Mystery at Mount Snowpoke Inn

Joe Westfield arrived at the inn at seven o’clock on the dot, as per his usual routine. He liked to make sure that his guests would have their coffee and their continental breakfast hot and ready by the time they got up that morning. The small kitchen, which consisted of little more than a fridge, a microwave and a stove, had already been stocked the night before, so all he had to do was carry the trays of pastries to the dining room, fetch the cups of butter and fruit jams from the fridge, and start up a vat of coffee and hot water for tea.

           It was quiet, pleasant work, and though he had no help in the mornings, he didn’t mind. Everything usually went without a hitch.

           Once breakfast was taken care of, he took up his usual post in the lobby, sitting behind the desk, waiting for the mountain travelers and skiers to tromp out of their rooms on the second and third floors and head out on their wintry adventures.

           Dylan Hobbs was the first one to emerge from his quarters, carefully carrying his long skis down the stairs and making a beeline for the dining room.

           “Morning, Dylan,” called Joe. “Should be great slopes today.”

           “Hopefully better than yesterday,” Dylan called back as he was stirring his coffee and grabbing a cherry Danish from the pastry platter. “The snow was way too powdery. I hope it’s a smoother ride today.”

           “Well it was wet last night. Keep yourself warm. Feel free to take a Thermos of that hot water if you’d like. We got lots to spare.”

           Dylan nodded with a Danish in his mouth and a Thermos full of coffee as he headed out the thick oaken door that led out into the frigid air of the mountain. As a gusty blast of cold entered the lobby, Joe shivered in his thin polo shirt and reached for his red wool sweater, wondering why he didn’t have it on to begin with.

           The next patrons to emerge into the lobby were two of the most regular guests of Mount Snowpoke Inn – Rob and Linda Schwartz. Their relationship to the Inn stretched all the way back thirty years from their honeymoon to their quarterly pilgrimages to the mountain, and Joe was always happy for their business.

           “Morning Joe!” Linda called as they headed down the stairs.

           “Rob and Linda, what’s it going to be today?”

           “We’ve got some shopping to do at the village before we head for the slopes!” Linda beamed as she and her husband poured themselves coffee.

           “Shopping? The jewelry store still has stock to offer you?”

           “Don’t worry Joe, I’m watching her.” Rob assured him, “She’s keeping it light this year.”

           “Yes but we’re still hitting Snowheel’s. They’ve got some nice sales on really good designer boots.”

           “You have at least three pairs of those already, Imelda Marcos.” Rob took a raisin muffin as his wife smirked at him from behind. “By the way Joe, I’m keeping my eyes peeled today. They’re saying that she’s back on the slopes this week.”

           Joe’s brow furrowed. “By she you mean – “

           “Yeah. That… person. Or whatever. I never really bought it myself. If you blink you’ll miss her, but we have some friends who insist their eyes aren’t lying.”

           “I stand by my ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ stance,” Joe pulled out an accounting book that he liked to examine during the lulls in guest traffic. “Now go help your wife pick out some good earrings. I think sapphires are in order for her today.”

           Linda guffawed as she and her nonplussed husband left the hotel. Joe stepped away from the front desk for a moment and wandered into the dining room. He inhaled deeply, taking in the warm ambiance of the antique yet pristine wooden lodge. He almost didn’t notice when Nancy Miles came into the room.

           “Bonjour Joe,” the seasoned mountaineer greeted him as she gazed over the selection of tea bags. “Another day in paradise, huh?”

           “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Joe stated as he watched her select an Earl Gray and head over to the hot water vat with a mug.

           “Nor I. The snow blanket is sparkling white and inches deep, the moisture is low, the temperature is just below freezing, and the sky is overcast and gray. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

           “We need some hot cocoa,” Joe walked over to the bags of cocoa to grab a packet of mint chocolate. “Well, I do anyway. What’s on the agenda today, Nance?”

           “I was going to see if I could check out some of those icy caves down at the base, but I’m looking at the weather and they’re saying there’s a slight chance of avalanches. Might not be the best thing to do today.”

           “Avalanches? I didn’t hear of any such warning on the drive this morning.”

           “Well, they didn’t come right out and say it; it drives away visitors, and winter tourism is the town’s bread and butter. But if it’s right around the melting point, I don’t think I have to tell you what that means.”

           Joe shook his head slightly. “So what’s the alternative?”

           “Word on the slopes is that that woman is back on them, skiing down the mountain like her life depends on it, which it doesn’t because she already lost it years ago. Thought I’d hit the skis myself and see if I can spot her.”

           “Nancy you’re an intelligent woman, are you really falling for a ghost story?”

           “It’s not a story if it’s the truth – and we can’t rule it out that she’s not there.”

           “Aye aye aye. I love the people here, but sometimes I can’t figure them out.”

           Nancy slowly sipped on her tea. “Lots of things we don’t understand. This mountain has a lot of history to it – I’ve studied it for quite some time.”

           “So have I. I’ve worked here for thirty-five years. But this is kid’s stuff. There’s much better ways to spend your time when you’re on this beautiful mountain.”

           “It’s just for the morning. If the ice doesn’t fall after noon I’m checking out those caves,” Nancy began to head out the lobby door. She didn’t finish her tea, but she didn’t feel a need to. “I’ll send you some pictures,” she called to Joe as she walked out the door.

           The rest of the morning was very uneventful at the Inn, as Joe periodically greeted departing guests in between fulminating over a crossword puzzle. When that was solved he turned to the jumble, which he was not as skilled at but took a stab at it anyway as he had no other way to pass the time.

He noticed a peculiar theme with the jumbles that day – the entries were RIITSP, AENRPEPGIRA, OYRUPTAGR, SDISETRS, and IROTVSI. Or, as he solved them one by one: SPIRIT, REAPPEARING, PURGATORY, DISTRESS, and VISITOR. He squinted at the paper after completing the puzzles. There was no indication of any common theme with the jumbles, but they still seemed uncanny. After furrowing over it for a minute, Joe looked up, blinked his eyes, and put the paper away, leaving his desk to go get another cup of coffee.

While he was away from his desk he missed the ostentatious entrance of one Boris Kemp, who stomped into the lodge with heavy wet boots and an armful of expensive skiing equipment. Snow that was caked onto his winter coat quickly fell onto the floor and soon the large woven orange and red welcome mat was soaked.

“Woooo!!!” Boris shuddered as he slammed shut the door and stomped his boots to dislodge the snow. “Can’t take the tumbles like I used to!”

“Boris! How are the slopes today? Can I get you a warm cup of joe?”

“Warm cup of anything would be nice!” The large and bearded ski aficionado knelt down to take off his boots, relieving in the joy of releasing his feet from the soaked footwear. “The slope was fine – got me some good velocity going down the hill. But then close to the bottom I got a little surprise and woof! I go down on my back and see nothing but gray sky!”

“How did you fall down?” Joe went to fill a mug with regular coffee and add cream and sugar to it.

“Well, I did a little slalom past the thickets down course, near where the frozen gully crisscrosses. As I passed the last spruce I diverted to my left to get around these slower kids who were coming down, and then, I saw a large sparkle. At first I thought it was just the light coming off of the snow, but then it looked, I dunno, more ephemeral. Like something was there, but it wasn’t. And then, I swear to God Almighty, it took the shape of a female form. Woman with long hair flapping and everything.”

“Get outta here!” Joe handed him his coffee.

“I’m serious, man. I was so thrown off that I didn’t see the mound in front of me; I went over it wrong and wound up on my back.”

“Are you saying you saw a ghost woman?”

“I don’t know if it was or not, but I can definitely tell you that what I saw wasn’t normal.” Boris took a big swig of coffee, not caring that it was still piping hot.

“Maybe it was a mirage or something? You know, your mind plays tricks on you sometimes.”

“That’s what I would usually think, but I’ve been hearing lots of tales about this woman. They say something about the Ghost Skier – supposedly she’s the spirit of a woman who died skiing on this mountain many years ago, and how she still skis here because she’s determined to finish the course that killed her.”

Joe stood silently, shaking his head. “It just seems so crazy to me. Like, why would there be a ghost skiing down the mountain, spending her afterlife hanging around here? Not that this place is bad, I love it here, but when you’re dead, why would you want to haunt a mountain slope when you could be cruising around the heavens?”

Boris had already finished his coffee, and still felt very cold. “Well if I had a picture maybe I would be able to prove it. Maybe even sell it for a song. Oh well, gonna go jump in a hot bath. Talk to you later Joe.”

The inn’s proprietor watched the freezing skier trundle upstairs, then turned his attention to the watery mess left by the doorway. After mopping up the floor, he decided that it wasn’t worth switching out the mat as it would just get wet again, and opted to let it be. He returned to his post in the lobby, hoping that by some luck there would be another item buried in the newspaper to keep himself busy. It was the lull of the mid-afternoon when he was unlikely to have any guests come in or out for a while.

Suddenly the door swung wide open, with a loud creak of the hinges that it caused Joe to look up at it. At first he saw no one standing in the doorway. This concerned him, as it meant the door wasn’t latched shut and was letting precious heated air out of the building. But then he started to see some wavy movement in the doorway. It looked like a mere gust of wind, but looking closely, Joe could see that it was something more.

The waves looked sparkly and shiny, and they took on a cloudier texture as they shifted into the building. Joe’s brain refused to believe what his eyes were telling him, but his eyes were the more persuasive of his organs, and soon he could make out a translucent figure of a woman standing in the lobby holding skiing equipment.

As he stood there frozen, the figure turned its face toward him. “Afternoon, stranger. Are you the proprietor of this lodge?” The voice was of an indistinct female adult, no different from what Joe heard from any other woman.

He nodded hesitantly. “Uh, yes, that would be me.”

“Splendid. This is a very upstanding place you keep up.”

Joe looked around, still shaking a bit. “Thank you. I do my best.”

The apparition stood there, not moving, but still looking at him. The facial features were very feminine and youthful-looking. Her face was neither smiling nor frowning; its expression was as neutral as heavenly possible. Long hair flowed from the back of her head but hung still in the static air of the lobby.

Joe cleared his throat. “Can I – can I help you with anything?”

“Oh no. No, I don’t need anything from you. I just never saw this place before. Been here many times, on this mountain, but I don’t think I ever checked in here. I used to stay at the lodge up Cedar Avenue: Cole’s Cabin.” She paused, lowering her head. “Of course, I don’t stay anywhere now.”

“Do you – are you, a skier?”

She smiled faintly, her lips quickly turning downward as she spoke. “Pretty much all I do is ski. What else is there to do?”

Joe quickly fumbled into his pocket and whipped out his phone. “I’m very sorry miss, but could I trouble you for a picture? I’ve just never seen a woman like you before, ever.”

“I’m standing right here. Make your click.”

Joe aimed the phone camera carefully at the spirit in front of him, focused, and took a snapshot, then another to be safe. He looked at the photos and sure enough, she was present in both of them, clear in all her ephemeral glory.

“Wow. Thank you very much, miss. Can you tell me your name?”

“I don’t go by any name now. But you can call me whatever you like.”

The apparition then turned around and headed back to the door, then opened it with her ghostly hand. She turned back toward Joe with a sincere but slightly tortured expression.

“I have some unfinished business to attend to. So long.”

 Within a moment she was gone completely, the door closing quietly behind her. Joe glanced at the floor and noticed no snow tracks, moisture or any footprints whatsoever.

He looked at his phone again, staring at it as if in a trance. Then, in a spark of sudden exuberance, he thumbed his way to his list of contacts and dialed the number of Murray Adams.

“Murray? It’s Joe. I’m gonna be rich soon! Yes, yes I am! I’ll tell you about it later. Yeah, you have to see it to believe it. Things are gonna be very different here from now on. People are gonna be coming from all over the country to visit this mountain! Mark my words, pal, it’s happening!”