled the white boy.

  They started pulling her in, but when Christina saw the malice in their faces, she kicked away back into the river.

  “Come back here, ho, so we can use our sticks on you, cunt!”

  “Don’t lose the catch of the day, man, I want her first, she’s a pretty li’l bitch!”

  Fucking hillbillies, she thought in disgust as the boys ran along the riverside only a few feet from her, screaming and shouting, neither helping her. Instead, the boy with the long stick hit her hard in the head, opening up a gash over her left eyebrow. When they saw the blood pouring out, they got very excited, and it made them start screaming and shouting even more. When the river pulled Christina back towards the center of the river, one of the boys gave her the bird while the other mooned her.

  Christina couldn’t believe the evil she’d seen in their eyes. The speed of the river left the two boys far behind, and eventually a long turn in the river made them vanish. Christina’s lungs hurt now, like thousands of needles had been stabbed through them every time water was forced into her mouth, but instead of fearing the dangerous river or the boys’ threats, she got mad—and with a new inner strength, she kicked her bruised legs hard, and swam sideways until she finally reached the shoreline. She had lost all feeling in her arms and legs by then; her skin was bluish, and she trembled so hard it made her muscles hurt. After a moment, she vomited up what seemed like gallons of water, and coughed until her throat and lungs hurt. The bag the boys had hurled into the water floated by, so she reached out and grabbed it; and when she lifted it from the water, there came a horrible yowling screech from inside. Exhausted, she crawled to the rocky shore, where she lay on her side, just staring at the sky in disbelief that she had made it; but the yowling from the bag made her sit up. She opened it, and inside found five small kittens. All but one lay still in the bottom, while the fifth stared up at her in horror, and let out saddest cry for help she’d ever heard.

  She lifted the little poor thing up and held it to her chest, while with her other hand she lifted out the rest of the little bodies; but none of them moved. They were dead. Christina started to cry, and her tears poured down as she hid her face in the back of the little kitten who had survived. It stopped screaming but it was still very tense. After a few minutes, the kitten calmed down and rested in her lap, feeling her heart beat. Eventually it meowed, and then actually started purring.

  Christina trembled and cried softly as she placed its tiny brothers and sisters back into the bag. She continued to tremble as she stood up, and slowly she walked towards the forest, not caring about the bear or the boys. She guessed she had gone quite some distance down the river. She looked around, but didn’t recognize anything. In the far distance came the sound of a helicopter. She looked around carefully, up towards the river toward where the evil boys had been, but she didn’t see or hear them. Her nakedness didn’t bother her at first, but soon she decided to use the brown sack with its horrible contents for cover, while still holding the live kitten against her chest. She hurt her naked feet on the stony ground more than once, but by then she had so many bruises and cuts that she didn’t care; she just pressed on, refusing to give up. She was sad, but at least as angry, and it pushed her onward. She took her bearings and guessed where the road might be, and then she walked into the forest; and once in a while she looked backwards and laid out branches on the ground, just in case she had to double back. Suddenly she heard the sound of a vehicle, and through the tree line she could make out a truck driving by on a ridgeline above. She picked up her pace, and again her feet hurt badly, but with the road so close she ignored the pain and hurried on.

  Christina was in shock from the trauma, emotionally as well as physically injured, and she wasn’t thinking clearly when she crawled up onto the road. She thought she recognized the truck as the one she and Frank had taken to get to her house. Another truck passed her when she was in the ditch, and she ran up on the road, waving and screaming—but the truck just kept on driving. That’s when she remembered she was naked, and at the same time she thought about those boys; they might be coming in a truck, too.

 
The shriek of rubber grinding on pavement behind her made her jump. The truck swerved around her, almost driving off the road on the opposite side, but the driver managed to gain control as he hit the brakes again.

  Christina, even more shaken now after having almost gotten hit by a truck, contemplated running back into the woods. The truck had stopped about fifty yards away from her. Having made up her mind, Christina walked slowly forward. A man looked out the driver’s side and shouted to her, “Do you need help, ma’am?” He sounded a bit stressed, yet oddly calm for someone who had barely missed hitting a stranger who had suddenly popped up on the road in front of him.

  His voice was powerful and friendly, and he looked at her shyly. He lowered his head and walked towards her, and as he did, he unbuttoned his typical red plaid lumberjack shirt. He stopped several feet away, turned his head away from her, and reached out with his shirt. She carefully took it and put it on; it reached to below her knees. Still with his back turned, he handed her a cellular phone.

  “Please, ma’am, call a family member or friend.”

  She realized that the gesture was made in an effort for her to feel safe around him. The sun was shining in Christina’s face, and all she really could make out of the man was a large shadow. She looked him over; another giant. He seemed completely bald, but she wasn’t sure. He sounded white with a northern accent, but his arm had a very dark skin tone or tan. When he looked at her, he smiled shyly and pleasantly. Christina was too tired and shaken up to make a phone call, so she handed the phone back wordlessly.

  “What happened to you, miss, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Christina shuddered, “Cute cubs, but a bear attacked. Fell into the river. Couple of boys killing these kittens wanted to rape me.”

  She could hear him dialing someone, and she heard him mentioning the bear attack but nothing about the boys or cats. She was too exhausted to focus on the man’s conversation and decided to ignore whatever the guy was saying, though she knew that wasn’t a good idea. She was just so tired…