The Murky Depths

Chapter 1 The red Sentra was loaded down, or at least more packed than it had been since he’d purchased it brand new three years ago. On the backseat sat a cooler and a large suitcase. The passenger seat bore the weight of his duffle bag, and a cup of coffee in a stainless-steel travel mug was nestled in the cup holder. Keston Alexander was ready to hit the road. Getting situated behind the steering wheel meant plugging in his phone and finding the playlist he put together just last night. Road music. Or as he liked to think of them, the best karaoke tunes to belt out while alone, because let’s face it, he’d never win a singing contest. Probably never even make it pass the judges. And that was fine with Keston. As soon as Journey began to spill from the speakers, Keston put the car in reverse and left his numbered parking spot in the underground garage in the dust. He didn’t even bother to look back at the white and gray brick complex, having called it home for what, ten years now? Has it really been that long? With the promotion he received three months ago he might be making enough to consider new digs. Or he could stay in the place where he knew his neighbors to either side, played the occasional video game tournament with the kid across the hall when her mom worked late, and watched the yearly fireworks display from his balcony, which turned out to be primo seating. Keston stopped at a red light. “Leave it all behind,” he mumbled, relaxing into the seat. A glance at the dashboard clock, twenty minutes after the top of the hour. Usually he’d be settled at his desk by now, probably waiting on a conference call or rifling through paperwork, being bugged by others on the floor. Being a manager was great, he thrived on leading others and keeping things neat and orderly. But this vacation he needed more than anything. “Why don’t you take a trip up to the lake?” His boss’s suggestion, and Keston found himself at a loss to argue. He’d put in one late night after another and closed on a big deal. A bit of time away sounded wonderful. Especially since he was starting to experience burn out. And quite possibly even second guessing his job. The corporate rat race, was it where he wanted to spend another decade? If he checked his reflection, even briefly, in the rearview mirror, he’d easily pinpoint the gray hairs that started popping up. Grays at thirty-three. Molly, the kid who always beat him at Fortnite, liked the choice phrase ‘old man’ when trash talking him, and though it was all in good fun, last time she uttered those words Keston took ‘em to heart. He was getting old. And what did he have to show for it? An oldish car and an apartment with a plant he’d somehow managed to not kill yet? He couldn’t even recall his last date, though Molly tried once to unsuccessfully set him up with her mom only to realize he preferred the company of men, and that, for some reason, sent her into a fit of giggles. Now every time she was kicking his butt, she brought up this guy or that one, her history teacher or the dude she saw in the checkout line at the local grocer. “Have you thought about asking out the mailman?” She asked one day, rather enthusiastic about the idea until he pointed out the man wore a gold wedding band. “Oh. Hm. Well, we’ll find you someone. The perfect man is out there, I know it.” The perfect man, what a silly, childish notion. And yet, in the darkest hours of the night when he found it hard to sleep, spending far too much time staring up at the blank ceiling like it might magically produce answers to all of life’s most baffling questions, he ached for something more. Especially as of late, yet what exactly more was, he didn’t have a clue. Another reason to be going on this mini vacation. There were things he needed to figure out, soul searching to be done, so to speak. The song switched over to a 90’s pop tune. Keston twisted the volume knob, then started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he sang along. Eventually the city began to fall away, buildings giving way to farm fields and little patches of woodland. Keston sipped at his coffee, knowing it would easily be another four or five hours before he reached his destination. * * * * Thanks to the ever-persistent growl of his stomach he’d been forced to stop for lunch, opting to forgo fast food and treat himself to an actual meal, service and all. It put him behind schedule a little, not that anyone was awaiting his arrival, so what did it matter in the long run? The sun had passed its high point in the sky and sank ever lower to the horizon as the minutes ticked by. When Keston finally found the turn off for the cabin the shadows had grown long, the sun darting between the trees. The property belonged to his parents, had since long before he was born, and if he chose to believe his grandpa, it was the place their little family settled some decades ago. Of course, if a dirt floor, single room cabin ever sat on the parcel of land it was long gone, swallowed up by renovations and additions and pushed into history by modern conveniences. Not that he was going to complain. With his parents off on a cruise to the great white wonder of Alaska and his sister mere weeks away from popping out the first grandchild, Keston knew he’d have the place all to himself. Just him and the critters of the surrounding forest. He followed the winding road, having slowed considerably for fear of suicidal deer, and even turned down the country tune currently playing. A hit of the power window button and soon he was listening to the whisper of rustling fall leaves and a choir of birdsong. Keston relaxed. “I needed this,” he said to the car. “Some time away, get my head cleared, get things figured out. Maybe decide if my life requires change.” He passed a cabin that belonged to someone else. “Am I having an early midlife crisis, is that possible?” Off the other side of the road was a place Keston knew well, and he slowed as he came upon it. The rundown cabin had seen better days and it marveled him how it remained standing all these years. Growing up, he remembered how his parents used to remind him and his sister, both quite sternly, to stay away from the place. It wasn’t safe. They’d get hurt. “What if you fall through a weak spot in the floor and nobody knows you’re there? You could die.” Mom, a sweet woman who enjoyed baking cookies, but also managed to always think of the worst-case scenario, and often chose to share it. Why hasn’t someone bough that place and fixed it up? Unless rules and regulations had changed, which he highly doubted, no new developments were allowed in the Kona Forest, and it was prime camping territory. Maybe he’d look into the property while he was here, see about purchasing it and setting things right. He could turn it into an investment property. It was somewhere to start, something to think about. Maybe it would lead to a new career opportunity. Who knows. A little further down the road Keston turned into the gravel driveway to their place. The company his parents paid to maintain the grounds in their absence kept the grass and the bushes trimmed, cut back any tree limbs that might scrape along the roof, and as always requested by his mom, left the carpeting of fall leaves in place. “They serve a purpose.” He killed the engine, listening to it tick as it cooled. “This is gonna be good,” he said. Keston gathered up his duffle bag, found the cabin key in his pocket, and headed for the front door.