CHAPTER 7

  ANSWERING FOR THE CABIN

  “You shouldn’t be in here,” the silhouetted figure said stepping through the door. There was no time for our eyes to adjust to the beam of sunlight flooding inside the cabin from the doorway. The figure stepped toward the center of the room. As he got closer, the lantern on the table illuminated his angry face. We both realized it was Grandpa Jack who had found us.

  I was quick, “We’re sorry but it was Darby’s idea!”

  Darby turned toward me. She couldn't believe I was putting this on her. Grandpa Jack approached me first and bent down to pick up the book I had been reading from the floor. He looked at the cover of the book I had. It was his hand-written history of the giants. That one was the actual start of it all.

  Darby reached down and picked up the journal she had dropped. She also picked up the letter she had been reading and slid it back into the front of the journal. Grandpa Jack's eyes alone told us he was beyond upset. I was certain it was the end of us.

  This was his inner sanctuary and we had let ourselves in. No matter the reason we had, we were now privy to a world that was his own. One he didn't want anyone to know. It had been locked away with purpose.

  This all ran through my head standing there with him. I wondered what action he would take against us. This was a man with a gruff exterior who we barely knew. This was also the man that within a couple of days, we managed to violate his privacy. I started to feel bad about it all.

  Dad would be so disappointed in our actions here.

  Grandpa Jack stood back up and replaced the book on the shelf without having to look where it needed to go. He knew exactly where it was taken from.

  Rascal came pouncing in barking. Grandpa’s hand met Rascal’s head. Rascal stood there behind Grandpa Jack and growled at us. Like he knew we had done wrong.

  Were we the enemy? Rascal’s bark was intense and frightening. I imagined his growl was that of Ol' Yeller from the end of the book. Rabid, angry, and not himself. The world he had also destroyed.

  Grandpa rubbed Rascal on the head and the dog quit. We heard the shuffling of feet on the porch floorboards. Through the doorway, Fitch appeared. We looked to him for some reassurance or some help. He didn't offer any.

  Darby confessed, “Grandpa, we’re sorry. We know Fitch told us not to come in here. It was wrong, but we were curious.”

  Grandpa Jack did not maintain any eye contact with us. His face showed green from the lantern. It was difficult for us to appreciate just how much trouble we were in by the look we could barely see on his face.

  Grandpa Jack looked around the room to see if anything else was out of place. He did not see anything out of the ordinary. His and Fitch’s minds had to be spinning with thoughts of how the two of us got into the cabin in the first place. In less than two days, we had made our way to the only place on the farm that was off-limits. It was the only place that Jack had wanted to keep to himself.

  Later I would find out that when Mimi had told him about us coming to stay with them for the summer, he wasn't sure about doing it. He enjoyed his solitude. Mimi persisted and Jack eventually gave in as he often did with her. Once he agreed, he insisted Finch check the lock on the cabin door to ensure it was working. Jack wanted to be sure his private papers and all his work would be well protected. It was work that was not easily explained to people. Jack’s respected reputation as a well-known anthropologist had come into question and his professional teaching career ended abruptly because of what he believed.

  Locking up the cabin so that no one, including his grandchildren, would get in was mandatory. He did not want anyone to find things that he was not prepared to explain. It was the only condition for us coming and now that had been breached.

  “You two run up to the house,” Fitch said. “I’m sure your grandma has a snack or lunch or something for you,”

  We wasted no time in getting out of there. We quickly walked past Grandpa Jack and out the door. But it was eating me alive. I stood at the door and turned around to address my grandpa.

  “We are sorry. Please don’t send us back yet. We promise we will be better. I really like it here. I promise we will be better.”

  I had to do something. This has been a great experience so far and I didn't want to ruin it.

  “Well,” Grandpa Jack, “your aunt and your other grandparents won’t be home for a while yet. You have nowhere to go home to.” His voice cracked when he addressed me. It was the first time I could remember Grandpa Jack talking directly to me.

  Fitch knew that the crack in Jack’s voice was uncontrollable. Had he been able to control it, he would have. I found out later that the way I spoke, my voice specifically, had reminded Grandpa Jack of his son, my dad. It was a piece of the past he seemed to be getting back when it had seemed lost forever.

  When I left the room, Rascal was quick to come after me.

  I'd learn the conversation in the cabin that day had been one in the making for months if not years.

  “It seems curiosity runs deep in this family, wouldn’t you say?” Fitch questioned Jack.

  Jack turned and stared out the door, his eyes fixed on the fields stretching to the eastern boundary of the farm. He had tried to protect himself by locking away his life’s work, his memories, and his feelings. But now, fear gripped him. Fear of what he would have to say and share. Fear of how it would make him look. He knew people thought he was crazy—many had throughout his long life. The farm had been his retreat, his fortress against that judgment. He didn’t think he had any fight left in him. But now, with his sanctuary breached, he feared he would have no choice but to explain himself. And he was not ready for it.

  Jack looked around the cabin one more time to make sure nothing else was out of place. Organization was his way of control. Things were shifting out of control, and he wanted to make sure there would be no more surprises. Nothing else had been touched.

  He turned out the lantern and picked the keys up off the table. He headed for the door with keys in hand. Fitch followed. With everyone out of the cabin, Jack shut and locked the door.

  Fitch was unsure why he was even locking it; the lock had not stopped what had already happened. Jack then shoved the keys back in his pocket and walked away. The two men said not another word to each other. Fitch watched the man he had grown very close to and knew full well that this was all happening with some purpose. Fitch could only stand by and watch. He knew this was about to come to a head.

  Later at lunch, we sat at the table. Grandma Mimi was rushing around the kitchen preparing food. She had prepared some egg salad sandwiches and had opened a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. She also had some homemade pickles from last season on the table. Darby and I could not tell if she knew what happened in the cabin hours ago. She acted normal and said nothing. She had the radio on and hummed along without a care.

  Darby and I sat there eating the sandwiches wondering when the punishment would come. Some time had passed since the cabin incident, yet Darby and I stayed out of sight. Playing in our room avoiding what our curiosity got us.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  As the two men entered for lunch, Darby and I kept our heads down and focused on our plates as the two men approached the table.

  Grandpa Jack sat next to Darby and Fitch sat in his usual spot across the table.

  “Ma’am, as always thank you for this great meal,” Fitch said. Looking at us, he said, “Hope you know, your grandma’s egg salad sandwiches are legendary.” He then turned to Jack, “Do you remember that time, we were up near the Canadian border, and we packed those sandwiches we had gotten from that store?”

  Jack looked at Fitch with a puzzled look on his face.

  Fitch continued, “You remember? We both craved Mimi’s egg salad sandwiches and we came across that store with the deli.” Fitch laughed and continued, “We both were so hungry. We knew we would be out late that night in the woods. So, we loaded our backpacks with food.”

  Fitch turned toward us, “And, this little store, I think it was called Ellie’s Too or something like that, had these pre-packaged prepared sandwiches. We both grabbed two sandwiches each – all egg salad and put them in our backpacks.”

  While Fitch spoke, he bit into his sandwich and chewed. He continued to talk with a wad of egg salad in his mouth, “That night, we pulled out the sandwiches to eat ‘em. We had been saving them up like a treat.” Fitch paused to take a bite of his sandwich and continued to talk with food in his mouth. Grandpa Jack grabbed chips for his plate.

  “And, Jack, here, took one bite and spit it out just as quickly. Those things were completely uneatable. They were disgusting. We even tried to feed them to those raccoons, but they wouldn’t touch them.”

  Fitch laughed and with the food in his mouth began to choke. He grabbed a glass to fill with lemonade to wash it all down.

  Darby and I focused, emotionlessly, on Fitch’s story and laughed. Mimi smiled as she stood over the sink eating her sandwich. She had heard this story several times over the years. Grandpa Jack didn’t say a word or offer a smile.

  Without thought, I blurted out, “What were you and Grandpa doing in the woods, anyway?” Grandpa Jack and Darby froze in mid-bite. Fitch smiled and said, “Jack, you want to answer that, or should I?”

  Grandpa Jack didn’t say a word. He looked over at Fitch and continued to chew his food. Mimi had turned around in somewhat surprise.

  “Jack it's not like they don’t already have an idea. Why else would the boy have asked? He’s curious,” Fitch said. I froze. Why would I have asked that? I knew I shouldn’t have.

  “They are both curious,” Fitch said. “And you have the answers they are looking for.” Fitch persisted in bringing this subject to a head.

  Darby looks over at me upset. I had again pushed the situation too far.

  Grandma Mimi came to me put her hands on my shoulders and gave a squeeze. Grandpa Jack didn’t say a word. He grabbed his sandwich, got up from the table, and went for the front door.

  The slam of the screen door was loud. The loudness of that front screen door remains a constant memory from my days on the farm.

  As Grandpa Jack left, Grandma Mimi looked over a Fitch. I sensed she knew perfectly well that Fitch was pushing Jack.

  “What?” Fitch said to Mimi. With that, Grandma Mimi changed the subject. “I need to run into town and get some potatoes for a roast. Why don't you kids come with me? We'll stop and get some ice cream.”

  She said the magic word – ice cream. We were in.

  Could it all be true? I thought of nothing else on the drive to town. We passed the tall trees of the forest and the homesteads in between. Certainly, the lunch conversation alluded to the fact that it was all true. Darby wasn't allowing herself to believe a single word. She rationalized this was all a fantasy of a crazy old man.

  On the way to the store, Grandma had the car window down and the cool summer breeze felt good in the back seat. As I looked off at the farms going by, I thought about the cabin some more. Certainly, Grandpa Jack's resistance to sharing and desire to hide his cabin journals and extensive library was proof enough for me. I knew there was something there to be discovered. A truth that the adults refused to share only made it even more true. At the heart of every story told was the truth and eventually that had to come out.

  My imagination ran wild. What exciting stories Grandpa must have. I conjured up visions of giants and pirates and mermaids and grisly beasts of my own imagination. In all my excitement, I knew Darby was both skeptical and curious. She respected position and knew that Grandpa Jack was once an honorable and wise anthropologist. How could she ignore that part of the man? At the same time, she knew insanity could develop over time due to a lack of balanced information and living. The more you fell down a hole of denial about the truth, the more likely you were to believe in something that was no longer true.

  What Grandma Mimi must have thought as our minds spun. She didn't say a word to us on that drive. She kept the beat to the songs on the radio and occasionally reached over to the seat next to her and patted Duchess. Her constant companion. It was like the dog was her security blanket.

  At dinner that night, the table was filled with roast beef, mashed potatoes, sautéed squash, homemade biscuits, and jellies. It was the typical homemade farm meal that I was growing to love.

  Today, I miss those meals like nothing else. There was nothing like the way Grandma Mimi cooked. She cooked from scratch. No microwave dinners. No biscuits in a can. No jelly from the store. All her own creation.

  That night, after a day of near silence, we barely touched our plates. We sat there moving the food from side to side. The lack of conversation got to us. I didn’t know what to say so nothing was said. The continued quietness of our grandfather weighed heavily on our minds.

  He was like a time bomb we waited to go off. We waited quietly, still. He had yet to show us his true explosive self. The one we had grown to imagine. His silence was cutting. His scowling face was intimidating. His limited deep voice riddled with the harshness we were expecting.

  “What is with the two of you?” Grandma Mimi finally asked. She knew more than she was letting on.

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  Grandpa Jack spoke up, sternly, “Your Grandmother asked the two of you a question!” Even at a normal volume, his deep voice was intimidating.

  Darby thought for only a second before speaking up first. “I guess we don’t know what to do or say. We don’t want to do or say the wrong thing. We are sorry. But we were also curious as to what you're hiding. Those journals in the cabin, sure, we shouldn’t have but now we have seen them. We're more curious now or for me anyway, even more suspicious of what they are. Are they true?”

  Mimi looked over at Jack but didn’t say a word. She let it all play out without getting involved. She knew we'd been searching for the keys that morning. She watched as Darby dried the dishes and put them away. She watched Darby open an extra drawer or two while putting things away. She also knew I had been searching for the keys in her room. She knew I had knocked the key holder down and didn’t say a word. She knew it had to happen.

  Jack, stumbled over his words answering Darby back, “It seems this farm doesn’t have enough for a pair of twins to do. They spent the morning in the cabin reading my papers when they should have been doing some chores or chasing frogs or something of that nature.” He then looked at Mimi with a “can you believe the two of them” expression.

  “I am sure they found the journals more interesting than anything else we have on this farm and wasn’t it them that you said you were writing them for? Future generations I mean,” Grandma answers.

  “No! It was research for the university,” he answered with an uneven anger. “You know that, as well as I do.”

  Mimi continued, “I'm sure these kids are interested in all that research you did all those years ago”

  She knew his research was his story more than anything else in his life and she loved him for it. She loved him for the passion in him that it stirred. A passion she saw in his eyes that day she met him back when they were both attending graduate school. To this day, the desire he had for his dreams and this quest for knowledge continued and she knew it would not end until the day he died.

  She also knew that since my father, their son died, Jack’s thirst had ended. The spark he had in his eyes had dimmed. She hoped this opportunity to have us up there would bring that spark back. That night at dinner, she saw Jack fighting it. But it was much too late for him, like a crumbling dam with water about to burst through, his guard was cracking and all the emotions he held in were about to come pouring out. He was too late to stop where all this was going.

  “Kids, why don’t you give Grandma and Grandpa some time alone to talk,” Grandma said.

  “Sure,” I said as Darby, and I slid off our chairs. We headed for the front door to the porch. We realized Grandma Mimi was an ally. She was going to help us.

  We'd find out later how the conversation that night would go. After we went outside, Grandpa got up and walked over to the kitchen sink to rinse off his plate.

  “And just where do you think you are going?” Grandma asked.

  “I might as well go out to the cabin and get my journals,” he told her. “I know full well there is no arguing with you on this one. We’ve been together far too long for me to try and put up a fight that I know I won’t win. But it all stops at the journals on the giants - nothing more,” Grandpa told her. She thought it was cute the way he tried to lay down the law.

  She joined him at the sink. “I think if you start with the journals on the giants that will be just perfect. I think they’re going to love you for it. And it’s a history lesson. How could you argue with that?”

  She put her loving arms around him and gave him one of her best hugs. She was sure that all his years of hard work were finally going to pay off the dividends of that work. It would be the first time anyone outside the hallowed halls of the university would enter the world the two of them had uncovered. She also knew it was going to be hard on him to do it. He had been through some very tough times as it related to his work and his writings. It was hard for him to believe so clearly in something that other people found hard to understand. Mimi was hopeful that so much of what they had sacrificed would have some positive outcome. She thought that maybe, just maybe, someone, maybe even their own grandchildren, would know his mysteries to be fact and believe them as much as Grandpa Jack did.