The Trail

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

Silas blinked. Shining his flashlight on the map, he traced the path he had taken the day prior.

“Trout Lake to Bear Pond, 5 miles…” he muttered. He folded the map and unfolded it, as if this would reveal the cabin that sat right off the trail. In all of his research for the trip, not one article or website mentioned a cabin between mile markers 20 and 30.

Branches overhead rustled in a cool breeze.

Silas checked the time and swore to himself. The opportunity to make camp with a shred of daylight was long gone. Ignoring a prickling feeling of doubt, he walked towards the cabin.

The rotted wood steps groaned under his weight as he approached the front door. The windows on either side glowed invitingly with yellow candlelight. If he looked closely enough, he would have noticed the dozens of discarded boots scattered around the cabin. He was too tired to care.

He knocked twice on the door in a way he hoped was friendly. No answer. He knocked again and waited for a beat longer. Still no answer. He resisted the urge to peer in the window and knocked a third time to no avail. Compelled by frustration and fatigue from the day’s hike, he grabbed the doorknob and turned. The door swung open on oiled hinges to reveal an old woman sitting alone at a small table. She looked up, terrified.

“Oh-oh-oh-“ she stood and backed up, fingers splayed out against the wall and eyes wide.

“Ma’am I am so sorry-“ his apology was interrupted by the woman’s gentle laughter.

“Oh dear,” she sat down in her chair and patted the table beside her. “You gave me quite a fright. Come sit. You must be tired.”

Silas obliged and took off his pack. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I somehow lost track of time- my friends know a lot more about this trail than I do, and they never mentioned your cabin. It seems like it would be a significant landmark out here.”

The old woman smiled.

“They started a day ahead of me and we agreed to meet at Havish Lake Camp this weekend. Maybe you saw them? Tom and Alex are their names. Tom has an orange pack, and Alex would be wearing his blue cap if I had to guess.”

The woman said nothing in response to Silas’s questioning. Instead, she gestured to the tarnished kettle set on the table runner. “Would you like some tea? I was just about to pour myself a cup.”

Silas considered pressing further, but acquiesced as she poured his tea with shaky hands.

The hot tea soothed his tense muscles, and the two sat at the table comfortably. The wind had picked up outside to a near constant howl. They shared stories of their respective experiences on the trail. Silas was not surprised to find that the woman was once an avid hiker herself, and listened intently to her descriptions of the waterfalls and caves that the casual passerby would often miss. Together, they emptied the teapot and finished off a plate of snickerdoodles.

“Well, I suppose we should turn in. You have a long hike ahead of you tomorrow.”

Silas smiled. He would have to hike a little less than four miles to reach camp and meet his friends. “That’s a good idea. Let me clean up, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Alright then, you’ll find a bedroom on the right side of the hallway. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The howling winds outside had reduced to a gentle patter of rain on the small window in the guest bedroom. Silas flicked the light switch on the wall, and a lamp illuminated the room with flat, oily orange light. A twin bed with a threadbare quilt awaited him, and he climbed in without taking off his socks. He was asleep within minutes.

He woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The storm was over, and the absence of white noise unnerved him. The room was pitch black. Silas fumbled in the dark to switch on the lamp, but nothing happened when he turned the knob. He grasped for his pack, and found it in the corner of the room. Blindly, he rummaged through the contents for his headlight. Nothing felt like it was in the right place. He was meticulously organized, especially for instances like this. Finally, his fingers closed around the elastic strap to his headlight, and he pulled it out of the pack. Brilliant, blue-white light burst from the unit when he pressed the button, and flickered out immediately. “Whatever,” he mumbled as he stuffed the useless light back into the pocket. He pulled back the quilt on the bed and lay down on the lumpy mattress. Sleep did not come as easily as before. The oppressive silence taunted Silas, promising to be disrupted by some disturbing sound or another. Wide awake, Silas’s ears pricked at the sound of something large being dragged outside of his window. It was an unfortunately unmistakable sound. Silas swallowed thickly. He had half a mind to wake the old woman, but decided against it. He stared at the ceiling as the sound stopped abruptly, then started again. His eyes closed and did not open again until morning.

Silas did not mention the sound to the old woman as he prepared to leave, but he did tell her that the lamp in the guest room might need a new bulb. Part of him did not want to acknowledge what he heard last night, although he told himself that he did not want to alarm the old woman unnecessarily.

“Thank you ma’am,” he looked up at her as he laced his boots “It was great to meet you and to have a place to stay last night. When we head back this way, my friends and I will help you with any chores you need done.”

The old woman took his hand as he straightened up and held it gently. “No need dear, but you and your friends are welcome for a cup of tea any time.” Her grip on Silas’s hand tightened and she stared past him for a brief moment.

“Ma’am, are you alright?”

Her gaze focused and she looked up at him, smiling. “Perfectly fine. As a matter of fact, I believe I did meet your friends. Tom, you said? And Alex?”

Silas nodded emphatically. “Yes, that’s them.”

“Yes, one had an orange pack, and the other was wearing a blue cap, just like you said. Nice boys. You’re not far behind them. They said they would wait for you at Havish Lake Camp.”

“That’s great news! I had better start moving, thank you again!”

“Of course dear. See you soon.”

Silas practically sprinted down to the trail.

The hike to camp was pleasant. Dappled sunlight carpeted the trail, and the temperature was warm for September. When Silas found Tom and Alex, they were hanging towels and swim trunks to dry. Tom’s orange pack rested against a tree, and Alex was wearing his beloved blue cap.

“Silas!” Tom ran up to meet him and clapped him on the back. “We were starting to wonder if something happened to you. That rain last night was something else, huh?”

Silas chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I spent the night in that cabin a few miles back. A nice old woman lives there. Alex, she kind of reminds me of your Aunt Grace.”

Tom and Alex exchanged glances.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was there? I couldn't find it on the map as a landmark, but it’s impossible to miss.”

An awkward silence filled the space between Silas and his friends. Alex broke it by coughing drily.

“Maybe you can show us this cabin on the return trip, Silas.”

“What the hell? Show you? It was right there!” Silas felt a cold sweat break on his forehead.

“Maybe we missed it,” Tom offered. “There’s a tent pad next to mine. You can set up there. I’m boiling some water soon if you want to make dinner.”

“Dinner sounds good,” Silas sighed, entirely aware of Tom’s attempt at a diversion.

That night, the three friends sat around the campfire for hours, getting caught up on each other’s lives since their last meeting.

“We need to do this more often,” Alex announced after a moment of comfortable silence. The other two grunted in agreement. Silas set a log strategically on the dying embers. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Tom stretched out his legs and groaned as his boots nudged the makeshift fire pit.

“About fourteen miles tomorrow, sixteen if we want to camp at the river. Speaking of which, I should hit the hay. I need my beauty sleep if I’m going to keep up with y’all.” He took his time folding up his camp stool, and grabbed his towel from the nearby branch. “G’night.”

“Night.”

Alex looked at Silas across the fire. “Going to stay up for a bit?”

“Probably.”

“Mind putting out the fire when you go to bed? I’m beat.”

“No problem.”

Silas stared at the dancing flames while his friends snored in their tents. He fought to ignore the nagging feeling of dread that crept over him as he thought about their reaction that afternoon. I just have to show them the cabin, he thought. Maybe they weren’t paying attention when they passed it. Every single time they’ve hiked the trail. Since Alex moved to Washington. Six years ago.

With a pit in his stomach, Silas doused the fire and went to bed.

Dawn arrived with a cacophony of chirping birds that would wake the heaviest sleeper. Silas blinked to clear his blurry vision, and checked the time. 5:45 a.m. By sheer force of will, Silas sat up and unzipped the door, shoving his feet into his boots that sat outside. He exited the tent, eager to start the day’s hike. The trip was finally going according to plan.

Silas felt his heart drop as he saw the campsite in morning light.

He was alone. Not only was he alone, there was no trace of Tom or Alex. Their tents were packed up, towels and trunks taken down, even the ashes from last night’s fire were buried in dirt. It was as if they had never been there at all. Silas was livid.

Without bothering to shout for his friends, Silas set to packing up as quickly as possible. “We should do this more often,” he said to himself, mockingly. “To hell with you guys”. He decided to follow the trail after them, give them a piece of his mind, and then go home.

After 30 minutes or so on the trail, a feeling of deja vu washed over Silas. Of course things look familiar, he told himself. It’s the forest. He continued on the path, determined to catch Tom and Alex by surprise. They would never see it coming. The trail curved to the right up a sizable hill that seemed to go on forever. Silas marched up the hill, breathing more heavily than he would like. As he reached the top, something caught his eye on the other side. Another cabin, he thought.

He braced his knees for the descent and gingerly walked down the hill. As he drew closer, he realized with a lurch that it wasn’t a cabin, it was the cabin. It looked like something was on the front steps, but his view was obscured by branches. He continued walking, desperate for any clarity to his horrible morning. “How…” he forgot to close his mouth as he approached. He fell to his knees as he realized what was on the porch.

An orange pack, a blue cap, and his boots.