by Phil Andamonium (1738 words)

The silence in the cabin was palpable. The kind of silence where you can hear a slight ringing in your ears. Where there is an uncomfortable ache as if the air has become bruised.

***

Jane and Bunny went way back. Friends, not close at every turn, but in and out of each other’s lives. Jane had asked Bunny to come along and play the old admirer and create a situation for Jimmy that would embarrass him while pushing him further into his own opaque twilight. Push and punish.

It is amazing how small slights, festering over time, can create havoc. How a past unwitting action can spark an incandescent flame that burns through the present, leaving nothing but ash.

And at this point, there was absolutely nothing, really nothing, that doting Margie could do to come to the rescue of her dearly beloved brother.

***

The amazing part is that Jimmy did not recognize Jane or Peter. I mean, even though they were younger, Jane and Peter had run in and out of his writing circles for years. 

In Jimmy’s heyday when he had fame and contract income, he had once dated a younger and fetching Bernadette Peters. As noted, Jimmy liked attention. Indiscriminate attention. Continuous carnal attention. Sex, whenever and wherever available from almost any source. “Bunny,” nee Bernadette, had gone from fandom, to being starstruck, to part of the entourage, to being part of the book tour, to being spurned. The sex did not really measure up to the expectation. Being close to the supposed nexus of power was its own aphrodisiac. But at its end, young Bunny got dumped, and Jimmy simply shuffled on.

 Even though Bunny’s cousin Peter was willing to forgive and forget and move on from such youthful indiscretions, Jane was not too keen about letting go of what she perceived as Jimmy’s potentially criminal sexual conduct in regard to Bunny. 

Jane and Bunny were thick as thieves, and it did not take much for Jane to convince Bunny to come and set the trap. Guessing Jimmy’s depressed condition and knowing his love for large therapeutic doses of scotch, all Bunny needed to do was create the scene. “Take that, General Hospital!”  

Subterfuge, Jane and Bunny, Jane and Peter, Bunny and Peter, Charles and Bunny. 

Jane, Peter, Bunny and Charles had a quiet moment. It was a knowing. It was not humor, but it was some kind of quiet self-satisfaction. It was an unspoken understanding of years of outrage.

Unbeknownst to Lucy as she watched, was the fact that no one else, certainly not her to this point anyway, had seemed to connect the dots between Bunny and Charles as a couple. 

Ex-cop, true crime, not! 

To add to this mid-blowing weekend, add the weather, add the “murder,” and another story was being prepped to be added to the J.P Deverall series. Art imitating life. Revenge being best served cold. Noir.

All the couples needed now was some time to let things sit, some way to deal with Lucy as an unknown, and then a way to get the police up the hill to press charges. Think, damn it, think!

***

“Was it good for you?” Jane chided.

Bunny stuck out her tongue and smirked. “Gag sister. Jimmy was no good when he thought that he was good. Just assure me when the residuals come along that I am still part of the J.P. Deverall plot!” 

“Oh, you are definitely part of it,” Jane hummed, “and as you noted, Jimmy’s sexuality is whatever musters the most attention at the time.”

“He’s a drunken, washed-out cretin,” Bunny added with a hiss, “inept then and flaccid now, disgusting,”

At this point, Lucy’s head was absolutely spinning. Down which rabbit hole had she fallen? What kind of nonsense were these women talking about? And why were Chuck and Peter listening, so knowingly, so quietly? And from their body language, why did Bunny and Charles seem to be reflecting each other? Even though the two men seemed to have an understanding of this situation, the two women gave off a menacing vibe. Something sinister and dark. Something incomprehensible.

Not knowing why, Lucy felt sick. Disoriented. She felt lightheaded and weak-kneed. Staggering just slightly, she muttered, “Question?”

With all heads slowly rotating her direction and eyes watching with no small amount of menace, Lucy blurted out, “What, I mean, why, uh, um, I don’t get what is going on!”

Chuck and Peter eyed each other sharply. Bunny sighed and shrugged.

Jane’s voice was low and sure, “This does not concern you. This is none of your business. You are not part of this story, and you will not become a liability to us. The fact that you are so slow-witted that you would follow me is your bad, not mine. The business that we have here this weekend is between Jimmy and Bunny. No more, no less.”

Again, an uncomfortable stillness. Peter, knowing Jane’s petulance, swallowed. Chuck shifted uncomfortably from his right to his left foot, slowly, quietly.

“But, uh,” now her voice rising like a child’s, Lucy said, “I do not know a Jimmy. I do not get what you are all up to. Is this Bunny? I cannot figure out why you seem to be so together. What is this talk about ‘good for you’? I mean, I don’t know, I just feel sick.”

As Jane wheeled on Lucy she shouted “Sit!!” and with that, Lucy shrank into a rickety chair.

The quiet returned, the kind of quiet where you can feel the pulse in your neck. The kind of stillness where the forest comes alive, where raindrops left from the storm can be felt as they contact the earth, the kind of skin-prickling breathlessness, that starts to give way to nervousness, leading to fear.

“Alright, now what?” Jane demanded to no one in particular in her group. Again, more nothingness and some feet shuffling. 

A slight cough from Charles. “Maybe,” he said, “since Lucy knows nothing, once we call the police, we walk the back trail out of here as planned and leave this mess behind. We could just let her go back to the lodge.”

“Absolutely not!” Jane exploded. “Jimmy is going to suffer. We are going to file a report of sexual assault, and if nothing else, he gets what he has had coming while we get on with our next series.” 

Peter, not saying a word, slowly nodded his head. Bunny, defiant in posture, arms crossed tightly over her bra-less breasts and face a faint shade of crimson, just nodded gravely. 

Lucy chirped, “Sexual assault?” 

Peter sighed loudly.

“Um, uh,” Lucy stammered, “assault, Jimmy? Are you talking about Jasper, the worn-out, burnt-out, aged-out author? I mean, what the hell. No.” She quietly started sobbing.

The lack of human interaction that permeated the small space was painful. No one moved, it seemed like its own still life, each person frozen in place. Jane obviously at the center and holding the others in her gravity. Bunny growing pinker and more enraged by the minute. Charles and Peter standing silently, eyes alternatively looking for an exit but then downcast realizing the growing trap that seemed to be closing.

 Lucy glued in terror to her chair, trying as best she could to cry and as quietly as possible and just let the tears flow, taking deep quiet breaths, not wanting to sob.

Emitting a long sigh through her mouth, Jane said, “Alright. Let me think. Everyone find a place to chill for a couple of minutes and let me see if I can pull this shit show together.” They sat, they waited. It was less than two minutes, which in the space felt like much longer, but no one spoke.

Peter offered, “How about taking her back to the lodge and making it look like that creepy Ficino did something to her? I mean, he seems wired and hostile so it might make sense since I heard her saying that she ‘knows’ him, right? That might work?” That hung in the air and seemed to be dying.

Jane answered sharply with a word, “Don’t. Not now. Stop. Just shut up.” 

Peter was not deterred. “But, we need to do something, Jane.”

“I am on my last string with you Peter, just shut the hell up and let me think,” Jane spit back.

One last try from Peter, “Yes, we do need her cooperation, and if not that, some way to guarantee her silence, but I am less comfortable with an assault.”

Jane eyed him with disdain. “We are up to our eyeballs in assault already, and I need you to Stop.”

At this point Lucy’s eyes were like saucers. Even though she had been holding her breath, she exhaled with a “But…”

Immediately cut off by Jane who, while shooting daggers, growled, “NO!”

It was then that they heard feet and voices. Barely imperceptible. Not the sound of being quiet on purpose, just not making much sound. Not from the lodge side, not from the root-knurled trail that had brought them to the cabin. No, it was from the other side. Back in the woods. Far enough to not be close, but close enough to pick up the sounds of the debris being trod upon the forest floor. And there were also voices. Faint, approaching. No one making much noise, just deliberate steps, and soft voices.

But as the steps became closer, there was one voice that seemed to be accompanied by shuffling feet. Slurred speech, uncertain steps. Not making any quick movements, just slow careful progress towards the back of the cabin.

“I’m good. You can let me go.” Slurred but quiet defiance. “I do not want to go back to the lodge. I just want to be left alone. I do not even know who you two are or how you found me.” 

“We have you. We will help you. We have to make sure that you are safe and then we will return to our tent for the evening. It is important to us that you are safe and not left out in the elements in your condition.”

There was the sound of a slight struggle, more of a rumpling of bodies and seemingly one being dragged intermittently, but they came closer. A soft fluttering of bird wings…

***

“It’s Jimmy, oh my god, they are bringing Jimmy here,” whispered Jane.