Into the Woods (CA - Uno, Mark, & the Shepherds)
Quote from Adriana on May 18, 2023, 12:22 amSeptember 7th
(one day following Transitions)
Late afternoon, around six. Bob's truck rolled to a stop at a small paved area surrounded by tall pines, a sign just before it having read "Coyote Hill-Private Property" and in smaller print just below, "Trespassers will be Prosecuted".
They were a good three hour drive outside Middlecrest.
There was room enough for about four vehicles in the parking area.
A pathway opened up at the north of the campground, which, followed for a long period of time, would climb to a relatively low peak which opened up into a valley thereafter on the furthest side. The East and West followed the foothills for many miles, and behind them on the south were seemingly endless fields. Several herds of deer could be seen in the distance, grazing undisturbed.
A second truck came up not long after, this one towing a teardrop trailer. A woman in camo pants and a white tank top climbed out - Tara, as Val would recognize her. She put on a camo jacket and put out a cigarette, then looked towards Bob's truck. Painted on her face was a blatant look of sympathy, for undoubtedly, Val and Mark had said almost nothing the entire drive.
... And they hadn't. Bob as usual, claimed the space. He talked about the mountains history, about hunting trips he went on with his Dad, the specifics of said hunting trips right down to the time he got a fishhook in his eyebrow. Val and Mark were quite certainly well tortured.
September 7th
(one day following Transitions)
Late afternoon, around six. Bob's truck rolled to a stop at a small paved area surrounded by tall pines, a sign just before it having read "Coyote Hill-Private Property" and in smaller print just below, "Trespassers will be Prosecuted".
They were a good three hour drive outside Middlecrest.
There was room enough for about four vehicles in the parking area.
A pathway opened up at the north of the campground, which, followed for a long period of time, would climb to a relatively low peak which opened up into a valley thereafter on the furthest side. The East and West followed the foothills for many miles, and behind them on the south were seemingly endless fields. Several herds of deer could be seen in the distance, grazing undisturbed.
A second truck came up not long after, this one towing a teardrop trailer. A woman in camo pants and a white tank top climbed out - Tara, as Val would recognize her. She put on a camo jacket and put out a cigarette, then looked towards Bob's truck. Painted on her face was a blatant look of sympathy, for undoubtedly, Val and Mark had said almost nothing the entire drive.
... And they hadn't. Bob as usual, claimed the space. He talked about the mountains history, about hunting trips he went on with his Dad, the specifics of said hunting trips right down to the time he got a fishhook in his eyebrow. Val and Mark were quite certainly well tortured.
Quote from Indy on May 18, 2023, 9:04 amI had many regrets.
First, in not clarifying if coffee had been packed.
Second, in not thinking to bring a firearm.
Not that I didn't trust Chapman - I did - but we were presently in the outer stretches of wilderness and Chapman had an air of being up to something in a way that a handgun might have brought comfort. At least I could fight off a bear with a firearm. Or at least, the handgun would have been easier to explain to Mark than the six foot wolf-monster that's fighting off a bear.
I bore every story without remark, my thoughts becoming increasingly dark. Why the middle of the woods? Why Mark? Why was this an 'assignment'?
I wouldn't dare ask any of this to Chapman, even if Mark hadn't been in the car. He wouldn't have dared answer directly. The man was a showman true and true. He wouldn't reveal his play till he was darn-near ready to.
I exited, catching sight of Tara's sympathetic glance as she smothered a cigarette. The pit of my stomach further condensed. There might be a good reason why three werewolves and a human were in the middle of the woods that didn't involve a bad joke, but all the explanations I could come up with were bad ones.
I had many regrets.
First, in not clarifying if coffee had been packed.
Second, in not thinking to bring a firearm.
Not that I didn't trust Chapman - I did - but we were presently in the outer stretches of wilderness and Chapman had an air of being up to something in a way that a handgun might have brought comfort. At least I could fight off a bear with a firearm. Or at least, the handgun would have been easier to explain to Mark than the six foot wolf-monster that's fighting off a bear.
I bore every story without remark, my thoughts becoming increasingly dark. Why the middle of the woods? Why Mark? Why was this an 'assignment'?
I wouldn't dare ask any of this to Chapman, even if Mark hadn't been in the car. He wouldn't have dared answer directly. The man was a showman true and true. He wouldn't reveal his play till he was darn-near ready to.
I exited, catching sight of Tara's sympathetic glance as she smothered a cigarette. The pit of my stomach further condensed. There might be a good reason why three werewolves and a human were in the middle of the woods that didn't involve a bad joke, but all the explanations I could come up with were bad ones.
Quote from Kaqurei on May 18, 2023, 9:33 amThe first fifteen minutes had been fine. Twenty minutes, even. Thirty. The drive was enjoyable. Chapman's stories were humorous. And the man had a gift with segues, each story transitioned seamlessly into the next.
And he never ran out of them.
Ever.
After the first hour, it all started to run together, like a watercolor painting... Fascinating at first, but gradually just muddy.
And then he started nodding off. And he felt like a jerk. Glad Chapman never looked his way.
But his head had bobbed for two exhausting hours. Up, and down. Nod off, jump awake. Smile and offer polite murmurs. No, Bob, your stories aren't boring. Not boring at all. And they weren't. Mark just... Couldn't stay awake for all of them. Maybe it was Chapman's voice? Loud and energized as it was, it set him too much at ease as he went on and on. That, with the roar of the drive, the sights and sounds of the road, the foothills--it lulled him repeatedly into a slumber that was never fully realized.
He climbed out of the car and stretched his aching muscles. Tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
He had no idea why he was here. But after several months in a depressive funk, he was ready to be spontaneous. Live a little. Maybe that was Chapman's plan all along.
That didn't explain Val though.
Okay, Chapman, introduce me to your replacement at the station, get us drinks, get us talking, and sure enough by the end of the night I'd offer him therapy. Well played.
Then take a couple of grown men who barely know each other on an impromptu camping trip the next morning...?
Questions would go nowhere. He'd tried that already. Chapman was proving to be more elusive to pin down on anything than even his most guarded client.
Spontaneity, Mark. Why not go camping. Why not Val. Live a little, Mark. Live a little.
The first fifteen minutes had been fine. Twenty minutes, even. Thirty. The drive was enjoyable. Chapman's stories were humorous. And the man had a gift with segues, each story transitioned seamlessly into the next.
And he never ran out of them.
Ever.
After the first hour, it all started to run together, like a watercolor painting... Fascinating at first, but gradually just muddy.
And then he started nodding off. And he felt like a jerk. Glad Chapman never looked his way.
But his head had bobbed for two exhausting hours. Up, and down. Nod off, jump awake. Smile and offer polite murmurs. No, Bob, your stories aren't boring. Not boring at all. And they weren't. Mark just... Couldn't stay awake for all of them. Maybe it was Chapman's voice? Loud and energized as it was, it set him too much at ease as he went on and on. That, with the roar of the drive, the sights and sounds of the road, the foothills--it lulled him repeatedly into a slumber that was never fully realized.
He climbed out of the car and stretched his aching muscles. Tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
He had no idea why he was here. But after several months in a depressive funk, he was ready to be spontaneous. Live a little. Maybe that was Chapman's plan all along.
That didn't explain Val though.
Okay, Chapman, introduce me to your replacement at the station, get us drinks, get us talking, and sure enough by the end of the night I'd offer him therapy. Well played.
Then take a couple of grown men who barely know each other on an impromptu camping trip the next morning...?
Questions would go nowhere. He'd tried that already. Chapman was proving to be more elusive to pin down on anything than even his most guarded client.
Spontaneity, Mark. Why not go camping. Why not Val. Live a little, Mark. Live a little.
Quote from Adriana on May 18, 2023, 12:04 pmChapman got out of the truck with a groan and waved to Tara. "I was trying to outrun you, then I realized you brought that camper - did you really need that thing?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Uh, yeah. I'm not sleeping on rocks, Bob. Lucky you even got me to come out on the weekend." she smiled, but her eyebrows were narrowed.
Now she walked over to Val and Mark, extending her hand to Mark.
"Tara Randall." the woman smiled in earnest. "I do paperwork for Bob, and apparently, come out on impromptu camping trips."
She said the last part loudly, looking over Mark's shoulder as Bob unloaded gear from the bed of the truck.
"I brought the guys last time, I didn't want to leave you out." Chapman said in return, no need to raise his booming voice.
Chapman got out of the truck with a groan and waved to Tara. "I was trying to outrun you, then I realized you brought that camper - did you really need that thing?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Uh, yeah. I'm not sleeping on rocks, Bob. Lucky you even got me to come out on the weekend." she smiled, but her eyebrows were narrowed.
Now she walked over to Val and Mark, extending her hand to Mark.
"Tara Randall." the woman smiled in earnest. "I do paperwork for Bob, and apparently, come out on impromptu camping trips."
She said the last part loudly, looking over Mark's shoulder as Bob unloaded gear from the bed of the truck.
"I brought the guys last time, I didn't want to leave you out." Chapman said in return, no need to raise his booming voice.
Quote from Indy on May 18, 2023, 2:43 pmI regarded the exchange between Tara and Chapman in the hopes more might be revealed, but by all intents and purposes this felt like a corporate retreat. Tara didn’t seem worried. I didn’t know the woman well besides the one meeting, but I would guess Bob’s paperwork guru was more pragmatic.
Maybe this wouldn’t be terrible.
Maybe we were all hostages caught in the same intricate web made by the very nice spider.
But there was one thing more important than anything else. I turned to the woman, briefly nodding in acknowledgement, “Did you pack coffee?”
I regarded the exchange between Tara and Chapman in the hopes more might be revealed, but by all intents and purposes this felt like a corporate retreat. Tara didn’t seem worried. I didn’t know the woman well besides the one meeting, but I would guess Bob’s paperwork guru was more pragmatic.
Maybe this wouldn’t be terrible.
Maybe we were all hostages caught in the same intricate web made by the very nice spider.
But there was one thing more important than anything else. I turned to the woman, briefly nodding in acknowledgement, “Did you pack coffee?”
Quote from Kaqurei on May 18, 2023, 3:16 pmMark shook Tara's hand--that perfect, amiable, not-too-limp, not-too-tight friendly handshake that for some reason makes a person that much more trustworthy.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Mark. Mark Weston," he said.
Well, at least he wasn't the only one caught off guard--and agreed to go on--Chapman's random camping trip. He'd wondered if Val or Tara had more advance notice than he did. Now he didn't have to ask.
The cast of characters, though, was only that much more odd. A retired police chief, his replacement, the therapist, and the secretary. On a whim, they all head out into the woods for a weekend get away. It felt like the opener of some murder mystery indie film, put on by some college students. This was the part where everyone is charming, so that you care about them later on, when the body is found and dark secrets start to surface. Who was going to be the first to disappear after dark? It'd have to be him--the boring therapist nobody really knew--or Tara, just because she was a woman. Tropes be like that.
Mark shook Tara's hand--that perfect, amiable, not-too-limp, not-too-tight friendly handshake that for some reason makes a person that much more trustworthy.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Mark. Mark Weston," he said.
Well, at least he wasn't the only one caught off guard--and agreed to go on--Chapman's random camping trip. He'd wondered if Val or Tara had more advance notice than he did. Now he didn't have to ask.
The cast of characters, though, was only that much more odd. A retired police chief, his replacement, the therapist, and the secretary. On a whim, they all head out into the woods for a weekend get away. It felt like the opener of some murder mystery indie film, put on by some college students. This was the part where everyone is charming, so that you care about them later on, when the body is found and dark secrets start to surface. Who was going to be the first to disappear after dark? It'd have to be him--the boring therapist nobody really knew--or Tara, just because she was a woman. Tropes be like that.
Quote from Adriana on May 18, 2023, 6:06 pm"Nice to meet you Mark. I'm sorry you got roped into this." she laughed, then met Val's eyes. "I did, actually. It's in the trailer."
Bob grabbed a pack and handed it to Val.
"You're with me for now. They'll catch up." he said, hoisting on his own pack.
"Tara, Mark, we'll be up ahead on the trail. Packs and jackets are in the truck bed." Bob was already walking by the time he said this.
It was nearing sunset, the dark shadows of the pines covering the parking area. The weather was warmer than it had been in August, but it seemed the season was unusually temperamental; it could change on a dime.
"That's Bob speak for "we should hang back for a minute"." Tara said knowingly. "How do you know him, if you don't mind me asking?" she went over the truck and pulled out a pack, offering it to Mark, before climbing up onto the tailgate and working to french braid her frizzy hair, made worse by the recent humidity.
"Nice to meet you Mark. I'm sorry you got roped into this." she laughed, then met Val's eyes. "I did, actually. It's in the trailer."
Bob grabbed a pack and handed it to Val.
"You're with me for now. They'll catch up." he said, hoisting on his own pack.
"Tara, Mark, we'll be up ahead on the trail. Packs and jackets are in the truck bed." Bob was already walking by the time he said this.
It was nearing sunset, the dark shadows of the pines covering the parking area. The weather was warmer than it had been in August, but it seemed the season was unusually temperamental; it could change on a dime.
"That's Bob speak for "we should hang back for a minute"." Tara said knowingly. "How do you know him, if you don't mind me asking?" she went over the truck and pulled out a pack, offering it to Mark, before climbing up onto the tailgate and working to french braid her frizzy hair, made worse by the recent humidity.
Quote from Indy on May 18, 2023, 8:56 pmWas I surprised Chapman had singled me out ? Not really. I would have expected it sooner, but knowing Chapman it would have lacked his usual flare for drama.
I hoisted the pack over my shoulder and shuffled in ahead while Tara gave Mark the kindness of company and sanity.
Chapman no doubt had several questions and concerns based on the conversation he had with Mark this morning. From the shuffle of his step, I was trying to discern what temperament Chapman would take. I hoped it wasn’t more homey camping stories. No, he would be serious, probably. Would he take on the role of nagging father to his flippant progeny ? I tried to imagine it, dubious.
I settled on ‘philosophical rhetorical questions designed to make my head spin’. Once we were a good way ahead, all I could do was brace myself and find out if I was right.
Was I surprised Chapman had singled me out ? Not really. I would have expected it sooner, but knowing Chapman it would have lacked his usual flare for drama.
I hoisted the pack over my shoulder and shuffled in ahead while Tara gave Mark the kindness of company and sanity.
Chapman no doubt had several questions and concerns based on the conversation he had with Mark this morning. From the shuffle of his step, I was trying to discern what temperament Chapman would take. I hoped it wasn’t more homey camping stories. No, he would be serious, probably. Would he take on the role of nagging father to his flippant progeny ? I tried to imagine it, dubious.
I settled on ‘philosophical rhetorical questions designed to make my head spin’. Once we were a good way ahead, all I could do was brace myself and find out if I was right.
Quote from Adriana on May 19, 2023, 11:56 am"Well, you blew it, Val. We're gonna have to shoot him now." Bob shrugged, his steps never betraying any emotion one way or another. His voice was deadpan.
"Well, you blew it, Val. We're gonna have to shoot him now." Bob shrugged, his steps never betraying any emotion one way or another. His voice was deadpan.
Quote from Indy on May 19, 2023, 12:05 pmI guarded my expression at just the very last moment. Bob was very convincing when he wanted to be and for exactly half a second I believed him.
Then I remembered this was Bob, and he was reversing my own moves against me. Classic Bob.
I glanced briefly behind me, “So how bad did I do?”
I guarded my expression at just the very last moment. Bob was very convincing when he wanted to be and for exactly half a second I believed him.
Then I remembered this was Bob, and he was reversing my own moves against me. Classic Bob.
I glanced briefly behind me, “So how bad did I do?”
