Logan
Logan opened his eyes. He was no longer in the thick, dark forest. He was inside, sitting at a kitchen table, staring out the window. The lights were bright inside. Outside a hint of daylight started to peak through the fading clouds.
He looked around the kitchen. It was small, like the one in his parents’ cabin on Big Sandy Lake. On the opposite side of the room was a white General Electric refrigerator. It was old and had a silver handle that could be pulled out from the door. One of Logan’s neighbors had disposed of a refrigerator just like it in their back alley.
The sink was to the right of the refrigerator, with three cupboards overhead. Below Logan’s feet was a musty, worn out carpet.
He blinked his eyes three times, trying to regain his wits. The last thing he remembered was being circled by a ghostly figure in the middle of the forest. Jenny was beside him then.
He looked around the kitchen again. He was alone. Where had Jenny gone? Where had she been taken?
Logan stood up quickly, knocking his chair over. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea who or what had brought him here. But he knew he had to find Jenny and get back to Pine Ridge.
A wooden swinging door closed the kitchen off from the rest of the house. Logan made his way to the exit. He put his hand on the door and eased it open slowly. On the other side of the door was a small, square-shaped living room. The furnishings consisted of two kitchen chairs and a small end table pushed up against the wall. It looked as if someone had come in and stolen all of the furniture from the home.
On the table was a small lamp. It emitted a dim light, which, combined with dawn’s sunlight, created an eerie, shadowy tone within the room. Directly under the lamp was a bowl of rocks. They were all different sizes, colors, and shapes and looked to be handpicked. A collection maybe.
There was no carpet in the room. Just an old stained hardwood floor. On the wall was a crooked painting of an older man with two younger men sitting in chairs below him. The two younger individuals looked like the man’s sons, but Logan couldn’t be sure of that.
He stepped further into the living room. He was still alone. No dark specter. No Jenny.
A door was opened a crack on the far side of the room. After a closer look, Logan realized that it was a bathroom.
Logan wasn’t sure where else to look. The home was small and, as far as he knew, he had seen it all. “Jenny?” he spoke softly, hoping she was nearby. When there was no response, he called again a bit louder this time. “Jenny? Are you here?”
Silence.
Another door was framed on the far wall. “That must lead outside,” Logan whispered to himself.
He moved toward the door. As he reached out his hand to pull the handle, he heard the faint cry of a girl’s voice.
“Logan.”
It had to be Jenny. She was calling from outside.
He grabbed the handle of the door, but pulled his hand away. It was hot. Scorching hot. He held his hand under his left armpit to ease the pain. Then he pulled the sleeve of his coat over his left hand and tried opening the door again. No luck. It seemed to be even hotter now.
Even though he could move about the cabin freely, he was being held prisoner. How would he get out? He needed to help Jenny. She could be in trouble.
He paced along the side of the home, close to the outer wall. Heat resonated along the perimeter. He leaned in closer. It felt as if the wall was on fire. The entire building was laced with intense heat. There was no way out.
Logan backed away from the wall, moving toward the center of the living room. He no longer heard Jenny’s voice. What could he do to escape? Although his gloves were in his coat pockets, his palms were still sweaty with fear.
Logan paced back and forth, the floor creaking with every step. He realized that although the walls were too hot to touch, the floor was not. He spun around and moved back toward the front door. As he approached the door, the sound of the hardwood below him suddenly changed from a low, steady creaking, to a high-pitched squeak.
Logan looked down. His right foot stood in the center of four grooves that formed a perfect square. Bending to floor level, he reached out his hand to feel the shape below him, and then he stopped. Logan grabbed his gloves from his coat pocket and slid one on his right hand. With his gloved hand, he reached down and carefully touched his fingertips to the floor. He had to be sure he wouldn’t get burnt again.
The floor wasn’t hot, at least not with his glove on. Logan took off the glove and then touched the wood square again. It didn’t burn his hand.
“There has to be a way out of here,” Logan said.
He pushed on the floorboards, hoping the square was a trap door. It didn’t budge. He pushed harder and harder, exerting all of his energy. It was no use. The square wouldn’t move.
Logan sat back, breathing hard. He scanned the cabin. Then shouted, “Let me out of here! Whoever you are, let me out of here!”
Nothing. “Okay. Calm down Logan. There has to be a way out of this place. There is always a solution to every problem. Solve the problem. Solve the problem.” He looked down. Below his feet a light shined. A small glimmer found its way through the grooves in the wooden square. The floor had moved after all.
Logan put both of his gloves on to protect his hands from the pressure of the floorboards. With renewed hope, he pushed on the square again. He could feel it creeping downward. The light became brighter and brighter with each shove of Logan’s hands.
Logan took another break. His arms were tired and his hands, despite the protection of his gloves, were sore. He pulled the water bottle from his coat pocket and took a drink. The cool, wet liquid felt good on his dry throat.
After putting the bottle back in his pocket, Logan took a deep breath, gathered all his strength, and with both hands shoved the floorboards down as hard as he could. The floor snapped opened and Logan grabbed the edges of the grooves to keep himself from falling through. Below the floor was dirt with a few scattered patches of snow. It was morning now, but shadows kept the ground dark. “Where does this go?”
Logan peeked his head through the hole in the floor. Looking left, he saw the underside of a rickety porch extending just beyond the door above.
He pulled his head back into the home. “Why is this trap door here? Why would there be a way out when I’m trapped here in every other way? It doesn’t make sense.” But he had no choice. He had to get out and going through the floor was his only chance.
He braced himself with his hands on either side of the trap door. Gravity pushed him through the opening, but he was able to use his strength to slowly lower himself to the ground.
When his feet touched the dirt below, he got to his hands and knees to crawl underneath the porch. A lattice barrier surrounded the bottom perimeter of the porch. Directly ahead of him were the stairs leading from the front door. How am I going to get out of here without breaking through the wood?
Logan inched his way forward, careful not to sit up too high. When he got to the edge of the porch, he looked through the holes of the lattice. A large clearing was directly in front of him. The front yard had been cleared of trees. Jenny is out there somewhere, he thought. He grabbed the lattice and shook it, trying to pry it loose. It was solidly intact.
Logan scooted around to face the outer edges of the barrier. He crawled along the edge of the porch looking for an escape. When he reached the corner, he turned to the left and stopped. In the very back corner was a cracked piece of lattice. Logan scurried to it, feeling the hard, rough ground scrape his knees.
Grabbing the broken wood with both hands, he pulled with all his strength. The wood snapped in two, leaving a small opening in the lattice. “I still can’t fit through this.”
He shook the other pieces of wood and found that they were loose. Laying on his back and pressing both feet to the weakened lattice, he pushed. Two other pieces of wood snapped. “This might be big enough now.”
Logan stuck his head through the opening first. Then he flipped himself over on his back to pull the rest of his body through. He grimaced as the shattered pieces of wood scraped along his body. When his legs and feet cleared the hole, he collapsed on the ground.
Logan looked toward the cabin. From the front, the home looked small, just as it had when he was inside. The porch was wide and had a wooden railing wrapped around it. Two brown wicker chairs sat on the floor of the veranda. The roof of the cabin was made of birch bark and it angled slightly downward over the porch.
He stood, looking at all sides of the building. Extending out from the kitchen was an addition made of thick logs. It was as large as the original home. The color of the wood was slightly less worn, making it clear that it was not part of the original structure. There must have been another exit out of the kitchen, Logan thought. How did I miss it? And If someone really wanted to keep me prisoner here, why was I able to go through the floor? Why wasn’t that hot too? What am I missing?
The only thing he knew was that he was free and he had to find Jenny.
He ran to the clearing in front of the house, looking all around him. Then he turned back, wanting to circle to the back of the cabin. Before he reached the trees, he stopped. A burning sensation overcame him. The kind of burning you feel after standing next to a blazing fire for an hour.
Logan had only been standing there a few seconds when directly in front of him violent flames appeared, towering over him. He backed up quickly, retreating toward the middle of the clearing. Logan turned to his left, hoping to find another escape route, but the flames were everywhere. The entire front yard of the cabin was surrounded by fire. It formed a circle, trapping Logan in the middle. They seemed to be taunting him, laughing at him.
Now Logan understood why he was able to leave the house. There was no easy escape after all.