Louis Hannibal Nez
The next day, Marie wakes before Joseph but stays in bed beside him. The image of the woman on the bridge keeps returning to her, along with the light that goes on flickering across the stream.
When Joseph finally wakes, she turns to him.
“Joseph, I saw a light across the stream in the early hours. There’s no one out there, is there?”
Joseph blinks, still half asleep.
“A light?”
“Yes. In the cabin opposite. Or somewhere beyond it. I’m not sure.”
“What were you doing looking out there at that hour?”
There is no reproach in his voice, but the question unsettles Marie. For a moment she considers telling him that she also saw a woman on the bridge. Yet the image seems so implausible that she decides to keep it to herself.
“I got up to get something to drink. I saw the light on my way back. I thought someone might have wandered onto the property and lit a fire to keep warm.”
Joseph sits up and looks at her closely.
“There’s no one on the whole property except us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely.”
Marie expects him to look as troubled as she feels, but Joseph simply smiles.
“It was probably moonlight reflecting off the water.”
Marie looks back at the window.
“Water?”
“The stream, a wet rock… Almost anything can catch the light in the dark.”
The explanation sounds reasonable. Joseph has always been able to calm her when her thoughts begin to run away with her.
“Yes,” Marie says, though without much conviction. “That was probably it.”
They go down to the dining room and make breakfast. Sunny joins them a little later but says nothing and scarcely touches her food. Joseph tries to start a conversation about their plans for the day. Marie makes an effort to join in, though her attention keeps drifting back to the windows.
Over the following days, the family settles into a quiet routine. Joseph and Marie explore the area around the cabin, prepare meals, and spend part of each afternoon on the deck. Sunny remains distant. Sometimes she uses her phone in silence; at other times she shuts herself in her room.
Marie does not mention the light again.
Yet on the night she sees it for the second time, she can no longer dismiss it as a reflection.
She wakes at around half past three. For a few seconds she lies listening to Joseph breathe. Then she gets up and walks out onto the deck.
The light is there again.
Marie looks at the sky. The moon is not full. It is not bright enough to cast that glimmer on the land across the stream.
The light flickers as brightly as it did the night before.
Marie returns to the bedroom and gently shakes her husband’s shoulder.
“Joseph. Wake up.”
“What is it?”
“Come out onto the porch. I want to show you something.”
Joseph struggles to open his eyes.
“What time is it?”
“Half past three. Please get up.”
He grumbles under his breath but eventually sits up. Marie leads him onto the porch and points toward the opposite hill.
“That’s the light I told you about.”
Joseph watches for a while. The light keeps flickering through the darkness.
“Yes, I see it.”
Marie waits for a reaction. Joseph seems more uncomfortable than surprised.
“Tomorrow we’ll go and see what’s out there,” he says.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
His answer reassures her once more. Soon they return to bed and fall asleep.
The next morning, Joseph and Marie begin getting ready to cross the stream. Joseph looks for boots and checks the vehicle, while Marie gathers some food and water.
Before they can leave, Joseph’s phone rings.
He looks at the screen with an expression of annoyance. Only a few people have that number, and they all know not to call him on vacation unless it is an emergency.
“Who is it?” Marie asks.
“I don’t know.”
Joseph answers.
The conversation lasts almost half an hour. Marie watches him from the kitchen. At first he stands by the window. Then he begins pacing, his face growing more tense by the minute.
When the call ends, he puts his phone away and is silent for a few seconds.
“I have to go into the city.”
Marie stops what she is doing.
“Now?”
“Apparently they’re about to finalize a major investment while I’m away. They need me to step in.”
“For how long?”
“Two days. Three at most.”
Marie looks outside. The opposite cabin is still visible among the hills, silent and distant.
“You promised we’d go today.”
“I know. And we’ll do it when I get back.”
“Don’t stay away more than two days.”
Joseph comes over and embraces her.
“I won’t.”
Then he says goodbye to Sunny. The girl barely comes out of her room to see him off. Joseph tries to kiss her, but she turns her face away and murmurs a farewell.
A little later, he leaves in the SUV.
Marie and Sunny go back inside. For the next few hours they sit together in front of the wood-burning stove. They talk, laugh now and then, and share a quiet lunch.
Marie loves her daughter deeply. Despite the distance Sunny has put between them, she is still the most important person in Marie’s life.
After lunch, Sunny goes to bed. Marie stays alone in the dining room, restless.
She looks toward the window.
The opposite cabin is still there.
Joseph’s promise comes back to her. So does the light. And the woman standing motionless on the bridge, wearing the same nightgown as her.
Marie tries to convince herself that there is an explanation for everything. But her unease will no longer let her wait.
She leaves a note on the dining table and gets ready to go out.
She does not know how long she will be gone. She knows only that she needs to find out what lies across the stream.