I’m just the nerdy graduate who spent my afternoons in college at Grandma’s house, drinking tea and studying. We were always close, the two of us. Ever since Mom and Dad died, I’ve poured all of my love and energy into Grandma. Jeffrey oversaw all the details of Mom and Dad’s estate. After all, he’s older than me. It just made sense at the time.
By the time I was old enough to claim my inheritance at the ripe old age of 25, there was nothing left for me in the trust fund. It had all been absorbed in legal fees and taxes, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want the money.
I just wanted my family.
I stare at the water for a few more minutes, then I take a deep breath. I’ve lingered too long. I need to go. The day is half over and I still need to walk for a few more hours, at least. Heaving my backpack up a little bit, I set out on the path. It’s going to be a long day and an even longer lifetime trying to outrun my brother.
I take my next step, each one more sure than the last.
I can do this.
I have to.
***
I didn’t bring my cell phone, but even if I did, there’s no cell reception in the woods. I don’t even know what I’d do if I got injured right now. I’d probably just cry and pray someone found me. Silly, I know, but that’s what I’m thinking about as I approach the cabin.
Then again, maybe I should be grateful I’m alone.
There’s no one left in the world to miss me.
There is no one to cry over me if anything goes wrong.
Not that things could go any more wrong. It’s already a holiday weekend, so my boss isn’t going to miss me for a few days. I don’t really have any friends to speak of. Facebook friends don’t count,
as far as I’m concerned. The “Contacts” list in my phone is decidedly empty. No one is really going to care when I don’t post updates about my life or my dinner for a few days.
I try not to think about what that says about my life choices as I step forward towards the cabin.
It’s tiny and brown and blends in with the dark forest. Grandmother’s house is exactly as I remembered it: a one-room shack in the middle of nowhere. Somehow, though, seeing it in real life makes me feel alive and excited and ready for anything.
I walk up to the cabin, hoping beyond all hope that it’s empty. Wouldn’t it be just my luck if wolves had broken in? Or worse, I shudder: squatters.
I eye the cabin from a distance before slowly moving in. The truth is that I don’t really have much of a way to defend myself if someone was in there. I’m feisty and fierce, but I’m also unpracticed and undisciplined. Years of studying and pouring hours into my education have given me spaghetti arms.
I silently vow to fix that while I’m staying at the cabin.
The wood log exterior looks like it’s in good condition. The tiny porch seems fine, too. Though Grandmother loved to decorate, she kept the outside of the cabin simple. She wanted it to blend in, I think. She wanted it to mean something.
Did she want this place to feel like a safe haven?
Part of me wants to think so.
Part of me wants to believe she always knew I would seek refuge here when I needed it the most.
I take the step up to the porch and try the door. Locked. Good. No one’s been inside, after all. Only, as I find the stone hide-a-key next to the porch, I discover that it’s empty.
“Fuck,” I say aloud, kicking at the tiny porch. The wood reverberates under my shoe and shakes, just slightly.
No key to Grandmother’s.
And then, just my luck, it starts to rain. I scurry up onto the porch and stand there like an idiot as the water pours down. It’s amazing how little protection the trees really do offer from the rain. Almost none. Within seconds, I’m soaked, even standing on the porch. The wind howls and I hear a crack of thunder.
I need to get inside.
I have three choices: break a window, try to pick the lock, or sit on the porch and live there instead. I decide to break the window, for simplicity’s sake.
First, though, I give in to one last moment of lucidity and see if either of the front windows are open. There are others on the other sides of the cabin, but they’re too high up for me to reach on my own. The porch at the front of the cabin gives me a bit of a boost, and I’m thrilled that when I try to push up the windows, they actually move quickly.