by Vivien Vale
Tempted as I am to add that, of course, she should only be telling us about the bad man if he exists, I don’t. Making too much of this could potentially do more harm than good.
At the end of the day, Amelia is only four years old. I’m pretty sure most of the time she understands the concept of telling the truth. Trouble is, sometimes a good story may get in the way of the truth.
And there’s a difference between truth and reality—a difference Amelia may not understand yet.
Not to mention her reality may not be my reality. What worries me is that this alleged bad man is simply a tree she mistook for a human being.
It can be easy, if you’re a child with a vivid imagination, to see something that an adult may not see.
But I understand why Boone’s rushed off to investigate. If there is a ‘bad man’ lurking around, it could spell all kinds of danger.
Although I can’t quite see why anyone would be up here in this isolated part of the world if they didn’t belong here.
It’s a magnificent place. Nature at its best, and yet, it’s so isolated, it’s not really a place where you’d expect a bad person to hang out.
With a sigh, I look at Amelia.
Her head’s now drooping, and the spark in her eyes has gone. The smile is replaced with a frown.
“Hey, cupcake, why the sad face?”
She doesn’t answer, only shrugs.
I use my index finger under her chin to push her face upwards so she’s looking at me again.
Now I’m starting to wonder if she made this entire story up about a bad man. It seems far-fetched.
And yet Amelia doesn’t tend to make up stories about bad men. Any story she has made up has been about unicorns, dragons, and flying horses.
“Are you worried?” I need to know how she’s feeling.
Because I’m holding up her face, she drops her gaze.
“Yes,” she whispers.
Her admission almost makes me cry.
What can I do to take her mind off this terrible situation? We don’t have any of her favorite films here, so we can’t use television as a distraction. There are no books to read either, or at least no kid’s books.
“What about a story? Would you like me to tell you a story?” I stroke her hair and lean forward to kiss the top of her head.
“Yes, please.” She beams, and I’m pleased to see some of her old spark return.
“How about—” I start, but she interrupts me.
“Can you tell me a story about dad, please?”
I resist the temptation to groan out loud.
Of all the times to ask for a story about her father, she’d have to ask here and now. What do you call that again? Murphy’s law or something?
“Okay, princess, a story about dad it is.”
With one arm around her shoulder and the other around her waist, we settle down on the couch together. She snuggles right into me, and I see her eager face peer up at me.
She certainly sprung that one on me. I didn’t see it coming, and I certainly am unprepared. There’s no script I can reach for, no book to consult, and no one to turn to for help.
Boone, her actual father, is out looking for some potential imaginary bad man. Actually, apart from Boone, there’s no one else to turn to anyway.
“Once upon a time,” I start and watch Amelia’s smile widen. “There was a lovely young woman with beautiful blonde hair.”
“That’s you, mommy, isn’t it?”
I nod before I put a finger to my lips.
“Shhh,” I whisper. “And this lovely young woman lived happily in her parents’ house until it became time to go and study at college.”
“What did you study, Mommy?”
I chuckle. “If you keep interrupting me, I won’t be able to tell the story.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles, eyes on me.
“She went off to college and studied really hard. She spent many hours and days in the library, reading books and learning. Then one day, she met a young man. He was very handsome and very kind. He was a real-life prince charming.”
“That’s dad, isn’t it?”
“The first time they met was in the library. He normally didn’t go to the library much. His life was divided between studying, attending lectures, playing on the football team, and sometimes even saving people from burning buildings.
“But this time, he came into the library to look for a book. As it happened, the lovely young lady was looking for the same book. Just when she reached for it, so did he. Their eyes met, and she knew he was the one. He told me later he felt the same way.”
Amelia is clapping her hands together.
“Then what happened?”
“Well, let me see,” I pretend to think to stall. What am I going to say? “Prince Charming was very good at saving people, and one day, he saved the lovely young lady from a fire as well.”
“You were in a fire, Mommy?”
Oh…well, fuck.
Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the fire to her.
“I was. But luckily, your—I mean, Prince Charming was there to rescue me.”
As I ponder how to continue my story, Amelia takes my hand.
“Mommy,” she sounds all serious now. “Is Boone my daddy?”
Her words hit their mark. I try not to flinch. Of course I’ve always known children are perceptive, but I didn’t realize how perceptive.
What will I say? She’s opened up the door for me to tell her, and yet I can’t do it.
At least not now. Not without Boone here. If I tell her, he should be here. But I don’t want to lie to her, either.
“Boone is a very good man,” I start to tell her, my eyes drifting to the door, almost willing the man of whom I speak to walk right through it this very second. Alas, no one comes. “He’s strong and caring and kind.”
They are all true words. I’m not sure if I’m going to get away with my limited response or not.
“He’s good at saving people,” Amelia adds, and I almost breathe a sigh of relief. “He saved us.”
“He did, sweetie, he did.” I sit in silence for a while. “And you know what?”
My daughter looks up at me and shakes her head.
“He’ll look after us while we’re here and make sure we’re safe.”
Boone
To say my heart is pounding in my fucking chest would be an understatement. I’ve never felt like this before.
As soon as I heard about this bad man, a bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. And it hasn’t shifted. If anything, it’s increased in intensity.
If someone was out here, they better have a fucking good explanation for being here and for watching my cabin.
Random images come and go as I make my way through the woods, eyes scanning in on the minutest sign.
There’s the fire from which I rescued Margot…the recent news of her seeing a strange man in the doorway just before she passed out, adding something unreal to the past…and now the news of a bad man according to Amelia.
Despite my attempts to connect the dots, I can’t.
Briefly, I return to my father’s phone call. It was also strange. We haven’t spoken in years.
I prefer it that way. I don’t ever go out of my way to contact him, not anymore.
I stop, not because I’m out of breath, but because I need to scan the horizon.
My nostrils flare as I take deep breaths in and out. I smell the wind, trying to pick up on any foreign scent that might clue me in on where to start my search.
Nothing.
I try again.
There. I hold my face slightly northeast and slow my breathing right down. If you really focus on the inhale, you generally can pick up any new scent.
It’s hard to say for sure…but I think I can smell nicotine.
Out of the corner of my eye, something catches my attention. Quickly, I stride to investigate.
At first, I can’t see what grabbed my attention. I lean toward the gre
en bush and closer. It takes another minute or so before I spot the twig snapped off.
I guess anything could be responsible for the damage, but then again…could it? My eyes scan the area a little more carefully.
In situations like this, it pays to be extra vigilant. No point jumping to conclusions or rushing away looking for the next clue and in the process destroying vital evidence.
Carefully, inch by inch, I examine the ground around the bush, looking for indents, markings, or anything out of the ordinary.
Sometimes, I would go back and examine the site of a fire to look for clues. It wasn’t part of my role, but it interested me. On the odd occasion, I would find something the special clean-up crew didn’t.
More than one arsonist has been caught because of the vigilance of one Boone Masters.
I crouch down and pick up some dirt. Thumb and forefinger play with it before I bring it to my nose to breathe it in.
Cigarette ash, I’m sure of it.
Someone who’s been smoking has been past here. And they dropped some ash on the ground. There’s no sign of the cigarette butt, but I can definitely smell ash. It’s not been that long ago, either.
My eyes scan the area more closely.
No footprints.
Strange and interesting.
Whoever has been here did not want to be found or noticed. And yet they smoked a cigarette.
I get on my hands and knees and crawl on all fours along the ground a bit further.
Left, right, straight ahead, and left again. My eyes roam anywhere and everywhere.
Just as I’m about to get back up and keep walking, something else grabs my attention. Something blue is left hanging in one of the very low hanging twigs.
Gingerly, I break off the twig, apologizing to the bush, and then bring it up to my eyes.
Without a magnifying glass it’s difficult to be sure, but I think there’s a tiny bit of blue thread caught on the twig.
It’s probably off a sock or the trousers of the intruder—or the ‘bad man’, as Amelia calls him.
The discovery has my heart racing in my chest.
Obviously, someone was out here.
What were they doing here, and why were they here?
Is Margot in danger? Is the man she saw in her room all those years ago related to this bad man? Are they one and the same?
I put the find in the pocket of my pants and get up.
Looks like the man headed northeast. I follow what may or may not be the path this stranger took.
Of course, these signs might mean fuck all.
It could mean a hunter got lost around here, lit up a cigarette before keeping on going. A possibility, but incredibly unlikely, I decide as soon as I’ve finished the thought.
I may not know why the man is here, but I’d put the family fortune on it he’s appearance does not bode well for me or Margot.
Life sucks, doesn’t it?
Here I’ve finally found my happily ever after, and it’s already threatened by some unknown source for some unknown reason.
Driven by the desire to find answers, I keep going.
On and on I walk—without success. It’s as if any tracks left by anyone have been wiped by some magic giant mop. There are barely any animal tracks, let alone human ones.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
I want to just fucking kick something, but I restrain myself. If I’m too distracted, I won’t be any good to anyone.
To find something or someone, you need to be on your guard. I can’t fucking afford to drop mine.
But then a boulder is in my way. I mean, I could walk around it, but it seems to challenge me. It’s almost begging me to let off steam.
I stop.
I seize it up.
Sure, it’s massive, but I reckon I can do it. And it might just do the trick and help me let off all this pent-up frustration and anger.
Before I grab and shift it, I think of the stranger Margot described and the bad man Amelia has talked about and the minimal tracks I’ve found. And now I’m fuming.
I glance around. No one’s here.
I pummel my own chest with my fists and let out an almighty roar. Then I bend down and warp my arms around the rock.
I heave and heave, and eventually, I feel it lift off the ground. I haven’t lifted it far off the ground, but far enough to let me hurl it to my left. As I let it go, I feel the negativity fly away with the boulder.
It tumbles down the steep embankment, grumbling and growling as it does so, before it hits something in its path with a loud thud.
I stop and take some more deep breaths. I feel better. And I’ve made a decision.
No point going in fucking circles—and it feels like that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
With a deep sigh, I gaze at the highest mountain peak. It stands proud and tall, like a guardian over its domain. If only it could tell me what’s been going on in these woods.
There’s no doubt in my mind something’s going on, and I don’t think it’s any good.
Better get back to the cabin. Time to call it quits for the day.
Just as I’m about to turn and head back to the cabin, I see something else. This time, I practically sprint to what I’ve seen.
Time to get back to Amelia and Margot. I need to tell them urgently. They’ll want to know about my find immediately.
As I sprint, I go back over everything. None of it makes any sense to me. What am I missing?
Later, after I’ve shared my discovery with the woman I love and my daughter, I might need some quiet time to work things out.
The woman I love and my daughter. Fuck, those words sound fantastic.
How long have I longed for this moment? And now it’s here, it seems almost too good to be true.
Was nemesis hiding just around the corner, waiting to strike?
We all know fairy tales aren’t true—at least not for people like me. There’s still all my baggage I haven’t shared with Margot, not to mention this whole damn family thing.
Finally, the cabin comes into sight, and I burst into the living room.
Margot and Amelia are exactly where I left them. Instantly, I can tell they’re on edge.
“Hey, guys.” I’m a little out of breath.
Margot spins toward me, her eyes wide with shock.
“I need you to come right now.” I pant and hold my hand out toward them.
“Why…what…” Margot asks, but I shake my head.
“Time for questions later. Just come with me now. You’ve got to see this.”
Amelia scurries off the lounge and comes toward me. A mixture of anxiety and excitement is in her eyes.
“Jump on board, tiger,” I invite her and crouch down.
Instantly, she scrambles onto my back.
“Let’s go,” I say and lead the way.
I can hear Margot follow hot on my heels.
Margot
I almost trip over my own feet as I try and hurry after Boone and Amelia.
My heart’s beating so fast already, I fear it might explode in my chest any second.
“Boone,” I pant, but he’s ahead of me and talking to Amelia.
What on earth has he found, and where is he leading us?
In my mind, I have an image of a hidden fortress occupied by several men, each of them fitting the description of the bad man.
It’s silly, I know, but what can I say? I’ve got a vivid imagination.
Once my imagination runs away with me, there’s no stopping it.
Of course I know Boone wouldn’t lead us into something dangerous. Therefore, common sense dictates there won’t be a fortress or any bad men.
I sigh.
“Wait, Boone,” I call again, and this time, he turns around.
“No, giddyup! Giddyup!” Amelia yells, and I see she’s holding a branch as riding crop.
Boone grins over his shoulder at me.
“Guess we know who’s calling the shots around here,” he joke
s.
He might say that now, but when he’s carried her for about a hundred miles, he’ll change his mind.
Actually, knowing Boone…two hundred is probably closer to his breaking point.
“Don’t worry. I’m just ‘tending, Mommy,” Amelia pouts.
“It’s pretending, darling,” I correct her and take this break to catch my breath.
She shrugs. “Are we there yet?”
Boone shakes his head.
“Not yet, fearless princess,” Boone winks at me. “You ready to keep going? Explore new paths and conquer newfound kingdoms?”
Amelia giggles.
Wherever Boone’s leading us, it can’t be anywhere dangerous.
Unless, of course…
I don’t finish the thought.
“Are we there yet?” Amelia asks.
Boone laughs.
We keep walking.
“Are we there yet?”
“Amelia—” I start but stop because Boone has stopped. “What?”
He points straight ahead.
“Put me down,” Amelia squeals and starts kicking her legs.
“Manners, please, young lady,” I remind her.
“Put me down, please,” she says, and Boone carefully lowers her to the ground. The minute her feet hit the ground, she’s off.
I watch her run over, Crockett right next to her.
It’s the first time I notice the raccoon. He must have hitched a ride with Amelia atop Boone.
The man really is incredible. Is there anything he can’t do?
“Ladies first,” Boone’s voice rouses me out of my daydreaming.
I smile and walk toward the berry patch.
“I can’t believe you rushed out the door of your cabin to make us come to a berry patch.” I pretend to grumble, but I don’t think I’m really succeeding.
Amelia is sitting in a thick, dense berry patch and madly shoving different color berries into her mouth.
“You have to admit it’s a beautiful sight.”
Boone gets a playful punch for his efforts as I walk past him and squat down to sample some blueberries.
They are the fattest blueberries I’ve ever seen. I put one in my mouth and sigh.
“No good?”
I shake my head. “They are divine. Here, you try one.”
