Grumbling, Jeff drained the sink.
“How can they not have a dishwasher?”
“Maybe it takes too much power,” said Bill amiably, “Maybe they like the simple life.”
“They’ve got two washing machines, a drier, a deep freeze, two microwaves and a deep fryer. How simple is that?”
“Ah, quit bellyaching,” Bill chided, “We’re done now. You ready to go outside with the kids?”
Jeff grimaced.
“Do we have to? Haven’t we earned a break? How about a game of chess instead?”
“I’m tempted, but as they’re my kids I kinda feel responsible for them, y’know?”
“No need; Phil and Lou are out there with them. And it’s their turn; we were out in the cold for hours this morning. Come on; the kids won’t even notice we’re not there.”
“OK, I’ll just check they’re OK and then I’ll let you beat me at chess again,” Bill smiled, “Jeff?”
“Yeah.”
“You do know that I let you win, don’t you?”
“Sure you do,” said Jeff, “Sure you do.”
As he waited for Bill to join him in the lounge, Jeff was still complaining about the absence of a dishwasher to anyone who would listen. Emma was not one of these. She was reading, sitting cross-legged in a high back chair in the corner, and showed little interest in Jeff’s sorry tale of domestic drudgery. Indeed, she showed little interest in anything going on around her, and it was all too easy to forget she was in the room at all.
Annie and Dave, however, were gratifyingly indulgent. At Jeff’s pointed prompting, they nodded sympathetically and examined his water-wrinkled palms. Neil, however, frowned; he was bored with Jeff’s performance.
“You wanted a backwoods hotel and that’s what you’ve got,” he muttered, “That's what we’ve all got. Thanks.”
Before Jeff could defend himself, Rita came into the room and Jeff chose to ignore Neil’s barbed remarks, opting instead for more sympathy.
“Ree, can you believe it? There was no dishwasher. Just look at my hands.”
“Yeah, Bill told me. But a place like this has to have one. Are you sure you looked everywhere?”
“Would I have hands like this if they had a dishwasher? Believe me, I looked.”
“Ah, my poor, poor baby,” said Rita, stroking his face with exaggerated concern.
In her corner of the room, Emma quietly closed her book and rose from her chair. As she left the room, Rita grimaced at Jeff.
“Sorry, didn’t see her there. I thought she was outside with the others.”
“No, she hasn’t been out of the hotel once.” said Jeff, “So much for experiencing the great outdoors; we might as well have gone to Disneyworld.”
“She has been out,” Dave corrected, “She was at the edge of the clearing earlier. And yesterday, when I was out walking, something had spooked her.”
“Spooked her?” Jeff asked, his chapped hands forgotten.
“Yeah. She said she thought something had been following her.”
“What?”
Dave shrugged.
“An animal maybe? Who knows? I didn’t see anything. And she was fine once we got back to the others.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing really. She said she thought she’d been followed, so we came back into the clearing together and then she said she must have imagined it and she was OK again.”
“But she wasn’t OK about it, was she?” Jeff said thoughtfully, “She must still have been upset because she came in, probably wanting to speak to me about it, only she burst in on the two of us…y’know.”
“No, no, she was outside after that,” said Dave, wincing as he realised he had reopened yesterday’s embarrassment, “I know, because she kinda told me what had happened.”
“Did she?” said Jeff, “Great. Look, I don’t know what Em said, but it was just an embarrassing accident; I thought the door was locked.”
“Relax. She was cool about it, grossed out, but cool. She’s a very mature kid.”
“I should go speak to her,” said Jeff.
“I thought you did already,” said Rita.
“Not about that; about whatever it was that followed her in the woods.”
“Jeff,” said Rita, “Em could be embarrassed that she got scared, OK? So just ask her if she wants to go for a walk or something, and let her bring the subject up if she wants to, when she wants to.”
“I know, I know. I can be sensitive,” he caught Rita’s raised eyebrow, “What?”
“Nothing,” she smiled, “You’ll be just fine.”
“OK. Thanks for your support. Think I’ll go now.”
Jeff left the room, passing Bill as he came in.
“Sorry Bill, can I take a rain check on the chess?”
“Sure, no problem. The rest of us can play a game of Monopoly,” he rubbed his hands together energetically, “There’s a box over there and it’s got nearly all the pieces.”
Minutes later, Rita was crossing the lobby.
Having loathed Monopoly since childhood, she had managed to excuse herself from the game on vaguely articulated and wholly fictitious moral grounds. She had escaped from the game, but now found herself with a long afternoon to fill, and Rita had never been very good at doing nothing. Absently pausing at the reception desk she found herself rearranging the pens into a neat row. She was already bored. So when, on the spur of the moment, it occurred to her that she might go and see whether Jeff was right, she acted at once. There must surely be a dishwasher in a place like this; Jeff had simply not been thorough in looking for it. He never really searched for any mislaid item and was always calling her to find things he’d lost, that were in fact in plain view, right in front of him. She’d find the dishwasher and then poor, dear Jeff would have to quit his complaining about his washday hands. She could be in and out of the basement in no time and the Cousins still weren’t back from town yet, so she wouldn’t actually be intruding. It wasn’t really trespassing either because she did have a reason to be there, albeit not a very pressing one.
Rita may have reasoned away any objections on the grounds of acceptable curiosity, but she nevertheless checked that there was no one else in the lobby before she slipped behind the desk and quietly opened the door that led down to the basement.
The kitchen was quiet yet Rita felt strange being down there alone. The room was well lit and its brushed steel units clinically utilitarian, but she felt an unusual prickling of her skin; the shivering thrill of being where she had no honest right to be.
Several rooms led off from the kitchen itself: two store rooms, a walk-in larder and a utility room. Rita moved from one to the next, searching for Jeff’s missing dishwasher.
Engrossed in her task, she didn’t realise that she was no longer alone in the silent kitchen. Pale eyes now followed her progress.
Oblivious to the newcomer, Rita completed her search. Jeff had been right, there was no dishwasher here. Rita closed the utility room door and stood for a moment, mentally checking off each room. Satisfied, she turned to go.
“Jeez!” she gasped, recoiling, “You gave me a shock.”
The girl had been standing right behind her, pale eyes regarding her gravely.
Still shaken, Rita leant back against the door for support.
“Phew. I’m not kidding. That was some shock you just gave me.”
Still the girl said nothing, but she smiled at Rita sympathetically and Rita began to feel rather foolish. As the shock began to subside, she realised that she knew the girl.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were back already. Guess you must have had a hell of a journey with all the snow.”
The girl maintained her smile, but her continued silence only added to Rita’s embarrassment; she felt as guilty as a schoolgirl, caught playing hooky.
“Look, I’m sorry I came down here,” she said, recovering somewhat, “You’re not going to believe this; but I actually just came down here to look for a dishwasher.”
The girl’s large pale eyes flicked towards the tall stack of obviously clean dishes that Jeff and Bill had so carefully constructed. Rita could not but follow her gaze.
“Yeah, I know, silly huh? My husband, Jeff, washed them by hand. He did tell me that you didn’t have a machine, but I thought you’d have to have one and so I kinda came down to look for it. But hey, turns out he was right. First time for everything, right?”
She smiled lamely but still the girl said nothing.
“Y’know what?” Rita persisted, “The dishwasher’s not important. I’ll just go back upstairs. Say hi to your folks for me, OK?”
Not waiting for an answer, Rita walked quickly over to the foot of the stairs. As she placed her foot on the first step she jumped, startled, at the girl’s quiet, unmodulated voice.
“It’s in the room with the green door, off the dining room.”
“What is? The dishwasher?” Rita asked, turning back.
The girl nodded.
“Right. Thanks for that…er…What’s your name Honey?”
The girl showed no sign of responding, so Rita tried again.
“I’m Rita,” she smiled, “And you are?”
The girl didn’t seem to understand. Maybe she was a bit slow. Rita shrugged and again turned to leave.
Once more, the quiet voice, “Laura.”
Rita turned back and smiled at the girl.
“Laura? That’s a pretty name. Well, thanks for your help, Laura. And I really am sorry about, y’know, coming down here. See you around, OK?”
Laura smiled and nodded. Rita hurried on up the stairs.
“Ree!”
Rita again jumped, startled this time by Jeff’s call.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, “Why so jumpy?”
“Nothing, only I didn’t know the Cousins had got back and I was downstairs, looking for your damn dishwasher.”
“Aha, been caught snooping have you?”
“Shut up, it’s not funny. It was really embarrassing. And it’s all your fault.”
“How d’you reckon that?”
“Like I said, I was looking for your damn dishwasher.”
Jeff wisely resisted the urge to question his ownership of a non-existent dishwasher.
“And did you find one?” he asked.
“No.”
“Hah!”
“It’s not down there, Mr Smartass, because it’s here.”
“Huh?”
Rita opened the dining room door and pointed,
“It’s in a room over there, through that green door.”
“Makes sense I guess; less distance to carry everything. But, if they keep the plates up here, they won’t be too pleased that Bill and I stacked them all down there in the kitchen.”
“No, it’s OK, there’s a dumb waiter thing that they use to send the cooked food up. They can use it to get the plates back up here.”
“Ah, so you weren’t so embarrassed that you couldn’t stop to quiz them while you were down there?” Jeff laughed.
Rita returned the smile, but said nothing. She was puzzled. How had she known about the dumb waiter? She hadn’t discovered it in her search and she had no recollection of Laura having mentioned it when they were in the basement. And yet now it seemed to Rita that she could recall Laura’s dull, quiet voice explaining where the dumb waiter was. Rita knew it was there; she even had a mental image of it in use.
“I think I’ll go take a nap,” she said, rubbing her temple.
“You OK?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Oh, how was Em?”
“She’s in her room and she doesn’t want to talk. But she sounds OK, far as I can tell. I think you’re right; I’ll let her talk to me in her own time. You sure you’re OK?”
“Yeah, really, I’m fine. I’ll catch you later.”
“Looks like the Cousins have finally made it back,” Jeff announced to the group in the lounge.
“Finally,” echoed Neil, “Now we can get room service and, thank God, we can look forward to having decent meals made for us, by someone who can actually cook.”
“Hey, I think Ree and Dave did a great job,” Jeff countered loyally.
“Very impressive,” Bill agreed.
“It’s OK folks,” Dave said good-naturedly, “I can take it.”
Neil looked bored with them all. He rose from his chair and announced to the room in general, “I’m going to take a bath and I may dress for dinner.”
Dave looked up.
“You feeling OK?”
Neil ignored the question, so Dave got to to his feet and offered his arms for an embrace, but Neil pulled away. The very public rejection left Dave feeling awkward and humiliated. Yet, even as Dave stood in silence, watching him walk away, Neil seemed completely unaware of the effect he had had. Annie, however, thought she caught a momentary glint of pleasure in his eye as he turned away.
The door closed behind Neil, and Dave immediately turned his attention to the floor. His face was burning and he felt ridiculous standing there. Sitting around him, the others also lowered their eyes, sharing his embarrassment. Bill recovered first. He rose and put a consoling hand on Dave’s shoulder.
“Don’t let him get to you. It’s just his way; he can be an A grade shit when it suits him. Takes some getting used to, but he’ll be OK later, you’ll see.”
By the time that Dave was walking slowly back to his room, an hour or so later, he was smiling again. Bill, Jeff and Annie had made a determined effort to cheer him up. They had joked and cajoled until finally Dave felt able to join them, swapping anecdotes, happily relaxed. Out of regard for his feelings, Bill and Jeff refrained from too harsh a criticism of Neil, though Annie made several barbed remarks. For his part, Dave still could not bring himself to think too badly of the man he loved. The others had laughed, but Dave thought it endearing that Neil, the man who had spent the majority of his time here loudly bemoaning the primitive conditions, was even now proposing to dress for dinner as if he were staying at some fancy hotel back in the city.
As he climbed the stairs Dave smiled fondly, deep in thought. Neil was such an engaging mass of weird contradictions. It seemed to Dave that Neil was a man who needed the security of knowing that his life would unfold as he expected. He felt unsettled when actual events deviated from his expectations. With these excuses, and in spite of abundant evidence to the contrary, Dave managed to explain away Neil’s frequent bouts of irascibility. He persisted in the belief that Neil turned a face of bitterness to the world solely as a mask behind which he concealed his deep insecurity; the inner anxiety of the lost, frightened boy within.
This misguided belief made Dave resolute; he would care for Neil and be at his side forever, protecting him and providing the security he secretly, perhaps even unconsciously, craved. Overwhelmed by his feeling of devotion to Neil, Dave’s spirits rose. He was in love and his face glowed with a contented, loving smile.
The smile however was short-lived and slipped from his face as soon as he opened his door. Neil was pacing the room, clearly agitated. He had already helped himself to several shots from the mini-bar and his face was dark with brooding anger.
Having no idea as to what had given rise to this mood, Dave tried a light approach.
“Hey, what’s up man?”
Neil scowled.
“Are you serious?” he snapped.
“Huh?”
“Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong?”
“Yeah man, you look really pissed and I don’t like to see you this way,” Dave’s tone was soothing, “What’s up?”
“I do not enjoy being laughed at. I will not be ridiculed. Is that so very hard to understand?”
“No. But...”
Dave shook his head, mystified.
“The snowman!” Neil hissed.
“The snowman? What about it?”
“You made me look a fool.”
“Oh man, it was a snowman, just to make the kids laugh.”
“So what, now I’m a fucking clown; here to amuse Bill and Annie’s no-neck runts?”
“Whoa man, chill! It was snowing and we had some fun. No big deal,” Dave raised his hands, “And don’t talk about the kids like that. They’re OK. They had fun. I had fun. It was great. No, really. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
“You want to have fun, fine, but not at my expense,” Neil’s tone was icy, “Just leave me out of it.”
For a few moments neither said a word. Then Dave broke the silence.
“Where’s all this come from? You were OK when you left the lounge. Hey no, you weren’t, were you? You pushed me away.”
“I thought I’d made myself clear. I expected you to follow me up. Why did you stay down there so long?”
“We were talking, you know, just relaxed. It was fun. Your friends are OK. I can see why you’ve kept up with them for so long.”
Neil sneered derisively and once again, silence descended between them. Dave watched uneasily as Neil poured another shot and downed it in one mouthful. Then he decided to ask Neil the question that had been bothering him since yesterday evening’s conversation in the lounge.
“Why did you come all the way out here if you hate the country and all these people so much?”
“I don’t hate them.”
“You bitched at them all yesterday evening.”
“It’s what they expect.”
“That’s not how I read it.”
“Well, I naturally defer to your extensive wisdom on the subject. I guess I’ve only known all of them since college, whereas you’ve known them for… I forget… How long is it? Oh, yes, that’s right, one day! What was I thinking? Of course you know better than me what goes on in their heads.”
“You can deny it all you want, but you were not a nice person to be with yesterday evening, especially when you picked on that poor girl. She was just trying to make conversation.”
“Oh yeah,” Neil began to imitate Lou’s high, thin voice, “I think it’s just great that you’re happy bein’ ho-mo-sexual.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is the implicit assumption that it must be difficult, if not impossible, to take pride in being gay because it’s such a disgusting and ungodly perversion.”
“Oh come on.”
“What?”
“She didn’t say anything like that.”
“Implicit, David, I said ‘implicit’. We’re talking subtext here.”
“You look for insult everywhere don’t you? Have you ever stopped to consider that the problem might not be with other people, but with you.”
“Oh, spare me the psycho-babble bullshit, please,” said Neil, pouring himself another drink, this time a double.
“No, I’m serious Neil,” Dave persisted, “I think you’re a deeply unhappy person.”
“Then why not make me happy again by shutting the fuck up?”
Dave was hurt. But he cared for this man, so he persisted.
“Know what man? You’re not always an easy person to love.”
“So don’t love me.”
“Like I have a choice.” said Dave quietly, forcing a smile.
Neil fixed Dave with a cold stare.
“We all have choices.”
Phil had decided that Ethan had had enough exercise and fresh air.
“Lou, go fetch him will you? It’s getting too cold; I reckon it’s gonna snow again.”
Lou hurried over to the playing children, gathered Ethan up in her arms then stopped as something caught her eye. A shape was moving just beyond the edge of the clearing.
“Phil!” she called, not quite a shout, but urgent.
“What is it now?”
He followed her gaze to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Nothing. No, wait, there it was; a movement, something moving towards them, but still within the trees.
“Kids,” Lou shouted, “come back here. Right now!”
Lisa and Mikey picked up the anxiety in her voice. They moved towards her, then turned to look back towards the edge of the clearing as a man stepped out from the cover of the trees.
He wore a battered, leather hat pulled down so low that the watching group were unable to make out his features until he was only a matter of yards away from them. With a tipping back of his head, he looked up.
“Howdy folks. Thought I’d look in on yuh, seein’ as how the road’s blocked an’ I reckon Jack and Karen are gonna be stuck in town awhile longer. Told ‘em I’d keep an eye on you folks if something like this happened. You OK for firewood?”
“What?” asked Phil.
“Firewood, son. You OK for firewood?”
“I guess. I dunno. How should I know?”
The old man fixed Phil with an appraising stare. His face was incredibly wrinkled and his skin brown as tanned hide. He was obviously a good age, but he showed no sign of frailty, with his strong voice and his purposeful manner. His broad chest strained at the buttons of a faded padded jacket which, like him, looked to have seen many winters.
“You should make it yuh business to know, son, ’cause yuh ain’t in the city now an’ a good wood pile can keep you an’ yuh kin alive when winter storms blow in like this. Temperature can drop mighty quick.”
“Is that a fact?” Phil resented being lectured to by this old timer and the irritation showed in his voice, “Well, as we’re only just into the Fall, I don’t think this snow’s gonna last. We’re not gonna be dying of frostbite any time soon, Grandad.”
“Know a lot about life out here do yuh, son?”
Phil stood as erect as possible, arms folded across his chest. He fixed the older man with an obstinate glare.
“Enough.”
“Ha!” the old man laughed, obviously unconvinced.
Sensing Phil’s rising anger, Lou spoke up quickly.
“Have you come all the way from town, Mr…?”
“Spielman, ma’am, Eric Spielman.”
The old man touched the brim of his hat and stared down at Lou.
“No ma’am. I live not far from here. Make a living supplying firewood to the townsfolk, an’ here, to the hotel.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr Spielman, and thanks for looking in on us,” Lou proffered a hand, “I’m Lou and this is Phil.”
Phil grunted an acknowledgement.
“These yours?” asked Spielman, “Don’t mind my sayin’ so, ma’am, but yuh don’t look old enough for to have kids this age.”
“This is my son, Ethan,” said Lou, glowing with pride as the conversation turned to her darling son, “Say hi, Ethan,” she guided the child’s chubby little hand in a clumsy wave, “And these are our friends’ kids.”
Mikey and Lisa stepped out from behind her. They smiled shyly.
The old man seemed to pause as he looked from Lou to the children.
“Is something wrong, Mr Spielman?” Lou asked.
The old man seemed indecisive for a moment, then he grabbed at Lou’s sleeve, the sudden movement taking her by surprise. With an urgency that was not to be questioned, he moved her away from Lisa and Mikey.
Lou resented being pulled along like this, but she’d always been taught to show respect to old people and so felt obliged to accept this strange man’s odd behaviour. She shot a glance at Phil to follow, so he trailed after them, still resentful.
“OK, what’s going on?” Phil demanded, once they were out of earshot of the children.
Spielman pointedly ignored him and spoke only to Lou.
“You know anything ‘bout the history o’ this place, ma’am?”
“No. Should I?”
The old man hesitated, as if trying to decide whether to go on. But Lou had to know.
“What history, Mr Spielman? Please tell us.”
Spielman sighed.
“Goes back a long way. Some say as it goes back to before any people lived here, white or Injun. But I only know for sure of what happened in my time,” he waved his arm, taking in the hotel and its clearing, “This place, the hotel, was built back in the fifties as a bunk house for workers on the dam.”
“Dam? What dam?”
“They were set on floodin’ the forest for miles. Folks said it would’a bin the biggest man-made lake in the world. Hydroelectric. Men came from all over looking for work on the construction. Heck, Losien grew to the size it is today in no more’n two years. But soon after they started work on fellin’ the trees, that’s when things started to happen.”
“What kind of things?” Phil asked, interested now, in spite of himself.
Again, the old man ignored him.
“Some said spirits of the forest bin disturbed. Some said it was spirits o’ the dead Injuns returned for to exact their revenge.”
“Dammit, what revenge? What happened?”
With evident amusement at Phil’s irritation, Spielman shook his head.
“Was a bad business, a bad business,” then he coughed, “But what am I thinkin’? Sun won’t be up more ’an a few hours, I’d best go check the wood pile. If yuh do need any more wood, I’ll bring some when I come back later.”
The look of rising frustration on Phil’s face gave the old man a good deal of pleasure, but Lou also wanted him to say more.
“Please, Mr Spielman,” she begged, “Please tell us what happened. I really need to know.”
Spielman looked down into Lou’s anxious face. Annoying that young moosehead, Phil, was good sport, but this young woman’s eyes were pleading and fearful, and she so reminded him of another girl, from years before. He couldn’t play with her feelings, so at length he relented.
“It was bad,” he said, quietly, glancing around to check that Lisa and Mikey were nowhere near, “Kiddies began to disappear.”
Phil and Lou hurried the kids back into the hotel.
“Why d’we have to come in?” Mikey whined, dragging his feet.
“Because we do, so get indoors!”
Lisa and Mikey had not heard that sharpness in Lou’s voice before. They exchanged glances and shrugged in agreement; adults were strange, it was no use trying to understand them. Resigned, they followed Lou and Phil into the hall. But, once inside, Phil and Lou seemed suddenly to lose all interest in them.
“Go play, you two,” ordered Lou, “Phil and I have something we gotta do.”
“Great! Come on Mikey, let’s go finish the new snowman.”
“No, not outside! Go play in your room.”
The kids’ faces fell, but Lou was not to be swayed.
“Go on. To your room, now.”
“Can’t we come with you? It’s boring just being on our own.”
“No, you can’t,” said Phil, “but you can take Ethan with you.”
Phil prised the toddler from Lou’s reluctant grasp. She looked fiercely into his eyes, but he dismissed her concern with impatience.
“Will you please relax, what’s gonna happen here in the hotel? He’ll be fine with them.”
Lisa and Mikey led Ethan away and Phil opened the door to the lounge for Lou. She swept past him into the room, pointedly ignoring him, her anger plain to Bill, Jeff and Annie. Bill turned back to the chessboard and asked, apparently casually, if everything was OK.
“No,” snapped Lou, “everything is not OK. There’ve been child abductions around here for years. Did you know that?”
The rook slipped from Bill’s hand.
“What? What d’you mean?”
“We met a guy outside-”
“A guy?” asked Jeff, “What guy?”
“A guy who supplies the wood for the hotel.”
“Spielman,” said Phil.
“He found one of them, for God’s sake. He said kids were disappearing since way back.”
“The fifties,” Phil added.
Lou shot him a glare, and continued.
“I don’t care if it was years ago. We should’ve been told about this. I don’t want Ethan to be here. I wanna go home.”
There was a moment’s shocked silence as the others tried to absorb the news. Rising, Annie put out her arms and hugged Lou to her, as she would a child. She could feel the young woman trembling. Whatever the stranger had said had Lou very frightened.
“Shh now. It’ll be OK. Phil, what exactly did this guy say.”
“She’s told you what he said,” said Phil, “Kids disappeared. But it was all a long time ago.”
“They caught the killer?”
“Killer?” asked Jeff, “The kids were killed?”
“I guess.”
“So who was he, the killer?”
“I don’t know. Spielman didn’t say, but like I said, it’s all over now.”
“You saw the way he reacted when he saw the kids,” Lou snapped, “Does it look like he thinks it’s all over?”
“Lou, if he found one of the bodies, he’s bound to be a bit, y’know, freaked.”
“Where’s this guy now?” asked Jeff.
“Who, the killer?”
Annie felt Lou shudder.
“No, Phil, this Spellman guy.”
“Spielman,” Phil corrected, “He’s gone to get some more wood. Said he’d be back later.”