Chapter 22: The Lady of the Lake

Once she was alone with her shampoo and her towel in the bathroom, she had a drab feeling of claustrophobia. The small room’s style was about as mundane as the rest of the house; just white tile and beige walls, with one tiny window over the toilet. The fixtures were outdated and plain. There was a vague orange staining that she recognized as a hard water problem, much like her grandparents’ well water.

Nevertheless, it was one of the most gratifying showers she’d ever experienced. For one thing, she was thankful she didn’t have to use the one in that suspect building out there. Also, it somehow managed to wash all her tension down the drain with the warm, sudsy water. Her shoulders and neck had been stiff and sore; either from the new bed or from her stress. But now she was ready for a new day.

Finally, after she’d finished toweling her hair, she strolled out into the screened porch. By that time, the sun had burned through the last of the fog and some of the visitors were mingling on the lawn again.

While she was pulling the top half of her hair back into a band, she looked for Marcia, in order to return the shower supplies. She didn’t see her; just her husband, Daniel, Ken and Jessica. Concealed within the shadows of the porch, Katrina watched curiously.

Daniel had an old blue tractor at the end of the driveway with a bucket load of straw bales. After dumping them there, he went to park the tractor next to the workshop. Upon his return, he brought a couple of archery targets, and arranged them before the straw bale wall.

Terry asked, “Are we shooting field tips?”

“Yeah. And I’ll bring out my primitive bow.”

“Nice!” Ken applauded.

After examining the targets, which looked like blocky, overstuffed feed bags, Terry commented. “What kinda target? Is that a recycle sign there in the bull’s eye?”

“Yeah. Course,” Daniel shrugged. “You don’t think I could get away with using throw-away targets every year, do you?”

After a low murmur of understanding, Terry shrugged, and Daniel turned toward the house. Still smiling, he pulled open the screened door, and was surprised to see Katrina there.

“Oh… Have a nice shower?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she nodded. Even though her hair was all pulled back, she still found a few strands to tuck behind her ear.

“Could you help me carry some things out?” he asked.

“Sure…”

He went past her into the hallway, to the last door on the right, and descended the rickety basement steps. Soon, he came bounding back up, paying no mind to their apparent frailty. With both his hands full, he kicked the door shut and turned toward her. Sensing her curiosity, he adjusted the bows in his hands, to give her an opportunity to examine them.

“Compound bow,” he held up the one in his left hand.

It looked like it could have just come out of a store box. It was pristine, intricate and complicated with pullies, strings and other gadgets. Katrina was intrigued, the same way she might be interested in a book of quantum physics. The sight of it was overwhelming, though, and it did not hold her attention.

What he held in his right hand was sleek, simple, and to Katrina it was breathtaking.

“Long bow,” he announced.

“Whoa.”

Katrina reached for it, turning it over in her hands, like an eager child. The gracefully curved bow was a deep honey orange, sanded to a matte gloss. The quiver was loosely tied to the bottom of the bow, and made of real leather and rawhide. It was etched with an exquisite portrait of a buck deer. Every detail seemed genuine. The drawstring looked like it was some sort of natural fiber. Unlike the modern arrows he held in his left hand, these were fletched with real feathers.

“Look at this one,” he encouraged, tapping on the center arrow.

Eagerly, she pulled it from the sheath, and squeaked.

“Daniel this is awesome! Where did you get this?”

The point was black and shiny, precisely symmetrical, exceedingly thin, and razor sharp.

“I made it. That was the best one. The rest just have field tips, for practice.”

When Katrina looked up at him, she knew he was telling the truth. Yet it was still hard to believe.

“Tom taught me,” he assured her.

“Oh yeah… that guy.” She remembered hearing about him, but she was too spellbound to think about it further.

When she held it up to the light, it was translucent. She imagined the kind of dedication it took… the precision of each flake…

“What’s it made of?” she wondered.

“Obsidian. My dad found a huge chunk at the bottom of Mount Rainier, and brought it to me.”

“Wow.” Finally, she surrendered the point back to him. “That’s really awesome, Daniel. The whole thing. It’s a work of art.”

After he placed the arrow back in the quiver, he thanked her genuinely. She could tell that he was also quite proud of his work.

“How long did it take you to make?”

“Probably six months for this whole setup.”

“Wow. It looks… perfect.”

Chuckling, he said, “Well it’s not perfect. But it is better than my first one. This one’s my second.”

“Wow,” she repeated. Then, in spite herself, she had to mention, “You must have a lot of time on your hands.”

Amiably, he smiled, but looked down at the bow. “I did that year,” he murmured.

After taking a moment to reminiscence, he reclaimed the work of art and headed outside. By that time the rest of the visitors had gathered around, eager to watch him in action. After everyone gawked at his homemade handiwork, Daniel nocked a practice arrow, aimed, and shot. To get a better look, Katrina slowly made her way out to the crowd, too.

“Hey, you hit the target!” Jessica congratulated him.

Making adjustments, Daniel shot the next five arrows, all of them hitting the target, but with varying degrees of accuracy.

“Great job, Danny,” Clarence commended him. “Have you gotten a deer with that?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t feel confident enough until I get more practice. Well…” With a wry grin, he reworded that statement. “Tom wouldn’t condone it until I can prove I’m more accurate. Some of those shots wouldn’t be very clean.”

“Where is he, anyhow?” Clarence wanted to know.

“He went down to visit family in Oklahoma…”

As they spoke, Terry took a turn with his compound bow. After a few shots, Daniel stepped aside and summoned Jessica.

“Could you show Katrina where the barn is?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, glancing toward her.

Quietly, he said to Katrina, “You can give them a small scoop of grain too, while you’re in there.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

Silently, she followed the teenaged girl up past a couple weather-beaten cabins on the northeast side of the yard. She’d seen them there previously, but never really paid attention. One of them appeared to be a utility shed, but the other had a small fenced-in arena behind it. Eventually they penetrated the woods and started down a well-worn path.

The canopy above was rich with many distinct shades of green. From up in those crowns, birds chattered and glided among the branches. As they walked beneath, Katrina knew they were up there, but saw nothing once they’d landed among the leaves.

“Drink your tea-ee-ee!” Jessica blurted out in a sing-song voice.

“What?”

Stopping, she pointed down into the debris and shrubbery. Up on the opposite bank, near a clearing, there was some minor scratching and movement. Katrina squinted, but couldn’t see it well.

“Rufus-sided towhee,” Jessica explained. “Listen.”

Sure enough, within a moment or two, the bird produced its familiar call. Again, Jessica mimicked, “Drink your tea-ee-ee!”

Delighted, Katrina smiled and nodded. She was impressed.

The two of them passed by a fork in the road, and Jessica took the one to the right, which headed down a subtle grade, with a few broad steps. Before she knew it, Katrina was looking down at a lush green pasture, a quaint board fence, and an old wooden barn. Pausing, her breath stuck in her throat for a moment.

The structure wasn’t log-and-chink like the house; it was just horizontal wood siding that was grayed and weathered with age. As they approached it from the southwest, the building faced them. Scattered through the pasture were about a half-dozen mature trees. Near the opposite edge of the field there was a little flowing stream. It had been a hot, dry summer but since it was nestled in a valley, complete with a stream and some trees, the pasture looked as fresh as springtime.

“You comin?” Jess inquired, when she turned back to see Katrina, staring awestruck.

As they neared the structure, the scent drew her in. Yes, this was the smell of her childhood. Every time she blinked, Katrina remembered something different from those long summers spent with her grandparents. Riding. Brushing. Hours spent braiding Sugar’s mane and tail. Cleaning out the stalls. There’s no such thing as a ‘chore,’ for a young girl who was in love with her pet.

The horses, which had been lazily grazing, came trotting into the stall upon the arrival of these two visitors. They may not have known who they were, but they knew there could definitely be snacks involved.

Nimbly, Jessica opened the rustic latch on the nearest barn door, and they entered the feed room. Immediately she flipped on the light. It was a dim, narrow corridor with plenty of well-maintained riding tack hanging from various hooks and posts along the wall. The scent was intoxicating to Katrina, who was reliving the experience of oiling and conditioning her saddle and bridle in her childhood. Jess lifted the top of the feed bin, and began introducing the horses, who were waiting in their communal stall.

“That’s Prince. He’s spoiled.”

Jessica pointed to the gelding with the shiny red-brown coat and long white splotch down his face. He was begging, prancing, and stretching toward them, trying to be first in line for treats.

“And there’s Gretchen.”

She was a light palomino beauty with flaxen mane and tail.

“And who’s that?” Katrina asked, pointing to the shy white goat, waiting her turn.

“That’s Blanche,” she smiled.

“Cute.”

“I’ll do Prince,” Jessica offered, plunging a hand into the bag of grain.

Eagerly, Katrina also grabbed a handful from the grain box, and leaned over the wooden partition. Since Prince was already accommodated, Gretchen had the chance to slurp out of Katrina’s hand. She found herself grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Aw, I can’t reach Blanche…”

“It’s okay, Daniel feeds her grain when he milks her.”

“Oh! I didn’t know…”

“But I can give them a little extra…”

Jessica dumped a thin line of grain into their trough, and they all fought over it there.

Satisfied, Katrina then took a look around. The floor of the barn was made of huge flat boards, some of them nearly two feet wide. The beams were equally impressive; the craftsmanship of the barn was unlike anything she’d ever seen. She hesitated to speculate, but this wood did not look like it came from the typical lumber yard. This was cut with cross-saws and other primitive tools.

Exiting that small room, she wandered into the large space next door. All alone in the center stage of the barn, behind the massive double doors, were a simple horse-drawn cart and a sleigh. Their place of prominence made it seem as if they could’ve been on display at a museum, yet the dust and cobwebs suggested otherwise.

“Does he ever use these?” Katrina wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Jessica replied, following her into the room. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Finally she looked up, and it was like beholding the star of Bethlehem. A single beam of light from the east, high above the hay loft, pierced through the musty darkness. The ray of sun danced with floating dust particles and… oh, that fragrance. The smell of hay, molasses, oats, and sweat, all mingled, marinated, and met her senses. It made her feel alive. Even the manure somehow gave it that authentic quality.

She couldn’t get enough until she’d explored every cluttered labyrinth and corridor in the building. Finally, they found themselves back at the feed station, looking out on the dirt floor of the stall. Gretchen and Blanche had already exited the sliding barn door, but Prince was still there, still ready, just in case.

“Do you think he gives riding lessons?”

“I’m not sure, but I bet he’d let you ride, if you wanted.”

“Maybe I will,” she said, even though she was doubtful of it. “Have you ridden before?”

“I’ve been on a couple trail rides on the coast before. It was cool,” the girl shrugged.

“Horses aren’t really your thing?”

“Yeah… I mean… I just like nature,” she smiled, shyly.

“I can see that,” Trina commended her. “You know more about nature than anyone I’ve met. Besides Daniel.”

“Yeah,” she beamed. “No one knows as much as Daniel, except maybe Tom.”

As Katrina continued to examine the carriages, she absently wondered about this Tom person again.

“I wish I could stay here all summer,” Jessica sighed, dreamily.

Katrina shrugged. “Maybe when you get a little older he’ll let you stay as an intern or something.”

“Yeah! That’s a good idea.” Jessica seemed to glow with this new inspiration. Katrina got the impression she’d be pondering that concept for the rest of the day.

Eventually, they made their way back up the hill. When they reached the fork in the trail again, Katrina asked, “What’s up that way?”

“That trail goes clear around the ridge top and ends back at the cabins,” Jessica pointed in a huge circle. “It’d probably be fun to ride the horses on that trail. But just over that hump, about 30 yards away, is the spring. It’s awesome. You should definitely check it out before you leave.”

By the time they reached the yard, they parted ways unceremoniously. Just before Jessica headed for the picnic tables, Katrina thanked her and headed for the house. She’d made a decision, and she needed to let Trent know. Her desire to have that trail ride, and to experience this place further, filled her with the desire to stay another day. Daniel said he hoped she would stay until she understood… So she took that as an invitation.

Nervously, she dialed the wired phone and counted the rings. Then she breathed a sigh of relief as she listened to his voice mail recording, and simply left him a message. Trying to sound considerate, and a bit regretful, she explained that it was only logical to wait until her car was fixed, and then drive herself to her destination. Anyhow, it was a nice place, she was staying for free, and she looked forward to having a full, relaxing weekend. Closing with a typical I-love-you, see-you-soon, she hung up and smiled.

Before another thought could enter her mind, she heard the sink running in the kitchen. Subsequently, she felt the void in her stomach, and checked the clock. Wow, was it really that time already?

Casually, she went through the snake room, and circled around to an adjacent area she hadn’t seen yet. It had a few more displays she acknowledged, and an old kitchen table. This was apparently where he ate when there were no visitors. At the side of that room was another door, which she understood to be the other entrance to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he greeted her, when she came in. “Have a good time down there?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “You have a beautiful place here.”

“Yes I do,” he nodded. “I’m very thankful.”

“So um… I was wondering… could stay a few more days? Until my car gets fixed?”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense,” he shrugged.

“Great,” she breathed. “Thanks.”

It felt perfect; like a square peg in a square hole. And it was a relief that he agreed so readily.

Without further consideration on the matter, Daniel pulled open the fridge and said, “Hey, could you help me with lunch? Maybe a salad? Most of it is already picked and in the fridge, from last night.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, there’s that,” he muttered, handing her a colander full of greens. “And could you grate some carrots?” he continued, as he rummaged in the fridge.

“Yep.”

“Thanks. The grater is in there. Look in that bowl over on the counter there… are there are couple of tomatoes in it? Oh wait… I haven’t even washed them yet,” he chuckled, grabbing one and returning to the sink.

As Katrina tentatively searched for a bowl to put the salad and grated carrots into, he kept thinking aloud.

“I don’t have anything planned… would it be boring to have burgers ag—?”

Suddenly, the faucet stopped.

Startled by the silence, she turned toward him. Abruptly, he laid the tomato on the counter, thrust into the porch door and exited the building. Curiously, she dropped what she was doing, made her way to the window, and looked out.

There was a man out there whom she did not recognize. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had thick black hair in a crew cut. With a neutral expression and demeanor, he stood talking with Marcia’s husband. To look at him, she didn’t get a menacing feeling, but she was definitely wondering why Daniel’s reaction was so hasty.

As she watched, he came trotting down the sandstone path with an enormous grin. The unknown man also sprung a smile when he saw Daniel coming. Briefly they latched hands, and then a solid hug ensued.

Katrina couldn’t help but smirk too, as she saw the men greet each other. They were already deep in conversation, nodding, gesturing, and it appeared they were heading into the woods, as if toward the barn. Dashing outside, she hoped to solicit an introduction to the man, whom she assumed was the legendary Tom.

However, they were already halfway across the lawn when she reached the end of the path. Terry had disappeared into the restrooms. Feeling left behind and disappointed, she debated whether to follow Daniel or go back to the kitchen.

Instead, she did neither. She simply stood there, watching their retreat to her far right. Her field of vision swept back to the left with a growing uneasiness, as if she was being watched. It wasn’t Daniel. No one else was in the yard, or in the workshop. No one was coming up the path from the cabins…

Then she saw him; a white-haired man crouched on the ground, about 50 feet down the driveway. He sat comfortably, with both knees and one hand gently touching the Earth. The other hand rested on his knee, but it was his expression that took her aback.

His eyes were fixed on her, enchanted, as if she was the Lady of Avalon, and he was in search of a sword.