My Novel: Chapter 33

Chapter 33...  (see below)

Running:

I've run on the East Coast and the West Coast and many places in between. There is no perfect place to run, I've found, unless maybe it's in my own happy little village.

Writing:

I've edited basking by a pool in California and under an umbrella in my own backyard. Mostly I do it sitting at my computer in my office--just a regular place, except it's mine and I love that area. Writing tip: There's no secret place to edit, only non-secret tips for editing, such as: 1.) Toss out repetition. 2.) avoid cliches like the plague (hee, hee, hee...). 3.) If something doesn't add to the story but detracts, zap it with the delete key. 4.) Keep sentences a manageable length. (I hate that tip--it assumes the majority of readers are distracted and can't keep up with a thought or story line if the sentence is more than ten words long.) 5.) Keep punctuation under control, including colons, semicolons and everything else besides the good old period.  6.) Stick with all the rules you've heard your whole life concerning capital letters, paragraphing, conjunctions, spelling, run-on sentences, etc. These are just a few of the many editing tips.

Never be afraid to zap something. If you know how to write, and you lose something you loved and can't find it again, you'll soon learn how to not lose things. That, or you'll recognize your power to write and produce something even better to take it's place. Never fear editing! Make it enjoyable, not tedious... (Add if you're addicted to this little cutie --!-- then use it in places that matter least, like your blog!)

Secrets at Midnight

Leona Palmer Haag

Chapter 33

A gun handle peeked from the top of Jenn's purse. She pulled it out and opened the chamber. Loaded. The adjacent note read: Gone exploring. I’ll return for lunch. You know what to do with this.  —Matt.

The waistband in her sleep pants wouldn't keep a gun from sliding down her leg so Jenn set it aside. She plunked Katie on a chair and served cold cereal, wishing Matt were around to cook pancakes over the fire, but of course, he’d refuse because smoke scared him.

After dressing the gun nagged for attention but Jenn knew she'd feel stupid with it in her pocket. She had once watched a TV show about people who willed things to happen by obsessing about them. Would carrying a gun force her into needing it? Or would the opposite happen? No matter which, her thoughts continually tripped over the stupid gun until thoughts of it felt heavier than the actual weapon. Finally she stuffed it in her back pocket—the good old 'better-safe-than-sorry' theory winning.

Next came packing. She couldn’t do it fast enough, but figured Matt would stall their departure. Schemes on how to budge him flooded her mind—some so bizarre they’d never succeed. She’d stick with health and safety, but no matter how convincingly she faked cramps or a fever, he probably wouldn't respond.

With lunchtime hours away she pulled a junk closet open and searched the wreckage. When she found an old fanny pack she dusted it off and loaded it with essentials for Katie in case they had to leave without notice. She carried it out to the Jeep and stashed it under the front seat.

She closed the Jeep door and gazed around—wildflowers soaking up sunshine, Katie chasing a bumblebee, a bucket lounging by the pump, a squirrel looking for nuts—as foresty as any mountain scene could get. Without warning the skin on the back of her neck crawled, sending shivers down her spine. She spun around.

No bears.

But it had felt like something—no, someone—was watching her.

Scooping up Katie she raced for the cabin and bolted the door. She leaned against it and analyzed the incident—no twigs had snapped, no one had whispered—nothing tangible set her off, just a gut feeling.

The front curtains hung wide open inviting in sunlight and prying eyes. She crossed the room and peeked around a fabric corner. For several minutes she watched the trees fringing the meadow. Nothing stirred. Sure no one was outside, Jenn shut the curtains. Katie, clutched to Jenn’s hip, begged for release, and she finally consented. She scampered through the cabin creating pattering footsteps and baby chatter echoes.

With her heart rate leveling out, Jenn returned to the junk closet. An ancient wooden puzzle had caught her eye—something she’d steal if she dared. She’d display it in the break room at Daisy’s. With her hands deep in dust and junk she dug for more treasures and uncovered a plastic bag filled with old tin cars—an antique toy collector’s gold mine. Boxes, old laundry baskets and buckets filled with assorted odds and ends mostly contained trash. One warped basket toppled from the top shelf to her feet and spilled its contents, revealing one little piece of interest—an old Indian head nickel. Everything else could have been tossed out ages ago and no one would have missed it. And no one would miss this either. She tossed the coin onto the counter to wash before pocketing later. This might be her first theft ever.

At the back of the closet Jenn found a pile of rags, ancient towels and old blankets loaded with junk stacked waist deep. Hooks above held assorted jackets, sweaters and an old cowboy duster. A much newer broom than she’d used stood half hidden behind dusty fabric folds. Pulling it free, the duster fell, revealing a hidden door.

Backing away from her own personal horror movie experience, Jenn slammed the closet door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard. Listening, and finally certain nothing from behind that secret door and the depths beyond had stirred, she left her guard post and grabbed a chair to prop against the door handle, trapping waking skeletons in their coffin. 

Matt rapped on the front door, sending Jenn into cardiac arrest. Katie toddled to the door and gave a rapped reply with a wooden block. Jenn raced across the room and scooped up her daughter, swallowed to open her airways for speaking, and squeaked, “Matt?”

“Home for lunch,” he replied through thick wood. 

Jenn unbolted the door and let him in, gushing, “We have a problem.”

He looked past her toward the tilted chair. “You locked a skunk in a closet?”

“Worse. A skeleton. Maybe a mummy.”

He pushed Jenn behind him. “What have you got?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

His voice lowered. “Give me a clue.” He’d silently dropped his pack to the floor, and now squatted beside it and unlatched a pocket and reached inside.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “There’s a door behind the door behind the jackets.”

Rising, only a small glint of metal visible in his hand before it vanished in his shirt, he turned his eyes to her. “A what?”

“A door behind that door that goes somewhere. I don’t know where. Maybe to a dungeon.”

A smile spread across his lips. “You locked a door behind a door?”

Nodding, Jenn stepped away, her back pressing against the front door.

“Well done,” he said, chuckling. He crossed the room, pushed the chair aside, opened the door, stepped from view, and moments later called from the closet, “Good find!” His head appeared. “Fetch the flashlight from the mantel.”

Feet glued to the floor, Jenn couldn’t move, so he strode across the room to fetch it himself. He disappeared, only to call out, “You’re a genius, Jenn. You’ll love this.”

 Behind the hidden door—one made to be unseen, not just hidden because of the mess—a rickety ladder descended.

“Hand Katie down,” Matt called from the dark pit.

Clutching Katie tighter she replied, “Not on your life.” She inched forward and saw Nick’s flashlight beam bouncing over mounds of unidentifiable junk. “More trash?”

Matt chuckled. “Nope. King Tut’s tomb waiting to be plundered. Come and see.”

Nothing looked enticing so she stayed put.

A baby high chair appeared at the top of the ladder, followed by Matt’s head. “Been looking for this?”

“No. Katie sits on a chair.”

The high chair disappeared, but was followed by a child’s swing. “Katie will love this. We can tie it in a tree out front.”

Jenn carried the swing to the sink and rinsed off grime as Katie excitedly chattered.

Matt called up, “I found a rubber raft, life jackets and a canoe. Want to play in the lake across the valley?”

“No. I want to go home.”

Matt emerged with his arms full. “You don’t like this adventure?”

“I’m homesick. I want to suffocate from humidity because it means I’m warm. I saw my breath when I woke up this morning. That’s happened exactly never before in my life, and I hope it never happens again.”

Matt chucked. “This isn’t Texas. Look at things from that angle and have fun.” He washed his hands and looked around the kitchen. “Do you want me to make lunch?”

Sitting at the table, Jenn sighed. “I love Texas—so make barbeque.”

Matt fried chicken thighs and doused them in barbeque sauce and served them with wilting greens. Afterward he washed dishes, then cut off a section of rope from the stash he’d found and headed out the door to hang a swing. Jenn sat on the front step and watched her daughter squeal with delight as if she’d experienced no life before Montana. When she swung back he said, “Now, happy little mountain bluebell Katie but, tell me how I can talk your mom out of being a grumpy bear. This place has its perks.”

Over supper—warmed over chicken served on stale rolls—Matt said, “There's a crib and potty chair down there. Do you need them?”

Jenn shook her head.

“I found fishing poles and a tackle box. There’s mountain climbing gear, helmets with headlamps for caving and an air mattresses if we have company. If you want more candles they're in a box next to a big plastic container filled with clean pillows.”

Jenn perked up. “Clean?”

“Feather. New. With tags.”

“Bring me one.”

“Get it yourself.”

When they finished eating, Matt returned to the darkness below. Moments later he appeared with pool balls and cue sticks. “I knew I'd find these if I looked hard enough.” He set up and the cabin filled with the sound of balls clinking and sinking into pockets. Jenn curled up on a sofa and read to Katie from books Matt had found in a plastic container that had sealed out dust.

As darkness closed in Matt abandoned his game and pulled out the lantern. Jenn reached out and touched his hand before the match lit the mantel. “Candles are dimmer.” He lit a single candle and shadows flickered and Katie's eyes danced.

“Try to reach Nick,” Jenn whispered.

Matt reached no one. It was as if nothing existed beyond the cabin door. Jenn sighed—so alone. Then she remembered back many hours. “I felt something this morning—as if someone watched me—not a bear,” she whispered. 

Matt looked up from his phone. “Did you see or hear anything?”

She shook her head. “I felt creepy-crawly, nothing concrete. Maybe an old ghost chose now to haunt me.” She rubbed her arms, fighting off chills.

“Do you want me to light a fire?”

“Flames dispel shadows in the dark, not those in the mind.”

He leaned forward and studied her. “We’re safe here, Jenn. When I go exploring I’m making sure of that, not searching for lost diamond mines.”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, her eyes turning to the candle’s glow. For many minutes she watched a thin thread of dark smoke rise from the hot white flame. Beads of ivory slid from the lip, trailing down the length.

“Go to bed. Get some rest. We’re safe.”

Rising slowly to not awaken Katie, Jenn crept up the stairs. With only faint moonlight revealing what her hands already knew how to do, she changed her daughter and dressed her in jammies. She pulled back the covers and found a new feather pillow. She buried her nose in it—verifying it was clean. She crept to the railing and whispered into darkness, “Thanks, Matt.”

His voice floated up. “Sweet dreams, kid.”

For a moment Jenn lay in bed thinking about right and wrong. How right it was to be kind and thoughtful—like Matt when he hung a swing for Katie, found her a feather pillow, and turned on the generator so she could vacuum. And how wrong it was for her to be rude—like threaten to blast a hole through him after he found her sunning in her undies. And how wrong it was for her to treat him so badly when he was doing all he could to keep her and Katie safe and happy. It seemed like another place in time that no longer existed when she’d taken out the trash and her life changed, yet the images of the wrist with fingers slightly curled on the hand remained vivid behind her eyelids. She wished for the millionth time it had never happened—that no one had tampered with her innocence.

It was right to apologize to Matt for her thoughtlessness caused by accumulating anxiety and fears, and wrong to blame him for everything forced upon her. She’d do it in the morning, following up with pancakes and syrup.

A tiny click shattered the stillness.

Jenn’s heart chilled and her stomach tightened into a hard knot. Matt was armed. She’d guessed as much already, and possibly saw a portion of his weapon earlier that day, but now she was certain. Her mind raced between reality and fear. Was this the first night he slept with a loaded pistol? Probably not. But was there more danger tonight? Possibly. Hadn’t she felt something earlier? 

Every unknown threat swelled into monstrous proportions. Frozen in bed with a bundle of warmth snuggled against her, Jenn entertained waking nightmares—the thousand terrors of the mind that spring to life at midnight that no one wants to tackle in reality.

Aching from internal tension, she willed herself to let Matt handle the villains. She relaxed her grip on Katie first, then battled with her shoulders, fighting to unlock muscles from head to toe. Panic eventually melted and sleep crept forward. 

End Chapter 33

We are past the halfway point of chapters. Can you believe it? I have 32 more chapters to post! Yay!  I'm loving sharing this novel with you. I hope you're curling up with a down feather pillow and enjoying it too. Don't forget the chocolates!