Willow Mountain

Frost had settled along the edges of the window. Erin leaned back into her seat, the soft shaking and rumbling of the train making her tired. Her eyes were grazing over the snowy landscape they were speeding past. A mountainside, clad by pine trees. The cliffsides and trees were so packed with snow that the view outside almost seemed to be in greyscale – with only whites, greys and blacks distinguishable. If it weren’t for the brightly coloured cars and rooftops visible in the distance, Erin could have almost believed she was going colourblind.

Thick clouds and wispy steaks of mist hung around the treetops, and though the inside of the train was warm – She was getting cold just looking at it.

The train began losing speed, and a metallic voice sounded over the speaker system: “Next stop, Willow Mountain station. Willow Mountain station. Please gather your belongings and prepare to exit the train. Thank you for riding with us.”

Erin didn’t bring much. A backpack filled with a laptop, a charger and some necessities for her train ride – a wallet, a thermos filled with tea, some snacks and a book. She’d also brought a shoulder bag with some clothes, food and items she might be needing on her getaway.

Going away for a week – all by herself – was something she had been looking forward to. Finally having the time to read, taking a walk through the snow-white mountains, sitting in the cabin around the fireplace…

Though her homelife wasn’t something she needed to escape from per se, time away from the city seemed… healthy. Besides, her job as a middle school teacher could get a little draining – keeping track of a classroom filled with rowdy children could wear you down after a while.

Erin had thought about asking some of her friends to join her, or maybe visiting her sister in the countryside instead – but being alone for a week – truly on her own – also seemed like a challenge to her. She had joked with some friend about it being a sort of reset – spending seven days on herself instead of taking care of whoever needed her that day.

When the train came to a full stop at Willow Mountain station, she was happy to see it wasn’t snowing yet. The platform she got off on was small, and aside from a small coffee kiosk, there wasn’t really any activity or commerce to speak of. She had hoped for a small corner store, or maybe even a fast-food joint – but no, she would have to do with the meals she had taken with her – and maybe take the taxi to a supermarket at the end of the week.

The snow crunched beneath her boots, as she walked around the humble station building to find a small road leading into the mountain. She was happy to find her taxi already waiting for her. Weighed down by her bag, she lifted her arm a bit to signal that she was the one that booked it, and she could hear the engine turning on.

A driver stepped outside, and opened the trunk for her bags. “Hello there! Oh, no thank you, these are so small I can just put them on my lap” she said, smiling at the helpful man in front of her. After greeting her back and noticing that she wasn’t carrying a lot indeed, he shut the trunk again and stepped into the driver’s seat.

Pinecrest Drive 4B?’ he confirmed with her, and she nodded in agreement. “I’m Erin, by the way” she said, shaking his hand. “Terry”, he replied.

The taxi was noticeably larger than the cars she was accustomed to seeing in the city. Its secure and swift movements over the icy road probably meant it was equipped with snow-proof wheels.

“Have you been driving around these parts for long?” Erin asked, and the driver produced a big sigh, making Erin feel as if he wasn’t really one for small-talk. “Not that long. Four, maybe five years?” he answered, and Erin responded with a thoughtful hum.

As the car kept going, they went deeper and deeper into the woods, following a winding road up the mountain range. “Are you on a vacation?” She man returned her question after a few minutes of silence. “Yes” she answered, wondering if she would have called it that herself. “Well, more of a retreat” she added. He hummed and nodded.

Though there was a road navigation system installed in the car, and Erin could follow the roads they were taking, there was no specific route being planned or followed. “Do you know the roads by heart?” she asked. “Most of them, yeah” he replied. “This one as well?” she said, staring at the rolling fields of white and the thick snowy woods all around them.

“Yeah, the place gets booked every once in a while. Lots of tourists prefer taking a cab over driving here themselves.” Erin understood why, she herself would not have been comfortable driving here at all. Losing control of the car, a sudden snowstorm, steep cliffsides – the thought sent a shiver down her spine.

As the taxi followed a long winding road, a driveway and a small cabin came into view. It was made out of wood, the roof pointed and packed with snow. There was a small canopied porch that led to the front door, and a small path connecting the driveway to the porch stairs. The taxi slowly crept up the driveway, the snow chirping beneath the tires. When the car was neatly parked, the engine got turned off.

Erin thanked her driver and got out of the car, two bags in hand. She walked up the porch, and remembered the e-mail that confirmed her booking saying the key to the cabin was hidden in a birdhouse. She reached up into an old birdhouse nailed to the cabin wall, took out a key, and opened up the cabin – blissfully unaware of the events about to unfold.