Something in the Dark

by Pamela Cowan

  "Maybe you’d better go home and get some rest. I can see you’re really stressed. I want you to take the rest of the day off.”

  "I can't. I need the hours."

  "Well then, how about you go home for just awhile. Come back late this afternoon and finish planting those bulb pots that Will started this morning."

  At mention of his name Bunny wrinkled her nose and looked on the verge of another round of tears. Austin went behind the counter to retrieve Bunny’s purse. Handing it to her, Austin hustled her to the door. Go on. Go home. Do I need to drive you?"

  Bunny shook her head, took her purse and reached inside for a tissue. She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, looked at her watch, and with a trembling smile said, "I can drive myself."

  Austin watched as Bunny, stiff-backed, head held high and hips swaying provocatively, made her way to the far side of the parking lot and got into her little red Jetta.

  After a short time Muncie and Will returned to the store and Austin looked up from the inventory sheet she'd been working on.

  "Well, what did you find?" she asked, directing her question to Muncie.

  "He wasn't lying. It was only two plants. Real nice ones though."

  "Did you destroy them?"

  "Well, we de-leafed them, chopped them into little pieces and we fully intend to burn them."

  Austin cocked one eyebrow and said, "Please, don't tell me more. No, wait–you," she looked at Will. "What the hell were you thinking? Bunny told me what you were fighting about. I know your personal life is not my business, but you keep trying to make it mine."

  "It was stupid, I know,” Will explained. “We were here late one night; one thing led to another. . .it was just a one-night-stand. No different than what she's done with just about every– "

  "Don't. Don't say it. It takes two and she wasn't alone in this. Just be damn glad she isn't pregnant."

  "Oh man, you can believe it," he said.

  "What a mess. I just hope you learned something. She's coming back later tonight, to make up some of her hours. So make sure you don't stay late tonight. I don't want you two alone together, at least for a while. Got it?"

  "Yes."

  "Good,” Austin said.

  Later that afternoon, right before closing, the phone rang.

  "Austin," Bunny said in a hoarse whisper that Austin thought was almost certainly faked, "I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm coming down with something. Do you mind if I don't come in tonight?"

  "No, that's all right," Austin said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. "Call tomorrow if you aren't going to make it in."

  "OK."

  So much for needing hours, thought Austin. Unfortunately. both Muncie and Will had gone home. Austin let out the sigh she'd been suppressing. She might as well get out there and get to work. Not like she had anywhere better to be.

  She'd chickened out on calling Blake. She'd been hoping her friend Janice would stop by and prod her into it. Then she'd remembered that Janice didn't own a business–she had a life. She may have even spent the day doing something fun, like Christmas shopping.

  Thinking about Christmas and what gifts she might buy for the people she cared about, Austin shut down the store, took her coat and keys, and headed out back. The way was well-lit and she was grateful. A frosty wind was blowing, pushing a bank of dark clouds ahead of it. She would finish potting up the bulbs so they'd have plenty of color spots to sell in early spring. She loved those first blooms the most. Crocus blossoms pushing through the snow was one of her favorite sights.

  Here she was thinking about spring, and winter was just arriving. It was going to be a cold one, too. According to one of her customers, you could tell because the caterpillars were wearing heavy coats this year. They were clever things, those caterpillars.

  Austin lifted out the wooden bar that held the door shut, leaned it against the wall, then stepped inside and pulled the chain that turned on the single bulb hanging from the ceiling. She shut the door behind her, cutting off the chill and blustery wind, tossed her coat on top of a stack of trays, and pulled on a pair of gloves.

  The shed was ten feet wide and twelve deep. A heap of Austin’s own special mix of potting soil took up most of the space, along with stacked bags of peat moss, perlite and compost.

  A waist-high table stood along the back wall, a fist-sized hole in its surface opening to a wheeled recovery bin underneath. Below the table, on both sides of the bin, shelves held an assortment of sterile clay pots. Open bags of crocus, tulips, daffodils, and other spring flowering bulbs sat on the table, along with an assortment of hand trowels, stakes, and tags. Austin bent over, slid a stack of pots off a shelf and put them on the table. Should have a radio in here, she thought idly.

  She began to hum to herself and was contentedly filling the pots with soil and arranging the bulbs in artistic patterns when the light went out.

  Chapter 6

  Darkness.

  Austin froze in place. Bulb burned out–that’s all. The door is behind you, she reminded herself. There is nothing to be afraid of. You are a big girl and you are not afraid of the dark. Even as she said it she could feel the beginning of panic, the sense of weight pressing down, cutting off her breath. She took a step back, then turned slowly. Holding her hands out in front of her, eyes wide open, but unable to see anything, she took one hesitant step.

  Step by careful step, she made her way to the door. Her fingertips touched rough cut lumber. She pushed, and there was enough give to let her know she had found the door and not a wall, but the door did not open. She pushed again. Again the door swayed slightly and then came up hard against some obstruction.

  “Hey, is anyone out there?” she called.

  Nothing but silence answered her. She found the door latch and shook it hard.

  “Hello?”

  Again there was no answer, and no light, not even from under the door. What had happened to the yard lights? Why wouldn’t the door open? She hit the door with her fists. She screamed, the eerie sound echoing around her, pushing her fear to an even higher level. She tried to scream again but found she didn’t have enough air. A weight was pressing down on her chest, constricting her lungs so she couldn’t fill them. She hammered on the door.

  Then, between the echoes of her pounding fists she thought—yes she could hear it, something was in here— something—she gasped for air. She felt dizzy. Red and yellow sparks of light swam in front of her eyes. She began to sway and then she was falling, not in a graceful swoon, but in a dead faint, crashing hard onto the wooden floor.

  She woke to the feeling of someone’s hands on her upper arms, fingers tight enough to bruise. Her eyes flew open. Light. The world swam dizzily for a moment and then settled and the face above her, a confusion of dark and light angles, resolved itself.

  “Muncie?”

  “Are you OK?”

  “I was locked in. It was dark.” She could hear herself practically blubbering but she couldn’t stop herself. It didn’t matter. To Muncie, what she’d said was explanation enough.

  He had pulled her out of the shed and into the yard and there was light, light from the yard lights, light from the shed. He was kneeling beside her. Gently he pulled her into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She started crying.

  “Shhh. It’s OK.”

  “This wasn’t some stupid joke, was it? You weren’t pulling a prank? No, never mind. Of course not, you wouldn’t do that.” Austin corrected herself.

  “But someone sure as hell did,” Muncie said. Think about it, Austin. Who would do this to you?”

  “I don’t know,” Austin said, shaking her head.

  “Well I’m sure as hell going to find out. For now though let’s just get you home. I think your elbow’s bleeding.” As soon as he mentioned it, Austin felt a stinging in her elbow.

  “It feels like I skinned it. Or maybe I scratched it on a nail. Oh Muncie, I am so sick of this. Do you think I’ll ever outgrow it?”r />
  Muncie didn’t answer. Austin got to her feet and found a new ache, this time in her hip.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’d better follow you home.”

  “You don’t have– ”

  “I’m going to follow you home. You wouldn’t be like this. . . ”

  “Don’t,” Austin insisted. “Don’t talk like that. Just follow me home. I’ll be grateful if you’d do that.”

  Muncie nodded and said nothing more.

  Chapter 7

  Saturday dawned bright and cold, and business was brisk. Austin couldn’t keep the nursery open seven days a week, so had opted to close on Sundays and Mondays. That way, customers with “normal” weekends off could come in on Saturday and on Monday she could do her banking and other errands. Of course it was rare that she actually took the days off. Most Mondays found her trying to catch up or finish some project.

  Paco and Justin stopped by the nursery several times throughout the day to pick up loads of bark and decorative rock for their lawn care customers. To Austin it seemed like everyone in town was a little frantic, all aware that the first big snow could hit at any time. Or maybe what she was sensing wasn’t their agitation but a leftover from her panic attack.

  Refusing to dwell on the incident, Austin shifted her thoughts to a more current issue. She was determined to keep everyone off the unemployment rolls as long as she could.

  “How would you feel about operating a snow plow?” she had asked Paco back in August. He had liked the idea.

  “Last winter the county hired me to haul snow from the streets,” he said. “They have not enough people for this job. They have a crane that picks up the snow and puts it in the truck, then I drive to the river and shovel it out. I made many trips. If the winter is bad and the county cannot keep up with the snow this year, maybe they will hire us. Maybe the big businesses will hire us too. They need their parking lots open so the customers will come.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Austin said, growing more enthusiastic about the idea. “Some days we can do residential driveways, and other days commercial parking lots. Maybe we won’t get rich, but at least I won’t have to keep stretching nine or ten months of work to cover 12 months of bills.”

  Just as she was replaying that conversation, Paco walked in. Austin reminded him of the snowplow idea and asked if he still thought she should go ahead.

  “A wonderful idea,” he enthused.

  “That’s it then. Monday I’ll talk to the bank about a loan for the plow.”

  “Well, only if you are not too busy with the other things.”

  “What other things?”

  “That man, he come looking for you. Saw the truck and asked for where you are. You are going to have dinner with him soon, I think.”

  “Ha, you think so, do you?”

  “Yes, it is known how you like the cowboys.”

  “Paco, I am so sorry, but that has cost you another raise.”

  “Ha ha, you are making me to laugh. A raise. Ha ha.”

  When Austin got home that evening, she didn’t even take off her jacket before picking up the phone. She had spent the entire drive home talking herself into making the call. She wasn’t going to take the chance she’d change her mind if she stopped her momentum. She dialed the number she’d scribbled on the cover of her phone book earlier.

  “Hi, this is Blake,” she heard, as his voice mail system picked up. She almost hung up, but the message was short and she was caught by the beep. She had to talk now, or leave one of those awful dead air messages and her phone number trapped in his caller ID.

  “Hi, It’s Austin,” she mumbled. “I was just. . .

  There was a screech in her ear and then his voice.

  “Austin. Sorry. I was just walking in the door and heard your voice.”

  “Oh,” she mumbled. “I was just . . . well I . . .”

  “I’ve been out looking at property for two straight days,” he said, rescuing her. That real estate woman must have dragged me to every corner of the valley, and around back of every mountain. For such a small town this sure is a big area.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Austin. “The town may be small, but the county is huge.”

  “Well it’s making the options a lot tougher than I expected, and my need for some good advice even more important. I sure would appreciate it if I could get some of that advice from you. I’d be willing to pay with dinner? Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow, or Monday if that would be better.”

  “Tomorrow is great. How about you meet me at that steak house on Main Street.”

  “Sam’s Grill?” she asked.

  “Yes, that’s the one. What time?”

  “Oh, I don’t care. Six too late?”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you there at six.”

  “Fine.”

  Austin hung up and took a deep breath. She hadn’t been on a date in several months. Well, it was done now so no use worrying about it, at least until Sunday. Sunday! Oh no. She suddenly remembered that she had promised Janice they’d go canoeing on Sunday. Janice had been bugging her to get one last trip down Broken River in before snowfall.

  Well, maybe if Janice agreed to get an early start she could fit both in, she reasoned. Days off were too rare to waste and besides, if she stayed home all day she’d be a total wreck by dinner time.

  Shrugging out of her jacket, Austin picked up the phone again. Not only would Janice understand about leaving early, she was certain she could count on Janice to keep her from changing her mind about meeting Blake for dinner, a thought that had crossed her mind half a dozen times in the last five minutes alone.

  On Sunday morning Austin got up and dressed in waterproof boots, jeans, a sheepskin lined jacket and a bright orange hunter’s cap. The county was home to a great many hunters who, if they weren’t hunting, were practicing. Janice had taught her that it was a good idea to not look too much like wildlife.

  At the sound of her friend’s car pulling into the driveway, Austin hurried out. The canoe was tied to the roof of Janice’s compact. Austin had to smile at how strange it looked, prow and stern hanging far past the front and rear bumpers.

  Austin tossed her backpack into the back seat and slid into the passenger seat, eager to bring Janice up to date on her phone call with Blake. Janice, a diminutive, natural red head with a sprinkling of freckles and flashing green eyes gave Austin a wide smile.

  “Well, are you ready to shoot the rapids?” she asked.

  “I’m ready to paddle gently across a mirror-still pond if that’s what you’re asking,” Austin answered

  “Exactly what I meant.”

  “Good.”

  “However, you’re not getting off so easy on this guy. I want to hear all about him, and I want it in graphic detail,” demanded Janice.

  “We haven’t even gone out yet. How much graphic detail could there be?”

  “I packed beer and, in case it’s real nasty, a pint of brandy. Somewhere in there we should be able to find some kind of detail, even if we have to invent it.”

  Austin agreed, as she usually did, with Janice’s innate wisdom.

  Chapter 8

  It took Austin no more than an hour to prepare for her date. Considering she’d returned from her canoe trip with blistered hands, wind-burned skin, and a slight beer buzz, she thought she was doing pretty well.

  By the time she climbed into her pickup she had changed into white jeans, a black turtleneck, and dangerously high-heeled black boots. She left her hair down for a change, brushing it until it gleamed like burnished mahogany, and instead of the usual minimal eyeliner and lip gloss, she had gone the whole way by smoothing on foundation, and adding blush and eye shadow to her routine.

  She had to admit she didn’t look half bad. A few drops of her favorite cologne and she was ready.

  She continued to feel good about herself, and about the date, until she reached the restaurant. Seeing the
cars in the parking lot, knowing people would see her out with Blake, made her incredibly self-conscious. Her stomach fluttered as she climbed out of the truck and slid the keys into her slender black purse. This is silly, she told herself. Then she took a deep, wavering breath, squared her shoulders and walked into the restaurant.

  Blake was already there, waiting for her. That was nice. It would have been harder to sit and wait, the fear that he might not show up, gnawing at her self-esteem.

  He looked good, she thought. He stood to pull out her chair. She realized she was doing a precarious emotional balancing act. She was torn between being ridiculously close to bolting for the door and safety, or forgetting dinner entirely and inviting him to her house for the night; which would at least provide some of those details Janet was so eager to hear about.

  The waiter helped her past the awkward moment by asking what they’d like to drink. She turned her attention gratefully to the wine list, embarrassed at how quickly her mind had taken her and Blake to her house, her bedroom, her bed. It had been a long time since she’d invited anyone into her bed. She’d almost decided she was fine with the way things were: celibate, but too busy to dwell on the fact. Now she realized how lonely she’d been, an almost desperate loneliness. That bothered her. There was nothing attractive or sexy about desperation. A sure way to ruin a relationship was to act as needy as she suddenly felt.

  She ordered a glass of white wine and forced herself to appear relaxed and confident. It was a fine bit of acting, and she thought she was carrying it off well.

  Blake began the conversation by asking about different parts of the county. Did she know of any problems with water? Austin found it was easy to slip into her business side, where she spent most of her time, and out of her romantic side, where she was basically a stranger.

  Talk of growing seasons and planting led to talking about the nursery and the landscaping business, but as the evening went on, and the lights dimmed, the conversation shifted. It was subtle at first, talk about work and then about goals and values. Soon they were deep in discussion about their shared hope of owning land, staying in one place, putting down roots. He spoke of his wish for a large family, of children and grandchildren who would stay and work the same land. She talked about moving too much as a child and wanting a real home, a place worth defending.