by Denise Daisy
Lillian gracefully stormed the stage, approaching Trent. “Why me?” she demanded overdramatically. “You could have your choice of any woman. Why do you choose me? I need to know!”
“How can you ask me such a question? Look at you,” Trent’s stage voice rode on its gallantry.
Gently, he turned Lillian’s face to an imaginary mirror. “You see your reflection and still you ask?”
Lillian turned back to Trent. “But one day, this reflection will be a small resemblance of what you see now. Time will take its vengeance, and then what? Can you love what is left?”
Carla Jo moved to the edge of the sofa, eager to hear what the dashing Trent would say next.
“My love…"
Carla Jo’s heart skipped a beat.
“Are you asking me if I love you only because of your beauty? I ask you, are you only beautiful to me because I love you?”
As Trent delivered his last line, he broke character by turning to Marcus with an exasperated expression. Raising his hand, Marcus stopped the rehearsal.
“Okay guys. That’s where we lost our audience last performance.”
“They bloody laughed!” Trent exploded. “Is it me? Am I saying it weird? Do I have a comical expression on my face?”
“No, you’re wonderful!” The words exploded from Carla Jo’s mouth, followed by an outburst of laughter from the troupe.
“Thank you, love.”
Her face turned a crimson red.
“It’s not you.” Bronwyn said, diverting Carla Jo from her embarrassment.
“What are you trying to communicate here?” Marcus asked, approaching the subject delicately, not wanting to offend her again.
Bronwyn closed her eyes for a minute. “I want to emphasize the point that beauty, true beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder. She asks him if he would still love her if she wasn’t beautiful, and he is attempting to let her know that no matter how she looks, she will always be beautiful to him because he loves her.”
She paused a moment, her eyes still shut. “His love for her only allows him to see her as beautiful.”
She opened her eyes and turned to Marcus to see if there was a glimmer of understanding. Instead of seeing Marcus, her eyes fell on Travis, leaning on the back wall, arms folded across his chest. Her stomach churned, her pulse accelerated, and she felt her face burning possibly as red as Carla Jo’s. How long had he been standing there? What had he heard?
Trent’s next display of verbiage did not add comfort. “It doesn’t work Bronwyn, because Lillian is beautiful. Any man would love her. But if her character were flawed in some way, the dialogue would have more meaning.”
Bronwyn desperately wanted to contradict Trent’s idea, yet she knew he was right.
“I’m sure make-up could take care of the problem.” Karley’s opinion sounded more like goading. “Maybe a prosthetic nose or chin, a fat suit or something.”
“Or maybe instead of trying to make Lillian ugly, you could learn the lines and do the part yourself, Karley,” Wilbur mumbled from one of the overstuffed chairs.
Marcus quickly jumped in, derailing another onslaught of insults between the two. “Can you fix it?”
Bronwyn wasn’t sure she could fix it. Any other time, she would have answered with assurance. However, her inspiration for writing had abandoned her. She knew it would be difficult at best to fix the script. Nevertheless, she assured Marcus that she would work on a re-write.
Marcus promptly cancelled the remainder of rehearsal, and Travis left the room.
She debated on whether or not to follow him. She was almost certain he could offer some profound insight on the subject. She gathered her script and headed for the door.
She had nearly reached the exit before Wilbur’s gargling voice called her back.
“Before you go work on our much needed re-write, I’d like to have a word with you.” His voice teemed with condescension.
She sighed, very loud, audible. The last thing she needed was a conversation with Wilbur Hogg. “What’s up Wilbur?”
“I’m glad to see you’re doing better since the near-tragic events of last night. I trust Marcus asking for a re-write will not rekindle the anger from yesterday.”
She wished Wilbur would cut the small talk and tell her what was on his mind. “I’m over it.”
Wilbur took a seat in a nearby chair. “The fact of the matter is, you are a very gifted writer.”
Her heart fell into the chair with Wilbur. If he was going to sit through this, it might take longer than she had anticipated. Longer than she wanted.
“I have always admired your work. We all are aware, however, that you are experiencing some sort of writer’s block, as well as a personal emotional struggle. I believe the best remedy for that is a little confidence booster and some friendly advice from the people who care about you.”
She leaned her head against the wall, sighing. She was stuck with a lecture from a financial analyst who knew little about writing, let alone the subject of love. Wilbur removed a tube of Chap Stick from his pocket and smeared it over his plump lips.
“I’m referring to the screenplay you co-wrote with Ryan,” he said.
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Now, I am aware you do not wish to sign your rights over for personal reasons. But think of the notoriety if you did; the prestige it would offer our troupe. It would obviously be a blockbuster hit, with Ryan and Gabriella Mendez playing the leads.”
At the mention of their names, Bronwyn bolted upright and headed for the door. “I said I didn’t want to discuss this!”
“There you go again, stomping off like a spoiled child, not willing to listen to any advice. Just like you did yesterday, when you nearly got yourself killed, not to mention someone else.”
His harsh words stopped her in her tracks. Despite her anger at his interference, she had to admit he was right. She had developed a bad habit of walking away when she grew uncomfortable with a situation or conversation.
She turned back to Wilbur, who had hoisted his heavy body from the chair in an attempt to follow her. “I’m listening.” She said in a frosty voice.
“I care about you, Bronwyn. And I certainly care about his troupe. The notoriety would be great for you, and us. Not to mention the money.”
“So this is what this whole conversation is really about? Money? I should have known.”
“Money is important. Not to mention necessary. Just think - you could help us purchase a new bus, better equipment... in a sense, you could own the troupe.”
She sighed. “It’s never been a dream of mine to own a traveling drama troupe, Hogg. There are just some things money can’t buy. This whole thing is between Ryan and me. This isn’t just a script. It’s personal, and represents our time together. That is something I cherish. I cannot and will not put a price tag on that.”
“Well, he obviously isn’t as sentimental about it as you are.” His words stung. “I think you’re jealous that he wants Gabriella Mendez to star in it instead of you. You’re just being selfish in every way possible!”
She took a deep, cleansing breath and glared at Wilbur. “This is none of your business, Hogg. Never talk to me about it again.”
She brushed past Wilbur and ascended the staircase to her room. Her heart was aching, her anger rising. She found Bethany and Lillian in the room dressed in shorts, t-shirts and tennis shoes.
“Hurry and change clothes,” Bethany laced her shoe. “Travis is taking those of us who want to go on a moonlight hike to some waterfalls.”
“He is?” Bronwyn’s suspicion rose, remembering his private meeting with the smoking man. Perhaps they had been planning something devious that was soon to play out.
“I don’t know. It’s dark. Might be dangerous. Maybe we should stay here.”
Bethany glanced up at Bronwyn, shocked. “You’re serious?”
“I’m just remembering the wild animals, you know, bears feed at night.”
“Oh come on, please.” Bethany gave a sarcastic laugh. “Travis wouldn’t have asked us to come if he thought we would be bear food. Now hurry and put your swim suit on. It ought to be fun. He said the falls were breathtaking.”
Bronwyn could not stop her heart from racing at the mention of his name. She scolded herself, reminding herself that he was married, not to mention the lack of trust she now held toward him.
The offer was inviting in spite of her suspicions. The thought of a night hike to the waterfalls seemed thrilling in itself. As a night owl, evening was her favorite, along with dusk. The heat of the day would lessen, the first star of the evening would appear, and the moon would enter the night sky in fullest brilliance. She loved the moon whether it was full or waning. There was always something peaceful about it, not to mention romantic... there she was again, obsessing on Travis.
Quickly changing her clothes, she joined Bethany and Lillian on the back porch, along with the others. Travis was leaning on the railing, an unwilling captive audience to Walt’s legendary hospital story. Trent and Daniel were there, as well as an adventurous Karley, who said she was only going to scout out a secret place to dispose of Wilbur’s body after she was done with him. Carla Jo also joined the group. Her presence eased Bronwyn’s mind, dispelling any suspicion of malice. Surely Travis would not bring a child along on a night massacre. Anna, Marcus and Wilbur had decided to stay behind resting in the comforts of the inn, choosing to do their hiking in the light of day.
Travis turned his attention away from Walt’s story, his eyes falling upon Bronwyn, a smile turning at the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Shouldn’t we take some flashlights?” Lillian asked, concern in her voice.
“The moon is brilliant tonight,” Travis said. “You won’t need them.”
He led the way, skirting past the west side of the inn toward the river, the others trailing him while laughing and talking. Carla Jo giggled, thrilled to be coming along. They reached the river’s edge, passing the small dock and grassy picnic area. Travis led them a bit further down the river bank, then stepped onto a narrow path that disappeared into the thick woods bordering the property. The hikers were now forced to walk two by two down the dirt trail, with Bethany and Bronwyn bringing up the rear. Travis led. Carla Jo cozied up to Trent directly behind Travis, and Walt and Karley paired up, following Trent and Carla Jo. Daniel and Lillian fell in line next, leaving Bethany and Bronwyn last. For some time, they wound in and out of the dense trees and down the sides of the river bank. The river snaked deep inside the forest. At times, the path would be blanketed in total darkness, as the light from the moon was unable to penetrate through the thick foliage of the trees. The darkness became so thick that at times, the hikers could actually feel it. Bronwyn placed her hand in front of her face. It was barely visible.
“This is why I wanted to bring a flashlight,” Lillian said, her nervous voice ringing out. The pace slowed as each person’s confidence diminished. Within seconds, the path would wind into a partial clearing, moonlight flooding the area. Each time, the light appeared more splendid in contrast to the utter darkness that preceded it. Sighs and gleeful laughter often escaped the hiker’s mouths, only to be silenced by the path, as it again wound into total darkness. This pattern continued for most of the hike.
The last part of the walk took place in darkness; it seemed to last much longer than usual. The chatter diminished altogether and Bronwyn could sense anxiousness within the group. There was a noticeable air of uncertainty as the path narrowed even more, splitting up hiking partners forcing everyone to walk single-file.
“Everyone grab a hand and stay close,” Travis boomed from the front of the line. He took Carla Jo’s hand who eagerly took Trent’s, who grabbed Karley’s, who reluctantly took Walt’s, who happily took Lillian’s, who gratefully took Daniel’s, who casually took Bethany’s, who took Bronwyn’s. Bronwyn desperately wanted to reach back and take Ryan’s, but again, there was nothing but emptiness behind her. She walked along in total darkness, clutching tightly to Bethany. The woods were alive with chirping crickets, croaking frogs, an occasional hooting owl and the lonesome howl of a coyote. The soothing sounds of nature being constantly interrupted by the whining cries of Lillian.
“You still with me?” Bethany whispered.
“Whose hand do you think you’re holding?”
“Just making sure. I’m not sure what we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
Bronwyn could hear the apprehension in her voice, and admitted she did feel a little like a sheep being led to slaughter. Her thoughts traveled back to when she stumbled upon Travis and the cloaked man in the garden. What if they had met to plan out tonight’s massacre? What if Travis was leading them to a hidden place, where a coven of knife-wielding hooded figures would come upon them and sacrifice the lot of them to some strange cult god of the mountains? But if that was the case, why bring along his little girl?
That offered small consolation, but not enough. Bronwyn’s heart sped up as she reprimanded her vivid imagination. The cheerful chatter of the group had long since dissipated. She could sense everyone’s uncertainty. The darkness was now almost unbearable.
She stiffened as she felt a presence behind her, sending a shiver up her spine.
She glanced over her shoulder into the thick darkness. Her eyes could not focus on anything, yet she knew something was moving quietly along behind her. She took in a deep breath and smelled the familiar scent that clings to the clothes of smokers, the stale aroma of cigarettes overpowering the pine and spruce. The smoking man was nearby; she was sure of it. Uneasiness overpowered her. She half expected to feel the cold blade of a knife dig into her flesh at any moment. She glanced behind her once again. There was nothing but total darkness.
Lillian broke the silence, “How much further?”
“Almost there!” Carla Jo’s cheerful voice answered from up front.
Something in Carla Jo’s gleeful response put everyone at rest. She envisioned Travis taking Carla Jo and the kids on many a moonlight hike. There was something quite comforting in that thought that dispelled her imaginations of Travis leading the group on some psychotic slaughter.
Her ears picked up on the sound of rushing water. “You hear that?”
“Hear what?’ Bethany answered nervously.
“A waterfall.”
No sooner had Bronwyn mentioned the word than the hikers reached a large clearing. The suppressed moonlight was released, illuminating the stunning view that lay before them. The hikers stood in silence, gasping and ahhing. Lying directly before them was a picturesque scene that appeared to be birthed from a wondrous fairy tale. A dark blue pool of water lay at the base of three impressive waterfalls, reflecting the silver glow of the moon. On both sides of the waterfalls were two of nature’s magnificent staircases made of rock, which led up to the top of the fifty-five foot falls. The moss clinging to the rocks gave an iridescent green glow, giving the falls a fantastical look. Cobalt blue waters gently poured over them, emptying into the giant pool below. Steam and fog rose from the hot spring.
The watery paradise was enclosed by tall black mountains silhouetted against the dark cobalt expanse. Seemingly millions of stars dotted the night sky, surrounding the full moon.
Bronwyn stepped forward, speechless, her heart totally drawn to this magnificent place. A strange feeling invaded her, as if she had been here before. She knew that was impossible; she would have remembered such a place, yet there was a strange familiarity, as if she had recently run into a long-lost friend. She felt like a child at home in her own backyard.
Carla Jo was the first to remove her outer clothing and jump into the balmy waters. Trent peeled off his shirt and dove in, much to her delight. The rest of the group followed.
Bronwyn had no desire to join. She’d had her fill of water in the lake. Totally oblivious to the others who were frolicking in the pool, she decided to climb the glowing, rocky staircase to
the top of the falls. The moon’s reflection off the water spotlighted a perfect path for her to follow.
She walked the path eagerly. All the fears and apprehensions that had manifested during the hike were gone. The excitement of exploring, accompanied by the unparalleled beauty of the place, erased all suspicion from her mind. The stony staircase led in and out of the trees, spiraling away from the falls and then back into view. The closer she came to the falls, the louder the roar, until the sounds of laughter and frivolity of the troupe were totally overpowered by the rushing waters. A fine mist sprayed her face. She didn’t mind, the brisk walk had caused her to work up quite a bit of perspiration. The blowing spray actually came as a welcome relief.
As she climbed higher and mounted each mammoth rock, she was forced to crouch down and grasp at sturdy rocks, as well as deeply rooted trees. She considered each step, continuing to climb with extreme caution. Her path wound into a view of the falls one last time.
Balancing herself, she turned and looked behind her. She’d climbed much higher than she thought. Below, her friends were dwarfed by the loftiness of the falls. She had a thought that maybe she should have told someone where she was going, but the roar of the falling water was so deafening that they would never be able to hear her, no matter how loud she yelled. She decided she could climb to the top and return before anyone noticed she was missing. Her overworked muscles burned. A few more feet, and Bronwyn found herself at the top of the gargantuan falls.
She stepped onto level ground. The scene before her was more spectacular than the one she’d witnessed below. It was surreal, like nothing she had ever experienced, and it seemed as if she could hear the instruments of an unseen orchestra, playing an anthem of majestic music, swelling to a crescendo as she reached the top. The feeling tore into her heart, causing inexplicable emotion, and for a reason she couldn’t explain, she began to cry.
