Suitable Distance

Mitch had known that the cabin wouldn't be perfect. The pictures on the rental company's website couldn't hide the fact that it was light on luxury, nothing but a one-room cottage with a sparse kitchenette and small bathroom. Additionally, the hiker in him was disappointed that its location wasn't anywhere near Mt. Pleasant, but rather a stone's throw from I-25, near Ladson. The price was right, but the hidden costs would be the nonstop traffic noise and hour-long commutes to the seminars in Charleston, the reason for Mitch's trip.

However, the tiny cabin had a rustic charm that he appreciated immediately. It smelled of cherry oak and a bit of dust, a nice alternative to the chemical odor found in most hotel chains. Mitch also liked that there was a small patio where he could grill dinner or just sit back after long days at WISEC, which stood for "the Wayford Institute for Supportive Education Conference".

The week had gone by fast, a whirlwind of workshops and team building exercises. Mitch's company expected him to relay these things to his coworkers back home, though he doubted the value of it all. He had expected a few days of trust falls and silly logic puzzles (which he got), but the program also required psychology evals and a surprising amount of yoga. Altogether, it was more tiring than he'd imagined when he agreed to the assignment. On top of that, Mitch was pretty sure his coworkers back home would have no interest in any of the stuff the conference covered, especially the physical fitness criteria. He could only imagine how some of his less-than-physically-fit associates would possibly work themselves into a lizard bow or even a warrior pose.

And so the conference was a bit of a bust, as was Mitch's idea of a the trip also serving as a relaxing vacation. The exhausting days and long trips back to the cabin every night pretty much obliterated his plans to enjoy time off, maybe give that grill some use. Each night around eight, he practically fell out of his old Volvo clutching a greasy paper bag from one of the nearby fast food places. Trudging toward his tiny shack, he'd manage an unenthusiastic wave to the elderly people who were staying in a nearby cabin, a nice older couple who seemed to be spending their vacation sitting on lawn chairs and getting blasted on margaritas. Mitch couldn't help but feel envious of them.

His last night in Ladson, Mitch decided to do it right. He forced himself to pick up a nice sirloin steak and some vegetables from a real grocery store in Charleston before heading back to his cabin. Bolstered by a real meal in his arms, he got out of his car and confidently waved to Mr. and Mrs. Margaritaville, camped out as usual on festive lawn chairs next to their big blue SUV. Mitch could picture them throughout their years together, laughing and loving through the ups and downs, and not just because they were tipsy. But yeah, the booze probably helped.

Smiling at that thought, Mitch walked inside his cabin. He dropped his keys, cellphone, and the last of his conference work pages on the tiny table in front of the couch. Grabbing a few items from the kitchenette, he brought the groceries out to the back patio area, still within view of the drunken couple. They waved to him again. Mitch repeated the gesture and they both lifted their cocktails, delighted by the recognition.

It's like a Saturday Evening Post cover from the 1950's, Mitch thought. The couple looked to be in their sixties or seventies, but their cabin was just far enough away that it was difficult to tell for sure. Mitch was actually quite glad for the distance. They seemed nice and all, but just a bit too desperate for company. Why else would they spend each evening camped out on those lawn chairs if not to invite lengthy conversation from anybody that happened by?

Mitch set the grocery bag on the patio table, along with some plates and silverware he'd brought from the kitchen. He applied a sheen of lighter fluid to the charcoal, and was about to fire up the grill when a man appeared from around the corner of Mitch's cabin.