by Patricia Fry
"We've already gone over all of the what-ifs and unlesses, Michael. It's no use. Either they're out there or they aren't and if they are... " he hesitated. "... if they are, they probably got stuck on the other side of the inlet Rob told us about and they can't get back because of high tide."
"Possible, of course."
"Anything?" Charles Peyton asked as he approached the two distraught men.
They shook their heads.
Charles stared out into the darkness and said under his breath, "That is no place for two women... at night." He turned to Max and Michael. "I'd send helicopters up, but the pilots wouldn't see anything in this marine layer." He dropped his head. "The best I can do is send my security people out in the morning, when this lifts. Tide will be out come morning. Some are prepared to walk out from here. Others will drive in from the other side of the forest, in case they made it that far."
"Fresh coffee," Rob announced as he came from Michael's bungalow with a tray of coffee mugs. "Where are Craig and his wife?" he asked, looking around.
Michael motioned toward the Acacia Bungalow. "They went to bed. I promised we'd call them if we hear anything." He glanced toward the Sledge's bungalow. "I'm sure they're not getting much rest." He took one of the coffee mugs. "Thanks," he said, staring out into the darkness. "Looks like it's going to be a long night."
****
What was that? Savannah wondered. "Auntie, I hear you—come this way. I'm over here." Gosh, I hope that's Auntie I hear moving through the trees. She crouched, listened, and waited until the rustling sound faded. "Auntie," she called in a whisper. "Where are you?"
Nothing.
I have to find her, she thought. She may be hurt. Savannah began moving slowly and deliberately toward where she had last seen her aunt. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of what looked like Margaret's turquoise jacket. She rushed toward it as quickly as she could over the uneven terrain. "Oh my gosh Auntie, what happened?"
There, she found Margaret slumped facedown over a large rock, lying eerily still, her hand still gripping the flashlight. Savannah's heart pounded in her chest. It was difficult to breathe. "Auntie, Auntie," she called, as she checked for a pulse. Thank God, she's alive, but she's hurt—how badly? she wondered. Using what little light was available from the flashlight, she could see that Margaret was bleeding from a wound on her head. Savannah sucked in a deep breath and glanced around her. Now what? she asked herself. I've really blown it this time. Through gritted teeth, she growled, "Damn cat!"
Just then she heard Margaret moan.
"Auntie, what happened?" Savannah asked as she helped Margaret move onto her back. Savannah eased her to the ground so she was leaning against the boulder.
Margaret rolled her head from side to side. "Vannie?" she said in a weak, strained voice.
"What happened?" Savannah asked again. "Did you fall?"
Margaret put her hand up to her head and winced. "Yeah, after someone... smacked me with a... bat or something."
"Who?" Savannah asked, dropping to her knees and looking around.
"Don't know. Didn't see... " Margaret tried to sit up straighter and then slumped. "I don't feel so good."
Savannah gently pushed some of Margaret's hair aside, and shined the dim light on her forehead. "Gads, no wonder you don't feel well. Someone really clobbered you." Savannah quickly removed her own jacket and pulled off her t-shirt, which she used to dab at the gash. "Hold this against your head-can you do that?"
"Yeah, just let me lie down."
Savannah stood up and looked around the area as she slipped back into her jacket. "I guess this is as good a place as any. At least it's relatively dry here." She helped Margaret lie back flat on the ground and rest her head on the hood of her jacket.
"Did you see who hit you?" Savannah asked. "Where'd they go, anyway?"
"I don't' know where he came from or where he went, but he sure packs a wallop."
"I hate to think there's someone like that out here," Savannah said, as if to herself. She looked at her aunt. "Maybe you ran into something in the dark."
When Savannah saw her aunt roll her head back and forth and heard her moan, she felt herself start to panic. "We need help, Auntie." She slumped down next to Margaret. "Sure wish we had a cell phone or matches."
"Matches?" Margaret asked, her voice labored.
"Yeah, we could start a fire and maybe someone would see it and rescue us. I wish those rich people didn't live so far away from everyone and everything," Savannah complained. She perked up a little as she realized. "We could be near civilization and not even know it."
"What?" Margaret asked, sounding groggy.
"There could be someone out there, but we just can't see them because of the fog. Heck, we might be standing in someone's backyard right now." She thought for a moment and added, "Maybe I should keep walking in the direction we've been going and see if I can find someone."
"No, don't leave me," Margaret begged. "Let's wait until daylight."
"I think you need help. We have to get you some help." Savannah looked at her aunt and began to tremble. No! she told herself,I can't give in to my fear. I have to be strong. Maybe I shouldn't leave her. I may not find my way back. "Okay then," she said out loud, "there's something else I can try." She stood, took a deep breath, and began calling loudly, "Help! Help! Someone help us, please!"
Margaret reached up and grabbed at Savannah's leg. "Shhh. He might come back."
"We have few choices, Auntie. You can't lie on this damp ground all night in the mist, bleeding like that." She checked her aunt's wound, dabbed at it, and then began calling again, "Help! Help!"
"It's no use, Vannie," Margaret said, tears streaming down her face. "No one's going to come. We don't even know where we are. I'm going to die out here in the swamps of San Francisco because of... a caaat," she wailed.
"Shhh, Auntie. Take it easy. Don't get upset. We'll be okay," Savannah soothed. I don't know how, she thought,but we will be okay. We will be okay. She folded her arms against herself and continued to look around the area, hoping to see even a hint of life somewhere—hoping that someone would come to their rescue. "Help! Help!" she shouted out into the night.
The fickle fog drifted in and out, intermittently enshrouding everything within four feet, then lifting and creating brief windows into the distant darkness, and Savannah continued to search the horizon for some sign of life. Suddenly, she called out, "A light. Auntie, I saw a flicker of light. I'm going to walk in that direction. I think there's someone out there."
Margaret grabbed at Savannah. She rolled her head slowly from side to side. "No! Don't leave me, Vannie. Don't go."
"I have to get help, Auntie. You're losing a lot of blood." She took a few steps toward the glow she'd seen through the fog. "Dang, where is it? I can't see anything now. Darn fog!" Cupping her hands around her mouth again, she called as loudly as she could. "Help! Help!" She stared into the darkness, trying her best to catch another glimpse of the light she thought she'd seen. Nothing. Dropping down next to Margaret, she said, "It's gone. I can't see it anymore. Maybe it was my imagination." She began to cry. "What are we going to do, Auntie?"
"It'll be okay, Vannie," Margaret managed through her wooziness and pain. "Just relax. I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep."
Savannah sat up and leaned over her aunt. "No. Don't go to sleep. Come on, let's talk about something. Let's sing. You can't go to sleep... "
"Is that what you tell your animal patients?" Margaret asked, slurring her words a little.
Savannah smiled weakly through her tears. "Sure, but they rarely listen... especially the cats. They do love their catnaps."
"So your patients are stubborn like your aunt, huh?" Margaret asked, trying to make light of a serious situation.
Savannah wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Yeah, some of them are." Suddenly, she straightened a little, cocked her head, and listened. "What's that?"
&
nbsp; "What?" Margaret asked, trying to sit up a little.
"Lie still. Listen." She pointed. "I hear something moving around down there."
Margaret grabbed Savannah's arm and whispered loudly, panic in her voice. "It could be a bear or a wolverine."
Savannah chuckled in a rush of hysteria and said, "No, I think it's a person."
"Get down, Vannie," Margaret coaxed. "It could be... "
Savannah ducked next to Margaret. She continued to hear the rustling and crunching of leaves and twigs. Closer and closer it came. "There," Savannah whispered. "It's over there. I see a light moving through the trees." She spoke cautiously, "I just hope it's someone who can help us." Mustering as much courage as she could, she lifted herself to a standing position and shouted, "Hello. Is someone there? Please, we need help."
"Where are you?" came the response.
"That's a woman's voice," Margaret whispered.
Savannah took a ragged breath. "Yes, I just hope it's someone responding to our call for help and not the person who hit you." She swallowed hard, then shouted, "Here! Over here!"
But the stranger did not move forward. "Who are you and what's your problem?"
"We're lost and my aunt is hurt. We need help," Savannah said, trying to keep her voice from quivering.
"What are you doing out here, anyway?" the woman asked as she approached Savannah and Margaret. "No one comes out here at night, unless they're hunting possum or ghosts." She held up her lantern and studied the women. "You don't look like the possum-eating kind. Are you ghost-hunters? There are plenty of them around here," she said, sarcastically.
Savannah shook her head. "We're looking for a cat. He escaped from the mansion." She glanced at Margaret. "Someone hit my aunt and she needs attention." She then focused on the woman, noticing that she wore khaki slacks, a fleece-lined denim jacket, and leather work boots. Savannah squinted toward the stranger. "We need help getting back to the mansion. Our husbands must be worried sick."
"Oh, you can't go back there tonight. Fog's in, tide's in. You could drown walking through the bog. You got here just in time."
Savannah groaned a little. She then asked, "Do you have a phone?"
"No. Haven't had a phone in years."
Savannah tightened her arms against her body. Was she trembling because of the damp chill or from pure fright? After all, she didn't know where she was, how to get help for her injured aunt, or the intentions of the strange woman who had emerged from the thick fog.
She looks a little scary—maybe unbalanced, Savannah thought. But I guess we have to trust her—what other choice do we have? Auntie's hurt pretty bad. She narrowed her eyes and asked, "What are you doing out here, anyway?"
The woman cackled, her voice gravelly. "I could ask you the same question."
"I told you... " Savannah started.
"Your story sounds fishy to me." Savannah could feel the stranger's steely-eyed glare as she probed. "What were you doing at the mansion, anyway... with a cat? And why would two grown women be chasing a cat out into the bog... at night?" She pointed a crooked finger. "Maybe you escaped from prison." She glanced down at Margaret, who lay still on the ground holding Savannah's t-shirt against the gash on her forehead. She studied Savannah before adding, "Maybe you're witches, or just crazy. ... looking for a cat... likely story."
"Please," Savannah pleaded, "can you help us? My aunt needs attention."
The woman held up her lantern and peered more closely at Savannah, then lighted the area where Margaret lay. "What happened to her?" she asked. "Did she fall and hit her head?"
"Yeah, after someone clobbered me," Margaret said, weakly. She looked suspiciously at the woman and asked, "Was it you?"
"Twasn't me," she said, "and there's no one out here but me." The woman knelt next to Margaret and lifted the bloody t-shirt. "That might need stitches. Keep pressure on it like you're doing." She stood and said to Savannah. "I guess you two are harmless. Can she walk?"
"I sure don't want to stay here all night," Margaret said, in her usual crusty manner. With obvious effort, she lifted her head and rolled a little to one side. "Oooh, it hurts," she said, easing back down onto the ground.
Savannah took in a deep breath and let it out. "How far are we going, anyway? Can you tell us where you're taking us?"
The woman looked briefly at Savannah before saying, "To my home. Or you can stay here all night if you want and catch pneumonia or be eaten by a pack of coyotes."
Savannah studied the woman, looked down at her aunt, and quietly said, "Okay. Let's go."
"Ohhh," Margaret moaned as the two women helped her to her feet. "My head is throbbing."
"Just hang in there, Auntie," Savannah coaxed. "Lean on us; let us help you. You'll be okay."Gads, I hope I sound more reassuring to my aunt than I do to myself, she thought.
The trio edged deeper into the forest, stepping carefully through the rough terrain. Fifteen minutes had passed when the woman finally said, "There's my place, on the other side of the tree line. We're almost there."
"How're you doing, Auntie?" Savannah asked.
"Okay. I'll be okay, once I can lie down on something softer than that rocky ground."
"Look, there's a cat," Savannah said.
"Yeah, I have cats," the woman replied. "You said you're looking for one?"
"Yes, my cat escaped from the mansion."
The woman stopped suddenly. Margaret and Savannah looked at her. "What's wrong?" Savannah asked.
"I'm just wondering why you and your cat were at the mansion."
"Let's get my aunt comfortable and I'll tell you. Please? Can we go on?"
The stranger peered at Savannah, and said, "Okay. I guess."
Gosh, this seems awfully far from any civilization, Savannah thought. I wonder why she lives out here like this. What's her story?
"How much farther?" Margaret asked, her voice growing weaker.
"Not far. Just lean on us. We'll get you there."
"Where do you live, in a tree or a stilt house?" Margaret asked, sounding groggy.
"Stilt house?" Savannah repeated, chuckling.
"Yeah, you can't build in a swamp," Margaret reasoned.
The woman shook her head. "Oh, I'm not in the swamp. Don't worry about that."
"By the way," Savannah said, "I'm Savannah and this is my aunt Margaret."
Margaret grunted, "Maggie."
"Okay, Maggie and Savannah," the woman repeated.
After a measure of silence, Savannah asked, "Aren't you going to tell us your name?"
"I'd rather not, but I guess I should, under the circumstances. Looks like I'll be operating on one of you."
Savannah felt Margaret flinch a little, and she caught a glimpse of her sideways glance toward the stranger.
"I'm Pearl," she said. "What am I doing out here? That's a story for another time—or maybe never." She stopped and took a few breaths. "Now, we have to go through a rough patch. Watch for fallen logs, rocks, and badger holes."
Margaret looked up at Savannah, who assured her, "We'll take it slow."
When she felt Margaret balk, Pearl said, "Look, Maggie, you can see my house from here. Just watch—the fog will lift a little now and then and you'll see the lights. We're almost there; really."
"Oh, I see it," Margaret said. "Thank heavens." She shook her head slowly. "I don't think I could have made it any farther." She squeezed her helpers around their waists and said, "Let's go. Come on, I just gotta lie down."
"Not too fast," Pearl said. "Watch your step. There are rocks out here, and cats."
Soon the trio could clearly see the house.
"What a lovely sight," Margaret whispered.
As they approached, Pearl warned, "Now there are a few steps up to the porch. Take it slow."
Margaret looked up briefly. "Yeah, quite a few steps, I'd say." She stopped and slumped a little. "Can't I just lie down out here somewhere?"
"No, you can't," Savannah said. She readjusted her grip on Margaret. "Come on, you can do it. You have to do it." She looked around. "Wow, who would have thought you'd find a house like this way out in the... "
"Boonies?" Pearl said. "Why not? It's as good a place as any to live and not be bothered."
"Well, I guess so," Savannah said. She tightened her grip on her aunt. "Come on Auntie, let's get you inside."
Margaret groaned as she stepped up onto the first step.
"You okay?" Pearl asked.
"Yeah, I think so," she said, quietly. "Let's just do it, shall we?"
"Five... six... and seven," Pearl counted. "That's all the steps; seven. Now, come on inside and let's take a closer look at your head wound."
Once inside the house, Savannah chuckled. "I guess you do have cats. Auntie, do you see that? You'll be right at home here."
"Uh-huh," she responded unenthusiastically. "I just want to sleep. Just let me sleep."
"Hold on to her, will ya?" Pearl said. She walked over to a daybed and gently nudged two cats off onto the floor. She pulled back the blankets and fluffed the pillow. "Let her sit here while I get her a glass of water." She asked Savannah, "Do you want some, too?"
"Sure do," she said, eagerly.
Before leaving the room, Pearl looked Margaret up and down. "We need to get you out of those wet, muddy clothes. You're a might bit shorter than me, but I'll bet my PJs will fit." With that, Pearl continued on her mission to bring water to her guests, then she shuffled down a long hallway, returning with a pair of flannel pajamas. She instructed Margaret to remove her wet, mud-encrusted shoes, jeans, and jacket. Savannah and Pearl helped in the process. Just as Margaret prepared to lie down, a small tabby hopped up next to her. "No, Cornelia, you can't sleep here tonight," Pearl said, gently lifting the cat. She placed her in a cat bed near the smoldering fireplace, saying, "You can sleep in Miss Kitty's bed." She then scooped up a grey cat off the foot of the small bed. "No Julep, someone else needs the bed tonight." Once the daybed was free of cats, Pearl helped Margaret lie down and covered her with two wool blankets. She said, "I think she'll feel better once she's comfortable."
