Pepper L. Bauer  Home

The gravel snapping and popping under the tires of the Jeep as it snaked its way along the narrow forest road were the only sounds disturbing the deep quiet of the Northwoods night.

Laura turned off her radio before she turned onto the lane leading to the resort, and now just had the Rice Crispy crackles, and the panting of her American Eskimo dog sitting in the doggie seat for company.

As she neared her destination, a deer crashed through the underbrush and sprang powerfully across the road directly in front of her car.  Laura slammed her foot down on the brake pedal, mentally thanking the Lord for anti-lock brake systems.  Eight more deer followed the leader, the sleek fur covering their graceful, muscled bodies shining in her Jeep lights.

She smiled to herself in the dark, and took a deep breath of the crisp fall air coming through the open sunroof.  Her dog Naddie stood as best she could, muzzle quivering, sending the departing deer on their way with a couple sharp barks.

Laura was home; this was where she belonged.

An hour later, after checking in with Kelly, the owner, at the main house, and unloading her few belongings into the cabin, she sat cross-legged on the bed absentmindedly running her hands through her dog’s soft white fur. The last six months had been hell.

This pilgrimage to Twin Waters Resort was a healing ritual that Laura felt she had to make; this warm, familiar part of the world, brimming with countless bittersweet memories, was the balm her soul needed.  Hopefully this time alone would bring her peace.

The house of dreams, hopes, and love that Laura so carefully built with her husband came crashing down last March with one phone call, and the unemotional anonymous voice informing her that the man she’d been married to for thirty years had collapsed at work and had been taken to the hospital.

In shock, she raced into town, but by the time she reached the emergency room he was gone, and her life as she knew it, was over.

At this point she was surviving on autopilot.  She went to work, attended church, socialized with friends, and for the most part Laura fulfilled all expected obligations, but was in a fog most of the time.  Nothing seemed real. Usually she felt as if she was disembodied, standing next to herself watching a scene in a movie.

Recently, family and friends started bugging her to get on with life.  Some of them even tried to set her up with other men, but she wasn't ready for that yet, and she doubted if she ever would be.

John had been her true soul mate, and as far as Laura was concerned, every person only has one.  She thanked God that she had been lucky enough to find hers, and desperately wanted closure. Hopefully, in this special place she would feel her husband's spirit, and it would help quell the constant ache and sense of loss deep inside her being.

Naddie nuzzled her hand gently, jumped off the bed, and headed for the door, fuzzy tail wagging. "O.K.," Laura laughed as she grabbed the leash.  “I know an order when I see one.”

Woman and dog strolled through the sleeping resort, enjoying nighttime serenity and solitude.  The warm yellow light pouring out from her cabin, named Tepee, glowed like the welcoming beacon of a lighthouse, guiding her to safety.

She felt protected here, in their favorite romantic hideaway.  She felt guilty, but was so glad to get away from all the well-meaning people in her life, none of which understood why she wanted to come to the Northwoods alone.

Several friends offered to come along, and as much as she hated to hurt their feelings, Laura turned them all down.  She felt very strongly that this was something she needed to do on her own.

She and her husband had been coming to Twin Waters Resort twice a year, fall and winter, for eight years and the Northwoods for thirty years.  Their special cabin, Tepee, had always been an island of calm in their hectic lives.  As eccentric as everyone thought she was, she just wasn't ready to share her "Fortress of Solitude" with anyone else yet.

Laura turned and headed towards the lakeshore.  Big St. Germain Lake boasted 1,617 acres of sparkling water, and tonight every bit of it was calm and as smooth as glass.  The light from the stars and crescent moon generated ghostly wraiths, dancing ethereally on the mirrored surface of the lake.

Several docks with benches strategically placed at the end jutted out from the shore.  She walked to the end of the nearest one and sat down.  Naddie jumped up on the seat and curled up beside her, nose tucked under her tail for warmth.

Laura closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet smoke scented autumn air.  She and John used to love to sit out here at night, reveling in the night noises, such as the laughing of mergansers, and losing themselves in the beauty of the incredible sky show.  She started to relax for the first time in months.

Resting on the bench, eyelids squeezed shut, lost in her memories, Laura jerked suddenly out of her reverie as something touched her neck.  Heart racing, she looked around but nothing was there.  Naddie whined.  She felt it again, but this time the touch was warming, almost reassuring.  She closed her eyes as the sensation moved up her jaw to her face.  Tears trickled down her cheeks as she recognized what she was feeling, a soft, caressing hand.

With a crash, the door to the nearest cabin flew open and two fishermen sauntered out laughing and talking.  Immediately the pressure disappeared and Laura knew that whatever presence had been on the dock with her was gone, leaving an excruciating feeling of loss.  She nodded to the men as they waved, then got up slowly and wistfully made her way back to the cabin.

The next morning dawned bright and clear.   As she nibbled on a muffin and drank coffee in front of the picture window overlooking the lake, Laura could see that in the light of day, last night’s experience could be just the wishful thinking of a lonely woman.  She watched two Northern Ravens vying over a tasty morsel.  “If only John were here,” she sighed.

After breakfast, she left the dog inside, took her coffee and wandered down to the dock that protruded onto Lost Creek next to her cabin.  A flock of Mallards floating noisily in the little bay formed by the curve of the creek scolded her with mumbling quacks as they slowly moved away.  The incredible fall colors reflected in the creek gave the illusion that the birds were swimming through an artist’s palette.

Laura smiled as she remembered the time she and John rented a paddleboat and paddled up the creek, trying to get close enough to the ducks to get a good picture.  For the most part the flock eluded them, but they got a couple decent shots and had fun trying.

She spotted a unique rock on the shore and stooped to pick it up.  She loved rocks and always tried to bring one home from every trip.  Last fall, she and John hiked a primitive trail not far from the resort.  On the way up the hill Laura kicked a rock.  Two hours later, she kicked the same rock as she came down the path and it flew up in the air and hit her leg.

“This rock wants to come home with us,” she announced as she picked it up and looked it over.  John laughed, but the rock found a place in back of the Jeep and traveled back to Illinois where it sat in a place of honor on the kitchen table.  At John’s memorial service, Laura slipped the rock in his hand before they closed the coffin.

Unexpectedly, she felt the warmth of the hand on her neck again.  This time she didn’t jump but shut her eyes and leaned into the hand, savoring the sensation.  She sensed what appeared to be arms encircling her waist, and felt soft breath on her cheek.  Tears flowed freely down her face, and time lost all meaning.  She stood in silent communion with John’s spirit as the sun slid higher in the cobalt sky.

A shout from the road shattered the meditation and caused Laura to lose contact again.  Friends from the little church in town that she and John always attended had come to take her to lunch.  As she climbed the hill to great her guests, she looked back over her shoulder at Lost Creek and smiled.  “That’s O.K. John,” she whispered, “I know where to find you.”

Years flew by, and again Laura found herself guiding her vehicle up to the door of the Tepee.  For thirty-one years, through two dogs and five SUVs, she made the trek north for her rendezvous with John twice a year.  She talked to him, and shared her life and frustrations with him, on dock benches and creek banks surrounded by mind numbing fall beauty, and on frozen lakes under the Milky Way and shooting stars.

Although she never saw him, he was there, his warm presence enfolding her with love. 

Many things changed around her, but Twin Waters, though updated, basically stayed the same.  It even had the same owner, Kelly, although he was no "spring chicken" either, and was preparing to retire within the next year.

At her age, she almost didn’t make it up this time. Concerned friends and relatives tried to convince her to stay home, but she sneaked away from the house early in the morning, and aimed her vehicle in the familiar direction.  They didn't understand that she had to make this trip: it was everything to her.

Laura slid from the SUV and pulled her cane out of the back seat.  Feeling a sense of urgency, she didn't go into the cabin, but headed straight for the lake.  The uneven ground caused her to stumble, and she almost fell several times, but determined, she pressed on.  Halfway to the shore she felt the now familiar hands grasp her arm and steady her.  She smiled.  Everything was going to be all right.

She made it to the end of the dock and collapsed on the bench, breathing heavily.  John's presence seemed stronger than usual.  She could feel the warmth of him beside her, his hand holding hers tightly.

Suddenly, Laura felt him press something hard and cold into her hand.  What was it?  In her peripheral vision she thought she saw something move, turned her head, and found herself staring into familiar blue eyes.  The beautiful mouth she knew so well curved into a grin.  With unspeakable joy, she stood up, threw her arms around him, and laughed because she knew.

Early the next morning Kelly woke to the sound of someone banging hysterically on the front door of his house.  One of the resort guests had gone for an early morning walk and discovered a body on the dock.

Two hours later, after the coroner zipped up the black bag, he wiped his hands on a towel and turned to the small group of people on the beach.  "It was the damnedest thing," he said.  "She had the happiest look on her face of any body I've ever seen.  I swear she died laughing.  And something else; look what I found in her hand."  He lifted a clear bag so that those around could see that it contained a pretty little rock.  The kind you might pick up while hiking and carry home. DSS

 

Pepper L. Bauer of Mapleton, IL. is a writer and journalist who has won awards for her many activities at her church and in the community. Among other activities, she is President of the Peoria Area Anti-Hunger Coalition. This is her 18th story published in Downstate Story.

A happy marriage beyond death, rare but beautiful. To keep these good stories coming, donate here to Downstate Story.