I looked over at my son, Tom, as we crested another small peak of the trail in the dimming evening light. We were still a few miles away from getting back to the vacation rental here in the Green Mountains that we were staying at as a family, but I wasn't worried; we had flashlights and the terrain was remote but not too challenging. Tom would've made the trek back with his eyes closed; he hiked these trails as often as he could in the summer, whenever we came up to Vermont from our home on Cape Cod.
This trip in particular had been one that was important for bonding, as Tom had recently broken up with his girlfriend of four years and took the news pretty hard. It was the first time he'd been seriously heartbroken, and I was worried that he'd take it badly and spiral into depression or something. He seemed fine when we'd arrived at the mountains for our week-long vacation, but he'd been quieter than usual over the last couple days, and I'd been giving him space to do what he needed.
As I watched him, I realized with pride and a little wistfulness how much he'd grown up. Now 19, Tom was a strapping young man. He was 5'10 and had an athletic build, the result of all the hiking, swimming, and surfing he did. He'd been a sporty young kid, and the years hadn't changed that.
He had short, spiky brown hair, and I couldn't help but notice when we'd been swimming together that he had a surprisingly thick chest of hair for a kid of his age -- already more than I had. And, maybe I was just feeling a little inadequate lately due to the dying down of my wife's libido, I had to admit that I was a little envious of the way his ass and pecs had filled out as he'd matured, as well as all that hair on his body.
I shook my head to clear it and refocused on the matter at hand, watching as he carefully made his way down the steep slope. I followed a few yards behind him, keeping an eye on him as I went.
The woods were thick here, the trees towering high above us as just a few twinkling stars began to appear over the canopies, and the footing was tricky. A few times I had to grab onto tree branches to keep from tumbling down the hill.
Tom, however, had seemed to have a natural talent for this type of thing, and he maneuvered his way down the hill with ease, never faltering.
Finally we reached the bottom of the trail segment, and I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. Tom grinned at me, his bright green eyes sparkling in the darkness.
"You okay, Dad?" he asked, and I nodded, grateful for his help.
"Yeah, I'm good," I said, exhaling. It was getting a lot darker, so I pulled out my flashlight and turned it on.
Twenty or so minutes further down the trail, as we followed a relatively gentle valley ridge, I was surprised to see a light not too far off in the distance.
"What do you think that is?" I asked Tom, shining my light in the direction of the light and squinting to see.
Tom shrugged. "Not sure," he said. "Maybe someone's cabin?"
I hadn't seen any signs of habitation in this area; the last time I'd been up here, there was nothing but logging trails.
"Maybe we should check it out," he said, and I nodded, feeling a little nervous. Tom had a way of chafing at the bit to push ahead, and I had to keep him at the pace that would be safe. But it was true -- in an area this rural, it wasn't smart to cross someone's property without giving them a quick holler, or else you could find yourself in trouble much worse.
We approached the cabin slowly, trying to look polite and casual, and as we moved toward it we could hear music. It was a lively country ballad, something cheerful, and hearing it made me feel a little brighter for some reason.
"Somebody's having a party," Tom said, grinning.
"Let's just," I said, but before I could finish my sentence, the door of the cabin burst open and a figure came barreling out.
I yelped and Tom swore, and we both took a step back. The figure was a man, and he was clearly drunk. He was singing at the top of his
"Hello!" he called, stumbling over to us. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and he was swaying unsteadily. "You boys looking for a party?"
"No, thank you," I said quickly, trying to edge away.
"We're just passing through," Tom added, trying to be polite.
The man ignored us, though, and instead staggered over to a large tree a few yards away. He leant against it, taking a long drink from his bottle, and then belched loudly.
"Damn, that's good," he said, and then he caught sight of us again. "You want some? It'll make you feel better."
"No, thank you," I said again.
"I wouldn't say no," Tom offered adventurously, and before I could stop him, he'd taken a step closer to the man.
The man grinned. He was about 6'2" with a lean, wiry build and short, dark-blond hair.
"You sure?" he asked, holding out the bottle.
Tom hesitated for a second, and then took the bottle. He took a sip, and then made a face.
"It's not really my thing," he said, handing the bottle back.
The man shrugged.
"Suit yourself," he said, and then he took another drink.
A second man appeared in the doorway, backlit. He seemed sober and had a much more guarded air.
"That's Cliff," the drunk man said, nodding at the other man.
"What are they doing here, Rufus?" Cliff asked, his voice tight.
"They're lost, obviously," Rufus said, taking another drink. "What the hell does it look like?"
Cliff glared at us.
"Oh, we're just on our way," I said, trying to sound relaxed, although the situation felt weird. "You fellows have a good night."
"Not so fuckin' fast," growled Cliff. My stomach dropped as his hands whirled around to point a rifle directly at my son.
"Easy, Cliff," Rufus said, holding out a hand. "They're just passing through."
"Don't be a fuckin' idiot," snarled Cliff. "We can't just be letting people go who know about our little hidey-hole here."
Tom's face had gone pale, and I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
"Now, boys," Cliff said, his voice dripping with acerbic mock charm, "Why don't you come on inside and have a drink with us? We've got plenty of food and drink, and it looks like you might need it, after walking in on us like this."
I could feel Tom trembling next to me, and I had to fight the urge to protect him.
"We really should be going," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
Cliff cocked the gun at me. "Oh, I insist."
I tried to stay calm as Cliff herded us into the cabin and made us sit down at the table. It was just him and Rufus staying here in the small, one-room cabin.
"Now, what's your name?" Cliff asked, sitting down across from us.
"I'm Brad," I said, "and this is my son, Tom."
"Well, Brad and Tom," Rufus said, "It looks like you're our guests for the evening."
I did my best to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. I could feel Tom shaking next to me, and I put an arm around him in a attempt to comfort him
"Don't worry, son," I whispered. "It's going to be alright."
But I wasn't so sure.
