The Pictographs

Sherry had been waiting for this trip for five months, ever since the booking opened up for the camping season. Now, as the calendar page was a day away from being flipped to October, it was time to think about packing.

"Our trip is coming up on Monday!" Sherry reminded Jasper as they rose from their bed on Friday morning.

"Yeah, I know," he did not sound enthused. He never really did at the prospect of doing anything with her anymore. Sherry tried not to let his attitude dampen her own - she had waited too long for this.

"Are you sure you don't want to bring the kids?" He asked while donning his work clothes.

Sherry felt irritation boil in her chest and forced herself to reply calmly.

"We took them camping twice this summer," she proclaimed. "You know that going on trips alone together as a couple is important to me. I need to be able to spent time with just you. Besides, it is so hard to relax when you are constantly watching children."

He sighed and did not reply.

Sherry observed his well muscled back and dark hair from where she was perched at the edge of their bed. As always, he seemed in a rush to get somewhere else, turning away from her and shutting off any earnest possibility at communication.

Sherry was used to it. It was like that anytime she had anything important to say.

"Where is it again?" Jasper asked, poised to escape to his work truck.

"Achray Campground. It's on Grand Lake in Algonquin."

"How long of a drive is that?"

"About three hours."

"Three hours?" He did look at her then, blue eyes wide. "That's such a waste of time! Could have just gone to one of the closer parks. It's all the same anyway."

Except it wasn't.

"It's Algonquin," Sherry retorted, getting up from the bed and shaking out her dirty blonde hair. Why didn't he get it? "It's not like any other park!"

There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other.

Sherry broke the eye contact first and moved to retrieve the house coat which hung over the back of a chair.

"You know what?" She asked, slipping on the garment, "why don't you just stay home if this is such a waste of time? I can get Faith to come with me instead. She is free next week. Stay home and relax."

Finally, something close to care and hurt crossed his sharp features. He came over and gave her arm a squeeze with his large fingers.

"No, I do want to go with you," he said and pulled her in for a hug.

"Do you now?" Sherry asked, with just a slight bit of tartness.

"Yeah, I do. I look forward to spending time with you alone."

Their hug was tense, Jasper remaining mostly aloof; comfort and tenderness were not his forte.

At least it seemed for the moment like he was trying.

Who knows? Maybe we will actually have a good time, Sherry thought as they parted for the day. With a renewed sense of anticipation, she went off to start preparations.

***

Achray Campground, whilst completely packed at the height of summer, was sparsely populated at this time of year. Only the most seasoned campers had braved the chilly nights and brisk air of October to set up along the edges of Grand Lake.

For their efforts, these few were rewarded with spectacular autumnal displays.

The lake was as sharp and clear as a mirror, the reflection of the multicolored foliage on its surface unblemished by swoons and ripples. It was impossible to tell the sky and water apart, the horizon dissolving in this perfect merging of two entities, lost in splashes of orange, red and yellow leaves. The forest framing the lake was shrouded in deep silence, guarded over by tall red pine sentinels and disturbed only by the rustle and chitter of woodland critters.

Their first day was dedicated to hiking the Baron Canyon and the Jack Pine trails, neither of which was particularly exerting. Yet the striking views from the cliffside into deep, blue waters and the trek along a white sand beach littered with dry leaf offerings of deciduous trees were exalting in their own right.

Sherry was relishing the sweet satisfaction of freedom found in the surrounding wilderness. Her heart was as light and carefree as those branches which had blissfully discarded the dead weight of withered foliage. Jasper too had an ease about him not usually felt back at home, as though his heavy burdens had been temporarily lifted up to the heights of the clear autumn skies.

By the time night had settled in the two were sitting snuggly by their crackling campfire. They were joking and laughing as they had in the old days, before the responsibilities of adulthood had overwhelmed them and they had lost their spark.

"It is nice here," Jasper commented, chewing on a handful of cashews, his features stolid in the firelight. "What should we do tomorrow?"

"I was thinking a canoe trip," Sherry offered and pulled out a map she had picked up earlier from the park store. Unfolding it, she spread it out on her knees and leaned forward in her camping chair to examine the contents. "It really isn't a trip to Algonquin without one."

"Oh look," she exclaimed with excitement and pointed a finger to a spot on the map. "It says there are indigenous pictographs somewhere on this island here! We should check them out."

"Sure," Jasper replied. He was generally agreeable to things she wanted to do; even when it seemed like he did not care for them.

With the course of action decided, they continued to watch the fire as the night deepened around them.

Entranced as they were by the glowing ambers, neither heard the approaching footsteps until a loud snap of a twig alerted them to a presence other than their own.

Sherry and Jasper jumped up in shock, her gasping in surprise and him rising inquisitively.

"Sorry folks," an old ranger said cheerily, "didn't mean to startle ya - just doing the nightly rounds."

The name sown on his khaki shirt read "Ronald."

"That's alright," Jasper said as Sherry slowly released the breath she was holding. "Just glad it wasn't a cayote sneaking up."

"Oh no, they won't be coming too close so long as there are any campers - and if they do come lurking they don't bother humans none. Unless you got a dog," the old man smirked.

"That we don't," Jasper laughed.

Sherry had an idea. Rising up from her camping chair, she walked over to Ronald with the map. "Say, would you happen to know where these pictographs are? Can we see them from the water or do we have to get off on the island?"

The old man chewed a lip and examined the map.

"Ah yes, these ones you can see if you bring your canoe right up against the cliffs. Not much there though if I am being honest," then he leaned over to Sherry, the shadows of the firelight deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. "But I'll tell you what, girl, if you want a little something extra."

"Beach your canoe under the cliffs and if you ain't afraid of a little climbing, you can scramble up to the top pretty easy. You two are still in good shape, so won't be too much sweat off of your backs," the old man laughed. "Once at the top, look around and you'll notice a slight trail through the jack pines to your right. Leads deeper up the slope and to a crevice in the rock. Maybe a thirty minute hike in that is."

"What's in the crevice?" Jasper asked, curious in spite of himself.

"That there will be a cave and in that cave you'll see a bit more of them drawings," Ronald screwed up his whiskers. "You be careful though - that area is off limits to tourists and we don't speak of it much. Every once in a while when I know someone has an interest in this sort of thing, I let it slip."

"I understand," Sherry said. "For preservation reasons, it is best to keep heavy traffic away from the site to keep it from being damaged."

"That's one reason, that is," Ronald shifted his eyes, leaned over closer to them and lowered his voice to whisper. "But also it is said that bad spirits dwell there. As the story goes, some people died around that cave a thousand years ago or so."

"What happened?" Jasper couldn't help himself, excited at the prospect of the supernatural.

"As the story goes, a young girl, betrayed by her lover, lured him to that cave to meet one last time. When the man came she stabbed him straight through the heart with a dagger. Used the blood to draw the images on the cave wall which summoned a demon. That evil spirit possessed her to jump off the cliff into the lake, taking her own life."

Jasper and Sherry stared wide-eyed at the man, lost for words. He returned their look steadily, before cracking into a wide, gap-toothed grin.

"Then again it's just a story," he laughed and turned away. "Still who knows? If you do go, make it back before sunset so you don't get stuck out there with the ghosts."

With that, he left them to their ponderous silence to enjoy whatever remained of the fire and the night.

****

They rose early the next day and ventured out into the morning waters of Grand Lake while the sun was still at work dispersing the floating fog clouds. They rowed out at a leisurely pace, making it down to Carcajou Bay by noon. Finding an array of islands in the Bay intermingled with a variety of cheerful waterfalls, they brought their canoe to shore and had a refreshing dip in the brisk autumn waters. The day passed quickly and it was not until later in the afternoon that the couple found themselves gliding up to the orange stained cliffs in search of the promised pictographs.

A close examination of the rockface soon revealed what appeared to be a faded "E" shape, alongside various triangular carvings.

"Do you suppose this is it?" Sherry contemplated.

"It certainly looks manmade," Jasper offered. "The ranger did say it wasn't much to look at."

"Unless we get off here and climb up to that cave he mentioned," Sherry said tentatively.

"A thirty minute hike - do you suppose there is enough daylight? We have to remember that there is no reception in this park. If something happens we'll be pretty screwed."

"I think we will be fine. Remember Vermont? We got stuck going down the mountain at night with a dead phone and still made it out."

"Alright - let's do this," Jasper agreed after thinking it over.

They brought the canoe up unto shore beneath the cliff and scrambled out, looking upward to find the best way to the top. There was only about thirty feet to climb and the ascend did not seem particularly treacherous. Obvious natural foot and handholds of protruding rock jutted out all along the precipice. Keeping their packs light, Sherry and Jasper quickly ascended to the top and looked around to locate the trail described by the ranger.

It was hidden away, overgrown by shrub and toppling jack pines and the pair almost missed seeing it. However, Sherry was not one to give up and after several minutes of thorough scouting, was able to locate it.

After a generous coating of tick spray had been applied, the couple ventured into the woods, bear mace at the ready should such an emergency arise. The sunlight still shone brightly, although the golden orb was already beginning its descend to the west. They had probably and a bit over an hour until sunset.

As anticipated, the hike did not take long, although the footing was uncertain, with gnarled roots and scattered rocks often marring their path. Yet Jasper and Sherry were experienced hikers who did not to fall victim to such natural traps. Steadily, they scaled the terrain upwards until eventually they reached a breach in the trees. Beyond that, a bald pate of granite that marked the peak of the mount they had just climbed was revealed. Straight down its middle, a great jagged crevice split apart the rockface.

They had reached the cave.

"Flashlight ready?" Jasper reached in his pack to grab his own.

"Yes, let's remember to be careful - we don't know what we will find in there," Sherry felt an anxious thrill in the pit of her stomach, a precursor to doing something potentially dangerous.

Slowly, they inched towards the cave and with a final look at one another, stepped softly inside its yawning mouth. The light of their flashlights revealed nothing but dripping water on the rocky walls, but the passage delved deeper inward, disappearing into dense darkness. The cave was wide enough for them both to walk side by side and they explored further into the gloom for a while, the subterranean chill around them steadily rising. Yet they found nothing more interesting than clusters of underground fungi and stalactite formations stained with calcium.

"Should we go back now?" Jasper said at last.

"But we haven't found anything yet!" Sherry was exasperated.

"Yes, but the cave was cool enough. We don't know how far in those pictographs are. It surely must be close to sunset - we are going to have a hard time climbing down that cliff in the dark."

"Please, just ten more minutes!" Sherry begged. "If we don't find anything by then we will head back."

"Alright," Jasper was resigned. "Just remember we need to leave early in the morning, since Polly has a guitar lesson in the afternoon. We can't be stuck out here all night."

Picking up the pace they plunged onwards into the cavern, the darkness growing steadily more impenetrable as they went. They were having a hard time seeing anything outside the range of their flashlights.

"Sherry, it's time to go - we still need to get back through the woods," Jasper's frustrated baritone echoed off the cavern walls.

"There!" Sherry exclaimed, her anticipation finally reaching a cathartic climax as she found what she was looking for. Her hands trembling in excitement she pointed her flashlight and it illuminated the rock wall about eight feet ahead. They had found the end of the cave.

Upon the wall they could see distinctly the ancient pictographs, deep burgundy linear stains sharply contrasting the pale granite and lime surface whereupon they were drawn. Sherry inched closer until she stood right beside the images. Something about them seemed eerily skeletal, as though the art depicted a burial ground covered with bones. Among what suggestively implied human remains, was a figure sitting cross-legged, arms outstretched above its head.

The abyssal silence of the cave pressed heavily against Sherry's eardrums and in that silence she heard whispers, as though emanating from the pictures on the wall.

"Do you hear that?" She asked without looking back. A chill rose along her spine and spread along her body, goosebumps rising on her flesh.

"Hear what?" Jasper came closer but exhaustion caused him to misjudge his footing. He tripped, arms coming up to catch his fall. A loud crunch followed, echoing in the hallow gloom as he landed awkwardly on his wrist.

"Damn it!" He screamed, sitting up and cradling his injured arm. "This is all your fault for dragging me here in the first place! I should have stayed home and relaxed."

"Just like it was my fault when the service tech didn't install our washer properly since I must have been distracting him?" Sherry turned on him, not bothering to hide her anger. "And how it was my fault that you ran out of gas while waiting for me to pick up our bikes from the shop, even though the sales rep took forever to get them?"

The whispering in her ears became more urging and pressing.

Ungrateful... a ghostly voice uttered... belongs with the bones...

On the wall, the cross-legged figure began to glow with a sickly green light. Jasper saw it and his eyes widened with terror.

"Sherry!" He gasped, pointing towards the pictographs with his uninjured hand.

But his wife was incensed now and payed no heed to his gesture, her eyes burrowing into his own.

"It seems like everything bad in your life is my fault," Sherry's voice rose to an eerie, otherworldly shriek. Her arm, of its own volition reached out behind her and touched the glowing figure on the wall. The green light caught her fingers instantly, inching along her arm in snakelike tendrils. Jasper stared on in terror as the woman in front of him slowly turned to a glowing, green specter.

"You should be glad you broke your wrist - it will give you an excuse to be lazy," Sherry's eyes were glowing too now. "Not like you need it. I scrub toilets, do dishes, clean after the children while you relax because you can't be bothered to help me. And then you bitch about going on the one trip a year I get to spend away from my obligations?"

Unforgivable... the spirit's voice was enraged... he thinks he owns you, that you are a slave to be discarded at his whim...

"Sherry! Sherry stop! What are you doing?"

His place is with the bones.

Sherry was a green torch, her hair flying around her as though electrified. Her face became skeletal, cheeks hallow and black like the cave around them.

Slowly, Sherry's fingers found the pocket knife hidden in her pants.

The glowing woman, cloaked in a shroud of righteous vengeance, stepped toward the man kneeling on the ground.

The ghostly light gleamed upon the blade.