by Isa Hunt
As I walked down the street I saw houses lit from within, soft yellow light bleeding out into the cold night air. Sometimes I could catch a glimpse of the people in the houses. Families sitting down to dinner, or gathered in front of the television looking warm and happy.
I turned off Main Street and down a small side street. If the quaint little town had a “bad” section, this would be it. But it was limited to this one small street. There were a crappy dive bar and a Chinese take-out joint and a few houses split into apartments.
I walked past the bar and the takeout joint and kept walking towards the empty building at the end of the alley. I had once been an office building, but it had been abandoned a long time ago.
Glancing behind me to make sure the way was clear I hopped over the fence and landed on the hard bare earth on the other side of the building. There was an old sign over the door, the decayed words reading, McPoyle, Reynolds, LLC. It had been a law firm, but the owners had skipped town a few years ago, leaving the building to ruin.
There was a loose window in the back and using my hands, I jimmied the window open and climbed through. I had discovered this place my first week in town. The window opened to a small office suite. There was a small room that had once been a reception area, a private bathroom and an office. The good news was this little suite was separate from the rest of the building, so I felt safe and secure once I locked the window behind me. I left the door to the rest of the building locked with a chair jammed underneath the doorknob as an extra precaution measure.
I had turned the office suite into a kind of home. Opening the door from reception I moved into the office, which was now my bedroom. There were candles everywhere. I lit one and then moved through and lit the rest illuminating the room in a soft yellow light.
There was a nest of blankets in the corner. These too I had pulled from a charity bin. I had a lot of them and they were actually quite comfortable. I had piled them on top of each other and into a makeshift bed.
The cold was the worst part. There was no electricity in the office, no heat, no power, no running water. I had worked out a sort of system. I had dragged a metal trash bin in from outside so I could use it to make a small fire. I put the fire near the window so when the window was cracked open most of the smoke was pulled outside.
I had grabbed some free newspapers on the way home and I crumpled them up and threw them in with the kindling, lighting a quick fire. I cracked open the window next to it as the flames consumed the kindling.
I couldn’t leave the fire going at night. I worried about breathing in too much smoke and dying on my pile of blankets. I would let the fire burn as long as it could to remove some of the cold from the office. When it was done there would be some burning embers, but mostly the blankets would keep me warm.
The fire caught quickly, a smoky smell filled the room. I walked to the bathroom where I kept a bucket of water. The electricity was off, but as long as I kept the tank full, I could use the toilet.
This was my life now. It wasn’t where I planned to be. I had gone to college at NYU and graduated with a 3.8 GPA. I wanted to be an elementary school teacher. I completed all the training and got the necessary certificates. Then my life fell apart. I had to run. I spent days on buses traveling across the country. I ran out of money in Williamstown, Maine.
I couldn’t get a job because to do that, I would have to give my social security number, date of birth and all of the other identifying information. I would be in the system. He would be able to find me. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to hide until I could figure something out.
This was what hiding looked like. Alone and cold, squatting in an abandoned office. The nights were the worst. During the day, I could walk through town or read in the bookstore, but at night, I had nowhere to be. I read until the fire was nothing more than a few hot coals at the bottom of the barrel. Once the smoke stopped, I closed the window and nestled into my blankets, praying I wouldn’t freeze to death during the night.
***
As I walked to work the next morning I saw the name Lev everywhere. I hadn’t noticed it before. The small park on the river was Lev park, given as a gift to the town by Nadezhda Lev in 1909. The library was a gift from Mikhail Lev in 1923.
The piece of paper with Anton Lev’s number was still sitting on the counter. I had placed the order for the books, but they wouldn’t arrive for another few days. The look he had given me the other day had me worried. Could he tell that something was off about me? Could he guess how I was living just from looking?
I was worried about constantly smelling like a fire so I made sure to shower at the YMCA every morning. I kept my clothes hanging from the shower curtain in my bathroom so they wouldn’t smell either. There was a Laundromat in town and I managed to get there once a week. I might currently be a squatter, but I had no intention of smelling like one.
It was twelve thirty when he came in. I was slowly sipping the last of my ramen, enjoying every last atom of it. He looked the same. Tall and handsome with his thick, but well-trimmed beard. He was wearing the same stylish overcoat, but a different scarf. I wondered how many scarves he had.
“Your books aren’t in yet,” I stammered as he approached the counter.
“I know,” he said. “I’m just browsing.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” I said again, aware that I said that to him the last time he had come in.
He nodded, but instead of heading up to the history section he lingered among the best sellers. He picked up the Stephen King and flipped through it absentmindedly before putting it back.
“How are you today, Kristen?” he called over. There was no one else in the store, just the two of us. I was surprised he had remembered my name.
“Fine, thank you,” I answered. He moved over to me, easily maneuvering past the piles of books. He leaned against my counter and looked at me. I tossed my empty ramen cup in the trash, praying I had nothing stuck in my teeth.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Williamstown?” He asked. His voice was smooth and even. And every time he opened his mouth he had my full attention.
“Yes,” I answered. Which was half-true. Other than the fact that I was living in squalor, I did quite like Williamstown. If I lived in an apartment somewhere I’m sure I would never want to leave.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I wasn’t sure if I could take any more of his questions, so I cut him off.
“Are you related to the Lev family who donated the park and the library? I’ve been seeing that name everywhere since I met you.’
“Yes,” he answered with a nod. “The Lev family moved to this town in the early 1900s. We’ve been here ever since.”
“It’s a lovely town,” I said. He smelled fantastic and looked even better. I guessed he was in his late twenties, the beard made him look a little older. I wondered where he lived. Was it nice? Was it warm? Did it require a trash can fire?
“Maybe sometime I could show you around,” he said.
I sat back in my chair, stunned at the request.
“Ummm... that’s very nice of you. But I can’t do anything like that right now. I have a lot of...stuff going on.” What was I going to do, go straight from the shower at the Y to a date with this rich man? How would I explain to him that I was technically homeless and living in an abandoned office building? What would I say when it was time for me to run again?
His expression remained the same, he didn’t look hurt at my rejection. He just looked at me like he was trying to figure me out.
“Another time, then,” he said.
Chapter Three
My shift at the bookstore was over. I should have been walking home, but instead, I was sitting on a bench in the park donated by Nadezhda Lev. It was a lovely little park, even in the winter. There were dark, wrought-iron fences tangled with vines and flower beds that, in warmer times, were probably filled with bright flowers.
Shivering from the cold, I stood up but I didn’t wa
lk towards my little squatter’s cottage. Instead, I headed down the street that led away from the park and into a small forest that sat on the western edge of town. I had seen the hiking trails before but hadn’t yet explored them.
I was going to walk around for just a little while. I wouldn’t let myself get too far into the woods. I had no plans for someone to find my frozen corpse after the snow had melted. I just really, really didn’t want to go back to the nest of blankets and the fire pit, it was too cold. Too sad. I was sure if I went back there I would just sit in the corner and cry.
I had spent the day replaying Anton’s offer in my head. He had offered to take me out and show me around. My stomach was rumbling from hunger and I was cold, but I still said no. He was hot and I was desperate, it should have been the perfect combination, but my pride had stopped me. I wasn't that desperate, was I?
No, not yet. I could make it a little bit longer. I had a job and I was making money. Soon I would have enough to afford renting a real apartment, one with electricity and water and heat. I wasn’t ready to start going out with men just for a hot meal. I could make it a little longer. The winter had been hard, but winter wouldn’t last forever. Spring would arrive, I could make it.
I walked down a long path, my feet crunching on the hard earth. Thick gray clouds covered the sky diffusing the bright light of the sun into a pale glow. It was getting darker, it would be night soon and then I would have to return to my shanty.
The path in front of me opened up to a wild field ringed with trees. Bright red POSTED signs were stapled to the trees. The field was desolate in the winter, the grass was brown and trampled from the snow. There was a large, decrepit barn in the middle of the field and, having nowhere else to go, I made my way to it.
The wind picked up, whipping my hair around my head. Dusk had fallen, darkness was taking over the field, but I didn’t stop. The huge, three-story tall barn loomed in front of me. Portions of it were missing and I could see the inside through several large holes. I stepped through one of the larger holes and found myself in the barn.
There were rusted tools lying on the ground, bales of old rotten hay decaying in the corners. I wasn’t even sure why I had come in here. The barn had just given me an excuse to walk somewhere, now I would have to turn around and go home.
There was a ladder built into one wall that led to a second floor. The beams looked sturdy and free from rot. I put one hand on and lifted myself up. Carefully, I made my way up to the second floor. From up here I had a full view of the rapidly darkening field. It stretched for miles, far into the horizon. It was dotted with trees and more decrepit buildings.
It felt good being up here. I was away from the concerns and the worries that haunted me when I was on ground level. From up here, everything was far away and hazy in the distance. Something moved in the field, it was darting around the edges, jumping out from the woods and scurrying about before diving back in.
It was too far away for me to see what it was. But it was big, lithe and fast. It looked like a big cat, like a lion. But they didn’t have lions in Maine, it must have been something else. The wind whipped up, pulling my hair towards the opening in front me.
It was almost like I could see the wind carrying my scent. The dead grass ruffled in the wind as it raced towards the animal. Even from this distance I could see the lion lift its head and sniff the wind. It turned towards the barn and lowered itself into a crouch and then sprang up and raced towards me.
Shit! I thought in a panic. I raced for the ladder and clamored my way down. Why did I come here? What was I thinking? Once back on the ground I looked through the hole in the barn trying to see where the animal was. What it was.
For a moment, I saw nothing. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my own ears. Maybe I could make a break for it. I moved to the hole I had come in through when I heard a rustling outside. I froze when a low growl reached my ears. I turned my head and for a moment, my heart stopped.
It was a lion, a huge lion. It had a tan coat and a thick shaggy mane blowing about in the wind. Its hard yellow eyes saw me and then it was lunging and scratching at the hole. I stumbled backwards as a huge paw lashed at me. The hole was too small for the big lion to get through, but there were other ways into the barn.
I was trapped. I quickly turned around and raced back to the ladder clamoring up to the second floor. I just pulled my feet up when the lion came charging into the barn. It was huge, massive. I couldn’t believe how big it was.
It saw me. It looked up at me and snarled. Quickly the lion paced around the room. He jumped up on a hay bale that collapsed underneath his weight. He let out a low, grumbling roar and pulled himself free of the rot. He looked up at me and let out a roar so loud that my ears rang.
I scrambled back away from the ledge. I fell down into a small ball, pulling my knees up towards me as I fought back tears.
Why was there a lion here? How was there a lion surviving a Maine winter? This was insane, this was impossible. I was going to be one of those, you won’t believe what happened to her stories. Mauled to death by a lion. It sounded like a horrible way to die.
It was still down there. I could hear it snuffling and growling. Could it get up here? It was too high for it to jump, but if it could find its way up, I would be screwed. It was getting darker and colder by the second.
I had no cell phone. I had no way to get in touch with anyone. I had no options. I stared out the open window and searched for any signs of human life. There was a full moon out and the field below me was bright.
“Hello!” I called out into the darkness. “Help! Is anyone there! Can anyone hear me?” My voice enraged the lion. I could hear him thrashing about below me. I dared to glance over the ledge where I could see him scratching on the ladder trying to make his way up. Our eyes met and his nostrils flared and he bared his teeth at me.
I spent the night huddled in the corner of the barn. There was some hay on the landing, dry, thank God. I gathered it up in a pile and then wormed my way inside. The hay was a slight insulator against the cold. I pulled as much of it to me as possible, praying for warmth.
The lion never left. I could hear it pacing the floor below me. Sometimes I would get brave and peak over the ledge, but it was always waiting for me. He would snap his jaws, snarl and roar.
I was freezing. Shaking from head to toe. I pulled my limbs free of my clothes and pulled myself into a tight ball, wrapping my clothes around me. My teeth were chattering and tears were freezing on my cheeks. It was so, so cold and morning was still so far away. I managed to close my eyes for some fitful minutes of sleep, but then the cold stinging my limbs would awaken me.
The lion never seemed to sleep. It paced below me and licked its lips. It was waiting for me and it looked like it was willing to wait forever.
Chapter Four
I opened my bleary eyes as the first rays of the sun were appearing on the field. A soft, pale light poured through the clouds. I was frozen solid. My body ached from the cold. I was tired and spent, I wanted to crawl into a bed, a real bed and sleep.
I didn’t believe it at first. But when I couldn't hear the lion below me. I looked down into the barn and didn’t see it anywhere. I looked up and out the window. There the great beast was, far off in the field, loping towards the sun. Was this a trap, was it really gone? I watched as it ran farther and farther away from me.
When it was nothing more than a dot on the far horizon I stumbled to my feet. It hurt to move. My joints cried out in pain as I walked towards the stairs. I clung to the rungs with my numb hands hurrying down the ladder. I still couldn't quite believe it was gone.
Daylight was breaking as I picked up my speed. I ran through the field. I tripped over roots and fell more than once. I kept looking behind me searching for the lion, but it was nowhere in sight. I ran until I was back on the trail. My lungs were burning from the cold and a stitch was forming in my side.
I didn’t stop until I got to town. Once I was on the s
treet surrounded by people, by real people, I managed to catch my breath. It seemed impossible that I had been this close to civilization. Last night it felt like I was the only person left in the world and now I was watching shop owners open their stores.
“Officer!” I saw two policewomen sitting in an idling police car and sipping their coffees. I ran up to their car and both of them stepped out to greet me.
“Lion,” I gasped. “There’s a lion on the loose.”
“No there isn’t,” the older of the two women said. “That’s just an urban legend teenagers spread. There is no lion on the loose in Maine, especially not in winter.”
“I saw it!” I said my eyes searching between the two women. The older one had a head of shocking red hair and her name tag said “Officer Day.” Her partner, Officer Ponderosa, was younger with long brown hair. “I spent all night trapped in the old barn off the hiking trail. I saw it there. It tried to eat me!”
They looked at each other and then back at me. “Really?” the younger one asked.
“Yes!”
“And you’re willing to go on the record saying that?”
“Yes. If we go to the barn we could see paw prints,” I said.
“We can’t go to that barn,” Officer Day said. “It’s on private property. You were technically trespassing last night. Didn’t you see the posted signs?”
I opened my mouth but said nothing. Yes, I saw the signs. But I didn’t know that meant there was a lion running rampant on the property.
“What’s your name and address?” The older officer said as she opened a notebook.
Crap! This wasn’t what I wanted. None of this was right. Was I about to be in trouble for trespassing? Did no one care that I had seen a freaking lion the night before?
“Never mind,” I said, backing away.
“You’re not in trouble,” Officer Ponderosa said as she moved slowly towards me. She was approaching me like I was a wild animal, her hands were up and her knees were bent. She was ready to tackle.
