The Cabin 28

A beautiful fall day greets me as I look out the kitchen window. The trees are starting to turn from yellow to scarlet. There is a crispness in the air that prompts one to reach for the warmer clothing that has been tucked away all summer.

I start my journey via car to get to the mountain a few miles away. It's grandeur evident as I approach it, covering the horizon in front of me. Parking the car in a secluded spot, I begin walking. The mountain looks so big and yet there are trails that are gradual for climbing. Every now and then I stop and look back from where I have come. My car grows more distant while the view becomes more breathtaking.

Not having grown up close to mountains, I find their beauty even more special. Each time I come here I find new wonders to behold, the mountain and it's inhabitants ever changing. The wild flowers of spring, the glorious lush green canopy of summer and now the rainbow of color from the arrival of fall. The animals scramble at my approach, but even they are changing, growing thicker coats to sustain them throughout the cold, harsh winter. Squirrels chatter at me while they continue to tuck away their winter stores.

My destination is a small cabin tucked quietly into the side of the mountain on a small plateau. As I walk, I still marvel at how a tree can root itself into the incline and grow so large and tall. There are several trees surrounding the cabin, protecting it. A rope swing hangs from a massive branch of a maple that allows me to swing out over the edge of the plateau, giving me that slight feeling of soaring.

The excitement builds in me as I near my destination. I feel at peace in this place, so close to nature. The screech of a peregrine falcon pierces the air alerting the others of my return, I smile in spite of myself. Seeing the cabin in the distance, my pace quickens.

Arriving, my first instinct is to open the cabin door to make sure all is in order. It is much as I left it, very rustic and yet comfortable to a degree. My eye catches a vase of flowers on the wooden table. Approaching it cautiously, I find a card attached. It reads, "What took you so long?" Mystified, my eyes glance around the cabin to find the giver, but none exist.

Feeling nervous I head back to the door. Exiting the cabin I see a man sitting in the rope swing carelessly looking out over the edge.

I hear a voice saying, "What took you so long?"

I know it is the giver of the flowers. Approaching him, none too sure of myself, my curiosity won't allow me to leave.

I am standing behind the man when he rises from the swing to face me. There is a smile on his face which calms me slightly.

Questions spring from me, asking him, "How did you know I would be here?" "How did you know about the cabin?" "Who are you?"

He assures me it was mere coincidence that we happened along at the same time. He was just an earlier riser on this day and saw me coming. He confessed that he himself comes to this same cabin on occasion and had seen me here in the past but did not want to interrupt my peaceful excursion, so he had left... until today.

My next question, "Why today?"

His reply was simply, "Because there is a part of me that wants to share this beauty with someone."

He asked, "Would you be so kind as to share this day with me, enjoying the mountain?"

Dumbfounded, the words roll from my mouth with ease, "Yes, I would like that."

Then just as quickly I find myself not knowing how to act, or what to say. A small chuckle flows from his throat as a reassuring smile crosses his lips, at my discomfort. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

In a reassuring tone he says, "Do not feel committed to entertaining me, just be yourself."

Turning to walk back to the cabin, unlocking the box in which I keep some food items. He enters the cabin and asks if I would like a fire started. Nodding my head in agreement, he starts that task. After my walk up the mountain side, I am famished. Thank goodness for quick food, a can of prepared beef stew and a can of peaches are my choices. After rinsing and drying the cast iron pot that I hang over the fire, I open the can of stew into it.

Quietly rising from the fire that is starting to snap, he comes to get the pot. Our hands brush against one another slightly when he takes it from me, to hang over the fire. He says it will be a while before it is ready and asks if I would like to go for a short walk together. Still feeling a bit uneasy, I bow out.

He says, "Very well," then departs out the cabin door.

I find myself peeking out the cabin door to see his direction of travel, wondering about this kind stranger. He has a calm swagger in his step, that of self reassurance, comfort. There is something about him that puts me at ease one moment, then at times makes my skin prickle with wonder.

I find myself wondering where he is from, what his life is like, what draws him to this mountain... like myself. Walking to the swing I hop into the seat, grasp the rope with my hands and start to swing. At first I swing gently wondering if he is close, then eventually that feeling of soaring fills me and I pump my legs harder to get higher. At the height of my swing I can feel my behind come off the seat slightly as I start my decline again, my hair blowing haphazardly in the wind. Knowing if I were to jump I would die from the fall, and yet wishing, with all my being, I could jump and actually soar along the side of the mountain as the falcon does.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a gun. Wondering who is shooting in such close proximity, my swinging slows to find out. When I depart from the swing I see him walking towards me with a rabbit he has killed. He wasn't real thrilled about canned beef stew and wanted some real food for supper. Following his movements I watch as he cleans the rabbit and prepares it to be placed over the fire. I am not taken aback by his gesture, I look upon it as a new experience... learning.

He asks if I have any spices in the cabin, to which I respond by going inside to retrieve them. He looks over the assortment, choosing the ones he wants to prepare the rabbit. A grin forms on his lips at my curiosity while he continues on with the task at hand. Pulling a metal rod from the fire he puts the rabbit on it and lays it in a rack to roast, inches from the flames. When he rises from the fire, I am so close he bumps into me.

Laughter abounds when he says, "You sure are a curious little one."

I can't contain myself, a smile crosses my lips because I know he is right.

He reaches a hand out to me and says, "Please, come with me a moment."

Looking from his outstretched hand, up to his eyes, back to his hand again. He reassures me, telling me he has a surprise to show me. Knowing that I won't turn down a surprise with my curious nature, I offer him a quiet smile and take his hand.

Outside the cabin door we walk towards a wooded area I have never ventured into before, because of the thickets. Walking around the thickets until we are on the other side, there is an opening that allows us entry. In the middle is a quiet pool of water that is fed by the mountain. He puts a finger to his mouth, telling me to remain quiet while we walk to a downed log and sit. As we sit I can feel his presence very close to me, sitting right beside me, touching. Noticing his gaze and following it to the quiet pool, watching intently, my eyes watch also. After a few minutes some of the forest animals surface to drink from the pool. My gaze is transfixed on a mother rabbit and her babies while they drink. Occasionally the mother raises her head looking and listening for sights and sounds of danger to protect her babies from. Quietly they drift back into the landscape of brush. My eyes are drawn back to him, he is not watching the animals... he is watching me, smiling.

Rising from the log, I start the short walk back to the cabin. He follows just behind me, calmly whistling as he walks. I know his path does not follow mine when I hear his whistle drifting further away. Reaching the cabin door I turn to see him standing on the edge of the plateau, looking out over the edge. He closes his eyes and breathes in a deep breath of the fresh air. Silhouetted against the sky, he looked like such a proud man. I sense that this man means me no harm.

The aroma of the cooking rabbit fills the cabin, my stomach growls uncontrollably with anticipation. Taking dishes from the cupboard, preparing to eat, I find myself lingering at the wild flowers on the table, raising the vase to take in their sweet scent. The cabin door creaks quietly when he enters. Not as jumpy at his presence, my hand gently sets the vase back on the table, continuing to set the table.

He pulls my stew from the hanger and replaces it with a kettle that I have filled with water. The rabbit remains cooking, while I spoon stew onto my plate. With a glance in my direction, he tells me to go ahead and eat, he will wait for the rabbit. Waiting, he takes a seat by the fire and starts to read. The rocker he is in creaks in a study rhythm against the wood floor. It is quiet, all but the chair and the popping of the fire. This is the peace that I find so calming here in this cabin.

After eating my stew and cleaning my dish, I decide it is time to prepare the bedding for a good nights sleep. Opening the foot locker at the end of the bed, I pull out some sheets and a comforter. Carefully tucking the sheets onto the down mattress then covering it with the comforter, I pull the pillow from the locker, fluff it and place it on the bed as well. Just as my hands deposit the pillow I realize there is only one bed and two of us.

Turning, my face hot from this revelation, he is looking at me. It is not a stare, but it is an intent look.

Immediately, I say, "You can have the bed."

Laughing, he says, "And what kind of gentleman would I be if I were to do that?" Then continues by saying, "I have a sleeping roll that will work just fine."

Turning, he pulls the rabbit from the fire, taking it to the table. Pulling some meat off to eat it, he motions for me to come taste. My hand reaches for the offering and he waves my hand aside and places the meat to my mouth with his hand. Such an intimate feeling surrounds me at this gesture, especially when he pulls his fingers away to lick them after touching them to my lips. My eyes are transfixed on his action. At that moment I find myself wondering how he kisses, what he tastes like.

Shaking myself mentally, savoring the taste of the cooked rabbit, knowing at this point why he has waited to eat. Patting the seat beside him, he offers for me to share it with him. Taking the offered seat, he is insistent on feeding me each morsel. Each time his fingers graze my lips, each time I feel him inching closer I find myself becoming more and more relaxed.

Taking turns offering me bites and feeding himself, the rabbit slowly disappears. After I have had my fill I decline any more offerings and thank him for the delicious tasting meat. After filling my belly I am a bit lethargic so I opt for a walk in the brisk air. I ask if he wants to accompany me, he declines so I leave the cabin alone. Walking up the gradual incline by the cabin, through the trees, occasionally glancing at my feet seeing the new fallen leaves, listening to the crunch while I walk along. The air is refreshing, clean and crisp, causing me to stop and inhale a deep breath and enjoy that simple feeling.

I find myself wishing I could start this day all over again so my stay could be longer. Knowing that is not possible, I head back to the cabin to rest for the night so I can rise early to enjoy all of tomorrow that I can, before departing.

When I enter the cabin the fire has burned down to orange embers. There is enough light for me to see him already laying in his bedroll, for the night. Quietly walking to the fire, I place one more large piece of wood in the middle to keep the fire going through till morning. He is unmoving so I assume he is either sleeping or trying to get to sleep.

Walking to my bed I take one more glance in his direction to make sure he is not looking, then start to undress. Reaching into the foot locker, pulling out the white flannel night gown I keep there for chilly fall nights, slipping the gown over my naked body. Sitting on the edge of the bed I pull the comb from my hair and deposit in on the night stand while grabbing my hair brush. Flipping my hair forward I start with my 100 strokes of brushing to get out all the tangles of the day enjoying how good it feels.

Finishing that task, flipping my hair back, I enjoy the sensation of feeling it fall upon my shoulders, hanging loosely after being up all day. At that moment I glance in his direction to find him watching me, a look of longing in his eyes. Just as quickly his eyes close and he lays his head back down.

There is a part of me that wonders about the look in his eyes, there is another part of me that is afraid to ask. Quietly I stand and pull down the bedcovers, climbing under them to sleep for the night. As I lay in bed I start wondering about this quiet man, realizing I know nothing about him and yet I feel safe in his presence. My mind is growing groggy, I can feel myself drifting into sweet slumber.

Sometime in the night a sound startles me to wake. Opening my eyes to see what woke me, I find that he is up and sitting in the rocker by the fire, not reading simply gazing into the flames. Laying for a while, watching him, I wonder what thoughts are traveling through his mind, what has caused him to wake, why he can't sleep. As if feeling my eyes on him, he looks in my direction. I am far enough away he can't possibly see if I am awake or not. Rising from the rocker he walks toward me. Closing my eyes, I try to steady my breathing to not give myself away.

When he reaches my bedside, he stops. I can feel his hand touch my hair that cascades over my shoulder, stroking it gently. Feeling his touch sends chills through me and makes it nearly impossible to calm my breathing. His hand continues down the curve of my body, lingering at my narrow waist to rise again while it slides slowly up and over my hip. My bent knees are hanging out of the bedcovers slightly, his hand moves to touch my bare skin. Inside I am screaming and yet I try with all my might to keep my composure, knowing he means me no harm.

This longing I saw in his eyes earlier makes me wonder if he recalls a past love that he misses, or if it is simply the pleasure of being close to a woman that prompts him to do this. Having touched my hair and skin, I feel his hand pull away. I can't open my eyes for fear of giving myself away and yet I know he has not moved away. I have not heard him move and I can most assuredly feel his presence... close.

I hear a whisper, "You are like the small rabbit at the pool, quiet, unmoving, listening for danger."

Slowly my eyes open and I look up at him, there is a calm smile on his face. I feel such emotions around this man, from one extreme to the other. I feel tension when he is quiet and yet I also feel calm in that quiet presence. I feel safe when he touches me and yet I also feel there is a quiet hunger under his surface. Perhaps the emotions I feel are a mirror of what I see in myself.

Wondering what it would be like to kiss this man, wondering how it would be to have him hold me in his arms, wondering how it would feel to have our bodies touching, making passionate love. Would he be gentle and loving or would he be bold and adventurous? Laying there quietly looking at him, I have all these thoughts flow through my mind. He breaks the silence by asking me what I am thinking. My mouth opens but the words just won't come out, so I swallow hard and close it again.

His fingers reach forward to touch my lips. I can feel the tension between us and I know what I want to do but for reasons unknown I can't make that move.

He whispers, "You are shaking, are you afraid of me?"

Shaking my head slightly to say no, my eyes are now downcast. He reaches his hand towards me, my hand can't resist and slips out from the covers to take his. His other hand reaches, I grasp the other. Lifting, he pulls me to an upright position, until I am sitting on the edge of the bed.

Tugging again I follow his lead until I am standing before him. Stepping backward slightly he drops one hand, still holding the other he turns toward the fire, tugging slightly, wanting me to follow him. I follow, my hand held gently in his much larger one, feeling that same hand that just traveled down my body ever so slowly.

When we arrive at his bedroll he reaches for the blanket draped over the rocker. We sit on the bedroll while he wraps the blanket around my shoulders. Sitting in front of the fire, mesmerized by the flames, listening to the crackling in the quietness of the cabin, all the while feeling his presence beside me.

He is the first to speak, asking if there is anyone special in my life, asking if I feel the warmth of another, asking if I remember how it feels to be loved in return. My eyes cloud with tears at the emotions his questions bring to my mind. I can not reply, all I can manage to do it look into his eyes. Being a wise man, he knows the answer to these questions without my answering.

I feel compelled to lay my head on his shoulder. His arm goes around me, cradling my body close to his. I feel his cheek lay against my hair taking in my scent, while his hand strokes my arm. No words are needed, we each seem to sense the others feelings. With closed eyes, I enjoy in that feeling of having someone hold me, caress me, feeling that feeling of protection.

So many thoughts going through my mind, sensations going through my body. Knowing that I indeed do have someone in my life, but a person that I feel I do not truly know anymore. Feeling as though that person would just as soon be alone than with me, if not for the sake of our children, simply by his actions. It has been so long since I have felt love, passion or compassion, respect, caring and that art of love making, that sends a person into another orbit. Thinking of the many nights I have laid there for the duration, then rolled on my side and cried afterward because there is no connection anymore.

I have not felt these emotions coursing through me for a long time. It is like wildfire inside my body... getting hotter and growing. This quiet man, has ignited something inside me that has made me aware of what is missing in my life. That part of life that, at times, is what sustains us through everything else that tries to rob us of our sanity, our strength.

I know when a relationship is new, there is a freshness to it. Over time that freshness fades, but the inner emotions are still there and feed from the respect that two people offer one another. I never realized how important this factor was until it was vacant from my life. I have never felt the sting of this mans anger, so for this moment I feel comfort.

I feel some shame for my thoughts and yet it feels so good to feel these emotions. I feel like a blossom of spring wanting to grow, to shoot out of the earth and show my beauty after a long dormant winter. Somehow I know this mans needs are not so much emotional, but more physical and for the moment I am content with that knowledge. For this moment in time, that is all I can deal with myself, perhaps dealing with the emotional side is too painful right now.

Guided by forces deep inside myself, I sit up and pull away from his embrace. His slides his arm from around me. Slowly standing, I look down at him and extend my hands. Taking my hands, standing, his arms embrace me. Standing in the middle of the small cabin, we sway and hold one another. He knows my desires, I believe he sees more of me than I am willing to admit. I feel at times that I stir emotions in him by understanding what is inside him.