“Of course you are going,” was his reaction when Nan told him. That was not the reply she had anticipated, and she gave him a quizzical look. “I mean,” he floundered, “I think that’s a great idea. I will miss you all, of course, but I think I can survive alone for a couple days, and I have lots to do anyway.” She shrugged it off, perhaps grateful that the path for her to leave had opened so easily.
“I just think it would be good for Kate, especially, to get away for a few days,” she added, and he nodded in agreement.
A quick call to Nan ’s sister and their trip was set. The house soon became a whirlwind of activity. Josh and Kate were both delighted; this would extend their spring break for a week. They loved visiting their cousins and were an easy sell on the whole idea, not that they really had any choice in the matter.
On the sly, Mack called up Willie and, while trying rather unsuccessfully to not divulge too much information, asked if he could borrow his friend’s four-wheel drive Jeep. Since Nan was taking the van, he needed something better than his own little car to negotiate the pitted roads in the Reserve, which would most likely still be buried in winter’s grip. Mack’s odd request predictably started a barrage of questions from Willie, questions that Mack tried to answer as evasively as he could. When Willie bluntly asked if Mack’s intention was a trip to the shack, Mack told him that while he could not answer his questions at that moment, he would explain fully when Willie came over in the morning to exchange vehicles.
Late Thursday afternoon, Mack saw Nan, Kate, and Josh off with hugs and kisses all around, and then he slowly began his own preparations for the long drive to northeastern Oregon -to the place of his nightmares. He reasoned that he wouldn’t need much if God had sent the invitation, but just in case, he loaded up a cooler with much more than enough for the miles he would be traveling and then added a sleeping bag, some candles, matches, and a number of other survival items. There was no doubt the possibility that he had turned into a complete idiot or was the butt of some ugly prank, but he would then be free to just drive away. A knock at the door startled Mack from his concentration, and he could see that it was Willie. Their conversation must have been sufficiently perplexing to warrant an early visit. Mack was just relieved that Nan had already left.
“I’m in here, Willie. In the kitchen,” Mack called out.
A moment later, Willie poked his head around the hall corner and shook his head looking at the mess that Mack had made. He leaned against the door-jamb and crossed his arms. “Well, I brought the Jeep and it’s full of gas, but I am not handing over the keys until you tell me what exactly is going on.”
Mack continued piling things into a couple bags for the trip. He knew it was no use lying to his friend, and he needed the Jeep. “I’m going back to the shack, Willie.”
“Well I figured that much out already. What I want to know is why you even want to go back there, especially at this time of year. I don’t know if my old Jeep’ll even keep us on the roads up there. But just in case, I put some chains in the back if we need them.”
Without looking at him, Mack walked to the office, pried the lid off the small tin box, and took out the note. Reentering the kitchen, he handed it to Willie. His friend unfolded the paper and read silently. “Jeez, what kind of loony kook would write you something like this? And who is this Papa?”
“Well, you know, Papa- Nan ’s favorite name for God.” Mack shrugged, not sure what else to say. He took back the note and slid it into his shirt pocket.
“Wait, you aren’t thinking this is really from God, are you?”
Mack stopped and turned to face him. He had just about finished packing anyway. “Willie, I’m not sure what to think about this. I mean, at first I thought it was just a hoax and it made me angry and sick to my stomach. Maybe I’m just losing it. I know it sounds crazy, but somehow I feel strangely drawn to find out for sure. I gotta go, Willie, or it’ll drive me nuts forever.”
“Have you thought of the possibility that this might be the killer? What if he’s luring you back for some reason?”
“Of course I’ve thought of that. Part of me won’t be disappointed if it is. I have a score to settle with him,” he said grimly and paused. “But that doesn’t make a lot of sense either. I’m not thinking the killer would sign this note Papa. You’d have to really know our family to come up with that.”
Willie was perplexed.
Mack continued, “And no one who knows us that well would ever send a note like this. I’m thinking only God would… maybe.”
“But God doesn’t do stuff like that. At least I’ve never heard of him sending someone a note. Not that he couldn’t, but, you know what I mean. And why would he want you to return to the shack, anyway? I can’t think of a worse place…” The silence that hung between them grew awkward.
Mack leaned back against the counter and stared a hole through the floor before speaking. “I’m not sure, Willie. I guess part of me would like to believe that God would care enough about me to send a note. I’m so confused, even after all this time. I just don’t know what to think and it isn’t getting better. I feel like we’re losing Kate and that’s killing me. Maybe what happened to Missy is God’s judgment for what I did to my own dad. I just don’t know.” He looked up into the face of a man who cared more about him than anyone he knew, except Nan. “All I know is that I need to go back.”
There was silence between them before Willie spoke again. “So, when do we leave?”
Mack was touched by his friend’s willingness to jump into his insanity. “Thanks buddy, but I really need to do this alone.”
“I thought you’d say that,” Willie responded as he turned and walked out of the room. He returned a few moments later with a pistol and a box of shells in his hands. He gently laid them on the counter. “I figured I wouldn’t be able to talk you out of going, so I thought you might need this. I believe you know how to use it.”
Mack looked at the gun. He knew Willie meant well and was trying to help. “Willie, I can’t. It’s been thirty years since I last touched a gun and I don’t intend to now. If I learned anything back then, it was that using violence to solve a problem always landed me in a worse problem.”
“But what if it is Missy’s killer? What if he’s waiting for you up there? What are you going to do then?”
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, Willie. I’ll take my chances, I guess.”
“But you’ll be defenseless. There’s no telling what he has in mind, or in hand. Just take it, Mack.” Willie slid the pistol and shells across the counter toward him. “You don’t have to use it.”
Mack looked down at the gun and after some deliberation reached slowly for it and the shells, putting them carefully in his pocket. “Okay, just in case.” He then turned to pick up some of his equipment and, arms loaded, headed out toward the Jeep. Willie grabbed the large duffle bag remaining, finding it heavier than he had anticipated, and grunted as he hoisted it.
“Jeez, Mack, if you think God is going to be up there, why all the supplies?”
Mack smiled rather sadly “I just thought I’d cover my bases. You know, be prepared for whatever happens… or doesn’t.”
They made their way out of the house to the driveway where the Jeep sat. Willie pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Mack.
“So,” Willie broke the silence, “where is everybody, and what did Nan think of you heading out for the shack? I can’t imagine she was real pleased.”