WINTERLAND
by Rik Hunik
5850 words
Copyright 2014 by Rik Hunik
A slightly different version of this story appeared in Wild Violet, Feb. 2013
Chapter 1
“Daddy, what’s summer?”
“You know, when the sun is warm and all the snow is melted, when the trees have leaves, and there’s grass and flowers everywhere.” Bryce Frost, down on one knee, tying the laces on his eight-year-old daughter’s figure skates, looked up into her serious, blue eyes.
Her little nose wrinkled and she tilted her head the way she did when she thought he was pulling her leg.
“You really don’t remember?” Surely she was old enough to remember summers.
The corners of her mouth drooped, she looked down and shook her head. “When does summer start?”
“Just a few more months,” Bryce responded automatically, trying to count the months in his head as he gave her laces a final tug.
“I’m cold,” the girl complained.
Even with his heavy sweater and a scarf Bryce felt it too, so he sat close beside her on the low bench and put a protective arm around her. “Yes, Misty, I know, but you have to practice. The big skating tournament is next month and you have a good chance of winning a medal.”
Misty sighed. “I know, I’m just so tired of skating.”
“Only a few more weeks, dear, then you can start with indoor soccer.” He chucked her under the chin and she managed to smile for him.
“That’ll be so much fun I can hardly wait, but I'm still cold.”
"Come on, skating will warm you up." Bryce stood and pulled her to her feet. While his daughter skated away he tried again to count in his head the months till summer but, for some reason he could not pin down a number. Putting his gloved hands into his coat pockets he wondered why the rink didn’t turn the heat up just a couple of degrees.
# # #
After skating he took Misty to The Ice Castle for ice cream, and then he let her rent a movie, “Cold Fury 3: The Ice Queen,” starring Janie Frost, no relation to his family. He dropped her off at home to watch the movie with her mother, then headed for Berg Foods, the biggest grocery store in town, where he worked evenings, unloading reefer trucks.
An inch of fresh snow made the road slippery, with more snow falling. In order to avoid being stuck in traffic behind the accident that blocked the intersection ahead, Bryce ignored the "Do Not Enter" sign and made a right turn into the long, narrow alley that ran behind Berg Foods. The trucks had the right of way through here, but he knew their schedule and he was running late. Still, it was with a surge of relief that he saw the next truck already parked along the back of the grocery store, it's trailer in position at the loading dock.
The truck’s lights went off and Bryce realized he never seen any of these reefer trucks from the outside, and never talked to any of the drivers. As he approached the truck he raised his hand to wave to the driver but his hand dropped back to the steering wheel before he completed the gesture. The driver had no face.
Bryce slowed the car and looked again, this time through the side window. A rough, stubbled face scowled down at him from under a baseball cap. Startled and embarrassed, he broke eye contact, drove away, parked in the back of the parking lot, and went in to work.
All through the first half of his shift he wondered, first about that faceless truck driver, then about the layout of the store. Maybe he had imagined the driver being faceless, but he was certain the cap had not been on the man’s head the first time he looked. And why were the cargo doors the only doors in the back of the building?
On his lunch break he went out the employee’s door on the side and scanned the parking lot. Snow no longer fell. Multiple footprints and tire tracks crisscrossed the parking lot near the front entrance, but he could still see his own tracks leading from his car. He zipped up his coat and walked up the alley, but when he got to the truck he found no footprints leading away from, it, from either door.
“Hello,” he said approaching the cab. He knocked on the door, then climbed the chrome steps and tried the door handle. The door swung open. “Hello?” Still no answer, so he poked his head in and scanned the entire cab without seeing any sign of the driver. As he jumped down a gust of wind blew under his coat, making him shiver, and the chill sank into his bones.
For the rest of his shift Bryce worked with extra zeal. He and his coworkers emptied the trailer half an hour earlier than usual. Bryce left his coworkers congratulating each other and hurried outside to talk to the driver, but the truck was locked and empty. On a note of stubborn curiosity Bryce decided to stick around. He was pacing the length of the trailer for the second time when the truck started. Bryce whirled around and ran back to the cab. The same scowling visage looked down at him as the truck pulled away.
The only footprints in the snow were his own.
Chapter 2
More curious than ever, Bryce hurried to his car, wiped snow off the windows with his sleeve and his bare hands, hopped in and raced across the length of the parking lot, making it to the street in time to see the truck turning right onto the street in front of him. Home was in the other direction but he followed the truck, staying a couple of vehicles back.
At the edge of town the huge cartoon snowman waved good-bye from the billboard but Bryce didn’t even glance at it. He knew the sign read, “Leaving Winterland Pop. 10,000,” because he saw it every time he visited a friend in the suburbs, or went skiing, just as he knew the next sign read, “Glacier Peak Ski Resort 5 km.”
A fat snowflake swirled out of the darkness into his headlights and right at his face, shattering and melting on the windshield. The wipers swept it aside but more flakes came, thicker and faster. By the time he passed the ski resort the wipers could barely keep up. Over an inch of unplowed snow now covered the highway, except for the tracks of the truck ahead. He turned up the heater to full blast to fight the chill.
The rear end lost traction for an instant and he eased up ever so slightly on the gas pedal. He wanted to stay close while avoiding the turbulence behind the trailer but all he saw now was the red glow of the taillights slowly pulling away. With grim determination he eased down on the gas but the car started to fishtail again, forcing him to slow down.
The red glow vanished completely behind the trees as the truck went around a long corner. Bryce cursed under his breath but dared not go any faster. By the time his car rounded the corner there was no sign of the truck, not even its tracks in the two inches of fresh snow, which was so flat and featureless he had trouble seeing where the road went. He shifted down a gear.
Trees loomed in the headlights and he hit the brakes, skidding to a stop on the shoulder. He jumped out of the car to take a closer look, not even bothering to close the door. The road simply ended. Evergreen trees, clothed in white cones of snow, stood tall in every direction except the way he had come. He had no rational explanation.
He shivered and got back in the car.
Chapter 3
The next morning he got up late, turned the thermostat up a couple of degrees and watched an ice hockey game on TV, without paying much attention to it. After the game he picked up Misty from school, then kept losing the “Snow Escape” board game with her until his wife Winter came home with a frozen pizza for supper. As soon as the babysitter showed up after supper, Bryce and Winter went out with their neighbors, Crystal and Cole Dayman, for their weekly curling session.
Afterwards, in the clubhouse over his bottle of ice-filtered beer, Cole commented, “You played even worse than usual today, Bryce. Where’s your head at?”
“Yeah,” Winter said. “It’s like you’re not even here. I bet you can’t even tell us the score, or what you had for supper.”
A
moment’s reflection proved her right. “Yeah, you got me there, but I do have a good reason.” He leaned on the table and gestured for them to come closer. Keeping his voice down, he told them about the faceless man in the truck, the trackless snow around the empty truck, which then started up and drove away with a man behind the wheel. He told them how he had followed the truck until it disappeared, and how, right after that, the major highway had ended in the middle of nowhere.
“Maybe you turned off the highway somewhere without knowing it,” Winter said.
Bryce shook his head. “As soon as I turned around it quit snowing, and as soon as I came around the corner I was back on the highway. I drove slowly and I kept an eye out for any other roads, but the only one I saw was for the ski hill.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Besides, I was following that truck and I was never more than two hundred meters behind it. Until it turned that last corner I never lost sight of it.”
The silence grew louder and the room seemed to get a bit colder.
Winter sat up straighter and three pairs of eyes focused on her, making her fidget with her hands in her lap, but after a few seconds she drew in a breath and said, “What did you do last summer?”
Bryce didn’t know what she was getting at but he was the first to answer. “We were on a team together and we played a lot of softball. And Misty was in a junior league.”
Crystal nodded. “And we went on more than one picnic at the lake with you.”
“Bryce and I went fishing and we all went camping a couple of times.”
Winter nodded and smiled at each answer, but her lips were pressed tight. “Sure you remember summer, and doing summer things, but do any of you remember last summer?”
“Of course.”
“Yeah.”
“Think hard, take as long as you like, then tell me a single specific thing that you did last summer?”
Bryce thought hard, chasing elusive memories, trying to count the months back to last summer, but it was like trying to count forward when Misty asked about summer at the skating rink yesterday. He could remember lots of summer activities over a period of years but nothing he could actually pin down to last summer. He quit trying, glanced instead at Cole and Crystal, saw their faces twisting in confusion. So he wasn’t the only one.
Winter wore the same tight-lipped smile.
Bryce broke the silence. “What are you getting at?”
“I went to the library and couldn’t find anything in the papers about anything that happened last summer.”
“What do you mean? How could they not report what happened last summer?”
“There were no papers dated last summer. And when I complained to the librarian she said I was the first person she knew that ever looked at back issues, but that she would look into it. I didn’t believe that for a second, so I called the newspaper office myself. Guess what. All their back issues from last summer are gone too. And here’s another thing; when is the last time you got fresh vegetables?” Winter paused to catch her breath and take a drink of her peach wine cooler.
Crystal nudged Cole with her elbow. “Tell them. Now’s the time.”
Cole glanced at Winter, looked up at Bryce, and asked, “Here’s something else to think about. Do you have relatives outside the city?”
Bryce took the bait. “Of course I do. Everybody does.”
“And how do you know that? What proof do you have? A piece of paper with words on it? Anybody could have written that. A voice on the phone? It’s just a voice. It’s not the same as seeing a real person.”
“Do you have a point?” Bryce took a swig of beer and contemplated ordering another bottle.
Cole stood up. “Come here and I’ll show you.” He led Bryce to the pay phone, dropped in some change, dialed a number. “Listen to this.” He held the receiver away from his ear and turned up the volume so Bryce could hear too. Somebody picked up, they exchanged greetings and then Cole said, “Hey Flo, it’s been a long time. You should come up and visit.”
“I can’t get away.”
“Then I’ll come down and visit you.”
“At this time of year? Are you nuts? You live in a snow belt, the snowplows can’t keep up. You’ll kill yourself on that highway.”
“Yeah, you’re right, it was stupid idea. Anyhow, it was nice talking to you. Catch you later. Bye.” He broke the connection, then handed the phone to Bryce. “Now you call somebody you know. Don’t let the conversation get too involved, just say what I did.”
“What is this supposed to prove?”
“Just do it. You’ll see.”
Bryce shrugged and punched in his sister’s number. Following Cole’s example he got through the greetings and cut to the chase. “Isis, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other and I really miss you. Why don’t you come up and visit for a few days?”
“I’d love to but I just can’t get away. My job and family, you know.”
“Then I’ll come down and visit you.”
“At this time of year? Are you crazy? The roads are so bad you’ll kill yourself five times before you get here.”
“You’re right, I’ll just wait until summer to visit. See you then. Bye.” He hung up the phone.
Cole smiled at him. “See, it’s the same conversation.”
“So?” Bryce knew Cole had a point, he just wasn’t getting to it yet.
“It’s the same conversation because they’re not real people, just like your truck driver wasn’t quite real. Let’s get back to the table and I’ll tell you the clincher. I want Winter to hear it too.”
Crystal had explained to Winter so Cole started right in with his story. “When Crystal and I drove out of town on the north road, the further we got, the worse the weather got, snowing and blowing harder, with the snow getting deeper on the road. About three kilometers past Cold Lake the road was closed by an avalanche, which isn't too surprising when you consider that we live in a snow belt, but when you told us your story about how your road ended in the middle of nowhere I realized it was all just a big snow job at both ends.”
“Big time.” Bryce shivered as the magnitude of said snow job registered. Somebody or something was seriously screwing with their minds, with the minds of everyone in town.
“What can we do?” Winter asked.
Cole scratched his head. “Well, the only two roads out of town both lead nowhere, and a reefer truck, trailer and all, vanished without a trace right in front of Bryce. I'm afraid we’re snowbound and I have no idea how to get out of here.”
Crystal said, “And where would we go?”
“Wait a minute,” Bryce said. “We’ve all been acting like we’re snow-blind, but it’s suddenly so obvious to me; the roads don’t matter because we don’t have to get out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The roads just take us further away, to the point where there's nothing distinctive, so the answer must be right here in town, probably somewhere downtown.”
Three puzzled faces looked back at him and Cole voiced the question they were all thinking. “Where?”
Bryce was at a loss and the silence stretched and stretched until inspiration struck. “What’s the coldest place in town?”
Chapter 4
Fifteen minutes later Bryce and the other three stood in the back aisle of Berg Foods in front of the “Employees Only” door that led into the back where he worked.
Crystal pulled her coat tighter. “I don’t think I want to go in there.”
“Don’t worry,” Bryce said, “you won’t get into any trouble.”
“I’m not afraid of that. I just don’t think I want to see what you’re going to find back there.”
Winter nodded. “She’s right. We’ll wait out here for half an hour.”
Bryce caught Cole’s eye. Cole nodded. Bryce pushed through the door and led Cole to the walk-in meat locker at the back of the store. He paused with one gloved hand on the handle to say, “Coldest place in town.”
&n
bsp; “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Bryce opened the door and stepped in. His breath misted and the cold bit at his exposed skin, cutting through his gloves and pants.
Cole joined him. “What are we looking for?”
“I don’t know. Anything unusual.” Even as he spoke his eyes scanned the huge freezer and picked up something on the floor ten meters away. As he approached he saw that it was a stainless steel trapdoor, set flush with the concrete floor. He pulled on the inset ring and the door rose smoothly on a hydraulic hinge, revealing a square hole that sank straight down through solid ice into blue darkness.
Without a word Bryce started down the ladder fastened to the side. Twelve feet down his feet encountered a rubber mat and a light came on, illuminating a small chamber with a single small bench in the middle. And a door in the opposite wall. He took two steps and leaned over to get a better look at the four objects that lay on the floor in front of the bench.
“Ice skates,” Cole said from right beside him.
“Yeah, the old-fashioned kind that strap on over your boots.” Bryce sat down and strapped on a pair, finding that they fit quite well considering they seemed to be made mostly of ice.
The door wasn't locked. He opened it and stepped out onto a hockey rink.
“This is really strange,” Cole said, pointing to the ceiling twenty-five feet above them. "There's no way we came down that far."
Before Bryce could reply the rink tilted and he found himself sliding toward the center line, which he now saw was a giant mirror, with his own reflection speeding toward him as the tilt increased. Logic said he should try to stop or turn aside, but as far as he was concerned logic had gone out the window yesterday when that truck disappeared, and events so far today had not restored his faith in that discipline.
In the last instant his certainty wavered and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for an impact that never came. When he opened his eyes he found himself in a round tunnel slanting down, so smooth and featureless the only indication of speed was the wind freezing his face. Over the rush of air he heard Cole close behind him, but he didn't dare turn his head to look because a fall at this speed could be disastrous for both of them. His only choice was to stay on his feet, enjoy the ride, and see where the tunnel took them.
After a period of time that could just as well have been a minute or an hour, he began to worry that his eyes might freeze in their sockets, but the tube leveled out and he braked to a stop in spray of ice particles. Ice particles bounced off his legs as Cole stopped beside him and they both turned around, but there was no sign of the tube. He wiped his eyes and saw a white landscape under an intense blue sky. They were on a frozen pond edged by leafless poplar trees, surrounded by snow-covered hills.