Lookout Lodge

Gabin and Marlo,

I am wondering if you two would be willing to help out after school this week. If you can, I would pay you each an extra $100 per day to clean some lodges after school.

I was hoping you tow could do the following:

Sunday (10.31.21) after school clean Lookout Lodge

Monday (11.1.21) after school clean Paradise Falls

We would pay you your normal hourly rate and then I would add $100 for each of you each day. Please let me know if it is possible. You could come here and get supplies and vehicle. 

Thank you,

Natalie C. Fraye

General Manager

The Sunrise Inn & Spa

Logan, OH 43138

740.765.3249

"Why do you think Natalie emailed us instead of just having Ruby text us?" Gabin asks, slowing down to go around a sharp curve.

"Why are you asking me?" Marlo, her younger sister, replies from the passenger seat. Her eyes are on her phone as she speaks. "You're the psych major.”

"Maybe Ruby needed reinforcements." Gabin says. "We have been saying no a lot."

"That's not our fault. We've both been in school."

She's right about them being in school, which does make them justified in saying no to working throughout the week, but something about what Marlo said rubs Gabin the wrong way. Not our fault.

"Either way, I need you to work hard at this lodge," Gabin teases, brushing off the tension, like she usually did. "No goofing off like you always do."

Marlo put her phone down to reply. Gabin glances down at it briefly and wonders who she was talking to, but forces herself not to care.

"What? I'm a great cleaner."

"All I'm saying is you've been working less than me these days."

"I'm in high school, you're in college. My schedule isn't as free as yours."

"Excuses, excuses..."

"You know what, just for that I'm taking control of the radio."

"Alright, it's 6:20," Gabin declares once they're parked in front of the lodge. The two of them hop out of the car and open the trunk to get their things. "How fast you think we can do this?"

Marlo ponders this, grabbing a bag full of clean sheets and and throwing it over her shoulder. "If everything was used, I'll give us two and a half hours."

These lodges are never quick to clean, but the idea of spending so long in one makes Gabin tired. Typically, four people are sent to lodges, and the job takes about an hour. Each lodge is different but they are all built similar. Lookout consists of four twin beds, three king beds and one queen bed. There are three full bathrooms and the kitchen.

Gabin grabs a bag and follows Marlo to the door. Before she makes it to the porch, there is a loud scrapping sound and then a thud from the left side of the lodge, almost like a large tree branch slid down the roof and fell to the ground. Marlo stares at her older sister from the front porch with questionable eyes.

Gabin drops the bag she's carrying and walks around the side of the porch. The crunch of leaves under her feet are the only audible noise. She peaks around the side of the lodge, scouting for an animal or maybe even a maintenance man that was still hanging around. But there's nothing. No animal, no tree branch, no human, nothing. Nothing that she can see.

"Must've been a ghost," Gabin offers, retrieving the bag she dropped.

"Happy Halloween," Marlo announces dryly. "Oh crap. What's the new code again?"

"Try 5384." The door chimes as it's opened.

"Geez, it's freezing in here!" Marlo cries when they enter the dark, empty lodge. "Were the maintenance guys here today?"

They toss the bags on the L-shaped leather couch. "Yeah, they were replacing a couple locks and fixing the floor in the kitchen."

"No wonder it's freezing in here!" Marlo exclaims from upstairs. "They left a window wide open."

"This door is still broken," Gabin acknowledges, pulling on the French door. It doesn't budge. These are the doors that show off the best aspect of Lookout Lodge--the large, round pond in the backyard. A paved path leads guests past the fire pit and to the large gazebo overlooking the pond. Years ago, Lookout underwent heavy renovation, but the gazebo and the small dock outstretched before it were untouched. They remain the same as they were when the lodge was first built.

"I'll text Ruby. She'll ask maintenance about."

"What did they even do while they were here?" Marlo wonders, pounding down the stairs.

"The kitchen floor looks better. Either way, it better warm up soon or else I'm gonna freeze."

"Hey, isn't this the one they say is haunted?" Marlo started. "I think I heard Kellie say she thought she saw a person standing right out there by the pond."

"Wouldn't that mean that the pond is haunted, not the lodge?"

"She also said that they find locks broken and things moved around all the time."

"Maybe it's some homeless guy crashing here on cold nights."

"Then why wouldn't they catch them on surveillance camera?"

"Sounds like you want there to be a ghost," Gabin chuckles.

"Maybe we'd get more customers if we had a haunted accommodation?" Marlo suggests.

The two of them laugh and Gabin tries to enjoy it. Laughter isn't something the sisters had a hard time doing, at least not when things were good. And for a while, things weren't good. They had nothing to joke about, only things to disagree about. Since then, Gabin became suspicious of the laughter, because when Marlo was genuinely happy, there was a secret being kept.

I hate it here. Those words, among the sea of other text messages Gabin was never supposed to read, echo in her head, sticking to all the walls of her skull.

"It is spooky to be here, alone, on Halloween night..."

They flip some light switches and discussed what each of them would clean. Marlo would work up stairs while Gabin took on the kitchen and the main floor. Whoever finished first would start on the downstairs.

"Oh yeah, could you take me to Columbus on Tuesday?"

Gabin looks at Marlo's back. "I have class. Why do you need to go to Columbus?"

"Shoot. I have that overnight college visit for Chicago University. The bus picks us up from Columbus. Do you think mom or dad would take me?"

"Probably." Something feels strange. "Do they even know about this visit?"

"I think I mentioned it a couple weeks ago." Marlo is organizing the sheets.

"Shouldn't you have made these plans sooner?"

Marlo sighs. "I guess so. I just hate hearing them talk about how I should stay in state."

"They just want you to be close to home. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?" Gabin's voice lessens. "Sometimes it's like you're running."

Marlo mumbles something under her breath, and Gabin quickly asks her to speak up.

Marlo grabs the sheets she needs for upstairs and halts at the bottom of the steps. Turning to face her sister, she almost looks reluctant to speak.

"I said, not everyone wants to still be living at home halfway through their 20's."

Gabin felt the stab but chuckles anyway. "I'm barely 23."

"And why are you asking me about what I haven't and haven't told them? What about those pamphlets in your room? Army Reserves? Do they even know about that?"

Gabin isn’t surprised by the counterattack. She knew her sister had found the pamphlets in her room. "That's just something I'm thinking about. Why bring it up when I haven't made any decisions?"

"My point exactly," Marlo gloats, starting up the stairs.

"So what's in Chicago that has you interested in it?" Gabin asks. The question is petty, but if Marlo was going to be cold, Gabin was too.

The younger girl stops halfway up the steps and glares down at her sister. "Are you asking if there's a who in Chicago?"

"Can you blame me for suspecting there might be?" Gabin challenges, not breaking eye contact.

"No," Marlo retorts sharply. "There isn't a who." She marches up the rest of the stairs and ends the conversation.

Gabin takes a few moments to stand alone. I hate it here. She reminds herself of those words in times like these, in the flashes of guilt she weathers through when she gives Marlo a small taste of the raging resentment she holds against her.

Putting everything aside, Gabin heads downstairs to strip the beds and collect the dirty laundry. First thing she notices once she gets to the bottom of the steps are the things that shouldn't be there. Balled up in the corner of the couch is an old quilt that has seen much better days. Gabin picks it up with two fingers. It's in need of a wash, and it is definitely handmade.

"Why would anyone leave this?" Gabin wonders aloud. On her way to bring the quilt upstairs, a photograph on the coffee table catches her eye.

"Hey, I think the guests left some things," Gabin announces once she's back to the main floor.

"What is it? Is it edible?"

"No, but it looks significant." Gabin stood in front of the broken French doors and held the worn photograph against the glass. It's of a man and a young girl. Probably a father and his daughter. The man is rugged looking, with short, coarse hair and a slight stubble. The girl looks about 18 years old, with tan skin and dirty blonde hair in a loose braid over her shoulder.

"Whoa, that was taken here," Marlo observes, coming behind Gabin.

She's right. The photograph was taken on the back deck of the lodge, with the perfect view of the gazebo and pond behind the two. It's been folded in a way that implies someone has been keeping it in their pocket or wallet for a long time. Gabin flips it over. The back says Michael & Lily, 2018.

"We should keep it, right? They might come back for it. This quilt looks special too."

"I don't know," Marlo ponders. "Both items are in bad shape."

"Even more of a reason for them to seem significant." Gabin put the quilt in its own trash bag, to keep it safe and then folds the photograph back up and tucks it into her back pocket so it won't get more wrinkled. "Some people actually love their families and want to keep photographs of them."

There is a heavy stillness within the lodge before Marlo scoffs loudly and heads over to the couch.

"Woah, hey, I was just joking," Gabin says, even though she wasn't.

"No, you weren't," Marlo snaps. "You were being honest. Saying exactly what you feel."

"Isn't that how we should be?" Gabin asks. "Maybe if we were all little more honest, we might save ourselves some trouble."

"You know what, you claim to be so understanding and knowledgeable about people. That you can read them and empathize with them, but through all of this not once did you step foot in my shoes."

Gabin can feel her fingers trembling. "It's harder when it's family. Plus, I simply don't believe a thing that comes out of your month."

"Well, at some point, that stops being my problem," Marlo says and Gabin thinks, this must be it, this must be the moment we completely fall apart.

"Fine," Gabin starts. "If we're being so honest, let me ask a question. Do you wish I had left home after high school?"

Marlo tries to keep her face neutral, but Gabin catches the hesitation. It was something Gabin had thought about a lot. When she went into college, Marlo was always pushing Gabin to get a dorm, expressing how she needed to live the whole college experience while she could. Go away, is what Gabin heard.

"Imagine all the shit you could've gotten away with if I wasn't around to snitch on you," Gabin continued, her voice raising, her body heating up. "You probably would've made it to Washington last year to meet that boy you were talking to online. If I hadn't been there to search through your phone."

Marlo is quiet, watching her sister with a blank stare. The towels she was stacking have been forgotten.

"It's true, right? You wish I was gone."

Before Marlo can even think about replying, there is a thud upstairs, followed by a series of quick thuds, which sound a lot like footsteps.

"What the hell was that?" Gabin asks.

"You're asking me?" Marlo says, voice quiet.

Gabin makes her way to the bottom of the stairs, Marlo hot on her trail. The two make their way up the stairs like a couple of cops, scouting the area and declaring when it's clear.

"There's nothing," Marlo announces once they've check the whole upstairs. Gabin is checking the French doors in the last bedroom. They're unlocked.

"Was this door locked when we got here?" Gabin asks. Marlo shrugs her shoulders. Gabin steps out on to the balcony, staring out into the night. She looks over the railing, into the dark woods, towards the pond. When she turns to go back inside, she notices where the roof juts out to protect the main porch from rain, and how close it is to this balcony. Someone could easily jump to it. She remembers the scrapping and thud they heard when they first arrived.

"Anything out there?" Marlo asks from inside.

"Nothing I can see," Gabin says, pulling her phone out to check if Ruby replied. She did.

"I don't know about you, but that extra $100 isn't looking as inviting as it was a few hours ago," Marlo rambles, wringing her hands out. "Maybe if it wasn't getting dark, or Halloween—"

"Marlo," Gabin deadpans. "Ruby said that the maintenance men said they never opened any windows, and the main floor door is the first one they fixed."

"O-kay, you know what?" Marlo says. "I think I have enough money."

She runs down the stairs. Gabin talks to her from the top of them.

"Just pack the bags back up and then we'll leave, but hey! Don't go outside until I'm down there, okay? I'm gonna check the rest of these locks."

Gabin checks all eight locks that are upstairs and then heads down the stairs.

"I told Ruby what's going on. I don't think she believes us and probably doesn't—"

Gabin gets down to the end of the stairs and looses all train of thought. Standing behind Marlo is a man that she has never met before. There is a knife her to throat.

"What do you—"

"Where is it?"

The man's voice is scratchy and low, like it hasn't been used in awhile. He has on several coats, a holey beanie and gloves without fingers. Gabin knows she has never met this man before, but she has seen him before.

"Where is what?"

His grip on the knife tightens. Marlo is ridged and barely breathing. The only time Marlo's eyes leave her sisters is when she glances down at her pocket.

"My things were here." His voice is gravel, and everything is said behind gritted teeth. Gabin notices sweat rolling down the mans forehead, despite the cold weather. "Where did you put them?"

"You mean the quilt...and the photograph?" Gabin asks. "The quilt is in that bag behind you, and the photograph...is in my pocket."

"Get it out." The knife digs into Marlo's skin, drawing blood. The girl does everything she can not to cry out.

Gabin does as she is told, but her mind is running a million miles a minute. If this man is Michael from the photograph, who was previously a well-dressed and groomed man, where is Lily? It could be that the family became strained, causing this man to snap, but the wild look in his eyes and his desperation for this photo tells Gabin that something terrible happened to Lily.

Gabin holds the photo out before her, but not close enough for the man to take it. "You have to let her go."

"Give me my picture first."

"I can't do that."

Gabin has never felt her heart beat so hard. She wonders if she'd pass out from it. If this man has some connection to Lookout Lodge, he's not going to want to leave. But Gabin and Marlo have seen his face. Who's to say he'll let them go once he has what he wants?

"You can't hold the knife to her and take the photo at the same time," Gabin debates. Marlo looks horrified, begging her sister to please, just this once, don't psycho analyze everything. Just do what the man says.

Lookout ran still for several seconds, until the man tosses Marlo behind him. He takes the photo from Gabin and the next few moments are slow. Gabin watches the mans eyes move slowly from the photograph to her own, and she knows her earlier worry is about to about to come true.

"Marlo, run!" Gabin shouts before the man rams into her, forearm at her throat. The back of her head hits the wall hard, causing waves of thunder to echo through her skull and her vision to blur. Marlo hits the man in the back with something hard and he cries out. Gabin falls to the floor. She tries to stand but can't tell which way is up. There is a huge crash of glass that makes Gabin's ears ring. She stands up only to fall into the couch. Her vision is slowly coming back. Marlo and the man are nowhere to be seen, and a kitchen chair has been thrown into the glass of the French door.

With every ounce of consciousness that she has left, Gabin rushes through the broken door and into the dark. She falls and glass digs into her palms, but she regains herself. She runs around to the front of the porch, down the steps and around the back towards the pond, where she hears Marlo scream.

Gabin's teeth chatter but she doesn't feel the cold. She hears water splashing in the distance and feels like she was running through mud. The familiar feeling of loosing time comes over her, the feeling of disappointment and shame. The expectation she had for herself to always keep her sister safe, to always understand her thoughts and needs was unmet again. I need your help with her, her father said. You can't always just be her friend. Be her sister, her guide. Because it's that simple.

Right?

Gabin reaches the gazebo and sees a mess of limbs by the edge of the pond. She staggers toward it. Be a good sister, they say. And while you're at it, be a good daughter too. She throws her shoe into the stomach of the man. And a good friend. He coughs and topples over. And a good student. Marlo flies out of the pond, spatting water out of her lungs. And a good coworker. The man tries to get up but Gabin gives him a few more kicks, and then some stomps. Well, screw all of that, she decides. How about just being a good person?

"Gabin," Marlo says, pulling her sister away by her arm. "Gabin, look."

The man has stopped coughing and instead began to sob. His arms cradle his head, which is bare now since his beanie is missing. The girls stand and watch the man crumble further into the dirt. He doesn't seem to notice or care that he's not being beaten anymore, he just cries and cries and cries.

"Do you have your phone?" Gabin asks.

"No, it's in the lodge." Marlo is soaking wet. Her skin is pale.

Gabin chuckles. "You choose now to separate from your phone?"

So Marlo runs back to the lodge and calls the police. Gabin watches the man so he doesn't run off, which he seems to have no intention of doing. The police and ambulance arrive several minutes later with warm blankets and questions. They also give answers.

"The man's name is Michael Brown," a policeman tells them. The girls are huddled together under a blanket in the back of an ambulance. "He worked at the surveillance department at the prison. His family was the previous owner of this lodge. In 2018, he brought his daughter, Lily, out here to celebrate her graduation from high school, but she ended up drowning in the pond. The Inn wanted to keep it quiet as to not drive off business, but that didn't sit well with Brown, so he tried to sue them for defamation. He didn't get very far. Lost all his money. Last anyone knew he was living with his mother in Chillicothe, but as she said during the trials, Brown was loosing his mind. He was never the same after he lost Lily."

"Did he get in trouble with the law?" Gabin asks.

"No," the policeman says. "He just disappeared No one knew where he went since the beginning of the year. I guess now we do."

After their wounds are treated, the girls are finally put into the back of a cop car and escorted to their home. The man, Michael Brown, is put into a different cop car to be brought to the police station, the fight in him completely snuffed out. Gabin wonders if he at least got his photograph.

"Hey, Gabin," Marlo says in the darkness of the car.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to clean Paradise Falls tomorrow night."

Gabin nods. "I think we can get out of it."

"Gabin?"

Marlo's voice was a whisper, barely audible as the car sped up down the road, flying past trees and sleepy houses. Gabin looks over, her face half in shadows, and realizes that her sister is crying. Quietly, but rapidly.

"Thank you."

Marlo leans against Gabin, shoulder to shoulder, cold hands holding each other. Gabin, startled by the sudden closeness of someone she never thought she'd be close to again, lets go of her suspicion and expectations, and simply holds onto her sister, all the way home.