White Cabin

Richard Johnson was a man who always loved to go up to his cabin for a couple of days. Weeks before his trip he would imagine how wonderful it will be to drive through the dark forest with his car filled with all sorts of expensive food and wine.

With joy he would write his grocery list beforehand and visit his favorite store selling fine Italian delicacies. Also he mustn't forget his woolen blanket. The one his mother made for him. He had always invited his dear mother to come with him to visit his cabin but as far as he remembers she'd never come. That blanket was his way to have his mother close to him.

As soon as he drove through the snowy woods he felt calm and peaceful. Far away from his busy days as a professor. He parked the car next to the cabin. First thing he would do when he arrived was to stand in front of it with a smile on his face. ‘What a fine house this was’ he thought and enjoyed just looking at it before he went back to the car to get the food and his blanket.

Inside there was little to no furniture, a rocking chair, a table, a stove and a small kitchen. He was a modest man who didn't need much but he could never say no to books. Behind his chair there was a book shelve across the whole wall with a huge amount of books on it. Before he stored the food into the fridge, he started a fire in the stove. Then opened a bottle of wine and poured some into an unusually small glass.

He wrapped himself up in his blanket, sat onto his rocking chair with the wine and looked out of the window. It was white outside and it had begun to snow again. Why wouldn't his mother come to this little paradise?

It was difficult for him to keep his eyes open, slowly dozing off still rocking with the chair.

Screams. Mad laughter. He opened his eyes. The stove was barely on fire any more so he stood up to put some more wood in it. Ignoring the tingling sensation in his hands. As he turned around he heard screams again.

'So tired. I better go to sleep.' he thought. He grabbed his woolen blanket and walked to the bedroom. After undressing himself he laid down and thought of his mother once again. She'd love it here, so nice and quiet.

Knock, knock, knock. Richard looked at his clock. Who knocks at my door in the middle of the night?

Knock, knock. He got out of his bed, put on a sweater and went to the entrance door to open it. 'Mum? What are you doing here?' he wondered.

'I'm not your mother.' the woman replied. 'Of course you are. Come on in, you must be freezing.' he said. She reluctantly walked into the cabin with a puzzled look on her face. 'I am so happy you finally came to visit. Why didn't you call? And why would you come in the middle of the night? I could've taken you with me in my car.' he said. 'What car?' she asked. 'My car, next to the cabin. Didn't you see it?' he asked.

'There is no car.' she replied. 'Mum, I don't think it is the best time to be joking around’ he said.

'My name is Sonya. I am not your mother but I came here to talk to you about her' she stated. 'I'm not in the mood to talk to you about yourself, Mum. I'm going back to sleep now. You can use the guest bedroom. Help yourself to some sheets and blankets from the cupboard and have a good night.' he said and went back to bed.

Richard woke up the next morning, in excitement to see his mother finally had come to the cabin, he quickly got out of his bedroom and searched through the whole house. He slowed down in front of the guest room and knocked at the door. No answer. He opened it.

'Mum?' he said. But the room was empty, the bed not slept in. He was alone. 'What a weird dream.' he thought and went back to put some more wood into the stove.

After he ate a fine Italian breakfast he did the dishes right away even though the fire scars that covered his hands always started to burn in the hot water. Before he sat down in his rocking chair, his woolen blanket with him, he grabbed 'A Burning House' from the wall with all his books. 'Why am I so tired all the time lately?' Richard thought after reading a few pages. He dosed off. It sure was comfortable in his little cabin which was covered in white snow by now.

Knock. Knock.

He woke with a start. Knock, knock, knock. And got off his chair to open the door. 'Are you my mother? Or the woman that denies to be her?' he asked.

'What are you talking about, Richie? Of course I am your mother. You always wanted me to come to your cabin and now you're letting me stand out here in the cold.' she said.

'I'm sorry, Mum. I just had a very weird dream last night. Come on in.' he replied.

'I had no idea how cozy it was. You never told me. If I had known I would've come here earlier!' she shouted. 'I tried to describe it. But there are just not the right words to do that.' he stated. 'Well, now I know. How are you feeling?' she asked. 'I feel tired and a bit dizzy. Maybe I should lay down for a bit.' he replied.

'Go ahead and do that. I'll be here when you wake up.' she said. Richard went to his bedroom, laid down and instantly fell asleep. Screams. Slamming doors. He woke up. 'Mum?'. No answer. Again he searched through all of the rooms but yet again he was alone in his cabin. There was no one else with him. 'What is going on?' he mumbled to himself and decided to call his mother. But a tinny voice said 'Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service'.

'What? What is going on here?' he shouted at his cellphone and was surprised by the screen telling him there was no network coverage.

A very confused Richard Johnson sat down on his rocking chair and started to swing. He looked out of the window where all he could see was white.

~

'Dr Bennett? Do you have a minute?' a woman asked an elderly man in his sixties. 'Of course, Sonya. What is it?' he replied. 'I just wanted to thank you for your advice regarding Richard Johnson. I believe I've made some progress today impersonating his mother. Maybe I'll be able to get through to him soon.' she said.

'That's good news' he said and after a glance at Richard Johnson swinging his upper body back and forth while he sat on the ground, Dr Bennett added 'it is such a horrible case though. Certainly not easy to accept his mother died in a fire in his beloved cabin and that he couldn't save her even though he ran into the burning house.'