Authors: Greg Herren
I didn’t say anything as my eyes welled up with tears. The wall inside of me shattered in that moment, and I hadn’t realized until then how much I’d been holding back with all of them, how much I’d feared they’d reject me and turn their backs on me. Instead I took another sip of my coffee while I tried to get myself together.
“Of course.” Carson broke the silence finally, slapping his forehead with his hand. “I’m an idiot.”
“Finally he admits it.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’ve been saying it for years.”
He glowered at her. “We’ve been operating under the assumption that Albert’s not at rest, that he’s been trying to communicate through Scotty all this time. I based that on the fact that Albert was murdered. But the voice is calling him, isn’t it? Why would the voice be calling
Albert
if Albert was the spirit trying to communicate with us?”
“Maybe there’s a second ghost?” Teresa suggested.
“Great.” Logan shook his head. “Like one ghost wasn’t enough?”
“I don’t know, but I really don’t think Albert or whoever it is means any harm,” I said slowly. “I don’t get that sense from it, you know? All I get is sadness and loneliness. But then it turns, you know? There’s that other…whatever it is,
that
seems threatening, and I never get that sense from Albert.” I shook my head. “I mean, you’ve heard it. The voice just sounds so pathetic and sad…it just doesn’t seem like it could be threatening.”
“Maybe it was just a dream, Scotty,” Rachel replied. “And maybe it’s tricking you—luring you out with the sadness so it can get to you.” She shuddered. “Ugh, sorry—what a horrible thought.”
“We have to consider every possibility,” Carson insisted. “We can’t refuse to consider something because it’s unpleasant. We can’t rule out the possibility that the spirit—whatever and whoever it may be—might just want to take over Scotty’s body.”
And that pretty much ended the conversation.
But I knew it wasn’t the case—somehow I just knew that the voice didn’t really mean me any harm. Yes, it frightened me, but not because of a sense of threat, but because it was something from beyond my experience. I was also certain there
was
something out there threatening me—that sense of terror was so palpable, I couldn’t be making that up—but it wasn’t the voice. I just knew it.
Just like I knew it was weird that I hadn’t heard from Marc.
After breakfast we were spending the day at Fort Ticonderoga, so I was hoping to have cell service for most of the day at the very least. I kept hoping Marc would call me while we were at the fort, or at least send me a text.
But he didn’t. I kept starting to type out one to him at least a thousand times while we were exploring the fort but canceled them all without sending them.
I couldn’t help but feel something was wrong with him.
We stopped for dinner on the way back, and darkness was already falling by the time we made it up the side of the mountain, back to the lodge. Even though it was only about ten, I was exhausted and begged off doing anything. “I can walk back by myself,” I protested when my dad offered to drive me back. “And it’s not that far.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Carson whispered.
“Seriously,” I replied with a shake of my head. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep that great last night, remember?” I lowered my voice. “I’m okay, really. I just want to go to bed.”
“Okay.”
“’Night, everyone,” I said and walked to the end of the parking lot and started down the road. I thought about taking the shortcut through the woods, but after that dream I didn’t think I wanted to be in the woods by myself. When I went around the curve and started down the mountain, I moved out of the lodge’s outside light and plunged into utter darkness. The sky was full of clouds, and there was no light, no stars or moon above my head. There was nothing but inky blackness.
Just like in my dream.
I froze, unable to walk any farther.
The night was still, there was no sound anywhere other than the wind in the trees.
I no longer could hear any voices from the direction of the lodge—everyone must have gone inside.
I thought about turning around and heading back, pretending like I’d gotten a second wind rather than gotten scared…I couldn’t tell the adults I’d gotten scared because they’d think I was just a baby being afraid of the dark.
“You’re being stupid,” I said out loud, and my voice sounded loud in the silence, loud enough to be unnerving. “You’re just scaring yourself.”
Calm down.
But there is something out there in the woods that wants to hurt me.
“You’re being ridiculous.” I took another step forward. “You’re just keyed up because you haven’t heard from Marc.”
Maybe that was the problem, I told myself, forcing myself to start walking again. The road slanted down, and I found myself moving really quickly.
“Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-tiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee.”
The sound surrounded me, like it was coming from every direction, and I stifled a scream. Every hair on my body was standing up, and the Thai food I’d had for dinner was churning in my stomach. Every instinct I had told me to run as fast as I could back to the safety of the lodge, that I was crazy for trying to walk back to my cabin alone, I could always curl up and sleep on the sofa in the game room and who cared if the adults thought I was being a baby or childish or whatever, anything was better than being alone out here on the road in the dark.
“Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-tiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee.”
“Who—who’s there?” I called out, my voice shaking almost as much as I was, repeating over and over to myself that maybe Logan or someone had come out to walk me back, not wanting me to be alone out there with whatever it was, how could I have been so stupid as to come out here alone…
I heard another sound, different from the voice, coming from the woods to my left. A twig snapped, the sound of a bush being brushed aside as someone—or something—walked past.
“Hello?”
I started walking again, my legs shaking so much that my knees almost gave with every step. I was breathing hard and fast and knew if I didn’t get calm, I was going to hyperventilate. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. My teeth were chattering, my lips trembling, and my eyes were filling with tears of sheer terror. I kept moving forward and almost sobbed in relief when I saw the yellow light from the back deck of our cabin. I half walked, half ran off the road and across the back lawn to the cabin, shakily putting my key into the lock of the door to my bedroom.
“Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-tiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee.”
Now, in the light, I wasn’t as frightened as I had been in the darkness.
I closed my eyes and pushed the fear aside, and opened my mind.
There was a weird feeling of exaltation for just a moment, and then it was like I was being filled up on the inside, my mind was being pushed aside as something else was getting inside of me, inside my head and my mind.
I fell back against the door and slid down to the deck.
And the darkness faded…and it was daylight again.
I got to my feet and walked down the steps to the path. The sun was out, was high, it was close to noon, and I started walking, my underarms sweating. I wasn’t wearing a shirt, it was tossed over my one shoulder, and I was hungry, really hungry, and I wanted to get back to the cabin—
—I didn’t want to eat with the family up at the lodge, I didn’t feel quite so safe there as I used to or as welcomed, Mrs. Tyler of course hadn’t changed, she was just as friendly and nice as she always was, always doing her best to make me feel like I was a part of the family, but I had some fresh bread there and some chicken in the icebox, I was going to need to get more ice the next time I went down into town, best not to forget or everything would spoil, and I kept walking and I was happy, so I started whistling as I walked, it was a gorgeous day and blessed was I to be alive on such a gorgeous day, I had my health and I was young and strong and lucky, very lucky because I’d found love even if it was the wrong kind of love, the kind of love that had gotten me run out of Boston, but how could love be wrong, love was a sign of favor from God, wasn’t it, and then I came around the curve in the path and he was down there, I could see him chopping wood, his broad strong back muscles flexing and moving as he swung the ax, and my heart swelled with so much love it felt like it could almost burst and then—
—and I opened my eyes and I was back in the forest, and it was night again, it was pitch-black and I felt terror, absolute stark raving terror because I didn’t know how I’d gotten there, and there was something out there in the darkness, and it wanted me, I could feel the hate and cold emanating from it,
hatred,
it wanted to destroy me and kill me, and I stifled a scream and turned to run back up the path.
But I stumbled, tripping on a root or something, and I let out a half cry as I fell, hitting the ground so hard that the breath was knocked out of me and my head struck something hard and stars danced in front of my eyes and I could hear it over my labored breathing, I couldn’t catch my breath but whatever it was it was coming, it was coming for me and it was cold and evil and it wanted to kill me, and I got to my hands and knees and started scrambling for safety, absolutely terrified it was going to get me, whatever it was wanted me dead, it hated me with an intensity I could feel, and then I could breathe again and I was standing straight up and running, and the tears were running down my face and I was sobbing, sobbing with sadness and fear and terror, absolute terror, and it was going to get me, I wasn’t going to get away…
“Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-tiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee.”
And I heard the voice, echoing through the trees sadly, that hollow sorrow filling me and surrounding me, and suddenly I could see the yellow light again, and the voice kept calling.
“Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-tiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee.”
And I stumbled out of the woods and across the lawn, made it up the steps and collapsed, sobbing and breathing hard, on the deck. And the sense of evil wasn’t there anymore, I’d managed to somehow get away from it, and I was safe.
For now.
The keys were still dangling in the deadbolt, and somehow I managed to get the deadbolt turned, and I stumbled inside, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me.
I staggered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.
My eyes were wide open and bloodshot, my skin so pale it was almost bluish.
I filled up a glass with cold water and gulped it down.
My hands shaking slightly, I brushed my teeth and washed my face again.
I walked back out into the bedroom.
The dark was out there, outside the windows.
I walked around, pulling down blinds and closing curtains.
I didn’t want to know what was out there, if anything.
I sat down on the bed and covered my face in my hands.
Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe I was losing my mind.
But I was willing to swear on a stack of Bibles that just minutes ago it had been broad daylight in the woods.
What was going on? What was happening to me?
Remembering what Carson had said, I got out my iPad, opened a note, and with trembling fingers started typing out what had just happened to me.
When I was finished, I saved it and closed my tablet, putting it down on the nightstand. I slowly got undressed and got under the covers.
I didn’t turn out the light—I didn’t want to let the dark into the bedroom with me.
I knew it was crazy but didn’t care.
And, somehow, I managed to fall asleep.
“Maybe I am losing my mind.” I laughed bitterly. “Anything would be better than this.”
We were all sitting on the porch of the lodge after breakfast the next morning. Somehow I’d managed to get some sleep, even though it seemed like I kept waking up every five minutes. Even when I was asleep, it was that horrible half sleep where I felt like all I had to do was open my eyes and I’d be awake. When I heard my mother moving around in the kitchenette, I’d finally given up and gotten out of bed. I’d had two cups of coffee with her before grabbing my iPad and heading up to the lodge. I’d deliberately taken the shortcut through the woods, just to see if anything would happen.
Nothing did, of course.
I let everyone read my write-up of what I’d experienced last night while we had breakfast, and once we were finished we moved outside to the porch. Our parents had set off for the lake to go kayaking—when asked to join them, we’d all said no because we wanted to go hiking in the woods. That was the cover story Carson had come up with.
The truth was, Carson wanted to go look for the place where Albert’s body had been found over a hundred years earlier. I wasn’t so certain it was a great idea, myself, but I also didn’t want to look like I was a coward—and there would be safety in numbers, I figured.
“I don’t think so,” Carson replied, scratching his chin. “For one thing, people who are losing their minds generally don’t think they are, you know. They think they’re completely sane. And you keep forgetting—we’ve all heard the voice calling. If not for that, yeah, I’d say it was a much greater possibility. And I really don’t think it’s a collective hallucination.” He smiled at me, flipping my iPad closed and handing it back over to me. “I also don’t think there’s a more logical explanation for what’s happening. We’ve pretty much ruled everything out except the supernatural.”
“Besides, if you were actually going crazy, you’d have been experiencing it before you got here,” Rachel went on. “And there wasn’t anything, was there? You weren’t seeing or hearing things at home you haven’t told us about, were you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Everything at home was normal. The summer was almost ridiculously boring, to be honest. The only thing that changed was—well, you know what changed.” In the distance, I could see our parents on the dock, putting the kayaks into the lake. I sighed and leaned against the rough-hewn railing. “And being gay isn’t a mental illness.”
“No one said it was,” Teresa replied, frowning. “You keep acting like we’re homophobic or something, Scotty. It’s irritating and it’s unfair and it’s not true.” She folded her arms. “We’re not, so get over yourself, okay? And it’s not like that’s going to help us figure out what’s going on with you.”
“Exactly,” Logan chimed in, a scowl on his face. “It’s almost like you’re doing it for attention.”
“What? I’m sorry—that’s not what I meant, really. I was just saying…” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I looked at Logan, who had the decency to blush and look away. Carson was staring at his hands, Rachel was fiddling with her phone, and only Teresa was looking right at me. “Is that what you all think? That I’m doing this for attention?” My head was spinning and the eggs and sausage I’d had for breakfast were churning in my stomach. “Wow. Just wow.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Wow,
I thought, getting up out of my chair and blindly walking off the porch, heading down the long lawn in the direction of the lake. I heard Teresa call my name but I ignored her. Fuck her, fuck all of them. I didn’t bother trying to stop the tears, letting them run down my face.
I am sooooo sorry to have disrupted your vacation with my stupidity and my self-absorption and my problems. Well fuck every last one of you, I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone and I won’t interfere with your precious vacation any more, okay?
I could see the three kayaks making their way out away from the shore as I walked. I felt hurt, angry, betrayed. My phone started buzzing in my pocket as I got closer to the dock. My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped it when I pulled it out of my shorts pocket. I stopped walking and ran my finger across the screen to unlock it.
And there it was, a text from Marc. Dated last night.
Sorry man dad took our phones things have been crazy lately miss you marc.
I was so relieved I didn’t stop myself from sitting down hard in the grass as my knees buckled.
Thank you, God,
I thought as I reread the message over and over again. I hadn’t realized until then just how worried about him I’d been.
I wiped at my eyes and took a deep breath.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m just being a big old drama queen and all of this was triggered out of my worry about Marc?
But that didn’t make any sense.
I didn’t want to risk moving and losing the cell signal, so I touched the screen to reply and typed quickly
hope everything is okay I miss you be home on Sunday hang in there buddy.
I hated that I couldn’t say that I loved him, that I wanted to kiss him and hug him, tell him how lonely I was without being able to see his face and his adorable smile every day.
But if his father saw it…I didn’t even want to think about what that would trigger in his dad. I looked out at the lake and saw my parents paddling their kayak, perfectly in sync.
I’m so lucky I have the parents I do,
I thought.
So very, very lucky.
I touched the little send button, and my phone made the whooshing sound that meant the message had been sent.
“Hey, Scotty, I’m sorry,” Teresa said as she sat down next to me. “Logan shouldn’t have said that, and I sure as hell didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Tentatively, she put her arm around my shoulders. “I love you—we all do, Scotty. We’re like family.” She squeezed me, and I put my head down on her shoulder, resisting the urge to just start bawling my head off. “We’re all worried about you, you know. Not because you’re gay, but…” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “There’s so much hatred out there for gays, Scotty. And all this crazy shit that’s been happening ever since we got here…” She swallowed. “My first thought when you told me was…you know, about the bullying and everything…”
“It’s okay, Teresa, I overreacted, I’m kind of all wound up,” I replied, pulling up a few blades of grass and tossing them up in the air. The wind caught them and carried them away. “Logan was just being honest—and I haven’t been. I should have told you guys that Albert looked like Marc. I should have told you guys about the emotions I experienced whenever I was seeing whatever it was Albert wanted me to see. I just was afraid, you know? I was afraid you guys would think I was making it all up.”
“That Albert was gay?” she said quietly. “I kind of figured that out, from when you told us.”
“That’s just it, I don’t know that Albert
was
gay.” I sighed. “I’m
seeing
Albert, and you know, when I see him, I have all of these feelings—not just love but the sadness, and then the fear sometimes, too. I don’t know, Teresa.”
“Tell me about Marc,” she said, squeezing me again. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“It’s been about a year—actually, we had our first kiss the night we got back from Sanibel last year.” I grinned. “I’ve had a crush on him since I first met him, but I never dreamed…I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have him like me back, you know?” I looked at my phone and smiled at the message again. “I heard from him finally—he texted me last night, and I just got it. He’s okay.” I sat there for a moment, staring at the message.
“He really does look like Albert—it’s uncanny,” she said, pulling out her phone and fiddling with it for a moment. She used her fingers to expand an image of Albert. She put hers down and took mine, doing the same thing to the picture of Marc until his face filled the screen of my phone. She put the two phones next to each other and smiled at them, satisfied. “It really is uncanny,” she said, turning the phones to me so I could see them. “I took a picture of the article in the case at the historical society yesterday, in case we want to read it again,” she explained.
“That was smart,” I said as I stared at the two phones. The picture of Marc had started to blur a bit as she’d made it larger so she could get a close-up of the face, but it was clear enough. The brown sepia photograph she’d expanded on her own phone was clearer, but the resemblance was uncanny. There were, of course, slight differences—Albert looked rather glum in his photo, so I couldn’t tell if he had dimples like Marc’s, and his lips seemed a little thinner. The hair was different, obviously—Marc wore his cut pretty short—and Marc’s face seemed a little more fleshed out than Albert’s. They could have been twins. “It’s pretty spooky,” I said, unable to take my eyes away from the pictures on the two screens. “Albert looks more like Marc than his own sister does.”
“I wonder…” She cut herself off and took her phone back from me.
“What?”
She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know—I kind of have a theory, but I don’t know if I want to say anything until I’ve looked some more stuff up.” She looked out at the lake. “I read this book—it was fiction, but the story is kind of similar to what’s going on here. And with the pictures…” She shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll say anything until I know more, you know? There’s more than enough crazy theories floating around.”
“To say the least,” I replied. “I know I shouldn’t have lost it up there, but it’s a bit much. And I don’t mean what Logan said, either. This whole thing.” I bit my lower lip. “It’s a bit much to take to begin with, and everyone’s being cool for the most part, but it would be nice if Carson didn’t keep forgetting that I’m a person, not just some experiment for that stupid TV show.”
“He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s concerned for you, like we all are.” She lightly kissed my cheek. “We’re all scared, Scotty, and it’s not really happening to us. I can’t imagine how scared you must be.”
I smiled at her. “I love you, Teresa.”
“We’ll get this all figured out.” She laughed. “And even if we don’t—we’re only going to be here until the weekend. I’m pretty sure Albert’s ghost can’t follow you back to Chicago.”
I laughed and looked down at the lake. I could hardly see the kayaks—they were almost to the far side of Lake Thirteen. “I sure hope not,” I replied. “I don’t want to share Marc with anyone.”
We both laughed, and I closed my eyes and thought back, trying to remember all the times I’d seen Albert—swinging the ax, swimming in the stream farther down the mountain, the emotions I’d felt.
“And for the record, Logan was way out of line,” she said gently. “There’s no way you could have fixed things so that there would be these pictures of Albert looking like Marc’s twin, or like he could be Marc’s brother. Logan was being a dickhead, and when we get back up to the lodge I’m sure he’ll apologize.” She patted my leg. “And don’t you think they’re all going to freak out just a little bit when they see how much Albert and Marc look alike?” She stood up and brushed off the back of her shorts. She smiled at me as I stood up and hooked her arm through mine. “So, tell me more about Marc.”
As we walked up the slanted lawn back to the porch, I told her everything—about how Marc and I first met, how we became friends, when I first realized I was attracted to him, how our first kiss came about.
“His dad sounds awful,” she commented as we went up the three steps to the porch.
“You have no idea,” I said, rolling my eyes “Hey, everybody.” I gave them a feeble smile. “Sorry I got so mad. I know you’re all trying to help and—”
“Dude, I’m sorry,” Logan said quickly. He grabbed my hand and shook it, hard, before pulling me into a hug. “I—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I cut him off, extricating myself from his bear hug. Logan had no idea how strong he was, really—he’d been squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe.
“Guys, check this out.” Teresa put her hand out for my phone, and I handed it to her. I wandered inside while she showed them the two pictures, getting a Coke out of the cooler. When I walked back out, Rachel was holding both phones, staring at them in disbelief.
“I’m beginning to think there’s more to this than just a haunting,” Carson mused. “The resemblance is really amazing. I wonder…” his voice trailed off.
“What?” Rachel demanded.
“I wonder if we found a picture of Robert Shelby—surely we’ll be able to find one…” He got up and walked over to the railing. “Does anyone—would anyone rather drive into town than go out in the woods? I’m thinking we can accomplish more if we split up.”
“I’ll go into town,” Rachel said quickly. She made a face. “I got eaten up by mosquitoes the last time, I’m not looking forward to that happening again. And, you know, snakes.” She shuddered.
“I’ll go with her,” Teresa said. “I’m not big on snakes, either. I’m sure there’s something you want us to look for in town. Maybe a picture of Robert Shelby?”
“I want you to go to the library and look up all the articles about the murder,” Carson directed. “I especially want to see if you can find any pictures of him—let’s hope we get lucky and there are some. But having your picture taken back then wasn’t as commonplace as it is today—not everyone had cameras back then. But also see what else you can find out—if they ever found Shelby, anything you can about the Tyler family.”
“All right. Miss Tyler said the library had an archive of the newspaper, which is probably the only record we’ll be able to find. I’ll see if they have a copy of that book about the murder, too,” Teresa said, and Logan handed her the car keys. She looked at Rachel. “You ready?”
Rachel got up with a nod. “Yeah. You guys be careful, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.” The two of them disappeared around the side of the lodge. A few moments later, there was the sound of a car’s engine starting, and then we saw the SUV heading down the road in the direction of town.
“I talked to Annie about how to find the creek,” Logan said. He still seemed a little subdued, so I smiled at him. “She said the easiest thing to do is find Beaver Pond, and it’s on the far side.” He swallowed. “And you find Beaver Pond by following the trail past the wrecked cabin. She said there are signs farther along the path, the deeper you get into the woods.” He pulled a compass out of his pocket. “And she gave me this, just in case we get lost.”