The Keeping by Nicky Charles
From her vantage point, Mel checked out the street to the right, which was approximately two blocks in length. A small medical clinic was at the far end of the town. It was rather new from the look of the brick and the clean white sign hanging in front of it proudly proclaiming its hours of operation. Next in line was a small diner simply called ‘Ruth’s’ Red checked curtains hung in the window and wooden planter boxes stood on either side of the door awaiting planting. A church with a modest spire and a small graveyard beside it came next, then a cenotaph, and finally a barbershop followed by a few houses. Swivelling her head to the left, she noted that she’d parked beside the local newspaper office. A sign in the window proclaimed that publishing occurred every Wednesday and you must submit your items for inclusion by closing time on Mondays.
A rather disreputable looking bar caught her attention next, and she quickly skimmed over it, having no intention of ever setting foot in such a place. Located beside it, was a gas station that had one set of pumps and two bays for car repair. Several vehicles were parked around it. Some were still in decent shape, while others seemed to be defying the odds by still being on the road despite advanced rust damage.
Through her rear-view mirror, Mel could see a general store, which seemed to be the main hub of activity at the moment; several people entered and exited even as she watched. It also had signs indicating it was the location of the post office and the catalogue order store as well. A hand painted sign pointed to the rear and proclaimed unisex hair designs were available around the back.
Light traffic moved up and down the street, which sported the grand total of one traffic light. Chuckling, Mel noted a dog sitting patiently on the curb as if waiting for the light to change colour. Sure enough, when the signal turned green, the canine stood and went on its way. A few pedestrians were also crossing the road, though they were less law abiding than the dog and unabashedly jaywalked across the town’s main thoroughfare. At least one person slowed their pace and took a moment to look her way, apparently realising that her vehicle wasn’t a local one and hence someone new must be in town.
Welcome to Stump River, she muttered. A place where everybody knows your name. The idea of such a small community made her vaguely uncomfortable, but on the other hand, it would probably help in her search for Taylor. If the man had lived here for more than a week, the locals probably knew all of his life history.
With this thought in mind, she bravely climbed out of her car and headed towards the building beside her. It was the home of the Stump River Gazette. Hopefully, the local reporter would know exactly where Taylor lived. Perhaps, someone there would also be instrumental in helping her locate a place to stay overnight. She crossed her fingers, praying that there were rooms to rent locally, not looking forward to the idea of travelling that so-called road every day for the next week or so while she conducted her interviews.
A bell jingled merrily as she entered the small building housing the inner workings of the Gazette. The scent of newsprint and old coffee hit her as soon as she stepped inside. A brief look around the room indicated that it was a stereotypical small town newspaper. Past articles were pinned to the wall along with posters for free kittens and an upcoming fundraiser. Three wooden chairs sat waiting for someone to sit in them and a tired philodendron graced the corner near an ancient cast iron heater. Midway across the room, an old laminate counter divided the work area from the customer service zone. Behind it, a middle-aged woman sat frowning at a computer screen, the piece of technology rather at odds with its surroundings. A short distance from the computer station, a man of similar age was engaged in a conversation on the phone, occasionally jotting notes as he nodded at something the caller must have said. He glanced Mel’s way and raised a finger, indicating he would just be a moment.
Mel leaned against the counter and waited patiently for the man to finish his business. It was a short wait and soon he was strolling over to talk to her.
“Good morning, ma’am. How can I help you?”
“Hello. My name is Melody Greene. I’m looking for Ryne Taylor and I was wondering if you’d be able to tell me where to find him?”
“Ryne, eh?” The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully and Mel absentmindedly noted how the overhead lighting shone off his mostly balding head, the shiny area being surrounded by a greying fringe. “Well, it’s Saturday so he won’t be in town today. His place is about ten miles away, on Stump Line. Are you familiar with the area?”
“No. It’s my first time to Stump River.”
“I thought so, since I couldn’t recall having seen you before. My name’s Josh Kennedy, by the way.” He reached across the counter and they shook hands. His grip was firm and friendly, a polite smile gracing his pleasant face.
“Pleased to meet you. Is Taylor’s place hard to find?”
“Well, it’s set back in the woods and the driveway is easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it. Is he expecting you?”
“No, not really. It’s a surprise.” Mel felt it best to keep her cards close to her chest for the time being in case these people were as inclined to keep her away from her goal, as Elise and her fellow townsfolk had been.
“Uh-huh.” Josh looked her up and down as if he knew something.
Mel swore his eyes lingered on her waist and she felt herself blushing. The man obviously thought she was an abandoned girlfriend—possibly even a pregnant, abandoned girl friend—looking to find Ryne. It made her wonder about the photographer. Maybe he wasn’t seventy and pot-bellied, after all. Could the term ‘playboy’ suit him instead?
“Well, I can draw you a map, but I’ll warn you. Ryne and his friends aren’t overly fond of visitors to their house. They have no trespassing signs posted all over the place.”
Friends? Mel felt a bit surprised by this, for some reason viewing the photographer as a brooding recluse. She wondered who the friends were and how many lived with him. A girl friend, possibly, since Josh obviously thought she might be last year’s rejected love interest.
While she wasn’t pleased with the assumption that she was a discarded girlfriend, at least it let her know that Taylor was probably under fifty and not totally unappealing to look at. The idea perked up her spirits a bit.
The woman had abandoned her computer, now possibly thinking that a newcomer was more interesting than whatever article she was writing. As she approached the counter, Mel decided she was a perfect match for her co-worker; both average height and weight with grey sprinkled throughout their hair. She had the same friendly, inquiring smile as the man did, too. “Who’s this, Josh?”
“Melody Greene. She’s looking for young Taylor.”
“Ryne?” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You and how many others.”
“Pardon?” Mel wasn’t quite sure what the woman meant. Were other people trying to do research on him as well?
“Every single female below seventy, and a few who aren’t, have tried to catch Ryne’s attention.” She grinned mischievously. “He’s a looker, I’ll say that. And he knows how to charm the ladies.”
“Beth.” Josh gave the woman a warning glare and she responded by hitting him lightly on the arm.
“Josh, you know I’m still smitten with you even after twenty-five years. I just look at the man. It’s strictly hands off.” The two exchanged a look, and Josh pulled Beth into a one armed hug. Mel felt uncomfortable, as if she was intruding on a private moment. She turned to study a poster on the wall, trying to ignore the emotions zinging through the air between the two.
Josh cleared his throat and Mel shifted her gaze back towards him. Beth, who must be his wife or at least a long-time companion, was returning to her desk. It was easy to see that she had a light blush on her cheeks and her eyes sparkled.
Mel felt a twinge of envy over their relationship, but forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. “If you could draw me a map to his house, I’d really appreciate it.”
“No problem, Ms. Greene. If you just watch carefully for the
“Thanks.” She folded the paper and carefully tucked it into her purse. “I was also wondering if anyone had rooms to rent. I’m planning on staying in the area for at least a week and was hoping I wouldn’t have to do the two hour commute from Timmins every day.” Timmins was the nearest community of any size that offered much in the way of accommodation.
“Actually, we have a few cabins we rent out in the summer. They’re not fancy, but since it’s off-season we can give you a good deal.” Josh looked over his shoulder and spoke to Beth. “We could open up a cabin for this girl, couldn’t we?”
Beth looked up from her work. “Sure. I could take her out there right now. There’s no rush on this article.”
Mel grinned, pleased at her good fortune. “I’d really appreciate it. Is there a grocery store where I could buy some supplies?”
“Brown’s General Store probably has everything you need. I’ll show you where it is on the way to the cabin.” Beth grabbed her purse and coat, and soon they were on their way.
The Kennedys’ cabins were about five miles outside of town, located at the back of their property, but secluded from view by a thick woodlot and backing onto a forest. There were three of them; each set a nice distance from the others. Made from logs, they sported a stone fireplace located in a cozy open-plan kitchen and living-room, a small bathroom, and a bedroom.
“The fireplaces are safe to use and there’s wood stacked beside the cabin. I’ll turn on the electricity for you, but I’m afraid there’s no phone hooked up.” Beth explained as she dug out a set of keys for her guest.
Mel peered into the small bath area, pleased to note a refurbished claw-foot tub, complete with a rainforest shower head. The kitchen had a microwave, stove and fridge and the bed appeared to be comfortable. “This will be perfect. Thank you so much.”
“I should be thanking you. These cabins sit empty for a good part of the year. We get a few vacationers in the summer, some spring fishermen, and some hunters in the fall, but that’s about it. You’re a bonus. Because of you, I might be able to convince Josh that we can afford that new dishwasher I’ve been eyeing up in the catalogue.”
Chuckling at the woman’s practicality, Mel bid her goodbye and went back to the car to get her suitcase and laptop computer. It would be nice to have a temporary home base. She’d flown into Toronto two days ago, taken a smaller flight to Sudbury yesterday and had spent the day driving to Timmins and doing some sight-seeing. The area really was beautiful with incredibly blue skies, a myriad of waterways and miles upon miles of forests.
Inhaling deeply, she appreciated the cool crisp air that seemed to contain more oxygen than her urbanized lungs had ever thought possible. Used to the staler air of city life, she found this to be almost intoxicating and eagerly looked forward to taking a few walks in the forest during her time here. Mel eyed the heavily treed area situated behind the cabins and wondered how safe it was. Were there many dangerous wild animals in there? She’d have to ask when she stopped in town to get groceries.
Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost noon. Quickly, she finished emptying the car, locked the cabin door, and drove back to town. The small diner she’d seen earlier would probably serve a good lunch; the thought of food was rather appealing at the moment. After that, she’d drive out to Taylor’s, introduce herself to the man, and maybe even arrange an interview schedule. Once that was done, she’d get some groceries and head back to her cabin.
*****
Standing outside the locked gate, Mel furrowed her brow and considered the situation. While at the diner, she’d checked a phone book and there was no listing for Ryne Taylor. Contacting him at his house seemed the next best solution, but it wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought. Signs stating ‘No trespassing’ and ‘No Hunting’ hung in clear view, but so was the mailbox with the name Taylor printed in block letters. The man she wanted to see was somewhere behind that gate and she needed to get to him. She could leave a note in the mailbox, but making personal contact with him seemed important.
She got out of the car and approached the gate, giving it an experimental shake. It creaked slightly and the ‘No Trespassing’ sign slipped a bit to the side. Hmm… Chewing her lip, Mel considered the idea that had popped into her head. What if the ‘No Trespassing’ sign fell off the gate? If it was lying face down in the mud, then she couldn’t see it and no one would be able to blame her if she went on the property, would they? Her conscience pricked her, but she firmly ignored it in favour of achieving her goal. Glancing up and down the road to ensure that no one was about, she grabbed the sign in her hands and pulled.
At first it was resistant to its imminent removal and she pulled even harder. Leaning back, she used her weight to aid her efforts. There was a screeching sound as the nails began to give way, then suddenly Mel found herself stumbling backwards, the sign clenched in her hands. Unable to regain her balance, she felt herself falling and scrunched her face in anticipation of the pain that would surely accompany her sudden stop. Surprisingly enough, the impact with the ground was softer than she thought it would be, probably due to the fact that she’d landed in one of the few remaining snow-banks that were heaped along the side of the road.
Mel lay on her back and stared up at the sky, regaining her breath before easing herself into a sitting position. Bits of snow were sliding icily down the back of her neck and she reached around to pick them out of her collar. Well, at least the sign had come off. Gingerly, she stood and moved about, checking for injuries. Besides a slight tenderness around her backside, and some bruising to her ego, she felt all right.
Checking again to make sure no one was around, she approached the gate once more and dropped the ‘No Trespassing’ sign face down on the ground. Her rental vehicle was pulled to the side of the road already, so she wasn’t blocking traffic if she left it there for a little while. Not that there was much chance of traffic in such an out of the way location. She hadn’t passed a single house on her way here. It really was an isolated area. Still, if Taylor specialized in photographing nature, she supposed it made some sense for him to immerse himself in his subject.
Shifting her purse onto her shoulder, Mel studied the gate. It was made of wood and almost a foot over her head. She considered going around it, but a fence extended from each side for about fifty feet in either direction. Beyond that, a large ditch filled with water from the melting snow formed an impressive barrier to keep people off Taylor’s property. There was a slight gap along the bottom of the gate, but Mel knew she’d never be able to wriggle underneath. Going over it appeared to be the only option.
She jiggled the gate once more in the vain hope that the lock would pop open. Of course, it didn’t and she made a mental note to learn how to pick locks, before taking on another such assignment. Then, giving a resigned sigh, she began her ascent. Grasping the top of the structure, she pulled herself upwards, while trying to gain a foothold on the latch. It wasn’t the most dignified sight she was sure, but at least she was wearing jeans and not a dress. With a good deal of huffing and puffing, she finally managed to pull herself to the top of the gate and sat astride the structure, catching her breath and savouring the sweetness of success.
The feeling only lasted a moment however, since the top of the fence was decidedly uncomfortable to sit upon. Cautiously, she swung her leg over and stared at the ground below. It suddenly seemed much farther away now that she had to jump down. Mel wasn’t overly fond of heights and while six feet wasn’t that high, her stomach still gave a funny little lurch as she contemplated her next move. Realizing that delay wouldn’t make things better, she took a deep breath and jumped.
The landing was less than stellar and she wouldn’t get any points for form or grace.
Drying her hands on her coat sleeve, she hitched her purse over her shoulder and happily set off down the driveway. At least the hard part was over. Walking to the house and talking Taylor should be a breeze in comparison.
Chapter 5
Twenty minutes later, Mel hobbled over to a fallen log and sat down not even caring if the crumbling mossy surface stained her pants or not. Her optimistic spirits were seriously flagging. The fashionable knee high boots, which had seemed eminently suitable in that they made her look taller, were not designed for long walks down an unpaved driveway. She couldn’t even begin to count the number of times she had twisted and wobbled as her four-inch heels made contact with lumps of gravel, throwing her off balance.
Rubbing her sore ankle, and wiggling her protesting toes, Mel frowned, wondering how much farther she’d have to walk before reaching the house. She peered ahead but the drive twisted around yet another bend, obscuring her view of what might be ahead. Compressing her lips, she shook her head. There was obviously something strange about this man. No one in their right mind had this long of a driveway.
When she had first started walking, Mel had taken interest in her surroundings. She had no great knowledge of nature but even she knew that the trees were mostly evergreens with a few deciduous varieties thrown in for good measure. They grew close together, their branches stretching and blending, partially blocking the view of the sky and shading the ground below. Because of this, the temperature seemed much cooler than it had in the more open, sun-drenched space of the road. Still, her coat, combined with the exercise of walking along quickly, had kept her sufficiently warm.