A Weekend Away

A Weekend Away

“It’s four steps up, put your hand here,” Maren guided Lyla’s hand upwards. Old paint chipped beneath Lyla’s fingers, exposing cool rough metal underneath as she used a railing to guide herself up the stairs, one step at a time. Upon its current, the breeze carried in the sweet smell of burning pine, which made Lyla immediately relax into a sense of nostalgia. There was no reason for her to be uptight; this was supposed to be a fun weekend away, afterall.

As she stepped onto the porch, the wooden floor squeaked and bounced beneath her weight. Apprehensive to continue, Lyla stayed at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing. “How old did you say this place was?” she asked, an anxious laugh to her voice.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Joel responded. “It’s been in my family for years.” A set of keys jingled as he fumbled to unlock the front door. Finally, the lock clicked and the door opened, scraping against the floor of the cabin.

“C’mon,” Maren chided her, taking her elbow in hers and leading Lyla through the doorway. Musty metallic air wafted upward, causing her to crinkle her nose. The hardwood floor groaned under everyone’s weight upon entering, and a steady drip drip rang monotonously from somewhere in the room.

“Gosh, Joel, did you not think to clean up?” Maren scolded.

“No, sorry, I didn’t think it would be like this!”

Maren let out a sigh in annoyance. “Here come the others.”

Just then, there was bustling behind them and the thuds of suitcases being dragged up the stairs. As Asa, Randy, and Delilah entered behind them, they all paused, surely in awe at the mess before them.

“Randy, take Lyla to her room so we can get this cleaned up,” Maren demanded.

“Uh, ok…” Randy said.

“But I can help!” Lyla insisted.

“You need to rest. Just go lay down for a bit,” Maren brushed her off.

As Maren pulled her arm away, Lyla felt a gentle warm hand on her elbow. It was light, like a butterfly landing upon her skin. “Uh, I’ll guide you,” Randy said quietly, gently pulling her forward. He led her three steps to the left, and ten steps forward. “Careful, the hallway’s narrow,” he guided her, five more steps down the hall, then seven steps to the right. “Here, you can sit now. It’s your bed.” The mattress was stiff as a board, and the bedsprings squealed annoyingly.

She could feel Randy’s presence before her, as if waiting for dismissal. Lyla took a deep breath. “Look, Randy, I’m pretty sure Maren’s trying to set us up.” He let out an anxious chuckle. “But just so you know,” she added quickly, trying not to make it any more awkward, “I don’t expect you to like me or anything. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know what people think of me.”

“Can I sit next to you?” He asked, his voice lighter now and more relaxed. Lyla was surprised when he didn’t offer a sign of agreement.

“Yes.”

Lyla felt the bed sink as he sat next to her. She instinctively scooted in the other direction to ensure they weren’t sitting too close.

“Can I ask what happened to you?” Randy asked gently.

“No, sure, uh…it was a car accident. A tractor trailer. I have a traumatic brain injury.”

“Wow.” He quietly said. “Can you see anything?”

“Just darkness.”

They sat in silence for a moment as each looked for something to say.

“To be honest, I can’t even remember what I look like anymore,” Lyla suddenly added.

Randy smiled. “Well I can tell you that. You have blonde hair, freckles across your nose, your eyes…” He leaned closer to inspect her, causing Lyla’s cheeks to flush red. “Although you’re blind, they’re still pretty.”

“Thanks,” Lyla said, tucking her hair behind her ear as she tried not to fidget in embarrassment. “What about you? What do you look like?”

“Eh, I’m pretty average,” Randy shrugged.

“May I?” Lyla asked, hesitating with her hands in the air

“Oh, sure. Go ahead.” Randy took her hand and guided it to his cheek. Underneath her fingertips, she felt the stubble of facial hair and the angular points of his jaw. Moving up his face, she lingered over his eyes. They were kind eyes, with the slight wrinkle of crow’s feet. Next, she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the strands between her thumb and pointer finger.

“You have curly hair?” She guessed.

“Yeah.” Lyla heard the smile in his voice.

She brought her hands back to her lap, playing with the zipper from her jacket. “Well, I’d say you’re probably more than average.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Randy snorted. “I guess I should go help the others,” He added, sounding truly disappointed. He strode five steps before halting. “Lyla?” He asked.

“Yes?”

“You shouldn’t let Maren boss you around like that.”

Lyla felt her cheeks grow hot again. “Oh, it’s not like that. She’s just watching out for me, that’s all.”

“Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you’re helpless.”

Lyla didn’t respond, for she wasn’t so sure he was correct.

“Alright,” Randy interjected her thoughts, “I’ll see you at dinner.” The door creaked close as his footsteps grew more distant. With a sigh, Lyla leaned back on her bed and closed her eyes.

Later in the evening, a juicy savory smell wafted through the house.

“Lyla, you should’ve waited for me to come get you,” Maren exclaimed upon seeing Lyla shuffle into the living room, hands extended to either side to feel her way through the house.

“It’s no matter. I smelled something delicious and thought dinner must be ready.” Lyla said as Maren grabbed her by the arm and led her to the table. Sitting, Lyla ran her hands over the dense wood, her fingers catching on small, sharp etchings.

“What are these writings?” She asked curiously, tracing the shapes with her fingertips. Chairs scooted in around the table as the others took their seats.

“My grandma, she made us carve pictures on the table every summer we came up here,” Joel finally explained. “Sorry, I’m no artist.”

The others laughed at his joke as Maren slid a plate in front of Lyla and placed a fork and knife into her hand. Lyla fumbled a bit until her fork finally trapped a morsel of food. Placing it to her lips, she was surprised at the tenderness and sweetness of the well-seasoned meat. “This isn’t chicken, is it?”

“Uh, no,” Asa chimed in, having cooked the meal. “Got it from the deli in town before we left.” Knives scraped away at glass plates as the others dove into the meal. “Randy, you’re not going to have any?” Asa asked, sounding a bit offended.

“Nah, I think I had a bad burrito for lunch or something.”

“Suit yourself.”

That night, Maren abruptly entered Lyla’s room, causing her to startle from her place on the bed.

“I have a dress for you to wear tomorrow evening.” Her cousin stated, plopping down next to her.

“Why? I brought other clothes.” Lyla scowled.

“We like to dress up on Friday nights; it just makes things a little more fun.”

“What does it look like? Can I feel it at least?” She asked, extending her hand out towards her cousin.

“Fine.” Maren placed the fabric in Lyla’s hands. It was light and thin.

“What color is it?”

“White.”

“It feels awfully thin. Is it see-through?”

“No, you’ll be fine.” Maren brushed her off, standing up to hang the dress in the closet. She was quiet for a few moments as Lyla listened in anticipation. “What did you think of Randy?” She finally asked.

“He seems nice,” Lyla answered, turning her face away to hide the blush of her cheeks.

“You know, I don’t know him that well,” Maren responded, sinking once again onto the bed, the mattress shifting under her weight. “He only joined our study group a few months ago. Hopefully he’s not a weirdo.”

“You’re saying that now, after we’ve come to a cabin in the middle of nowhere,” Lyla laughed.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Maren smiled. “At least we’ve got Joel and Asa.”

Lyla went to bed early, but awoke in the middle of the night to a low hum emanated from below the floorboards. Annoyed, she got up and made her way through the house, whispering her friends’ names as she went. “Maren? Joel?”

The musty smell of the living room still lingered, and the drip drip from somewhere in the house was audible once again. She decided to go outside and breathe some fresh air. Walking slowly onto the back porch, the cold winter wind wrapped her night gown around her, drawing her hands up to her arms to conserve heat. Despite the chill, Lyla relaxed in the night. Before her accident, she was always in the woods, camping, hiking, exploring. But now, this was the closest to nature she had been in a long time. To feel bark under her fingers, and the crunch of leaves under her heels…she wouldn’t go far, just to the treeline. Moving carefully and methodically, counting each step she took, Lyla managed to find a step down from the porch. Her stride widened in excitement, as the forest felt so near.

Suddenly, something caught the edge of her toe as she raised her foot. Sprawling to the ground, Lyla landed hard in the dirt. Righting herself, Lyla felt the earth around her, wondering what had caused her to fall. Her hands landed upon a mound of dirt that protruded noticeably from the ground. As she investigated further, a rustling from the woods caused her to sit up at attention. Steady footsteps were coming her way.

“Hello?” She called, her voice shaking. Surely no one else was up at this hour. Lyla strained her ears to hear.

“Lyla, what’re you doing out here?” Randy spoke, shocked to find her there. He rushed to her side, leaves and twigs crunching under his hurried steps.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t sleep. There was…a humming from the basement.” Lyla spattered. “What about you? What’re you doing out here?”

“I couldn’t sleep either,” Randy shrugged. “But I found a trail in the woods. Maybe I could show you tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” Lyla smiled.

Just then, the back door of the cabin whipped open, smashing into the side of the house. “What’re you two doing out here?” Maren snarled, marching quickly across the porch. “Lyla, are you OK? Did he do anything to you?” By the sounds of the two other pairs of footsteps behind Maren, Lyla knew Joel and Asa were with her.

“Get away from her, man,” Asa threatened, as Lyla felt Randy’s hand pull away from her arm.

“Stop it!” Lyla shrieked, trying to calm the tension which hung palpable in the air. She took a deep breath as everyone froze. “I’m fine. Randy was helping me, that’s all. We both couldn’t sleep.”

“C’mon,” Maren said, taking her arm rather aggressively and leading her back towards the house.

The next morning, Lyla awoke and made her way to the dining room table. By then, the others were up and breakfast was under way. The table seemed quieter than usual, as everyone focused on the plates of food in front of them. She traced shapes in the wood with her fingernails, finding a triangle and another more complicated shape with many angles.

“Where’s Delilah?” Lyla asked. She heard the others freeze, forks scraping against plates halting in unison.

“She left last night,” Maren answered tersely.

“But how? She rode in with us.”

“Asa took her home after you went to sleep.”

“And Randy? Where is he?”

“Don’t know,” Joel grimaced.

“How do you not know?” Lyla questioned. “He was a perfectly nice guy, and all of you were so rude to him.”

“No, Lyla; he was weird,” Maren retorted. “After we found you last night, he went back into the woods and hasn’t come back. That’s not normal.”

Lyla let out a breath. She could tell everyone was on edge. “Look, I know you just wanted me to have a good time this weekend. I’m sorry if it hasn’t worked out.”

“Don’t be silly,” Asa answered with a smile. “We have one more night here. Let’s just reset and start fresh. It’ll be a good time.” Everyone around the table agreed.

For the rest of the day, the friends played games and told stories. Lyla adorned herself with the dress Maren had given her, placing a shawl over her shoulders to help her feel more secure in the thin fabric. Asa made a meatball dish with a well-seasoned sauce and pasta for dinner. Afterward, everyone sat around digesting their food and laughing some more. For the first time in five years, Lyla had fun. The others, even Maren, treated her like a normal person, and she was able to laugh and joke like the rest of them.

As day faded into evening, the others rose to take a walk, while Lyla returned to her room to rest a bit. Shortly after she laid down, the humming from the previous night rose once again through the floorboards. Annoyed and curious, she got up, feeling through the house until her hands landed upon a door where the humming seemed more prominent. As she opened it, a blast of cool air wafted upwards, and she knew it must be the route to the basement. Bracing her hands against either wall, she carefully made her way down the stairs. After the last step, her foot landed on concrete. The hum became a steady whirring sound just slightly in front of her. Lyla shuffled toward it, heart racing.

“Don’t touch that,” a wary voice rose from the darkness. Just then, there was a mechanical click, and the whirring slowed into silence.

“Hello?” Lyla asked, feeling her eyes move left and right searching for the presence, even though she couldn’t see.

“Where are the others?” It was Randy. His breath labored heavily, urgency replacing the kindness in his voice.

“Randy, what’re you doing down here? What was that sound?” She reached out her hand, but jumped in surprise when he grabbed her wrist. His grip was tight and cold.

“It’s a meat processor. Look, I turned it on so you would come down here. It sounded like the others left. Are they gone?”

“Yes, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me a bit.”

He didn’t answer. Instead he started in the direction she came, his grip tightening around her wrist as he led her towards the stairs. “We have to go now.”

A shiver of fear crawled down Lyla’s spine. Maybe Maren had been right all along; maybe Randy was a weirdo. “Stop!” She screamed, jerking her wrist from his grasp. “Randy, you’re scaring me.” Lyla tried to control her tone, but she could hear the tremble in her voice.

Suddenly, his hands landed upon her shoulders. “Listen to me, this isn’t what you think. They killed Delilah, and before that someone else. Joel came at me with a knife. He thought I was dead, so he brought me down here. They’re going to kill you too. They put them in this machine down here. I saw them do it. We have to get out of here.”

“What’re you talking about?” Lyla reached out her hand, trying to get a sense of Randy’s stance. Her hand rested just under his collarbone, causing him to wince in pain. Drawing back, a warm sticky substance coated her fingers.

“C’mon,” he said, grabbing her and leading her quickly to the stairs. “Listen to me, Lyla. Thirteen stairs, OK. Then, if you go outside where we were last night by the graves, go straight into the woods, follow the trail. It’s 1,237 steps. That’s walking steps, so probably less if you’re running. There’s a road at the end. It’s a quiet road, but maybe, just maybe, a car will pass at the right time. Do you understand?”

“The graves?” She breathed as he hoisted her up the last few steps until they were once again in the living room.

“You’re not listening!” Randy exclaimed in anger.

Just then, the front door scraped open. The others came bustling in, laughing and talking loudly. Upon seeing Randy and Lyla half way across the room, the group went silent.

“What’s going on here?” Joel asked slowly.

“Lyla, come here,” Maren scowled.

“I thought you put an end to him, Joel,” Asa spoke under his breath.

“Lyla, run!” Randy shouted, shoving her forward. She couldn’t keep her feet under her as she fell to the ground. A plethora of footsteps scurried in her direction, only to be halted by the sound of fists hitting flesh and the scramble of chairs toppling and scooting across the floor. “Run!” Randy called again, his voice heightened with adrenaline.

Still unsure of what to believe, she couldn’t ignore the plea in his voice. She jolted up. Three steps forward and one to the left, that would get her to the back door. She threw the door open, the cold air hitting her in the face. Five steps across the porch, then a step. She overestimated, falling in a heap after not accounting for the running pace.

“Lyla!” Maren called. Lyla heard her cousin still in the house, but this time, her tone was different. It wasn’t the controlling Maren she knew…but a sinister sing-song voice. Lyla sprung to her feet and started again, listening to the rustling of the forest as her guide. 1,237 steps to the road. In the distance behind her, she could hear another set of footsteps, but she didn’t know who they belonged to.