Kevin was not happy. He peered over the edge of the plow on his pickup at the Jeep parked a ways off the road . He wanted to keep driving just and go home, but his conscious got the better of him and he turned back. Besides, this wasn't the first time.
Any tracks had long since been covered, but he had a pretty good idea where they were headed. He grabbed his emergency snowshoes from the behind the seat and headed up the creek.
Kevin was exhausted himself when he came out if the ravine and up onto Cemetery Rock. The wind was intense now and the snow was even becoming difficult for his snowshoes. Each step he had to pack two or three times before stepping forward. He’d be in trouble himself if he didn’t find this idiot soon.
He called and listened, called and listened, clapping his gloves together occasionally to save his voice.
Then he heard something. It wasn’t a voice though. At first he figured it was just laden branches breaking under the weight of the snow, but it kept going, and at a regular pace.
Kevin shuffled on his snowshoes at a trot towards the sound. He had to stop once or twice to get a better fix. The sound was becoming slower and weaker. He had to hurry before it stopped altogether.
Nothing.
It was close.
“Hello?”
“Keep making the sound so I can find you.”
“Just one more.”
“Just give me one, c’mon, you can do it.”
Smack!
The sound was just to his right. He shuffled to a tree and saw a darkish shadow underneath. He fought through the branches and kneeled on his snowshoes. He pulled her from the tree and in an awkward backwards knee shuffle, he dragged her from under the snarl of branches.
He got down close to her face. In the last of the twilight he could see her reddened cheeks and dripping nose, he could also make out large brown eyes and a beautiful face. It was a face he knew well in his mind, but had never seen with his eyes. How could this be?
“White Christmas my ass,” she whispered shaking her head, “watch what you wish for.”
Karen’s eye’s fluttered and closed.
Monday December 21st
Ultimately it was the quiet that made Karen’s sleep uneasy. She was no city girl, but there had always been a street or highway nearby. The complete silence was unsettling. Her eye’s slowly opened. She was in a beautiful room lying in a four-poster bed. Her eyes closed and a satisfied smile arrived on her face. She scooped up an warm armful of down comforter and pulled it close. What a nice dream.
After a moment her eyes shot open. She wasn’t dreaming. The last memories of the night before came crashing back at her. The blizzard the riddle, the… Angel type dude?
“Where the hell am I?” She said as she propped herself up for a better look around. “Hello?”
There was nearly nothing in the room that made it easy to accept it as real. Shining hardwood floors covered in oriental carpets, an antique dresser and night tables meticulously restored. The was a stone fireplace in the far side of the room with a finished log mantel laden with more antiques, and while the fire wasn’t currently roaring, it had clearly been attended during the night. The outside walls were that of a log cabin polished smooth. The inside walls were painted a deep maroon and taupe trim. The space was a perfect blend of rustic charm, comfort and feminine touches. Things like French doilies on the dresser, a geisha girl doll under a dome of glass and 19th century botany lithographs of flowers and seeds. Perhaps the only thing that suggested the waking world were the windows that looked out on the blazing white results of last night’s blizzard. The lace curtains on them were quite lovely though.
“Hello?... Reality?”
Reality then knocked on the door.
“Come in?” she said cautiously.
Karen watched the door swing open with a quaint little creak. A tray came into the room and attached to it was a rather attractive man. It was at that moment that Karen noticed what she was wearing….
Exactly the same clothes she had been in last night, minus her parka, boots and gloves.
“Uh hi. You, um, left me in my clothes?”
“Yep. Lucky me; nearly no chance of a sexual harassment lawsuit.” And thank God too. This whole thing is already a minefield of cliche. And here I am with a tray of breakfast. This could only be worse if I happened to be a pirate. I was thinking of just eating this in front of you to save face, but you need to eat some food.”
“Where am I?” Karen said pulling the tray close and surveying the sumptuous hot breakfast in front of her.
“On the property you were trespassing on. Namely mine. ”
“I didn't see any signs.”
“This is Montana, you’re always trespassing.”
“And who are you?”
“Kevin.”
“Well Kevin, first, thanks for… bringing me in last night. I'm not sure what might have happened if you hadn't come along. “
“I didn't exactly come along. I saw your Jeep with the North Dakota plates and knew you were in over your head. “
Karen felt her defenses bristle, but she took a breath and continued.
“Secondly, I apologize for ‘trespassing’ as you say, and for any inconvenience I might have caused.”
He pulled a wicker bottom chair from a quaint table set by one of the windows and sat in it backwards. He positioned himself by the door as if ready to make a hasty exit.
“Your welcome, and no problem… I think.”
“You think?” Karen said around a piece of bacon.
“I would like to know what you were doing. Closest trail head is five miles. You’re out here with no rifle, no gear and apparently no outdoor skills, especially when it comes to reading the weather.”
Karen sat up straighter in bed.
“I have skills. I know weather, kind of. I was just focussed on…”
“On stalking?”
“No, you mean you think I? No!”
“I don’t know what to think. Help me out.”
“I wasn’t stalking you, that’s for sure,” Karen said quickly.
“Capital! Who then?”
“I don't see how that's any of your…”
Kevin just stared at her.
“Well, it’s a bit. Can't we just?...”
He continued to stare.
“Alright fine. Ever heard of Fanny Arbuckle?”
Kevin’s expression remained blank.
“ ‘Persephone?’ ‘Nomads of Slorn’ the ‘Temple’ series?”
“No. “
“ ‘Heartland Incorporated’?”
“No.”
“ ‘The Jewels of Nebraska’?”
“No.”
“Never heard of any of those?”
“Nope.”
“Oh, the movie ‘Skylark’? You must know that one. Nicolas Cage? Patton Oswalt?”
“Never saw it. Heard it was crap.”
“They did kinda wreck it, the book was so much better, though Fanny did write the screenplay.”
“So that's who you're stalking, this Fanny person?”
“No! Well not really, you see, she wrote this riddle into one of her books. I solved it and it led me here.”
“I'll bet she regrets that. Probably why she moved.”
“So you do know her,” Karen said.
“No, she just not here obviously.”
“Not in this house maybe.”
“Everyone knows everyone here.”
Karen felt foolish. She was happy and grateful to be alive, but frankly she just wanted to die. Here she was, in the bed of her rescuer, not at all hard on the eyes and possibly well-off if the surroundings were any clue. And now she had been outed as a silly fan-girl and, she had to admit it now, effectively, a stalker.
“Well I can't thank you enough for the breakfast and, ya know, saving my life and everything, but I’m feeling fine now, so if you'll kindly show me to my coat and boots, and the door, I’ll be on my way back to my car and out of your hair.”
“Last night didn't make you any smarter did it?” Kevin said.
“What?.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Karen pulled the comforter up instinctively.
“I beg your…”
“I'm not going anywhere either," he continued. “We're snowed in… Kind-of a lot.”
It might be days before the roads were clear enough to get their cars out from where they were parked down further in the valley, he explained. The phones and the power were out as well, but the ranch had it’s own backup generators, and woodstoves and fireplaces and a stock of food, perishable and non, that would last them as long as needed.
He offered her some clean clothes: one of his T-shirts that had a picture of one of the robots from “Mystery Science Theater 3000”, “MST3K”, he called it, and gray sweatpants. His slippers were a bit too roomy to walk around in without stumbling, but thick pair of wool socks proved to be all the foot cover she needed. The guest bedroom where she had woken up lead to a walkway open to the large main room below. Log-styled leather seating focussed on the fireplace. There were no TVs or video game consoles... or family pictures.
The kitchen was to the rear, under some of the other upstairs rooms. It’s design was more modern and functional, but still homey and comfortable.
The coffee was strong, but it was a welcome boost. She stood by the window in the kitchen and pondered the world outside her magnificent prison.
She had arrived at night and the day before had been overcast, and then an all out blizzard. She was seeing Montana for the first time. Each part of the scene before her left her more breathless than the last. It was so much more beautiful than her dreams.
Sunlit snow crystals came up to the bottom of the window. The backyard was a seamless virgin blanket of snow rounding over unknown objects. And, were those possibly buildings? Beyond that was a forest of evergreen. She looked up past it to cream dollop foothills and beyond that an incredible snow dusted ridge of rock so high she had to get close to the glass to see the top of it. Above it all was the bluest clearest sky Karen had even seen.
There was no bad view from the ranch house. The view from the main room was to the East. The opening sides of the canyon framed the immense valley like a Bob Ross painting. Lower foothills in the foreground, gentle sloping meadows the size of counties it seemed. More distant mountain ranges accented the horizon with streams of snow blowing off them in sweeping brush strokes. The view seemed to go on all the way to the Mississippi and all of it had been baptized in the same untouched snow. The peace of it all was surreal to Karen as it was the same world out there that had tried to kill her the night before.
The beauty formed a tear in the corner of her eye, the first in a long time not to have come from pain and heartache. Perhaps it was the near death experience that enhanced her senses, but she couldn’t imagine the most jaded bitter soul not being taken aback by this place.
She wanted to share it with someone so badly she could burst. Of course, there was always Mr. Personality.
Kevin came in the kitchen door with an armful of wood. He had barely said a word since that morning and had spent most of his time in unknown rooms.
Karen spent the rest of the day napping and looking out the windows wondering if it was all real.
If nothing else there were lot of books, shelves of them in nearly every room. She looked them over but it was clear they had different tasks in literature. Lots of history, biographies, heady novels, an entire wall of old National Geographics. There was some science fiction, very little adventure, no romance whatsoever.
This was definitely not Fanny Arbuckle’s house.
Tuesday December 22nd
“So I guess you don’t celebrate Christmas,” Karen said to break the silence at breakfast.
“Not really.”
“Jewish?”
“No.”
“Muslim?”
“No.”
“...Buddhist?”
“No. I was Lutheran, growing up.” He said. “I just don’t celebrate Christmas.”
“Didn’t get that puppy you wanted?”
Karen immediately regretted her sarcasm. She braced for a stiff retort, but instead his face softened.
“No, I got divorced. I used to be a kind-of a Christmas junky actually, but…”
“How long ago? The divorce I mean.”
“Three years.”
“Maybe you will be again. A Christmas junky I mean.”
His eyes remained on his shoes outstretched before his chair.
“I doubt it, maybe.”
After he cleared the dishes, Kevin disappeared outdoors somewhere leaving her to the heavenly views and the shelves and shelves of books.
Kevin stopped in his tracks when he entered the kitchen later that day. The table was a battlefield of arts and crafts.
“I got bored,” Karen said.
Before her on the table Karen had cut the maps she had printed out for her quest into thin strips and cut the strips into shorter strips. She looped then with tape she had found to make paper a chain.
Kevin froze for a moment.
“Don’t worry, it’s for my room. I needed some sort of Christmas decoration.”
Kevin continued to the fridge.
“I like them. The green of the satellite maps on one side and the white of the paper on the other, looks… pretty.”
Karen looked up with her eyes only.
“Thanks.”
“We can print out more maps if you like, ya know if you wanted put some out here too,” he said without turning around.
“That’ll be hard without internet won’t it?”
“Who says I don’t have Internet? I just don’t have the satellite transceiver or the network turned on”
“Wait, You mean my family has been worrying about me for no reason?”
“Oh yeah, sorry, I only turn it on when I need it and my mind has been on other things. I don’t really think in terms of family anymore. I’ll get it all going if you’d like.”
“Yes, please.” she said.
“Hi, Emma, it’s Mom, please don’t hang up,” Karen said.
“Who said I was gunna hang up, you’re on Paul’s shitlist, not mine.”
“How is he?”
“He’s fine I guess, the budding little juvenile delinquent. I should thank him for taking some heat off me. Oh, and I’m fine too--thanks for asking.”
“I’m sorry honey, how are you.”
“Meh.”
“Listen Emma, I had sort-of an accident. I got caught in a blizzard, in, you know, Montana, but I’m okay. I’m snowed-in at this… actually fabulous ranch house.”
“Way to go Mom!” Emma said. “It was kinda alright how you got outta dodge... you irresponsible rebel.”
“Now this doesn’t mean you’re allowed to… This was a very unique, one-time...”
“Mom, dude, stop worrying. I’m not gunna, you know, go join the circus or become a hooker cuz you did this... awesome... crazy ass thing.”
“Sorry, I’m still conflicted about it.”
“Well I thought it was pretty cool.”
When Karen checked her email there was a string of messages from Sadie. She sent her an IM.
ktrent99
Here I am
sadie-isme423:
thank goodness i wuz so wryd
ktrent99
wryd?
sadie-isme423:
worried dear
what happened 2u???? saw the blzzrd hit u2, hit the whole north ½ of the US
ktrent99
long story. I’m at a fabulous ranch, snowed in. No Fanny A. Seems like the place but the guy here doesn’t even know who she is.
sadie-isme423:
iz he qt?
ktrent99
qt? Oh cute? yeah, he's pretty cute
sadie-isme423:
lolz i found out some things about the riddle
ktrent99
what?
sadie-isme423:
there were some ppl who posted to the forums about going to solve the riddle and all 3 of them deleted their accounts soon after
ktrent99
wierd
sadie-isme423:
ikr, i would b careful if i were u
ktrent99
ikr?
sadie-isme423:
I know right
ktrent99
Oh Yeah, I'll be careful, I promise.
“I was thinking,” Kevin said.
“Yeah?” said Karen looking up from a National Geographic with a tropical setting on the cover.
“Maybe we could snowshoe out, get a Christmas tree. For you I mean. If you want.”
“You can do that?”
“Yeah, I mean, look around. These are my trees. You don’t have to come, if, you know, after the other night.”
“Oh no, I’m going, Nice as your house is, I’m getting a little stir crazy.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Karen trudged along in her snow shoes. It was like walking on sand in clown shoes. She wore a bow saw on her back. Kevin had a rifle strapped to his.
Kevin took her hand to help her over a fallen log.
“Thanks,” she said but toppled forward anyway knocking Kevin off balance, the two of them landing together in the snow laughing.
“Are we going to run into bears?”
“It’s possible, or wolves, or a mountain lion.”
“R-really. I was kidding?”
“They’re sure not.”
They worked their way up a slight incline on what might have been a trail under the snow. It was the purest white Karen had ever seen. The only sound was the shoes and their breathing The cold in her lungs felt good. She pondered how five degrees out doors didn’t seen as cold as thirty-two degrees inside her old Dodge sometimes did.
After a twenty minute hike, they came upon a glade of young firs. Kevin asked for the saw and began to free a small tree from it’s roots. Karen looked around, trying to take everything in. Beyond a cluster of some trees on a rise she saw a small cabin.
“Whose cabin is that?”
Kevin looked up from his sawing and seemed to think about his answer.
“That’s mine.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“I want to see it. It’s not far. Can we? We can get the tree on the way back.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Really, it’s so darling, I’d love to take a look.”
“I said no.”
His tone had a finality to it that echoed off the nearby trees.”
Kevin tied the trunk of the tree to a rope around his waist and started to drag the tree back to the main house.
“Sorry, about the cabin… You see folks around here, well. They’re here because they want privacy.”
“And you?”
“I’m the guy who wants privacy even from the folks who come up here for privacy. I mean, I’m glad to be helping you out, and and it’s even nice to have someone around, but.”
“But I’m imposing.”
“It’s just... difficult.”
Karen was about to speak again when Kevin, ahead of her stopped suddenly and held up his arm. Suddenly it felt like a war movie.
“Wha..”
Kevin motioned with his arm and beckoned her with the other. She came close and aligned her eye with his arm. Their heads touched breifly.
Karen strained her eyes. What was she looking for? Kevin’s pointing finger stayed steady and silent waiting for her to catch up.
There she was. A gray wolf frozen in her tracks just as they were. Looking straight at them. Her fur was coarse, her body lean. A slight breeze moved the hair on her back.
It was the single most beautiful and scary thing Karen had ever seen. She had always thought of the wolf as her spirit animal, even before she took the test on Facebook. It was her son Paul’s as well and they often traded wolf T-shirts and sweatshirts at Christmas. Now here it was, right in front of her, no fence, no cage, and capable of killing her if she really wanted.
Kevin slowly brought the rifle from his shoulder, holding it in front of him, then he slowly raised the rifle to his eye. Karen was horrified that he would even consider killing such a beautiful animal.
“what are you doing?” Karen whispered.
“shhh” Kevin said.
“You’d better not…
“Shh, this wolf is too far East. She’s the one that’s been taking stock.”
“Stock?”
“Cows, steers. State’ll will pay for her body along with proof that she’s been stealing cattle.”
“Don’t... you... dare…” Hissed Karen.
Kevin lowered the gun and looked back at her. “Maybe I was only going to scare it off you know.”
When they both looked back, the gray had disappeared.
Not much was said on the way back to the house. Decorating the tree lightened the mood considerably along with mugs of hot buttered rum. Karen’s paper chains and whatever other odds and ends they could find. When it came to the angel they were stumped. Then Kevin had a flash of inspiration and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with a rotary hand-cranked egg beater and held it up for Karen’s approval. The handle was the head, the beaters flared out like robs and the circular gear in the middle was the wings.
“Perfect!”she said.
They reclined on the couch with their mugs to admire their creation. Compact discs hung from fishing line and shimmered in the firelight.
“You know what’s nice about being snowed in?” Kevin said spreading his arms on the back of the couch.
“What?” Karen couldn’t help but wonder if her company would be part of the answer, but quickly banished the thought.
“Snow days. It reminds me of snow days!”
“Yeah it does.” Karen said with a smile. “Those were so much fun.”
“I’m not sure such happiness is possible for adults.”
“Better not to be too much of an adult then.”
“Agreed.”
Karen was warm from the rum and the fire, and also from her memories of childhood. She looked up at their egg beater angel atop the tree. Her head touched his arm behind her. Their eyes drifted to the other’s and then away in a pang of discomfort. She looked at the angel again just to feel his arm behind her. They looked at one another again. She could sense the energy of his nervousness. She rolled her head into his shoulder.
“No one’s ever saved my life before. Thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome. You're one of many you know,” he joked to lighten the moment.
“That a fact?”
“Yeah, but they never call, never write.”
His arm fell off the back of the couch and wrapped around her pulling her close. Her far arm reached around and hugged his chest.
They sat there like that for a long time, two broken hearts healing, just a little.
Wednesday December 23nd
Karen arrived in the kitchen the next morning to find Kevin gone. Breakfast was still a bit warm and the coffee was still hot. The world outside was somehow even more beautiful than it was the day before.
Before she had the dishes cleaned and put away she heard a knock at the front door.
“Hello?” Karen said when she opened the door.
There was a small man in his sixties at the door. He took his bright orange hunting cap off when he addressed her. His snowmobile idled a few feet from the porch.
“Morning ma’am, is Mr. Bergstrom ‘round?”
“He’s out, I think?” Karen said. She pulled the blanket she had been using as a shawl tighter around her shoulders.
“Out? Where to?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Hmm. I’m just checking around the area, making sure people’r okay.”
“Generators are working, he seems to have plenty of food, firewood.”
“I don’t remember seeing you before miss...”
“Trent. No, I got stranded in the Blizzard. Mr. Bergstrom brought me here.”
“So you don’t know him?”
“No.”
The man peeked into the house behind her and lowered his voice.
“Just be careful miss.”
He turned to go, and put his hat back on.
“Wait, what do you mean? Why do I need to be careful?”
The man turned back halfway. He was clearly uncomfortable.
“This guy ain’t no rancher miss. He’s from LA. He’s up here cooking meth, in that little cabin up the hill.”
“Kevin? Meth? That seems a little...”
“Oh yes ma’am. Lot’s a meth up here, and folks keep it hid pretty well. Seem like pretty ordinary folks some’um.”
He stepped down from the porch on the only step the high snow hadn’t obliterated and mounted his machine like it was a horse. He tipped his hat. “I best be on. I recon you should too, soon’s you can.”
Karen closed the door and sat by the fire to warm up. It seemed ridiculous, but the gears turned in her head without her permission. She recalled his sharp reaction to her wanting to see the cabin, the rifle he carried with him outside all the time. Karen looked around. The house was very nice and filled with expensive things. Kevin never mentioned what he did for a living and had in-fact avoided the subject. Then she remembered what Sadie had told her about the deleted accounts on the forums. People who had made headway on the riddle, maybe made it here to the house and then were never heard from again. He had the Internet turned off also.
Karen had a sinking feeling in her chest. The old Karen would have panicked. The new Karen, put on her jacket and snowshoed up to the little cabin to see for herself, like Persie would do.
The door was locked. Karen felt through her hair and retrieved two hair pins. How hard could it be? She thought.
Pretty hard as it turned out.
Karen refused to give up. She was focussed. She had to get into that cabin to find out what was going on. Remembering the techniques Fanny had gone into such detail on picking locks she worked the tumblers one-by-one. She took off her gloves for more precise control and tried again, and again, and again.
Suddenly the lock clicked and turned. The door swung open.
“I can’t believe it! It worked! it really worked!”
She clicked a light switch. Nothing. She went to a window and opened the heavy shade. Whatever was in here, he did not want anyone peeking inside. Snow white light filled the cabin. It was… nothing like a meth lab. It was an office. Decorated in the same manner as the house, but with a lot more clutter, more dust. Piles of papers were stacked on shelves and the desk. Again, more books filled the shelves. Paperbacks mostly. She got closer. The titles were much closer to the best-seller stuff that Karen preferred.
In the corner was a small drum set. A pair of headphones sat on the snare drum. in another corner was a kitchenette, kept a bit neater than the rest of the room. A couch with a Playstation controller faced a larger television monitor. In the center near the largest front window was the desk.
The computer monitor and keyboard were surrounded by post-it notes and hand scrawled notebook pages. Karen got closer. The notes were tidbits of ideas, character names and traits. There was print out of book tour dates.
Everything clicked.
This was it! Fanny’s actual office!
Just to be sure, Karen went back to the book shelves. There was a glass case at the end. She opened the doors.
There they were. On the shelves, “Seed,” “Overworld,” “Harvest,” “Underworld,” “Nomads of Slorn,” the entire series, The Jewels; every Fanny Arbuckle book ever written, in hardback, all first additions.
It was Fanny. And this room was where it all happened. Karen suddenly remember the reason she had broken in. She felt ashamed. She made her way towards the door. She had to get out of here before…
“I was wrong,” Kevin said. He slowly descended a steep set of stairs from a loft. His hair was mussed, as if he’d been napping. “I thought you were different.”
“I, I’m sorry. I.”
“You seemed different than the others. And I guess you are. None of them could pick locks.”
“Others?”
The stairs were on the same side of the room as the front door. She sidled towards it, but he made it there first and stood in her way.
“Don’t hurt me.” she pleaded.
“What? I’m not...” Kevin said, genuinely confused.
“What did you do to her?” Karen said channeling a defiant Persie, expecting to be tied to a chair by the next chapter.
“What did I do with whom?”
“You know who. Fanny! Fanny Arbuckle.”
“You mean that you…”
“You did something to her so you could use her house and…”
“And what?”
“Cook meth!” Karen stood tall ready for whatever awaited her.
Kevin tittered, then exploded into all out laughter.
“What’s so damn funny.”
“You, you are. I thought you’d figured it out, you got everything else, but Meth?”
“Figured what out.”
“Oh, wait, wait. Haha! I’ll bet Charlie was here.”
“Charlie?”
“Short guy, lotta hair growing out of his nose.”
“Yeah, sounds like the guy who stopped by.”
“And told you I cook meth.”
“Yeah.”
Karen could feel embarrassment begin to fill her cheeks.
“So you don’t… cook meth.”
“No. Hell no. Charlie’s… well he likes his drama. A bit a conspiracy theorist too. Did he tell you about how fracking is actually a cover-up for the archeological discovery of ancient Mormon cities?”
“No he just… Why don’t you deny it? Set him straight.”
“It’s convenient really. I’d rather people believed that than…”
“Than what?”
“The truth, about Fanny.”
“What about Fanny? What have you done with her?”
“Don’t be so… so Persie, this is reality. Fanny’s on a book tour… sort of.” Kevin said.
“Sort of?.”
“You really don’t know do you?”
Karen looked around the room again, the drum set, the Playstation the manly disarray on the desk.
“You? You!”
Kevin smiled.
“You’re Fanny Arbuckle?”
Kevin walked over to the desk and opened one of the lower drawers. Karen was relieved when he turned and revealed only several pieces of paper stapled together.
“I was a Hollywood screenwriter, a hack. My career was going nowhere. I did the novel thing, nowhere. Then I created a new sort of heroine and submitted my work under a different name. A woman’s name.”
“Fanny Arbuckle.”
“The rest is… as they say...”
“That explains your aversion to cliche. But who is the woman on the back cover’s, in the interviews.”
“Ah Loren. Never met her in person, though I communicate with her pretty intensely before a tour, help her prepare for her ‘role’. She’s a retired actress, out of Spokane I think. My publisher hired her. Don’t even know her last name. Better that way.”
Kevin walked back over to Karen and handed her the document.
“What’s this?”
“This is your payday, what you’ve labored for, what you nearly died for.” He went to the couch and sat down facing away.
Karen looked at the document and tried to decipher the legalese.
“I so regret the riddle. It was a stupid idea. I slipped it past my editor, but it has caused so much trouble. I guess I loved the idea of an Easter egg, and, to be honest I was pretty lonely. I liked the thought of someone finding their way here, but I didn’t think it through.
“I figured naturally fans would be the ones who would solve the riddle, but because of the Internet, word spread and it was more the treasure seeker type that met the challenge. When the first guy arrived he simply wanted the online bragging rights to finding the place first, but that would mean a stream of people coming up here. I’d have to move and I couldn’t do that, this place is too perfect. This is literally Snowberry Blossom Ranch! One of the few things I didn’t invent in the books.”
“This is that place. It’s even more wonderful than you described.”
“Thanks, I think. Anyway, we paid him off to sign a binding NDA, non-disclosure agreement” Kevin nodded at the papers in her hand. “He had to delete his accounts on any sites he had posted about anything remotely related to Fanny, or the books. And promise never to breath a word of this place or the riddle solution in perpetuity.”
Karen remembered what Sadie had said about the deleted accounts.
“There were others, always the same. Not fans of the book, just forum trollers, fortune hunters. The last one before you, we believe is a friend of the first guy, tipped-off for the same payout. There a bunch of lawyers and private investigators working on that one. What a mess.”
Karen stared at the paper. She walked over and grabbed a pen from a mug on the desk, then two more till she found a working one.
She signed and dated the NDA and handed it to him.
“No charge. Though you’ll need to send a copy of this to a certain ‘sadie-isme423’ she can negotiate her own terms.” Karen said. She paused at the door.
“Seems I was wrong about you too.”
She put on her snowshoes and started down the hill.
“Karen!” he shouted from the doorway.
She stopped and turned. He said nothing seeing the look in her eyes, she had been told a lot of things over the years. There wasn’t much new material.
“You know It was you that taught me to pick locks,” she said. “You, Fanny, Persie Pruitt.”
She turned and continued on.
“Thanks for saving me. Send a bill of you’d like.” Karen said without looking back.
A few hours later Karen had made it back to her car. She’d followed Charlie’s snowmobile tracks to his place then got a ride from him. The road had just been cleared by a front loader that was still working it way up the highway. By the time she got there she could see that Kevin had already extracted his truck and plowed a path for her Jeep as well.
As soon as she had signal on her phone, she pulled over and pulled up the stats.
It was noon. It was two thousand miles to Medina. If she only stopped for gas and a quick nap or two she could be home by midnight on Christmas eve: thirty-six hours. Easy!
The hum of the Jeep’s tires harmonized with the radio hour after hour. Station after station would come in range then crackle and die away, she would scan and find another. Sometimes classic rock, sometimes country, often Christmas music. She even listened to baptist preacher for a while, noting the R&B-like rhythm and melody in his “fahr aand brimstone” oratory.
She purchased a miniature Christmas tree for her dashboard at a truck stop. It was made for semis, so it was a bit imposing on the Jeep’s dash when she plugged it into her cigarette lighter.
“Perfect.” she said.
The brown dead landscape she had driven West through had become snow covered and dreamlike all the way back to Western New York
Thursday December 24th Christmas Eve
17 cups of coffee and eleven pee breaks later, Karen pulled into her old driveway. It was 10:33PM on Christmas Eve. Her limbs felt shaky, but otherwise she felt surprisingly good.
“Karen!” Bob still had the TV remote in his hand when he answered the door.
“Hello Bob,” Karen said as she strolled past him.
Emma was sitting in a lounge chair ears and eyes plugged into her phone until she saw her mother walk into the room.
“Mom!”
“Hey Emma. Merry Christmas!”
The girl surprised her mother with a big hug.
“Merry Christmas Mom.”
“Wow! Miss me much?”
“Meh,” said Emma with a smile.
“Where’s the other juvenile delinquent?”
“In his room, brooding.”
“Okay, wish me luck.”
“Lotsa luck road warrior.”
The sounds of a computer game came from behind Paul’s door. Rapid keyboard clicks sounded like a tiny machine gun.
Karen waited. She searched for words. How to begin?
“Paul?”
The clicking stopped.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry I slapped you honey. I’m… Things have been…”
This wasn’t working. Karen stared at the light from under his door.
“I saw a wolf,” she said. “A real one right in front of me. No fence or anything.”
The door opened slowly.
“Really, no kidding?” Paul said.
“Yeah, it was like twenty yards away from me. Staring right at me. it was quite an experience.”
“Were you scared?”
“A little, but mostly I was thinking of you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I officially named it ‘Paul’.”
“You did not.”
“I did, just call the Montana Department of Fish Wildlife and Parks, They’ll tell you. They put a tag on it and everything.”
“Shut up.”
“Yeah, actually, I lied.”
“I thought so.”
“It’s a ‘Pauline’.”
Paul laughed, but then got quiet again.
“Mom... did I make you leave.”
Karen reached out and touched her son’s face.
“Oh no, no Paul, you’re what made me come back. I needed to go somewhere and grieve. Be somewhere where I wasn’t a mom, or a wife/ex-wife, or sister, just a person. You know?”
“Yeah I guess. We’re you grieving about Jewel?”
“Yes, but also grieving my marriage, your childhood and most of all the person I was for all that. Things change and we sometimes have to change along with them. We have to say goodbye to our old selves and that can be sad, but it’s good too.”
“Kinda like when I got too old for my Pokemon stuff and put it in the attic. I cried, but I still did put em up there, and now it’s okay.”
“Yeah, like that.”
“Are you staying here tonight Mom?” Paul asked.
“No sweetie, in fact I have to go let Aunt Jean know I’m alive, and then I really, really need to sleep! But you guys are coming over at ten, so I’ll see you then, okay?”
Karen kissed his forehead and turned to go.
“Mom?”
“Yes hon?”
“I’m sorry too. For...”
She pulled him to her.
“I know, I know.” She said. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas Mom.”
Bob was looking out the window when she walked past.
“What the hell is that?”
“That’s my Jeep. Like it?”
“Where’s my car? Where’s the BMW?”
“North Dakota. Traded it to a very nice man named Sheriff Bart. He’s gunna ‘pimp that shit out’, his words.”
“But, but.”
“Don’t worry shithead, we found your stash and it’s going right into the kid’s college fund where it belongs.”
“But…”
“Bye Bob. Kids at Jean’s by ten. Merry Christmas”
Driving down the road she passed a Mercedes SUV going the other way. She saw it’s headlights swing around in her rearview mirror and accelerate after her. It honked its horn until Karen pulled over.
“Oh what now?”
A figure got out and walked quickly towards her. Karen kept the car in drive and the window rolled up.
“Karen!” the man said, out of breath.
“Kevin?” Karen shouted.
