Louis Hannibal Nez
Amid the vast countryside, a family SUV follows a deserted road winding between tall green hills. On either side, dense, almost untouched vegetation blankets the slopes; farther ahead, still higher hills stand outlined in the daylight. Inside the vehicle, the three travelers take in the landscape in a silence tinged with wonder.
Joseph is driving. He is middle-aged, with the first strands of gray appearing in his hair. Beside him sits Marie, a few years younger. In the back is Sunny, their fifteen-year-old daughter. Joseph and Marie exchange remarks, smiles, and quietly knowing glances, as though they have at last reclaimed time that for so long had been only partly theirs.
Sunny, meanwhile, is absorbed in her phone.
“They’ve finally let the most productive man of the year go,” Marie teases with a smile. “Now you can take a little time off and enjoy being with us.”
Joseph laughs, carried along by Marie’s laughter.
“Is that a complaint?”
“Just an observation.”
Joseph reaches over with his right hand and begins tickling Marie’s stomach. She bursts out laughing and tries to wriggle away.
“Stop, stop, please. I can’t take any more.”
Satisfied, Joseph withdraws his hand. They go on laughing for a few seconds as the SUV follows the road and the hills draw slowly nearer.
After a bend, Marie turns toward the back seat. Her smile fades at the sight of Sunny sitting motionless, intent on her phone and oblivious to their conversation.
“Sunny, sweetheart, why don’t you put that down for a minute and talk to us?”
The girl does not even look up. Her thumbs keep moving rapidly over the keyboard.
“Sunny.”
This time Marie says her name more firmly.
Sunny raises her eyes, looking both irritated and surprised, as though the interruption were an unwarranted intrusion.
“Leave her be, love,” Joseph says. “We’re almost there.”
Sunny frowns and returns to her phone. Marie says nothing and turns back toward the windshield.
The SUV leaves the road and makes its way slowly along a dirt track into the hills. Joseph surveys the landscape with a satisfied smile. Beside him, Marie gazes at the woodland all around them: intensely green slopes thick with vegetation, veiled in a light mist.
For almost twenty minutes they travel slowly along a winding track full of potholes, cracks, and uneven patches that jolt the vehicle. At last they round a bend at the foot of a hill and take a slope that leads roughly halfway up.
The SUV travels a few yards farther and stops in front of a large two-story wooden cabin with a broad deck and tall windows covering almost the whole of some walls.
Marie is the first to get out. She stands gazing at the cabin, smiling broadly, unable to conceal her delight.
She bites her lower lip and looks at Joseph, only to find him watching her from the other side of the vehicle. They both smile.
Sunny gets out next. She gives the cabin only a few seconds of her attention before returning to her phone. Without a word, she walks toward the front door.
Marie watches her go. Some of her delight fades.
The couple unload the suitcases and bags from the SUV. Then they enter the cabin that will be their home for the next few days.
As evening falls, the last daylight still lingers on the wooden deck. Marie and Joseph step outside together and walk to the railing. He puts his arms around her from behind, and they look out at the landscape in silence.
“Tell me, was a whole year of hard work worth it?” Joseph asks. “The sleepless nights, the days when we barely saw each other… Was it worth it?”
Marie rests her hands on her husband’s arms.
“Of course it was. All that work mattered for your promotion. I can’t believe you’ve brought us here. It’s incredible.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
They stay in each other’s arms for a few minutes, enjoying the view and the stillness. Then Marie breaks the silence.
“Where’s Sunny?”
“She’s shut herself in the bedroom she’s chosen.”
“I’ll talk to her. I don’t like this attitude of hers.”
Marie is about to go inside, but a look from Joseph stops her.
“Don’t push her. Let her enjoy herself in her own way. She needs this trip too.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be here? You spoil her.”
Joseph looks at his wife but chooses not to answer. Marie turns back to the view.
Directly below the cabin, at the foot of the hill, runs a wide but fairly shallow stream. An arched stone bridge spans it. Its surfaces are covered in strange images and symbols that Marie takes to be features of an ancient structure.
Beyond the stream, where jagged rocks jut out of the current, stretches another range of hills. A second cabin stands on one of them.
Marie studies the building. From this distance she can make out its deck and some of its windows. Its resemblance to their own cabin is hard to overlook.
“I want this to be a good experience for Sunny too,” Joseph says. “I want her to find the happiness she had when she was little. You’ll see—by the time we have to go home, everything will have changed.”
Marie does not answer. She keeps watching the cabin across the stream.
“Joseph…”
“Yes?”
“That cabin is identical to this one, isn’t it?”
Joseph narrows his eyes, peering at the building on the opposite hill.
At that very moment, a woman’s scream erupts from deep inside the cabin they are watching across the stream. The echoes multiply, striking the slopes and sweeping through the valley from hill to hill. Startled, Marie and Joseph look at each other.
For a few seconds, neither of them moves.