The Mystery of Maple Creek

Chapter 12. The Paranoia Notion

Chapter 12

The Paranoia Notion

(Perspective: Hellen Mayweather)

In the afternoon, we went home together. My dad decided to close his fish market earlier. He said he wanted to watch a documentary about fishing and stuff on TV.

Meanwhile, I felt glad that we could get back home again. But I kept on thinking about the things that Sheriff Clarke had said on TV.

Was it true? Was it possible? I kept on asking myself about it. But the sheriff had not announced anything official yet, except for a little hint on the blood test result. So, I couldn’t assume to make it worse. At least we all knew that the cops had found Marion’s blood in the woods’ trail.

I was walking back and forth in the backyard. Then my eyes sometimes glanced at the faraway view between the trees.

The idea slightly came into my head. Our house here connected to the woods’ walking trail, which could lead to the wilderness. So, anyone who was in the woods could pass the trail over there. What if the shadow I saw this morning, was the real thing? What if a stranger came sneaking at me?

This house didn’t have a fence. Maybe this was the only house in town without a secure facility. We could only lock the doors and the windows. But of course, locking all the way wasn’t enough for protection.

I was just being so paranoid again. I couldn’t get my mind off the fear. But I remembered my grandma once said to me; the only thing you could do to fight the fear, was to face the fear itself.

I didn’t know what it took to fight the fear that I had. I feared his existence. I terrified when he was about to sway his blade into my skin. It was all a terrible nightmare.

My dad suddenly came to the doorsill. He shouted at me, “Hey, Hellen!”

I nodded as I approached him.

“I forgot my fishing tools, by the way. And I left them at the bridge port yesterday,” he told me while pinching his forehead. “I’m afraid if anyone may steal my stuff.”

“I thought this is a small town friendly, Dad,” I teased him. “No one is going to steal your stuff. Anyone will know, the tools are yours.”

Then he rolled his eyes and said, “You’ve never heard of the Donovan clan who lived by the woods?”

I shook my head and asked, “Who are they?”

“They are all the dumb kleptos. I’ve been here before, yeah, I know them well,” my dad muttered, but then his witty expression changed. His lips kind of pouted. “But at least, I’m glad they helped saving you that night.”

“Oh, so, the elders that you told me were—” I just remembered when Sheriff Clarke came to our house to interview me. He mentioned about the people he went with that night.

“Yes, the Donovan brothers told me, that night they wanted to start the fireworks in the hills with Sheriff Clarke. But then, they heard a girl screamed, which turned out, that was you,” my dad reminisced the nightmare for me. “They immediately carried you to the hospital. I was about to head home after the folks’ party, then I got the call from the sheriff.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have gone that night,” my voice was kind of breaking. “I didn’t want to make you worried about me—

“Well, I already am worried about you every time, Hellen,” my dad snapped at me. I bulged my eyes out. But then he continued telling me, “Don’t say sorry. You are my responsibility. I am your father. I am supposed to be worried all the time for my only girl.”

Then he came closer to hug me tightly. I closed my eyes to feel him caressing my head gently.

“I will always take care of you,” he whispered and kissed my forehead. “Don’t you ever feel that way. You are not a burden, Hellen.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I whispered back. “I love you.”

As he let go of me, he said again, “So, about my fishing tools. I have to go to look for them. They are my babies, you know—”

With the thought of him going to leave me here, I quickly felt uneasy.

“No, Dad! Let me come with you—” my voice sounded frustrated. I just lost my demeanor. He instantly looked at me weird. “I mean, I will help you to find them.”

“Well, I will be just quick to visit the port—”

I shook my head and immediately dragged him with me, “Please, Dad, come on!”

***

We walked to the bridge port. As we entered the storage room, the fishing tools box was still there.

But for a second, my dad looked anxious. His hands kept on searching for something inside the box. I stared wonderingly at him.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” I asked.

My dad let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t find my favorite baits here. It’s a collection of tiny rubber fish, about eight centimeters long.”

“Where you left them the last time?” I asked again, maybe I could help find it.

Then my dad stopped and glanced at me. He tried to remember it.

“Well, I guess, I probably left them in the fishing spot. I was there with Larry yesterday,” my dad told me.

I nodded to understand. “Let me take them for you. Where is the fishing spot?”

His head quickly nodded toward the window. Then he said, “There—across the river.”

I glanced to see the view. Another bridge was built by the edge of the woods.

“Okay, I’ll bring them to you. Don’t worry, Dad,” I assured him.

My dad raised from the floor and told me, “Alright, meet me in Larry’s market, yeah?”

I nodded. Then we separated our way.

I followed the trail until I got there. My eyes quickly looked out for the tiny baits, which my dad had described to me. And there, at the edge of the bridge, I finally found the small box.

When I was about to return to the port, I heard the sound of footsteps from afar. I glanced at the wild trees and shrubs in front of me. The more I approached the trail, the more I could feel the presence of someone else. Maybe somebody was walking in the woods.

I was curious. Who might be visiting the woods on this very hot afternoon? He could be an animal hunter. Or maybe the Donovan clan, who lived by the woods.

I sneaked behind the shrubs. My eyes carefully scanned the quiet surrounding. I only heard some birds chirping out there. But then, the footsteps sound was heard again.

When I glanced at the right side of the woods, I saw a man. I automatically held my breath. Before I would scream, my hand quickly covered my mouth.

I knew I didn’t see him wrong. I saw him on the night I almost died. He was the same person.

He still wore the same old clothes. And he never took off his weird gas mask. I wondered what he was up to these days. Was he trying to cover his tracks?

I was so terrified to see him again. I stood trembling. I couldn’t even move my body since I felt anxious about his presence.

But my eyes kept on watching him from behind the trees and shrubs. I was just curious about what he was doing in the woods after all this time. He was basically alone. Nobody was there with him.

I watched every moved he took. Until then, he suddenly stopped walking. He just stood still like a frozen statue in the middle of the desolate area.

He suddenly tried to take off his mask. I took a deep breath. I was so anxious waiting for him to reveal his face.

When he finally did, my eyes opened widely. I got tremendously bewildered by what I saw. Then I blinked my eyes a few times just to assure myself.

I just wished I never saw him taking off the mask. This could not be true.

He was still there. He was real. But his face—I just could not believe what I saw.

He possessed the same face as the person I thought I had a crush with. I had never imagined he had that pretty face. I didn’t know what was actually happening here.

I just wished he was not the person that I thought he was. I had never imagined him to dress like that, even to do the most terrible thing he once had done on that night.

I might start to think he was the same person.

Because he looked exactly like Noah Jarlath.