The Long Awaited Vacation

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The Long Awaited Vacation; Adventures in Log Cabins
Tweet Topic Started: Oct 16 2012, 05:52 AM (237 Views)
-The Raging Zephyr-	Oct 16 2012, 05:52 AM Post #1
The Winds of Change Posts: 1,254 Group: Elite Member #11 Joined: March 7, 2007	Abstract: A weekend getaway in the woods of Maine goes awry when a group of strange hunters makes their presence known. It's a test of temperance and sanity for the vacationers as bizarre occurrences begin to culminate around their cabin. It was the early morning, on one of those typical October days where the air is crisp and fresh, and the sun's rays warm and soothing. It was getting closer to that time of year when the New England Winter existed in a twilight, where the frost nipped and both nose and earth, and the last vestige of Autumn clung to the tree branches as long as the snow and frost delayed their advent. As he stepped off the bus, Johnathan Macbeth took in a deep breath of the sweet air, filling him with energy. It was a nippy morning, one of those days where you could see your own breath poof out in front of your face, but the still wind and golden sunshine made it feel at least ten degrees warmer than it was. Macbeth, with loaded backpack on his shoulders, set off in the direction of the mom-and-pop lodge down the street. Monson was one of those little one-street towns that dotted Maine, where virtually everyone was connected to the main road, and where most of the residents knew each other by name. Nestled on the outskirts of the aptly-named Hundred-Mile Wilderness, the quaint little town was the resupply point on the southern end of the massive stretch of woods. With no other place to stock up on one's daily needs for scores of miles, the town's claim to fame rests with the thousands of hikers that utilize it as their checkpoint. After not too long, Macbeth arrived at the lodge. It was a two story building, made entirely of wood, with wooden benches and chairs sitting in the grass outside. As Macbeth made his way to the door, the smell of fresh-cooked eggs and sausage wafted across the front porch, striking a sharp pang in his belly. The inside was a bit disorderly; a cramped general store filled with innumerable hiking supplies took up half the space of the first floor, while the other side was an inn. There were a few tables and benches taking up the space up to the front counter, where a fat leather-bound ledger rested next to an old-fashioned ink quill. The whole place was reasonably empty for this time of year, save for a lone man sipping at a scalding cup of tea, steam billowing in great clouds. To Macbeth, he resembled one of those young libertarians, what with his red spiky hair and his designer leather jacket. Taking a seat at an adjacent table, Macbeth calmly waited for his companions to arrive. He did, after all, ensure that he left the earliest by spending the last 24 hours packing absolutely everything he needed (which incidentally was 90% of his total assets.) It was the perfect getaway for everyone: A whole weekend off in the woods, with a log cabin and nobody else to be bothered with. It only cost the past three months' savings just to afford the place for three days, but it was going to be worth it. Well, in theory. It was only a few minutes worth of waiting before a pleasantly plump woman came down from the stairwell in the corner. With a smile on her face, she approached Macbeth, hands folded upon the apron at her waist. "Good morning dear, can I get you anything?" she asked. "Are you all still serving breakfast?" Macbeth inquired. "Of course we are! Do you want me to get you a plate?" "Two, if you don't mind, and some water." "Coming right up!" She nodded, and then quickly vanished behind the counter. While he waited, Macbeth took a gander over at the red-haired man. He clutched a stack of crumpled notes in one hand, glancing at them studiously, flipping through pages at a steady rate. It was mostly incomprehensible to Macbeth; each page was splattered with a smattering of broken English mixed with German, some Slavic language, and grammatically disorganized Latin, with the occasional image sketched on the page. Feeling curious, Macbeth leaned over towards the man's table. "Hey there," said Macbeth. "I think I've seen you somewhere before." "No, I don't think you have," the man spoke. He hadn't taken his eyes off his notes. "Are you sure? You remind me of someone.: "No. If you do not mind, I am busy and would prefer to be left alone." Macbeth shrugged. "Suit yourself." With a sigh, Macbeth turned back in his seat, just in time for a steaming plate piled with eggs, sausage, and turnip to be plopped in front of him. The lady smiled at Macbeth as she set down silverware and a glass of water beside the meal. "Double order. Eat up!" "Certainly," Macbeth said, fork and knife already in hand. Well, at least he wasn't going to be bored waiting for everyone else to arrive.



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