Wetiikuo Cabin

Trigger: Swearing, brief racial stereotyping, animal distress.

I don’t usually do favors for friends, but this one was an exception. Tammie practically begged me to stay at her uncle’s cabin, simply just to house sit while he was on vacation in the Bahamas. Lucky bastard, I thought. College was going fine and I could spare the short one and a half week break between semesters. Like I said, I don’t usually do favors but I currently had a thing for Tammie. I met her in math class in high school, and we kinda hit it off. Usually people go off and ‘find’ themselves in other friend circles in college, but that didn’t really appeal to me. I guess it didn’t appeal much to Tammie either, and we remained friends. I guess it also helped that we ended up going to the same college, too. Either way, she asked me to stay up at her uncle’s cabin, and those damned brown puppy dog eyes were impossible to say no to. I got a lot of flak from my buddies, who were planning a bonfire drinking party the same weekend I was supposed to stay up at the cabin. I had already agreed to go and spend time with them, and I think that’s why they ended up being so upset.

Tammie’s uncle’s cabin was in the middle of nowhere. Up in Montana, near Bannack State Park was where it resided. Tammie mentioned that it was an old 1870’s cabin, but it had renovations done to it, with a new second floor and a basement added. I thought back to the conversation I had with Tammie about this place.

“Does it at least have plumbing?” I asked.

“Of course it does, coop. But not in the winter time, that’s when the pipes freeze over.” she replied.

“So, uh. Why doesn’t your rich uncle get a Hispanic house maid or something to stay there for him? Why do I have to go up there?” I said.

“Because,” Tammie said matter of factly,

“Last time he did that, the maid broke one of his late wife’s Delftware plates.”

I clicked my tongue. “I thought he hated his late wife.”

“He did. But the Delftware plates are stunning, even if the middle one is missing.”

When I arrived at the cabin, I was met with a mish-moshed frankenstein of a place. The smaller, logger’s cabin fused poorly with the 80’s remodeling and additional structure. Clear lines of where the old structure met with the newer one was like looking at some poor rendition of a Venturi Victorian chapel, minus the steeple. The old wood on both sides mixed and splintered unevenly.

Uh. I don’t think the chapel look contours very well, I thought.

Tammie had joked about how the old cabin was haunted, but looking at the twisted structure didn’t make me feel any more safe. I had brought Cookie, my tabby cat. He was my only true partner through any of this terrible, crazy life. I couldn't find anyone to take care of Cookie while I house sat, and I felt guilty bringing the cat. I did ask, though. Tammie gave me her uncle’s number, and I texted well in advance. No response, which made me think either he didn’t give two shits, or his phone was stolen by one of the beachside hookers. Cookie scratched at the interior of his kitty kennel, but I wasn’t going to let him out until he was inside the house.

“Almost there, buddy. Hang on a little while longer”

As soon as I said that, a loud crash sounded behind the cabin. Cookie hissed as I put his carrier down, and started to freak out. Relax, I said, trying to soothe my own thoughts. Probably just a deer. I took my backpack off and shuffled past overgrown bushes and weeds into the backyard. I didn’t see anything, and I wasn’t exactly expecting to see anything either. My heartrate slowed down a bit and I saw that two large pieces of wood crashed down onto a charcoal grill and knocked it over. Ashes and black pieces of coal strewn about where the edge of the grill tipped over. I could see into the back dining room area and kitchen from here, and wondered why they had left the blinds open. I thought that was what you weren't supposed to do. I looked at the huge mess. I’d have to clean this up later. And hey, maybe I’d even put together a steak out here one of these nights.

I tapped on Tammie’s icon in my messenger app.

“Your uncle has a crazy house that looks super haunted.”

Tammie was pretty good at responding in a timely manner, usually. I had the cat inside with most of my things by the time she got back to me.

“Yeah. He said the architect was some local loon that worshiped strange modern practices. Something about how knot tying and math worked together. My uncle was super pissed when the structure was finished, and had to pay off some sort of safety inspector.”

“Holy cow. You sent me to a haunted crazy cabin death trap?” I endorsed the end of my message with a few ghost emojis and crying emojis, obnoxiously.

“Yeah. Wait until you see the hand me down African vases and masks, along with the old 1870’s photograph self portraits. I swear their eyes follow you when it’s dark.”

“African what?” I texted back, and peeked my head into the side living room. This room was part of the old logger’s cabin, and the large wooden logs contoured into one another. Outside the evening was fading, and the night sky would be out soon. I could see hues of orange and violet slowly shifting into a blanket of stars. Like Tammie said, creepy ass portraits of old loggers and pioneers adorned most of the wall, along with a huge grandfather clock standing over a basket of wool blankets. Maybe if I learned more about the people behind these portraits, I wouldn’t be so goddamned creeped out by them. Yeesh.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful, besides exploring the strange old cabin. In select places if you sat still and held your breath, you could hear the wind seeping in through the cracks. That’s one way for bugs to get in, but I wondered if the cabin’s higher elevation prevented creepy-crawlies from causing any lasting psychological damage. Most of the cabin was fairly nice, as it seemed like new carpets were put in recently and the wifi worked fairly well. I couldn’t download anything serious, but if I wanted to I could watch netflix on my laptop. I audibly sighed relief when I found the wifi worked. I did bring up "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea” by Jules Verne, and the cabin had a library in the main bedroom that spanned from wall to wall. I checked out some of the titles, like William Gibson’s “Neuromancer” and Stephen King’s “Misery”. I had a lot of nothing time on my hands, so if I got bored I could jump to some of these other titles. The large bed and plush recliner looked at me, and a wave of tiredness washed into my bones. I sat down, and faded.

A loud crash sounded from the backyard again. The lights were still on downstairs, and my dry, watery eyes flicked to the overgrown treeline as I tried to peer out and see any signs of animals down below. Probably nothing, probably nothing, my mind raced. That sound was similar to the last loud noise, and I was feeling uneasy. Maybe there was some type of food left out there or the bears or something smelled food– I just didn’t know. It didn’t make sense. Cookie was yowling over and over again, scratching at the bathroom door. I knew it was custom to let your cat out in the bathroom to let them get used to the new area so they wouldn’t run away, and I didn’t want to take any chances with Cookie. I opened the door, and Cookie shoved his face in the crack trying to get out. I put my leg in the way, and luckily I was still wearing my jeans as he sunk his claws in trying to escape.

“No no Cookie. It’s alright. Probably just the same animal from before.” I said as I tried to soothe the poor cat. I had picked him up and was petting him in my arms. I thought of asking Tammie if any of the local wildlife was particularly curious about this cabin.

A small tinge of excitement rang in my heart as I opened my phone hoping to see if I had any new texts from Tammie. Nothing.

“Do you know if there’s any bears or specific deer that come up here near the cabin?” I hit send. The text wasn't delivered right away, but I didn’t think anything of it. I put the phone down. Cookie, at this point, had relaxed and was purring in my lap. I thought for a second. I hadn’t seen anything from the treeline, but I had jumped up right away to the backyard facing window. Strange. That animal must have been fast to clear the open backyard, or had been running flush against the cabin. If that were the case, I would have definitely seen it if it were a grizzly or even a smaller blackbear. Must have been a deer, I thought.

I set Cookie down, and splashed some water on my face. My eyes were awake now, and my stomach grumbled. I remembered that I hadn’t eaten since I got to the cabin, so my mind flicked to the frozen pizza pouches that I had bought. I had purchased the triple meat kind, and my mouth watered as I walked down stairs and turned the corner. But as my eyes witnessed the scene, a new panic flashed over me. The kitchen and dining room was a mess. The backyard door was wide open, with the pocket that held the bolt totally smashed. The little metal plate that held the lock in place sat on the ground, next to an open bag of charcoal. Black soot trailed all over the doorway. It looked as if a four legged creature somehow managed to smash open the door, trip over a bag of charcoal, and fling it everywhere.

What the hell?

I went straight into investigator mode. What happened? Why hadn’t I heard the lock being smashed open? I looked at the mess, and it was clear some sort of four legged furry animal had freaked out in the soot. Cookie had been yowling loudly, and maybe that’s how I missed all of this. Poor cat. Freaked out by some whack animal that decided that this cabin was going to be their den or something. I noticed the open kitchen window, and slammed it shut. My eyes naturally gazed outside, and my heart dropped. That’s when I noticed it. A new wave of panic rushed over my chest and body. A pair of charcoal footprints, no shoes, no socks, trailing into the home, but not out.