Silent Stranger

12 - Evan Returns to Work

My mind was consumed with worry as I drove my forklift around the warehouse. Leaving Sophie alone while I worked had been a terrible decision. I should've taken time off. I also regretted not telling her about the strange tire tracks and footprints. I kept quiet because I didn't want to frighten her. On second thought, the revelation would've prepared her to be more alert to possible danger.

It frustrated me how she refused to consider defending herself with one of my firearms.

There was a chance the uninvited visitor had come to ask about hunting on my property, something that happened occasionally. The mystery surrounding Sophie had me thinking the visit probably wasn't a coincidence. Someone had to be looking for her.

I picked my last load before lunch and drove the forklift to my locker. As usual, I planned to grab my bagged lunch and head for a quiet corner of the warehouse between some tall, dark stacks. Having to engage my coworkers in inane conversations about their favorite sports teams or weekend plans or politics made me ill at ease, so I avoided all contact.

They thought I was a weirdo.

I didn't care what they thought.

I exercised restraint by texting Sophie only once during the morning hours to find out how she was doing. She replied how she was scrubbing my disgusting bathtub. Her surly attitude and demeanor made me smile. She was acting her age which I took as a sign she was feeling comfortable.

While eating lunch, my phone vibrated. She texted: Stop by the store on your way home and buy oven cleaner.

I texted back: There's nothing wrong with the oven.

Sophie typed: It's gross. It looks like it's never been cleaned.

As far as I knew, it never was. I replied: The baked-on old gunk gets activated by heat and adds flavor to whatever I put in there.

She responded with an eyeroll emoji.

After a few minutes passed, she texted me again: And bubble bath.

Her request intrigued me: Where? I never bought bubble bath before.

She texted back: Grocery store. Get the kind with glitter in it if they have it.

Picturing Sophie covered with shiny speckles like a fairy made me laugh.

"Evan, is that you?" My supervisor, George Blair asked from the next aisle over.

"Yes, boss, do you need help with anything?"

He rounded the corner and approached. "I don't ever recall hearing you laugh."

"I got a funny text."

He grunted. "I've been checking your morning productivity. It seems you're not keeping up which is unlike you. What's going on?"

I hadn't realized I had fallen behind. I had been too preoccupied worrying about Sophie. "Some of my loads weren't stacked properly. I had to stop and adjust them."

He gave me a dubious look.

"It won't be a problem, George. I'll catch up this afternoon."

"See that you do," he said and walked away.

I got along well with my boss. He always stuck to business and didn't feel it necessary to engage in idle chit chat like most of my other coworkers.

The afternoon passed with excruciating slowness. At four I felt compelled to send a cautionary text: It'll be dark soon. Be sure to pull the shades. Sophie wouldn't be able to see anyone lurking around after sundown, and I didn't want her to be seen backlit by cabin lights.

I expected her to respond with a snide remark, but she simply typed: Ok.

At six, I turned in my forklift and plugged it in to recharge. On my way out the door, I texted: On my way home.

Sophie: Don't forget the oven cleaner and bubble bath.

The detour to the store took me an extra twenty minutes. I didn't arrive back at the cabin until a quarter past seven. When I pulled the truck up to my door, a jolt of fear passed through me. The cabin sat completely dark and appeared to be devoid of life.