Nightingale Songs (24 page)

Liam could almost see her despairs clustered around her, like the flies on the porch light. "Try and forget school and work and everything
.
We're supposed to be on vacation. Remember?"

"I told you, I'm fine. Can you drop it?"

"Okay, okay. Relax," he said. Marcia bristled in the chill. "What are you doing
out here anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep. The room was suffocating. I needed some air." She swiped at the flies, but they stayed close.

"How long have you been up?"

"Not long."

"I promise I'll get the window taken care of tomorrow. I'll break it if I have to."

She smiled, and rubbed her shoulders.

"It's so quiet out here," she said. "No cars or city in the way. It's like I can hear for miles around me."

"Really? All I hear are the bugs."

"I thought I heard Halley and Ken talking
just a few minutes ago, just before you came out here. That's how clear the air is."

Liam glanced at the other cabin. Its lights were out.

"Are you sure? It doesn't look like they're even awake. What were they saying?"

"Oh, I couldn't tell
that
, but I'm pretty sure I heard them speaking
.
It wasn’t loud, and it wasn't for long -- probably just a moment or two."

Liam shrugged his shoulders, and then wrapped his arms around her to keep her from shivering. He kissed her forehead.

"Marcia, will you please talk to me?"

She looked at him again, her eyes scrutinizing
his face, and took a breath to speak, then she stopped and said, "There! Did you hear that? Did you hear them talking?"

"Come on inside," he said, then stood and offered
her his hand. "You can ask them about it in the morning."

Liam felt dehydrated when he awoke a few hours later with his head hurting and the sun out to get him by stinging
his eyes. Marcia fared no better; she moved as if in a daze, barely able to speak from exhaustion. There was an hour until it was time to walk through the woods, so Liam took the opportunity to find his way back to the main cabin and see if someone could come and repair the window. He suggested he go alone, worried that Marcia might need a little more rest. She gave him a strange unfamiliar look.

Even in the morning
daylight, the path still meandered, and Liam could make little sense of it. Surely, there was an easier way through the litter of cabins. Yet, when he tried to deviate from the blue stones, he found himself quickly stopped by one obstacle or another. The path seemed completely different than it had the night before -- as though every blue stone had been lifted during
the night and placed in a different location. It was a silly idea, he knew -- to do something
like that would require an army of hands.

The main cabin was as empty as it had been the night before. Liam recognized the furniture immediately; it was identical to what he had in the cabin, right down to the same worn edges. The artwork on the walls was equally uninspired, and he questioned again why he had come on the weekend trip. Liam felt vindicated when he saw the activity board standing
in the corner and realized it had been wiped clean, the smudges of a green dry-erase pen streaked across its white surface.

Liam rang the little bell a number of times before he accepted
that no one was coming. He tried the different doors inside the larger building as he looked for help, but each was locked. He thought he heard a sound from behind a door marked "Employees Only,” but it only occurred once, and was gone so quickly that he must have imagined it.

It took slightly less time to return to the cabin, and when he arrived, Marcia, Halley and Ken were standing
in the clearing
between buildings. The three of them were huddled close, talking, and Marcia seemed no less tired than when he had left. They saw him approach, and stopped their discussion.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just waiting
for you . . .and trying to find
out if they were talking
last night."

"And?"

She looked at Halley, then Ken. "Um . . .they don't really remember--"

"He's inside, you know," Halley said.

"Who?"

"The man to fix your window." It was as though she thought she was stating
the obvious.

"But, I couldn't find anyone at the front desk."

"Ken spotted him walking
by and flagged him down."

"It was the least I could do."

"Are you ready to go?" asked Marcia. She sounded
impatient.

"Relax. I just want to change my shoes. I'll be right back."

The inside of the cabin was still warm, though direct sunlight barely touched it. From the bedroom he could hear the grunts and muttered curses of someone working. He stood at the doorway for a moment and watched.

The maintenance man was older than Liam had expected, with broad shoulders. From his rolled-up cuffs stretched two muscled arms that worked
like a machine on the lip of the window. When he turned to the toolbox open at his side he saw Liam and his wrinkled eyes squinted through beads of sweat.

Liam resisted the urge to flee.

"Um . . . Sorry. I wasn't . . . I mean -- I just wanted to get something. This is my cabin."

"You want this window open, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. It was really--"

"This is a big job. Someone wanted this thing
to stay shut. There's got to be forty or fifty nails in here. I'll be working
on it for a while."

"You mean nobody here did this?"

"Hell, no. They know better, though I don't know who else could have. You're the first to complain."

"Why would someone do that? You'd think the heat in here alone would change their mind."

"You've got me. I'm just trying
to figure out how I'm going
to fix it without ripping
the whole window out."

"Well, I don't want to get in your way. I'll just grab my boots and get out of here."

The maintenance man stood. On his coveralls, Liam could see the name "Garfield" written in flowing
script above the left breast. "Going
for a walk around the cabins?"

"No. We think we're going
to see what's on those paths in the trees."

The man's squint returned, then he turned his back on Liam and returned to work. "Well, be careful. It's a big place out there."

The two couples began their walk, and entered
the wall of trees along the path of gravel that had been laid down.

Once inside the forest, Liam was amazed to discover how quickly the trees had engulfed them. One minute he was able to see the way back, the next he saw only branches and leaves behind him. Marcia dragged her feet as the group moved in a cluster across the rough gravel path that weaved between the trunks. It had not been replenished in a long time, and keeping
to it proved difficult -- for Halley especially.  She wore a pair of thin sandals rather than comfortable walking
shoes or boots, and they didn't take her very far before she started complaining.

"This is just awful. It's too hot, my feet hurt, and I'm getting mud all over me."

"I tried to warn you this might happen." Ken removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his arm. Liam could not believe the amount of sweat the man had produced in so short a time. Then again, it should not have been surprising
-- he was weighted down with enough hiking
accessories that he looked as though he were going
on an expedition for weeks, not just an hour. Back in the city, some sports store employee was counting
his commission dollars.

"Are you two going
to be okay?" Liam asked, and both Halley and Ken glared. Marcia sighed heavily.

"Yes," Ken said. "We'll be fine. Come on, let's go, Halley." She grumbled, but did not protest. Marcia shook her head and followed them.

Within ten minutes, Halley could barely walk, and she was close to tears. Ken blustered, instantly bothered he would have to turn back, but his arguments seemed forced and lifeless and Liam saw relief in the heavier man's sweat.

Liam was ready to turn back as well, but Marcia wanted to continue. She had been quiet all morning, stuck in her daze, no doubt working
off her tiredness, but she was also a little distracted as well. She had stopped periodically during
the short walk, cocked her head, and listened. Liam heard nothing
beyond Ken's elephantine feet upon the leaf-litter, but, whatever it was, it captivated Marcia. When he asked her about it, once Ken and Halley had turned back, Marcia seemed confused.

"I'm not listening to anything. I'm just thinking."

"You've been acting strange ever since we got here. Is there something going on?"

She did not stop walking; she only slowed her pace.

"No," she said, eventually. "There's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about things."

Liam didn't feel well. Perhaps the heat was affecting
him, too. "What things?"

Marcia stopped. She turned her head from him and hid
her face as a dark fly buzzed past her. The leaves in front of her rattled, pushed by the breeze.

"Marcia?"

After a long moment, she pointed. "There's another path over there," she said. "I wonder where it goes."

"Marcia, what's going
on?"

"I'm -- I'm going
to follow it, Liam. I'll see you, soon."

Liam put his hands on her shoulders, but she shook free and started walking. Ahead of her were the faint markings of another trail, barely visible from where he stood. He was about to follow her, but thought better of it. She wanted space to figure things out, and he would give her that space. Liam was not going
to run like a puppy dog after her, nor was he going
to let her cut short his own walk through the forest. Suddenly, he found it invigorating, the only thing
about the weekend that had been even remotely interesting, and he wanted to go further, to see more. It was better than sitting
in the heat of the cabin alone, or spending
more time with Halley and Ken.

The path grew darker as the trees grew closer, their branches woven
together to form a canopy too heavy for sunlight to penetrate. Around him were the noises of the forest, the sound of branches creaking
and unseen animals and insects scurrying. In the shadows, the path had been worn so thin that he almost missed its turn, and following
it took him on a steep angle downwards.

The trees thinned out the further he descended, letting
light slip back in, until eventually he reached the bottom of the slope and found a rocky, dirt-filled bed -- the remains of a dried stream or river. The ground had been shorn to the rock, and nothing
grew but weeds within the crevices. Liam looked to the higher ground, and could see the sharp edge of it hanging
over the area, the perfect place to perch.

Upon it, Marcia stood.

Or, at least, it looked like Marcia. She was too far away to be sure.

She stood there, unmoving. Liam waved, and wondered if she could see him from where she stood. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called her, then stared as he awaited her acknowledgement.