This story is submitted for the
Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2023
. Please be forewarned: It contains mention of an episode of sexual violence.
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When you are living in the wilderness far from other people, your body starts to change slowly. You sleep better, your strength improves and your sense of contentment climbs. Your senses become more keen, better able to discern tiny changes in your environment. The sense of smell, freed from exhaust fumes and pollution, improves dramatically. You can smell the subtle changes of the seasons; those first few blooms of early spring flowers, the rain approaching on a hot summer day and the musty smell of decaying leaves in the fall. The vision improves so that a tiny speck approaching in the sky is seen well before the details of a hawk or an eagle become apparent. Food tastes better once the bland, mass-produced foods have cleared from your taste buds and you are preparing your food from scratch while using wild herbs and plants for natural seasoning.
Most dramatically, the hearing improves. A tiny breeze tickling the leaves, a splashing brook hundreds of yards away, a screeching hawk high in the sky and even the snorting of a lumbering bear in the woods are all easily heard once the din of traffic, Muzak and twenty-four-hour news reports are relegated to the mind's trash heap.
Jim's hearing picked up the distant vehicle well before it arrived. He could tell from the sound alone the vehicle was ill prepared for the journey. Tires slipped, gravel sprayed, gears ground, the engine whined and water splashed under tires, all telling him the driver and vehicle were clearly ill prepared to tackle the old, rutted forest service road which led up to and just past his summer cabin. As he heard the vehicle approach, he slowly ambled down his gravel driveway towards the road. Eventually, around a bend in the road, came a small, imported truck fishtailing its way up the treacherous road. Jim didn't recognize the vehicle and realized immediately it was ill-suited to drive on this stretch of the road.
Once it reached his driveway, he saw the back of the truck had several boxes but did not appear to be overly full and a quick look at the front wheels confirmed his assumption this was no four-wheel drive truck. 'How could they expect to drive through slush and over a deeply rutted road with a light-weight, two-wheel-drive truck with little weight over the real axle?' he wondered. As the window rolled down, he looked at the cab, surprised to see a young woman with a concerned look on her face staring back at him.
He kept his distance, a wise thing to do when meeting strangers in such circumstances, and nodded to her before speaking, "Afternoon."
"Hello. I, uh, I'm looking for Saul's cabin. Is this it?"
"No, Ma'am. His is the next one, well actually, the last one up the road."
"How much further?"
"Couple hundred yards, but the road is even more wicked up there. I don't think anyone's been through there for over two years."
"I've made it this far and I'm sure I'll make it up there."
"I hope you do too. Uh, I'm Jim and I live here 'bout six months a year."
"Sharon. I may be here for a while."
"Welcome. If I can be of any assistance, give me a holler."
"I'm sure I'll be fine," she answered curtly as she rolled up her window and put her truck into gear.
Jim was struck by her rather brusque manner but figured she must have her reasons for being out in the Cascades so far from others. Maybe she was hiding or needed solitude to do work or some such thing. He turned back to his place as his ears listened to her vehicle struggle up the last few hundred yards of the road. He had to hand it to her; she certainly had a lot of nerve to tackle the road with such a poor choice for a truck and come to such a remote spot all by herself.
After listening to the remote sounds of Saul's door opening and closing, he began to smell wood smoke. He figured she must have moved in and started a fire. Later, as it was getting dark, he peered through the forest towards Saul's cabin and could make out a faint light. He lit his own candles and began to prepare his dinner. As he thought about her, he decided he would do the neighborly thing and drop by in the morning with a small batch of cookies baked in a Dutch oven on his wood-burning stove.
The next morning dawned bright but cold. Even though it was late April, there was a deep frost adorning trees and shrubs. He crawled out of bed, put on an extra layer of clothing and relit the fire from some embers still glowing in the fireplace. Fresh coffee and some scrambled eggs made from a freeze-dried package helped warm him before he tackled the cookies. He chose brownies which could be easily mixed and cooked in the Dutch oven over the stove's fire. The smell of mouth-watering, fresh baking soon filled his cabin. Once he let his concoction cool, he divided it into several pieces before slipping them into an old plastic container.
He could hear sounds coming from Saul's cabin throughout the morning but decided to wait until after lunch to walk over there. Around two he picked up his offering and made his way through the woods on a trail to the other cabin. Right as he came out of the woods, he did the wise thing and called out, announcing his presence.
"Hello! Anyone home?"
After a few seconds, she cracked open her door but did not come out onto the tiny porch. "Yes?"
"I'm a bit old fashioned, I guess, and I thought it would be nice to bring some fresh baked goods to my new neighbor," he smiled.
She looked at him warily before responding, "Uh, OK, go ahead and leave them on the porch."
"Sure thing. Like I said yesterday, I'm Jim and if I can be of any assistance, please let me know."
"I'll be fine."
"I'm sure, but as you already know, it's quite a drive into town. Just holler if you need me," he said with a big grin which was met with an icy stare. He turned away muttering about his hard work and scarce chocolate being unappreciated.
A few days later he planned to go 'hunting' with his SLR camera and an attached zoom lens. He made a living doing photography and on that day, he felt the lighting would be particularly nice.
After walking up a path behind his cabin, he climbed higher to where the trail led up to a series of rocky knolls overlooking the cabins and the rest of the upper valley. He walked quietly to avoid startling any wildlife. After taking some pictures of two gold finches building a nest, he climbed higher looking for more wildlife.
He crested a small ridge and almost tripped over Sharon who was behind a rock and bent over a notebook writing furiously. She shrieked in alarm, pulling a bag towards her chest before laying into him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me like that?"
"Taking pictures. Look, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were here and I didn't mean to scare you."
"Then why the fuck were you walking so quietly?"
"Look, like I said, I'm sorry. I'm a photographer and I don't want to scare the wildlife. I'll get out of your way, Jeez!"
"Don't 'Jeez' me. I have every right to be scared."
"I agree, but it seems you don't understand the word 'sorry'. I'll get out of your hair since every animal around has long since gone into hiding."
He stormed down the path, pissed at the woman who didn't even thank him for the cookies and who yelled at him over a simple surprise. "Who the fuck does she think she is?" he muttered, "My dreams of a quiet summer are totally shot now."
Back at his cabin, he pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured himself a couple of fingers. Once the alcohol hit his brain, his mood improved to the point where he could fire up his solar/battery powered lap-top computer and work on some of the images he had taken over the prior week. He tinkered with several pictures and before he knew it, darkness was descending. After a meal, he read for the rest of the evening.
For the next few days, he ignored the neighbor, figuring she didn't want anything to do with him, so why bother? He resumed his photography work but hiked purposefully away from Saul's place to do so. Some of his newer photos were quite nice and he could see some potential for selling them.
One evening as he was about to crash, he heard some footsteps outside. It was particularly odd as they sounded like someone was sneaking around his cabin. In general, he had always felt quite safe at the cabin but this was definitely unusual. With thoughts about his safety running through his mind, he quietly tip-toed over to the fireplace and grabbed his hatchet. He slid down beneath a window between the wall and a sofa to wait. The steps sounded like they went back and forth on his porch a couple of times before stopping at his door. He ignored the faint knocking when he first heard it only to hear more and louder rapping on his door.
With his hatchet held steady on the edge of the sofa, he called out, "Who is it?"
"Uh, Sharon, from next door. May I come in?"
"Anyone else with you?"
"No, just me."
"Open the door slowly and keep your hands where I can see them."
He watched the door ease open and her step into the cabin. She gasped softly upon seeing him holding the hatchet but remained still.
"Close the door behind you."
Once she did, she turned back to him. "Uh, I'm sorry to intrude but I could use some help."
"OK. What?"
