Five Days to Bliss

The crickets chirped in unison, their lively crescendo fleeing the darkened forest, making me wonder, not for the first time this week, if this were the life I'd have chosen all along had I known this place existed. 

The heavy thud of a boot propping up on the cooler beside me doesn't detract from the beauty of the dark, whispering trees. 

Five days. 

It's been five days, and already I'm listening more closely, attuned to and relishing every sound, every symphony of the universe. Magpie's heavy boots, the glug glug of the wine she pours into my glass, the crickets in the forest.

Five days since my boss, Alec, a self-proclaimed Weekend Warrior who ate breath mints like he owned stock in Altoid to mask his mysteriously rancid breath, entered my bleak beige office with inexplicable enthusiasm and told me to pack a bag. 

Five days since I'd stopped wondering when my big break would come, having never expected it to arrive at the expense of my gender. 

Five days since I exchanged decades of hard-earned degrees, internships, and career-focused perseverance in law enforcement for a little slice of anarchy. 

What else could I do? Magpie presented me with an invitation to escape the cuckold of the patriarchal-infested corporate grind. Rest assured, I've never fallen under any delusion that law enforcement is anything other than regulated corporate greed.

After years of being passed over by less qualified male counterparts, Alec stormed into my office and told me they got a call from up north; they needed an agent, specifically a woman. So, I was summoned. 

I wanted to throw my stapler right at his stupid face. 

Instead, I went home and packed a bag.

-Five Days Ago-

It was a four-hour drive north to Cold Creek—a negligible town without government, law, or taxes, so far and deep into the woods that none of us had even heard of it. 

The three neighboring towns shared a small police station, all of which accepted Cold Creek as a lawless settlement. The locals knew it as a place where women went, but it was rustic and backwoods, and the women kept to themselves, so typically, no one paid them any mind.

Though an agent of the law, I found the idea of a town technically walking the tightrope of anarchy romantic. 

Flipping through the sparse file on our long drive north, I read aloud for Alec's benefit.

"In the past year, five women have disappeared from around the state into Cold Creek. Fifteen in the last eighteen months from the region, more going back a few years. In some cases, the woman would leave a note explaining where she was going before abandoning her partner, job, or responsibilities—all the women claimed they were moving on to something better."

Though Alec was driving and facing forward, I could see his eye roll, which only bolstered his next comment: "Sounds like a bunch of women on the rag."

I ignored him and continued, "According to this, there are no phones and no way to contact anyone within the settlement. You have to meet someone at the gate, often an armed guard, and she will pass along a message. They keep a phone at the border and have a walkie system within.

"One of the missing women, her husband's a DA, he's the one that called us. It says here that she planned on divorcing him, but he refused. Because of the sheer number of disappearances, the agency wants to confirm there's nothing nefarious going on."

We drove past blurring trees and dense thickets too fast to enjoy the view. When we finally reached the one-stoplight town neighboring Cold Creek, I was surprised to find the local police lounging at a picnic table outside a gas station.

The officers tipped their hats, seemingly unconcerned about whatever crime egregious enough to warrant two out-of-town FBI Agents making the trek as they munched on red hot dogs and sipped giant plastic Slurpee cups. 

"See, at first, we weren't too concerned," one officer explained once we settled in. "We'd get a call, a complaint about someone going missing. Somebody's cousin, sister, wife, whathaveyou. But they often left notes, and in many cases, the loved one'd get a call, and the missing lady would basically say, 'I'm fine, I'm safe, I'm in Cold Creek.' Claimed they'd moved on, leaving all their worldly possessions behind. Makes no sense. But far's we can tell, there's no crime, 'cept the carelessness of just leavin' your life behind like that.

"After a while, though, the numbers began to rise. Five turned to ten, turned to fifteen. Now, close to fifty different women from all over decide to leave their lives behind to live in some kinda hippy commune? Just don't sit right. So, we sent one of our officers, gal by the name of Audrey, in to have a word. Well, after about a week, she called and resigned from the force and said she'd be livin' in Cold Creek from now on. Ain't that some kinda shit?"

The three mouthbreathers shook their heads in unison between giant bites of hot dogs. After a minute of silent commiseration, they finally remembered my presence and turned to me.

"So, in all cases, the missing women have been accounted for," I confirmed.

"Yep."

"But you want me to go in there and confirm they're all okay, and since I'm a woman, and you have none left in your entire station, I'm your best bet."

"Yep."

Alec asked, "And when we spoke on the phone, you said you've tried entering the town yourselves but were unable…?"

"Yep. Got the place on lockdown. Ladies with shotguns surround the perimeter."

-Four Days Ago-

Sometime over the last few years, someone dug up the only road leading into Cold Creek and planted trees and bushes. Once well-matted and worn, the dirt road now ended abruptly, a clear delineation between us and them.

After emerging past the thicket of leaves and sharp vines, the road opened up once more, continuing unobstructed. There, I found a woman with an assault rifle swung over her shoulder, leaning against an ATV. Audrey, the missing police officer.

I felt a presence in the trees, but after looking around, I didn't see anyone. I could only hear the sounds of nature enhanced by the blinding sun that shone on Audrey like a spotlight, as though this entire thing was a performance.

It's there that she tells me, her eyes penetrating and pleading, that all they seek is peace. She tells me the world is unclean, a mess of violence, corruption, and greed. 

She sounded like a fundamentalist. As my training taught me, I listened patiently and with an open mind, climbing onto the back of her ATV while she continued her story.

Clutching her waist as we drove into town, passing more dense woods, the occasional driveway, and neglected mailboxes shrouded in branches, we arrived at the center of town—nothing could have prepared me for the sight. Like Dorothy landing in Oz, everything seemed to light up in shades of neon green, yellow, and blue. The sky seemed more vibrant, the trees brighter. 

In the town's center, women greeted us, warm and welcoming, despite my status as an outsider. Unsure if I was entering a hostage-type situation or doing a simple wellness check, I kept my thoughts and opinions to myself as we continued slowly through town.

Everyone smiled. It was too much smiling. 

Women carried baskets of laundry perched on their heads. They stood together, gathered around a long table beneath the awning of what looked like an old grange hall, shucking corn and laughing. A massive pot swayed, suspended over a rich smoldering fire as they tended to the cooking food. 

It was a community like I'd never seen; the embodiment of collective contribution, they worked like a synergistic unit, passing tools and sharing responsibilities.

I didn't realize Audrey stopped the ATV until she climbed off, holding her hand out for me to follow.

-Three Days Ago-

Questioning my sanity was becoming a habit. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, that moment when I was drugged or brainwashed or exposed to some virus that held all these women captive.

There was no leader—no doctrine or secret language. There were no signs of a cult or even forced group activities. 

There were doctors and lawyers and renounced housewives. There were mechanics and engineers. There were men, too, though they were few. They weren't banned, as the outside world led us to believe, but they were in the minority and kept to themselves. There were children and families, too.

The entire town of Cold Creek ran off-grid. They constructed their own greenhouses and farmed their own food. They cut trees down, built their own homes, and dug their own wells. They used solar and wind energy to light up their town and community. They had no need for the outside world. 

I was beginning not to need it, either.

The air was clean, the water fresh, the food robust and hearty. 

I had a list of women to check up on, but I found each one with a smile on their face and no desire to leave.

-Two Days Ago-

Though I brought my phone with me, there was zero reception, so I let the battery die. Unsure what the week held, my boss Alec and I agreed that it may be a few days before he heard back from me. 

Neither of us was concerned about my ability to resist the call of Cold Creek, but as time passed, I felt increasingly reluctant to return to my life.

Back to my beige office. Back to my boss, my job, my mortgage. 

I kept thinking about all my years of study and how little I had to show for it, that my very presence here had more to do with my gender than my qualifications.

Magpie, one of the original locals, let me stay in her cabin while I investigated. She had an easy way about her. We stayed up late each night talking; she listened and didn't try to advise or preach. 

It took me two nights to get the courage to follow her to bed, though she invited me the first night. Magpie wasn't technically under investigation, but sleeping with her was likely against the rules. 

The longer I stayed in Cold Creek, the less I cared about the rules. 

Magpie was lovely, strong, and intelligent. I shared Alec's comments with her about how a town full of women must have decided they no longer drove stick, but it just made her laugh.

As I lay awake that night, I stared up at the ceiling, tired from the day's labor since I'd been pitching in with the locals—though no one asked me to—gathering information for my report, keeping sleep elusive.

I got out of bed, careful not to wake Magpie as she snored softly beside me and crept out of her room. It was dark apart from the soft light of the moon, a beam shining through the window pane just bright enough to light the kitchen table. I sat down and stared at the blank piece of paper, willing myself to write my report.

My hand shook as I tried to bring pen to paper. Like a vice grip clutched my throat, I couldn't form the words I knew my boss was expecting. 

-Yesterday-

It was in the undercurrent beneath my skin. It hummed a beautiful tale, threading all my lonely pieces back together. It was quiet, then it was loud. It wasn't a decision; it was an awakening.

"I'm not coming back," I tell Alec, standing at the border of Cold Creek, facing him and the two local officers who had been casing out the entrance for days. They'd have snuck in, but the women of Cold Creek had the woods and perimeter well guarded, and no one was interested in starting a firefight.

Alec, incredulous, gaped like a fish before finally spitting out, "You have got to be joking. Did they brainwash you? What's really going on in there?"

Not wanting him to investigate further, I attempt to explain. I tell him it's peaceful. It's self-sufficient. It's free of socioeconomic infringement. It's classless, stateless. It's safe, and for many of the women inside, including the former wife of the DA, that's all they wanted.

"It's communism. You're a fucking communist," Alec spits out, sneering and pacing back and forth in front of me. Magpie waits patiently at my back.

"Actually, it's more of a meritocracy—"

"I don't care what it is. It's anarchy. You can't just quit your job and go live in that commune. I'm calling the IRS. I'm sure there's some violation they're—"

"Alec, leave it alone. There's nothing illegal going on here. It's not like that."

"I'm not letting this go."

I look back at Magpie, who shrugs and smiles softly. I glance up at the woods behind us, noting the women hidden amongst the trees, armed and ready with long-range rifles.

"Then we'll be ready."

I reach my hand out, and Magpie takes it. We ignore the shouting of men behind us, shedding the cloak of societal obligation, the burden of judgment, and expectations. 

We walk through the forest into bliss.