An Excerpt from A View from the Lake

     Through the swirling flakes of snow, a figure emerged. Walking slowly down the path between the lake and the grounds was a lone man dressed in a long dark overcoat and a black knit hat. Katherine put her coffee down, quickly butted her cigarette in an ashtray, and moved toward one end of the sliders. She cocked her head in an attempt to see the modest parking area between her apartment and the next cottage, but it revealed only her old Ford Bronco.
     It was virtually unheard of to see a stranger this time of year, particularly on foot.
     The man was at the base of the steps now. He glanced in both directions then lifted a pair of black eyes to the sliders, his lips pursed, trails of mist tumbling from his nostrils as his breath hit the frigid air.
     As she held his dead stare, Katherine felt another chill trickle across her spine. She did her best to appear unaffected. “Can I help you?” she asked, raising her voice so it could be heard through the glass. The man stared at her but offered no response. “This is private property, can I help you?” Katherine closed her robe at the neck with one hand and cinched the belt tightly around her waist with the other. Her unexpected visitor stood mere feet from her, separated only by a few steps and the large pane of glass. His rugged and heavily lined face made it difficult for her to gauge his age.
     “Nothing’s moving in the snow,” the man said, his voice gravelly and tight, as if he rarely used it. “The roads are getting worse.”
     It was certainly an odd way to begin a conversation, but she assumed he had seen the old sign advertising cottages for rent. Still, what was this man doing in a tourist town not only in the middle of winter but also with one of the worst snowstorms the area had seen in years on its way and already beginning to bear down? She leaned a bit closer to the slider. “I’m sorry, but we’re no longer in business.”
     “It’s very cold.”
     “You don’t understand. I can’t rent anymore, we’re closed.”
     “It’s very cold,” the man said again.
     Katherine glanced at the slider to make certain it was locked. “If you get back on the main road and — ”
     The man shook his head and motioned in the direction from which he’d come. A little girl stood huddled in a winter coat, the hood pulled up over her head so that her face was hidden. From her physical stature she appeared to be no more than six or seven years old. “She’s only a child,” he said in monotone.
     Katherine sidestepped a wave of guilt. “Where’s your car?”
     The man said nothing, only stared at her as if he hadn’t understood the question.
     His behavior seemed odd at best, wildly suspicious at worst. But then, what if he was simply disoriented? They had to have a car in such a desolate location. Maybe they’d had an accident. Or maybe he was some deranged lunatic.
     Or just maybe, she thought, I’m being paranoid.
     Hadn’t she once accused James of the same indiscretion when he’d first begun to question everything he saw and heard? Every excuse in the world, every rationalization was attempted, but once acknowledged nothing could stop it, nothing could make those things that haunted him go away.
     Now it was a daily struggle to make certain they did not haunt her as well.
     The lake had done this to her — to them both — it had all started with the lake, always the goddamn lake. It had caused her to never be quite sure which emotions were real and which were imagined. It had taken so much from her and left her with so little, most days it was impossible to distinguish genuine feelings of fear, loss, and confusion with the incoherent ramblings that often coursed through her mind.
     Although she felt horrible turning them away, she was a woman in the middle of nowhere and had little choice. If the man was not prepared to better explain his circumstances then she was in no position to trust him.
     “I’m sorry,” she said.
     The man watched her silently, the falling snowflakes rapidly accumulating across his inert form. Not wanting him to realize she was alone, she glanced over her shoulder and pretended to call someone. “Honey, can you come out here a minute? Someone’s here.”
     Katherine turned back to the deck, prepared to carry the bluff further, but the man and the little girl were gone.