Mystery Noir

Little Monsters Part 2

Big fluffy flakes were dancing through the air on their slow descent down to earth by the time I turned the car down the driveway and the headlights illuminated the small log cabin that nestled in the clearing. Towering pines crowded in, though the grass was not yet covered with snow, as it was melting as it hit the ground.

I parked close to the front porch and turned off the car, frowning through the windscreen at the cabin. Penny was silent beside me for a few moments before she reached out to squeeze my arm, then opened the door and got out.

I had never considered this place a sore subject for me. I had always just been too busy working to spend much more than a couple days at a time in the area. But the insightful side of me told me that I had probably been avoiding it. Most of my memories with my mother were in this place, as all the rest were of us travelling around and me switching schools if I went to a school at all.

This cabin, and in these woods, were where I remembered my mother best. Playing and exploring or her reading to me on the porch, us hiking through the woods, my grandfather teaching me to chop wood. It was as if my childhood had been restricted to this cabin and the rest of my life had merely progressed unremarkably while away from it.

With a shake of my head, I stood and climbed out of the car, grabbing my bags and a couple grocery bags to follow Penny up onto the porch. The wood creaked a little, but it was in good repair as I paid a local landscaping and repair company to take care of the place when I was not around.

I put one of the paper bags down on a small table outside the door and unlocked it, bumping it with my hip and nodding Penny in ahead of me. As she walked in, I picked up the groceries and glanced around at the surrounding dark forest, listening to the soft whisper of snow falling. The speed of their descent was increasing, and the ground was beginning to show signs of a white carpet.

A surprisingly warm breeze brushed past my face, bringing the scent of pine and snowfall, calling more memories to the surface. A forgotten recollection pushed against my awareness, but as I tried to reach out to it, whatever it was slipped through my fingers.

With a sigh at my own self indulgence, I turned and walked into the cabin, moving to put the groceries on the kitchen counter before shrugging out of my bags.

The main floor was one large open space with a black wooden stove off to one side, a couple brown plaid couches faced toward it with a live edge wood table between them. The kitchen was diagonal from the front door, with an island and an L-shaped counter space, a fridge, sink and stove. Two bedrooms were up a set of wooden stairs in separate lofts that were separated by the stairs landing that looked out over the main floor. A washroom was down a small hall to the right of the doorway, which also contained another two rooms and a door to the basement.

Looking around at the rustic decor that ranged from old beaver-tail snow shoes to oil lamps and wood carvings, I breathed in the scent that reminded me of my dead grandparents. It wasn't them that it smelled like. After the amount of time since they had passed away, their personal scents had faded, but the smell of the cabin made me think of them.

"I'll start a fire if you want to look after the groceries." Penny offered, drawing me out of my bittersweet reverie.

I smiled and nodded, returning out to the car in a quick shuffle to grab the rest of the groceries, half slipping in the thin coating of snow. Penny laughed as I gently kicked the door closed, drawing her attention.

I frowned as I kicked out of my shoes before walking to the kitchen. "What?"

Penny shook her head and snickered, turning back to where she was coaxing flames out of a pile of the wood. "You were coated in snow, your hair was nearly white."