by Hunter Shea
A few tiny museums rolled by along with a good many greasy spoon diners. Once you got over the picturesque vistas on either side of the road, there wasn’t much else to see. Eve pointed out the differences between Sitka spruce, western hemlock and birch trees, informing them that they could expect to see more white birches as they got further into the interior.
“You’re like an Alaskan savant,” John said.
“Hey, someone has to know what we’re going to be living with the next couple of months. Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Alaska. This is actually one of my dreams come true.”
“I’m glad to see hanging out with me all these years has finally produced a payoff.”
Eve slapped his arm. “Just keep driving, mister.”
True to Eve’s well-researched word, the closer they got to Shida, the more white birches surrounded the road. The sun was bright and beautiful and the sky was just beginning to fill with wispy, alabaster clouds.
“Is that where we have to turn off?” Eve said pointing at the sign fifty yards ahead of them.
It read: VAGABOND ROAD 8 MILES ON LEFT.
“That’s it.” John flipped the map from the visor over to Eve. “I think we’ll be on Vagabond for a few miles, then there’s a couple of others about a mile apiece each. Judas said the conditions of the roads get worse and worse the closer we’ll get, so if our teeth are chattering, we’ll know we’re going the right way.”
“Are we going to be there soon?” Jessica asked.
“I hope.”
“Good. I can’t wait to get to the house and unpack my books and toys.”
With Eve’s guidance, he found the next two roads, tiny clefts hidden amidst an endless sea of trees. He was grateful he had rented a Jeep for the trip. The shocks and tires took a beating as they came to a T in the road. They saw their first house. It was more like a weathered tool shack than an actual abode, but an older man was sitting outside in an aluminum lawn chair giving them the eye. Jessica perked up when she saw the man and waved. He continued to squint at the car as they made a left turn onto a poor excuse for a road.
“Daddy, that man didn’t wave back.”
“He probably couldn’t see you, honey. The way his face was scrunched up, I think he had a hard time even seeing the car,” John joked. Something in his gut said different but he kept it to himself.
Eve pointed excitedly at the written directions John had clipped to the map.
“It says we have another mile to go and the house will be at the end of the road.”
“What’s after the end of the road?” Jessica asked.
“Mother Nature’s front yard,” Eve replied.
The last time John was here he was a passenger in the real estate agent’s station wagon, a virgin to the land. He’d had only the vaguest intimations of a grand plan, concentrating mostly on the fact that he was away from home for the first time in years. So much had changed in just over a month’s time. This time around he felt stronger and surer of himself. Fir Way was the first familiar sight he’d come across on their big trek across two countries and the comfort of even the barely recognizable helped center his confidence.
When he knew they were getting close, he said, “All right everyone, close your eyes.”
He looked in the rearview and saw Liam was asleep.
“Good boy, Liam. That’s the spirit.”
The driveway appeared on their right and John swung the jeep up the gravel path. He stopped the car and cut the engine. The house loomed dead ahead, large, beautiful and vacant.
“Okay, you can open them now.”
Jessica unbuckled herself and leaped up to the open space between the two front seats. “Let me see, let me see,” she chattered excitedly.
“Oh my God,” Eve whispered.
And that was when Jessica screamed like a horde of vampires was bearing down on them all.
The black Camaro peeled out of the driveway, leaving the gas station in a cloud of dust. Muraco Fenton saw his boss’s disapproving fat face in his rear view mirror. Fuck you, dipshit. The gas pumps are all yours, bro. I’m on my time now and if you don’t like the way I drive, you can go fuck a duck.
His job at the Chevron station was probably the end of the line for him in Shida. He’d been fired from every other brain dead job the town had to offer.
He’d worked there for six months now. A record. They’d even let him work on a couple of cars recently, just easy stuff like changing brake pads or a tune up on some old clunker. He’d rebuilt his Camaro mostly with his brother’s help five years ago. But Etu moved away shortly after they were done and Muraco used his absence as his opportunity to brag that he was actually the one who rebuilt the black beauty. People simply assumed he was a gearhead, not just because of the car but also because he was a drop out, trouble making pain in the ass and wasn’t that the one thing that all guys like him were good at?
Imagine his boss’s surprise when he hired him and found out he really didn’t know jack squat about fixing cars. So he’d been relegated to the pumps and cleaning out the bathrooms. It was shitty work but beer wasn’t free, most of the time, and he got a free tank of gas every week.
Then Righteous Riggs, a mechanic who’d worked in the station over ten different name changes, had taken him inside the garage one day and showed him how to change a spark plug. Every week he showed him something new and now he was given a couple of jobs here and there to help the old man out. Anything was better than pumping gas, especially in the rain that never seemed to stop in the spring. Yeah, Righteous Riggs was okay in his book. He told corny jokes and stunk like a wet weasel, but he was cool all the same.
Muraco slammed on the brakes outside Mai Smith’s house and honked the horn. She came out in a pink skirt that was a size too small for her ample hips. He could even see the V of her crotch through the strained material. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore an old black T-shirt that she’d cut down the front so you could see the swell of her breasts and her hot pink demi-cup bra. One thing you could not accuse Mai of was subtlety.
“You look ready steady,” he commented when she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“What?” She looked at him like he’d just asked her for the number of riboflavins in her genetic code.
“Forget it. We’re swinging over to pick up Ahanu.”
“But I thought you were taking me to the movies. Alone!”
He looked her over, taking in her slutty school girl ensemble and shook his head. Was she really that delusional that she thought this was a date? How the hell could she possibly think he’d make her his girlfriend after she’d done him and his entire pack full moon after full moon?
“Guess you thought wrong,” he said and gunned the engine so he couldn’t hear her reply. He flicked the stereo knob and cranked some Metallica up as loud as it could go, shook a cigarette out of the pack and flipped it into his mouth. He offered her one, which she reluctantly took. She jammed it between her bright pink, pouty lips and lit both with the car lighter.
Ahanu was sprawled on the lawn outside his house, apparently asleep. He awoke with a start when the Camaro pulled onto the grass, stopping a few feet from his side.
“Jesus, man, you could have run my ass over,” he muttered as he slipped into the back seat.
“But I didn’t.”
Ahanu rolled his eyes. “What movie are we seeing?” He knew it was useless to debate Muraco’s driving.
“I don’t know, ask Mai-Mai puddin’ pie over there. This was her idea.”
“Yeah, for me and you.”
“Oh Mai, your words are killing me,” Ahanu said.
“I wish,” she said under her breath.
The nearest movie theater was in Nimmo, a town almost identical to Shida, forty miles to the north. A throwback to another era, it only had one screen and showed movies that had been released about six months earlier for a discounted price. If you wanted first run films at twice the price in cookie cutter multiplexes you had to haul ass to F
airbanks or Anchorage.
“Hey, did you hear that someone’s moving in to that big house at the end of Fir Way?” Ahanu asked, no longer interested in the movie.
“They say it’s a white man and his family,” Muraco said as he pushed the car as fast as it could go on the shaded and pitted road.
“Really?” Mai said.
Muraco fixed her with a cold stare. “Yeah, really. Did you hear the part about his family?”
Mai had a thing for white men. Dumb bitch. Always wanting what she couldn’t have. If she thought the grass was so much greener, she should move her ass to California and take up hooking as a full-time profession instead of a no-pay hobby. Then she could have all the white guys she wanted and make some money doing it.
“What would a man with a woman of his own want with you?”
Mai scowled and ground her teeth.
“I don’t see you getting your rocks off with anyone else, asshole. You must keep coming back for a reason.”
Ahanu slumped in the back seat, wanting no part in their altercation. Muraco grew unexpectedly quiet, cutting the wheel hard to make each turn an adventure. Ahanu perked up when he saw the sign for Fir Way.
“Dude, Nimmo is the other way.”
“When I need directions I’ll look at a map.”
“What are you doing?” Mai asked.
“I’m gonna take you to see your white prince. I’m sure once he sees you he’ll sweep you off your feet, dump his wife and take you with him to live in a castle.”
“Stop being a jerk.”
“I can’t help it. I was born this way.”
“Just turn around and let’s go to the movies. This isn’t funny.”
Muraco snorted. “What? I’m only trying to help you. You practically jumped out of your clothes when I said a white man was moving in to the house. I’m sure if I said some wealthy Eskimo just bought it you wouldn’t say shit. You want him so bad, I’m gonna give you to him.”
Tears started to fall down Mai’s cheeks. “You really are an evil bastard.”
When they cut into the driveway, they saw the Jeep and lights on in the house. He slammed the brakes, leaned over and opened her door.
“Go ahead, get your man.”
She pulled the door shut and stared out the front window, holding back sobs.
Muraco glanced at Ahanu. “Help her out.”
Sighing, Ahanu stretched forward to open the door, pushed her seat up and got out.
“You heard what he said. Get out of the car.” There was no conviction in his words, just tired resignation.
“If I get out, how the hell am I supposed to get home?” Mai was glaring at Muraco now.
Now it was his turn to look away. “Not my problem. I got you this far. Go follow your dream.”
She punched him as hard as she could in the arm and quickly exited the car before he could retaliate. Ahanu edged past, avoiding her eyes, and slid into the front seat. The Camaro sped back out of the driveway in reverse.
“You’re a low life, Muraco!” she shouted at the retreating car.
The front door of the house opened and a tall figure stood backlit in the archway. She was going to just run away and hoof it home until she heard slithering in the tall grass beside her. Something darted past the corner of her eye. When she turned her head, it was gone. The rustling of the grass grew louder. It sounded like a whole army of snakes were inching their way to her bare ankles.
Straining her eyes against the dusky depths of the night, she saw the grass part as a dozen unseen shapes inched towards her.
The air suddenly felt filled with static electricity and she stifled a scream.
A puff of air blew against her bare legs, rippling her flesh with goose bumps.
She ran to the safety of the house, moments before the first shadow descended on the now empty space by the Jeep. And in her absence, she missed the eerie sigh of resignation whispered through the grass.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Chapter Eighteen
Jessica peered out the window for the hundredth time that day.
“I think I see one,” she shouted.
“Then you’re in the best place to be, squeak-pip. Why don’t you stop scanning for skunks and help your aunt unpack Liam’s stuff.”
“Ooookaaay,” she said, head hung low, feet dragging up the stairs.
Ever since they had pulled up to the house and spotted a skunk squatting by the front door like a bouncer at a night club, Jessica had been on the alert. Her scream had scared away the skunk and all of the other wildlife within a mile of the house. Liam woke up crying and John and Eve had to carry them both into the house and calm them down. It was a hell of a start to their stay in merry old Alaska.
Six hours later, the house looked like a cyclone hit it with opened boxes everywhere and their worldly possessions laying about, waiting for nooks, shelves and drawers to call home. John told Eve he’d make dinner since she seemed to be caught in a whirlwind of domestic nesting. Thinking ahead while in Anchorage, he had bought several boxes of macaroni and cheese, pasta, a jar of pesto sauce, parmesan cheese and in case all else failed, peanut butter and jelly on crackers. They had plenty of juice for the little kids and a bottle of red wine for the big kids. The macaroni and cheese was just about done, as was the angel hair pasta. All he had to do was mix in the pesto and some cheese and pop the cork on the wine.
“Soup’s on,” he called out. That was followed by the sounds of footsteps overhead as they made their way to the stairs.
“I’m so hungry I could eat a moose,” Eve said. She plopped Liam into his high chair and snapped the little table in tight.
“Nice Alaskan touch.” John said, winking at her.
He brought her a plate of angel hair and wine in a plastic cup.
“I didn’t get to the glasses yet,” he said apologetically. “But that’s okay. This is cheap wine anyway.
“To our new adventure,” he said, raising his cup. “And to having the time of our lives. Thank you Jess, Eve and Liam for coming with me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“To us,” Eve said.
While the women and children dug into their food with abandon, John took in the house around him.
Over thirty-five hundred square feet, the house was made almost entirely of Engelmann spruce logs. The dining room that they were in had a large bay window and doors leading out to the wraparound porch with a view of the magnificent forest that seemed to stretch on to the end of the earth. The kitchen behind them had custom pine cabinets that had been stained and distressed to add a more rustic look to the immaculate interior. Large beams were nestled into the ceiling dry wall. It was like a dream Lincoln log house.
John’s eye was captivated by the stacked-stone, wood burning fireplace in the great room. According to Mary Longfeather, it was made from special stones designed to look like river rock. It stretched to the top of their twenty-foot peaked ceiling and if he had any firewood he’d be there right now playing with fire and soothing the primordial jelly that still germinated in man’s brain.
A multi-purpose loft, complete with skylight, overlooked the great room. The upstairs had a master bedroom and three extra bedrooms. He gave the master bedroom to Eve and Liam, while he and Jessica would take a room across from each other. There were one and a half baths and a finished basement built above the water table. The basement would make a great office.
It really was a beautiful house, decorated to match with the furniture they had rented.
“What kind of wood would you say this is?” John asked, pointing to the table they were dining upon.
“Looks like cherry wood,” Eve answered. The corners of her mouth were green from the pesto sauce. “It’s stunning, isn’t it? You should get one just like it when we get back home. I think it would look great in your dining room.”
“Why don’t we settle in first before we start redecorating my house on the other side of the country?” John laughed.
&
nbsp; Eve looked outside and muttered, “That’s funny.”
“What’s funny?” John asked.
“It’s supposed to be relatively light out all night this time of year, but it looks pretty dark outside.”
John walked over to the window to take a good look. “You’re right, it is pretty dark for a summer night in Alaska.” He craned his neck to spy the tops of the trees that appeared to stretch up into the clouds. “Must be all the trees. They create a kind of natural cave. At least we won’t have to adjust to sleeping when it’s still bright out.”
It definitely was odd the way the house was shrouded in nature-made darkness. That alone could give someone the creeps. He was actually thankful for it. After all, it was supposed to be dark at night.
After dinner, Eve and Jessica cleaned up while John changed Liam’s diaper. Plopping down onto the couch that was about the most comfortable thing he’d ever parked his butt on, John cradled Liam against his chest and the two of them just stared at the empty fireplace. As Liam nodded off, it hit him that yes, this was a marvelous house and they were all excited, but the reason they were here was because of its supernatural past. People had disappeared here. Was it the house or something else? That’s what he was here to find out. He very much doubted that a ghost, spirit, poltergeist, whatever you’d want to call it, could make a person, much less an entire family, vanish without a trace. Maybe it was cabin fever. He never checked the season they had gone missing. Could being cooped up together over a fierce winter have driven one of them insane? Perhaps the father had killed them all, hidden the bodies, then simply walked out into the snow, only to become dinner for the bears and wolves. Or maybe it was the mother. Or one of the kids.
