“Marty? Are you planning on coming in?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.” But he waited until the four of them picked up their bags and headed down the hallway before he made his move.
Once across the threshold he sighed, looking around and listening to the others joking and chatting in their rooms.
He looked at the wolf and growled.
Holden took the first room on the left, next to Dana’s. He was excited. It had been a weird journey up from the city, the lowest point being that ignorant fuck at the gas stop. But now that they were here he could feel them all relaxing, and it wouldn’t be long before they made this place their own.
Unpack, change, get the keg into the living room, sort out food for this evening, have a few more drinks… and maybe even one of Marty’s joints… and then the weekend would really begin.
And there was Dana. He could feel the charge between them growing, and now he was certain that she felt it too. She was as keen to be close to him as he was to her. It felt a little awkward in the company of the others—he’d invaded their group, after all, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Curt had brought him along as a potential fix-up. But he couldn’t deny the effect she was having over him.
He only hoped she’d brought a bikini.
He glanced at a picture on the wall—some old Victorian scene—then threw his bag on the bed and winced at how much it creaked. Sitting on the mattress and bouncing lightly up and down, he felt certain the resultant squeaking would attract bears from miles around. He hoped Curt’s and Jules’s bed wasn’t this bad, otherwise none of them would be getting any sleep. If what Curt claimed was true, they went at it like rabbits.
The room was an echo of the rest of the cabin— wooden walls, wooden furniture, with a few touches here and there to make it look more homey. There was a rug on the floor, one corner almost threadbare, and a woven cushion on the bed covers. He turned back the covers and shook them, pleased to see no moths exiting or spiders scuttling away. He ran his hand between the sheets and felt no dampness. At least that part of it seemed to be comfortable enough.
Looking around again, he found his attention grabbed once more by the picture hanging on the wide wall. He’d assumed it was an old horse-and-dog print, a country scene from a long time ago, maybe even imported from Britain. But looking closer, the detail started to stand out… and it was horrible.
It was a hunting party, and most of the members were shown dismounted, their faces flushed red with rage or freshly blooded, arms raised, hands bearing curved machetes that reflected gray sunlight where they weren’t also darkened with blood. At their feet were several big, vicious-looking dogs, reminding him more of the wolf’s head in the living room than the family pets he was used to. And at the focus of their attention was a lamb. Scarlet clefts had been struck into its back and flanks, and one dog had its slavering jaws clamped about the poor animal’s throat.
It was only a picture, but Holden found it repulsive.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said, taking the painting down. He bent and leaned it against the wall, picture now facing inward, and when he stood again Dana was staring at him through a hole in the wall.
He jumped, letting out a nervous laugh.
She stared.
“Wow,” he said meekly, “I’ve heard about the walls being thin, but—” And then he trailed off when Dana bared her teeth at him, leaning forward as if to take a bite from his face. Frozen by the strangeness of this more than afraid that she was going to bite him, he let his shoulders relax when he realized what was happening.
Dana was examining her teeth. She picked between the two front ones, turning slightly left and right to get the angle right to see toward the back of her mouth. Ran her tongue across her upper teeth, the lower. Stared again, at herself.
One-way mirror, Holden thought, and there was a creepy delight in the discovery.
He watched as she ruffled up her hair a little, pouted, and then she seemed to become distracted, staring beyond the mirror and through him as she dwelled on something for a long few seconds. A small smile tweaked her lips, then she shook herself from the reverie and returned to her bed.
She started unbuttoning her shirt.
“Oh shit, ah no, ahh… ” Holden said, torn between this golden opportunity and his common human decency. If he waited here and watched her strip, he could never tell anyone about the mirror. But if he made her aware, he might kick himself later.
Three buttons, four, that smooth plane of skin flowing from her neck down to her chest…
He had to make up his mind quickly, in the next couple of seconds, otherwise—
Five buttons, and the shirt fell open to reveal her tan bra, and if he waited another few seconds…
Holden cursed silently and banged on the wall. Dana froze, head cocked to one side, and Holden took that second to just look at her before calling through the wall, “Hold up!”
“What? Holden?”
“Dana… I just saw… come into my room. Bring the others.”
Dana closed her shirt and redid a couple of buttons, frowning as she left her room. Holden heard her calling their friends, and he backed away from the wall and turned to the door, preparing to greet them and feeling more ashamed than he should have. He’d told her, hadn’t he? Some guys would have watched all the way, jerked off and re-hung the picture, keeping the whole thing their dirty little secret. And some guys would have done that, then gone across the hallway to tell Marty.
He wasn’t some guys.
But I waited a few seconds longer than I had to…
Dana stuck her head around his door and smiled uncertainly. She entered, and Holden pointed at the window into her room just as Jules came in, Curt and Marty following her.
“Tan bra,” he said softly.
Jules got it first. She coughed surprised laughter and said, “You have got to be kidding me!”
“That’s just creepy,” Dana said as she caught on.
“It was pioneer days,” Marty said. “People had to make their own interrogation rooms. Out of cornmeal.”
Holden shrugged and ran his hands around the rough one-way mirror frame. “This is from the… seventies, judging by the weathering. Who did your cousin buy this place from, Curt?”
“We should check the rest of the rooms,” Curt said, ignoring the question. “Make sure this is the only one. You know Marty wants to watch me and Jules pounding away.”
“I didn’t even like hearing that,” Marty said, wincing as he turned and left the room.
“Beer,” Curt said, eyebrows rising, false realization dawning on his face. “Beer! Beer is the only answer!” He turned and dashed from the room, Jules rolling her eyes and following him.
“Don’t be an ape, Curt.”
The brief silence after the others left was a little awkward, and it needed more than a smile to break it.
“How about we switch?” Holden asked Dana. “Not that I’d… I mean I’ll put the picture back but you might feel better if we switched rooms.”
“I really would,” Dana said, leaving his room.
Holden cursed silently as he grabbed his bag, following her out into the hallway.
“Thanks for… being decent,” she said over her shoulder.
“Least I could do, since Curt and Jules have sold you to me for marriage.” Holden cringed a little; said too much? Dana cringed, too, but then her soft laughter made it all right.