Shadow Falls

“Of all ghosts the ghosts of our old loves are the worst.”
– Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

 

I nearly ran the stop sign at the four way stop near my house. I’ve got to snap out of it! I’m going home to my wife, I need to focus. The undeniable memories of the last three sensual hours were distracting me. I needed to get my head in the game.

My wife of seven years, Carol, was already home by the time I arrived. Of course she was, it was nearly seven PM. Dinner should have been served by now. I told her I was working late. I actually took off an hour early. There were moments I summoned up enough emotion to feel guilty. But much more often I thought about how satisfying and fun sexually Ashley is.

I saw her Wedgewood tea cup and saucer on the dining room table. A sure sign that she had been patiently waiting for me. Carol loves to linger over a cup of tea and never quite finish it.

“Working late again?” Carol asked as she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I hope your boss and my brother appreciate your sacrifices.” She added.

I nearly pulled away, not exactly sure why. Perhaps I was concerned that some lingering aroma of Ashley was still present. Or more likely the thought of any type of physical interaction with Carol did little for me by comparison.

Don’t get me wrong, Carol is attractive in her own wholesome way. She has a broad smile with a pronounced gap between her two front teeth. I used to think that was cute. A pleasant face, shoulder length brown hair and bangs across her forehead. A decent figure, smallish breasts, fairly thin, she probably has put on five or maybe ten pounds since we’ve been married. Not fat. But perhaps the bikini would not fit quite as it once did.

Ashley is a different story. Curvy, fleshy, not fat, just soft, firm, and round in the right spots. She was also eleven years younger than my 33 years old. Carol is a year older than me. Ashley is a sexual athlete. I have never been with a woman like this before. I did not know sex could be so open and fun. And even beyond the sex I was beginning to really care for Ashley.

I thought of Ashley as I was part way up the stairs to change clothes for dinner. For a moment I became dizzy thinking of her intoxicating sexuality. I had to pause and re-grab the bannister. Come on Mark, I told myself, snap out of it. You’re married, the personal conversation continued in my head. You’ve got a great wife, a nice home and a solid career. Don’t screw this up. If only Carol were just somehow . . . gone, I’d be free to pursue Ashley in broad daylight without the judgement of others.

— — — — — — — — — —

I recalled the first time I met Ashley . . . . .

I’d scheduled a meeting with Julian Bannister, the CEO of Palavian Industries. My company offered machine shop services for specialty applications. Palavian was starting to use us. I wanted to reinforce the personal relationship and had invited Julian to lunch for today’s meeting.

That was the first time I met Ashley. She was Palavian’s receptionist. There she sat, long blond hair, a bit of cleavage visible, extending down to rounded breasts enclosed in a tight pink sweater. She saw my eyes drift and when I looked at her she smiled. She knew where the distraction lay.

“Um, it looks like Mr Bannister is out?” Ashley told me as she hung up the phone.

“Huh” I said to myself, but out loud, “we were scheduled to have lunch today.” I went on.

“Let me double check.” She said and got up to go into the inner offices.

I openly ogled her beautiful ass as she left. Wow, I could see why she was hired. A nice young attractive female receptionist certainly makes a good first impression to anyone entering the Palavian offices.

A moment later she returned. “Mr. Bannister had an emergency and had to leave. Roberta said to apologize and he will reschedule with you.” Ashley told me.

The whole time she was looking me straight in the eye, a hint of a smile on her lips.. Some type of unspoken challenge. It was as if she was saying, ‘can you keep your eyes on mine or will they drift to my body?’

“Well that’s too bad” I exclaimed. “I had reservations at Chambray.” I once again said out loud.

“I’m available,” Ashley said. “I’m Ashley” and she held out her hand to shake.

As she reached across her body to shake my hand her bicep pushed against the side of her right breast, pushing both breasts together. I couldn’t help but look this time. When my gaze finally elevated to eye level, I was met with another sly smile.

“Hi, I’m Mark Merritt,” I managed to get out.

“I know.” She said, maintaining that same smile.

Moments later we were going to lunch.

During lunch Ashley was fun and animated. She laughed at my stupid jokes and continued constant eye contact. Occasionally she would lean forward during the conversation, allowing larger glimpses of the magnificent cleavage. She was flirting and I was loving it.

I learned that Ashley was twenty two. She has worked at Palavian for four months. She went to a year of junior college but stopped going because she didn’t like school and needed to work. She told me she didn’t have a boyfriend at this time.

I told her early into the lunch that I was married. She just nodded as if it had no bearing on our lunch or any future friendship we may have. We just continued talking, no hesitation whatsoever.

All too soon the lunch was over. Kind of cutely she went through the motions of offering to pay her half. We both knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I appreciated the gesture.

As we walked to my car in the parking lot Ashley hugged my left arm, companionable at first but fairly quickly during the walk I felt her firm round breast making serious contact with my upper arm. It was exciting.

We continued to chat during the drive back to her office. I was really enjoying the conversation and I also enjoyed looking at Ashley, occasionally letting my eyes roam over her body. She didn’t seem put off by these stares, welcoming the attention. Signaling with her wider smiles that this was all okay.

We pulled up to the building and it almost felt like I should kiss her goodbye, but I didn’t. But there was that moment when we were eye to eye and our faces began to move closer, like a kiss. I stopped in the nick of time.

“Can I have your business card?” She asked.

I hesitated for just a moment. The magical lunch time bubble of intimacy had popped and we were ever so suddenly back in the real world. For a second I thought, what was I doing? Giving my contact information to this woman, girl really, who I’d just met?

“So I can pass it on to Roberta, just in case Mr. Bannister needs it.” She said.

This had just enough logic that I could justify giving this young sexy girl my contact information. I handed her my card.

“See you later.” I said as Ashley exited, only meaning goodbye.

“I think you will.” She replied half laughing with the constant sensually firm eye contact.

Wow! I thought after she was securely in her building. What was all that? I hadn’t felt like that since college. I had been openly flirting with this young, attractive, sexy female. There was a familiar buoyancy after the interaction. Familiar but this buoyancy hadn’t surfaced in me in quite some time.

Throughout the week my mind wandered to Ashley, I kept thinking about her. At night, as unfair as it was, I would compare her physically to Carol. Again, it wasn’t fair. I was seeing Carol, relaxed at home, no makeup, first thing in the morning waking up, sweaty from chores. Whereas the Ashley in my mind was dressed for work, makeup on, in a tight sweater, showing cleavage. It was not a fair comparison. But I continued to do it.

I was fully prepared to file away these mental images of Ashley forever, sort of like you would do with a sexy scene in a movie. Remembering it with pleasure with no action to be taken.

But a couple of things happened.

Thursday night I got home from work and Carol was on the phone. The length and solemnity of her end of the conversation got my attention. I sat, watched her, and overheard.

Turns out her mother was not feeling well and had some tests done for potential cancer screening. Her mom was a nice person, very private and somewhat fragile. Her father had passed away from heart disease right after we had married.

“Mom’s just had some tests done and she’s concerned. I think she’s a little depressed.” Carol told me.

“I need to drive up and see her this weekend.” She added. “Dan offered to go, but I think my Mom wants me.” She said.

Carol’s brother Dan, was the CFO of Eastside Ironworks, where I work. In fact it was through Dan I got the job at Eastside. It is a good job and pays well. I needed to keep it.

I nodded. “Would you like me to go?” I asked. I knew the answer would be no, but I felt obligated to ask anyway. I really would prefer not going in complete honesty.

“Oh Mark, thank you for offering,” she said. “You know how private Mom is. I better go on my own. I’ll miss hiking with you on Saturday.” She added. “I want to leave by noon on Friday, that way I can beat the rush hour traffic.”

I nodded and asked her more about what her mother had said as together we prepared our dinner.

For some reason, and I’m not exactly sure why, I thoroughly enjoy being in my own home alone. There is nothing that I do, that I wouldn’t do, if Carol were here normally. I just like being on my own.

So her being gone was no burden for me. In fact the opposite of that. I looked forward to her being gone.

Friday morning before work I helped Carol prepare for her visit with her mother, carrying her bags to the car. Later that day the second thing happened.

I was at my office and I received a text message.

‘Hey it’s Ashley, you know from lunch 😀! A couple of my friends and I are stopping at BlueWater after work for a drink. You should come!! It will be fun.’

Wow!! This hot young, sexy, big breasted girl asked me out for a drink!? I actually started getting an erection. My initial impulse was to tell her I’d meet her. Then I started thinking about it. You idiot, you’re married. Sure Carol was out of town, but you’re still married. All morning long an internal debate continued in my brain.

So far by Friday afternoon I had not replied to the text. I was out making sales calls and all of a sudden I saw an attractive young woman in a miniskirt walking on the sidewalk. No it wasn’t Ashley, or for that matter anyone I knew, it was just a good looking cute girl with a nice body. The sight of this woman stimulated me, kind of reminding me of my lunch with Ashley.

That did it, I set logic aside. I texted back to Ashley.

‘That sounds fun, I’ll be there by 5:30.’ I replied back to her.

At this point my heart started beating faster and my palms became sweaty. Oh my god! What was I doing, I asked myself? I was suddenly nervous, but excited too. I hadn’t felt like this since before Carol and I were married.

Then I began to rationalize. It’s just a drink. She knows I’m married. Maybe this can help me with the Palavian account. She’s a hot young girl, she’s not interested in some mid 30’s, average guy. And on and on the debate in my head continued. But I was committed to go, and I found myself excited by the idea.

BlueWater is a medium upscale bar with a decent restaurant. The bar was the scene. I got there a little early, feeling a mixture of nervous and slightly embarrassed. I wandered in, searching for Ashley.

As I was walking through the bar a cute young girl with short dark hair and tattoos on her arms, grabbed my forearm, surprising me.

“Are you Mark?” She asked.

“Um, yes.” I said hesitantly as I studied the girl trying to see if I recognized her, she knew my name.

“Ash,” She hollered to a group behind her. “I found him.” She shouted. She still had a hold of my arm.

At that, Ashley, in all her sexy glory, emerged from a crowd of younger people, smiled at me, grabbed my face and gave me a kiss. It was not quite on my lips but you couldn’t really say it was on my cheek either. One other thing about this kiss, it felt natural. Not in the least bit awkward.

“Hey!” She exclaimed with buoyant enthusiasm. “I am SO glad you came!” She told me and stared at me with a sexy smile.

“Let’s get you a drink.” She said.

She then grabbed my arm again and pushed forward toward the bar. Once again the firm round breast was obvious against my arm.

For a moment I looked around to make sure there was no one I knew here. It was a younger crowd and fortunately I recognized no one.

The evening played out, Ashley was near me all night. There were more than a few times her breasts brushed me, her hand touched my thigh or chest, or her round muscular ass bumped me. I was having fun and as time passed any thoughts of guilt were washed away by alcohol and tantalizing physical contact.

It must have been around ten o’clock when Ashley told me that she and her friends were going to a party near downtown.

“Mark, come with us.” She said, “It’s still early. I promise we’ll have a good time.” As she said this last statement once again the direct sexy eye contact. Unspoken sexual messages were being transmitted.

I knew that I needed to go home. As turned on as I was by young Ashley at least the semblance of good judgement won out. I begged off.

“Thanks Ashley,” I told her. “I’ve had a great time with you and your friends, but I need to leave.” I added.

We went back and forth, about it, her argument included 2 tit brushes and a clasping of my bicep. Finally she permitted me to exit but insisted on walking me to my car.

At the car I turned, faced her to say goodbye. I was expecting another quick cheek/lip kiss. Instead she threw both hands over my shoulder, clasped the back of my neck and pulled me in for a big, lip to lip kiss.

My brief hesitation did not slow her down. Her left hand continued to hold my neck while the right caressed my chest, slid down across my abdomen with the briefest of contact against my erection. She then grasped my ass and pulled me, groin to groin, directly to her and my erection pressed tightly against her clothed genitalia. For the briefest of instances we humped one another.

She released my lips and stared at me.

“You sure you need to go?” She laughingly asked.

I slumped against my car and just nodded. I stared at her, speechless as she turned and walked away.

“Call me tomorrow Mark, I’m home alone all weekend.” And with that she strutted off, high heels clacking across the concrete parking lot.

I just stood there for a few moments. Stunned, turned on, happy and confused. What the hell just happened, I asked myself?

All night I thought of Ashley. Barely dwelling on the ramifications this interlude may have on my marriage. I was captivated by Ashley. My lips and groin continued to tingle from the passionate parting in the parking lot.

I woke up with a painful erection and thoughts of the previous evening. What should I do? I wanted to call her, yet I knew it was wrong. This was the same debate I had about meeting her at BlueWater – but the stakes were now higher.

Finally at noon I called her. The phone rang and rang. I was on the brink of hanging up, and she answered.

“I was hoping you’d call.” She said, “I’ve been thinking about you.” She added.

I tried to be polite. Asking her about the rest of her evening, did she get home okay, how was the party, and other safe topics. She answered all my questions with amused impatience.

“I’m making dinner tonight and I want you to come over.” She stated.

Before I could even answer, she told me “be here at seven, and bring a bottle or two of red wine. We’re having pasta. I’ll text you my address.”

Before I could even confirm she had hung up. I knew she had a roommate, so I felt I was fairly safe, I rationalized.

All day I thought of Ashley. I thought of Carol too, and spoke to Carol during the course of the day. Obviously not a word to Carol about Ashley. Sounded like Carol’s mom was still a bit down and Carol told me she would not be home until Monday. I asked her to give her mom my best and then we hung up.

Seven sharp and I am at Ashley’s apartment with two bottles of red wine. She answered the door with a quick hug and a kiss. She led me in and asked me to open the wine. It was a small apartment with a large open kitchen-dining-living area.

“Where’s your roommate?” I called to her, from the other side of the room.

“Gone for the weekend with her boyfriend.” Ashley replied. Uh oh, one more obstacle removed, I thought.

“Shit!” I heard her curse from the kitchen.

“I spilled olive oil on these new pants.” She said, “If I don’t clean them now they’ll stain.” She added as she rushed down the hall to what must be the bedroom, brushing at the stain on her thigh.

Several moments later she emerged without the pants, but wearing an apron. I just stared. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders as if ‘you gotta do what you gotta do’.

“I had to clean them with spray and wash, the pants are brand new.” She explained. “Now no peeking!” She smiled and told me.

When she turned to go back in the kitchen, I thought she was completely bottomless. The two smooth round globes of her ass were all I saw. Then I saw the briefest of strings of a thong.

I couldn’t help it. Like a magnet I was pulled to her naked ass. The pent up sexual teasing I had endured was too much, and now seeing her nearly nude sent me over the top. I could not control myself.

I think I startled Ashley. I had moved quickly into the kitchen and began caressing the naked flesh of her ass.

“Mark,” she acted surprised. “What are you doing? I’m still making dinner.” She laughed.

I turned her around and started kissing her, my hands gripping the firm flesh of her bottom, grinding my groin into hers. The thin apron, a minor obstacle.

I grabbed her and lifted her up on the kitchen counter. I bunched the apron to her waist and pulled the thong bottom down until it was dangling off one of her high heels.

“Oh Mark!” She moaned as I explored her near bald, wet pussy.

By this time I was kissing her neck, one hand caressing her pussy while the other maneuvered to undo her bra and free the magnificent tits that I had ogled. Meanwhile her hands were caressing my head and neck and her vagina was rhythmically pulsing to my touch.

“Let’s get on the bed.” She whispered to me with a husky, lusty tone.

It took me a couple of moments to stop my actions. I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the counter.

In the bedroom we undressed each other. Once we were both nude. I stopped and just took a moment and stared. She was like a model from a men’s magazine. Full breasted, trim waist, long shapely legs and that small patch of furry hair trailing vertically up from her otherwise bald pussy.

“Give me a scarf.” I commanded.

Without questioning she reached into a drawer and pulled a long multicolored scarf out. She silently handed it to me. She continued staring right into my eyes, that half smile on her face, as if to say ‘not sure what you’re doing yet, but I’m all in’.

I wrapped the scarf around her head creating a blind fold. I then gently laid her on the bed. I began caressing her neck. The side of my hand brushing her erect nipples occasionally. I then moved down to her breasts, kneading the firm flesh and my mouth, with a will of its own found her nipples. Nibbling and sucking. Her back arched to welcome my ministrations.

Slowly my tongue trailed down her abdomen. The tip explored the sparse pubic hair and then drifted lower. For several minutes I outlined her vagina with the tip of my tongue. It was like playing the old game OPERATION. Whenever I got too close to certain sensitive spots there would be a reaction – just like the old game. Not the electronic buzz, but a moan.

I teased her like that for several minutes.

“Mark, PLEASE!” She begged.

Finally I focused on her engorged clitoris. She immediately climaxed and I kept going, and she did too. Finally it became too much for her.

She whipped off the blindfold, reached into her nightstand drawer and retrieved a condom. With practiced ease she bit the corner, removed it from the wrapping, and unrolled it onto my erect penis.

She then mounted me, her on top.

For the next few moments she redefined for me what sex was supposed to be like. Rhythmically she undulated over me. Her vaginal constrictions like small hands gripping and releasing. Those large shapely breasts hanging down swaying, this was unbelievable, like from a teenage fantasy. But it was real.

We continued like this for what seemed like quite some time, but likely was just several minutes.

Eventually she climaxed and I did too. But my erection felt like there was an electric current passing through it and it didn’t quite completely recede.

We lay on the bed and caressed each other, at first not specifically sexually. Me rubbing her neck, she massaging my chest. My hand drifted to her tits. Kneading and stroking the magnificent flesh. Her nipples soon responded.

Her hand slid down to my cock, still slightly engorged, and she began caressing.

It had been a few years since Carol and I had screwed twice in one night and I was unclear if I had the ability to do so. This will be interesting, I thought.

With my fondling her tits and she stroking my cock, I was soon erect again. This time I reached into the drawer to grab the condom. I made note of a couple of other interesting items in the same drawer also.

This time I started on top, her hands on my ass, urging, pushing and pulling. Round two I had extra stamina. I was hard and ready for a long fucking session.

I turned her over and began taking her from behind. Ashley seemed up for anything so I grabbed her dildo that I had seen in the drawer. I also grabbed the lube. While continuing to fuck her from behind I inserted a lubed finger in her ass. Her gasp exclaimed her sensitivity. I then maneuvered the dildo to her ass. With a little work I slid it in. My erection was still in her pussy.

She immediately orgasmed and collapsed flat on the bed. My erection slipped out of her pussy. But there she was, wide open, ass prominent, motionless on the bed. And I still had the erection.

Slowly and steadily I inserted my condom covered cock into her ass. There was a momentary unspoken hesitation from Ashley, but it was too late. I was in. She began an erratic panting as I plunged in and out of her ass. Her climactic scream put me over the top too. I erupted inside her and collapsed on top of her nude backside.

For several minutes we just lay like that. Exhausted and satisfied.

“Wow.” Ashley murmured. “When I first saw you I thought you’d be fun in bed. You did good.” She added.

I started laughing. For a couple of reasons. One, because I was happy she was satisfied. Two, because I was kind of proud of my sexual prowess. And finally that this sexy young thing had ‘rated’ me sexually and I was rated highly. For a moment I wondered how large a pool had I been graded against?

For the moment I was happy, but other thoughts began. Like clouds drifting in front of the sun, there was certainly bright sunlight shining through in places, but it was impossible to ignore the overcast horizon.

We eventually ate the delicious dinner Ashley had made. The conversation was fun, funny, and normal except for one thing. Throughout the entire evening, the getting to know one another, the discussions of our intimacy, the regular, normal conversation, not once was the subject of my wife mentioned. By either of us.

I declined her invitation to stay the night, I was tempted. I also thought, at this moment, this was not going to be a one off. I needed to see her again. Obviously the sex was out of this world. But I also found myself growing fond of Ashley the person. This was going to be a problem.

On Sunday I called Ashley and asked her out to lunch.

“I am so glad you called Mark.” Ashley told me. “I was hoping that it wasn’t just a one night stand.” She added.

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to assure it was more than a one night stand. But if it was more than a one night stand, what exactly was I doing? The thought that kept recurring was my desire to be free from Carol. But divorce was not something I could contemplate at the time. For several reasons.

Divorce would kill me financially. I would lose the house for sure. Before I had met Carol I had credit card debt. She financially nursed me out of it, and I was just getting on stable fiscal ground. I would lose everything and need to start over.

The other ramification was my job. Carol’s brother Dan was my contact that helped get me the job at Eastside. I loved the job, it paid well and the long term future was good at Eastside. Dan was the number two man at the company and Dan loved his sister.

It certainly is conceivable that a unilateral divorce coming from my end could cost me my job. No, I could not lose the job. If somehow Carol just vanished somehow this would solve my problems.

For a moment I mulled that idea over. Carol was kind, loving and devoted to me. We had discussed having children and I know she would be a great mother. My thoughts of her being gone were awful. How could I think like that? But quickly my hard wired memory of the night with Ashley eclipsed any thought of Carol or for that matter anything else.

“I’ll pick you up at noon.” I told Ashley. I was living in the moment with no long term plan.

As I drove to Ashley’s the logical part of my brain began to work. I needed to end this, this, affair, I guess you may call it. It was fun, very fun, but there was no way it would end well. Perhaps if Ashley and I had a sensible discussion about my situation this could end harmlessly. We may even stay friends, I told myself.

With a righteous plan to extricate myself from my infidelity, head held high I drove to Ashley’s. A clear resolve planned that made practical sense.

Within an hour she was giving me a blow job in the front seat of my car in the parking lot of John T. Weathers State Wayside.

I fully intended to have the practical discussion. As I walked to her door I was even rehearsing my logic. But then she opened the door wearing the low cut shirt. The sensual kiss in greeting. And finally the fondling of my cock as we were driving to lunch.

Like air from a released balloon my resolve quickly deflated. Next thing I knew we were in the parking lot at the wayside. My cock being sucked ever so masterfully.

Later that Sunday, driving home from Ashley’s, I once again tried to talk myself into leaving her alone. Just go about your life as if this entire weekend never happened. That was my plan at that moment. Carol would be home tomorrow and I would re-dedicate my life to her.

It may have been the moment I saw Carol that Monday after she returned from her Mom’s. No makeup, drab clothing, hair unwashed, the strain of worry aging her face. There was no way she could compare to the younger, exciting, sexy Ashley.

Once again my resolve evaporated. I called Ashley Tuesday and we made plans to meet.

We would go to her apartment, we would find a hidden spot outdoors and occasionally we would get a room at a motel. I had to be careful about that. That type of lodging created a paper trail. The sex, if possible, got even better. Ashley was free sexually. We would experiment with everything. I needed her now. I could not imagine living without Ashley and these sexual experiences.

Yes there were times that Ashley complained that we couldn’t go out together. She also wanted me to meet her friends. Do normal couple things. I patiently explained why that was not possible at this time. For the most part, she said she understood.

The relationship, for me, went beyond the sex. I was falling for her. I had even uttered ‘love’ to her several times. I began the dangerous practice of thinking of a long term life with Ashley. We spoke of the future together and though she never pushed me, she seemed open to the idea.

Of course the problem was, I was married.

— — — — — — — — — —

Back to that night when I was late coming home for dinner . . . .

Carol had made a delicious chicken and rice curry dish. She had even waited for me and we ate together at the kitchen table. I tried to focus on her but my mind continued to drift to Ashley.

She had just said something to me and I completely missed it.

“Earth to Mark,” She said with her gap toothed grin. “I said we should probably leave by nine tomorrow morning so we can hike all the way to the waterfall.” She added.

“Oh, okay,” I said, my brain recalling we had made plans to hike Saturday.

I had been hoping the weather would be bad and she wouldn’t want to go. I could then figure out a way to see Ashley. But no, it was going to be a clear, sunny, autumn day in the Pacific Northwest. Ideal conditions for the hike.

I did not sleep well that night. I thought of Ashley and longed to be with her. Carol bored me. She was doing nothing different than she had ever done, but now I was bored. There was no way the mundane life with Carol could compare to those exciting moments with Ashley.

I got up Saturday morning in a bad mood..

Carol was excited, looking forward to the hike to Shadow Falls. I was quiet and grouchy. She tried to be extra nice to me and I all but ignored her.

“Once you get out into nature, you’ll cheer up.” She said to me.

I just mumbled something unintelligible back.

She sat on the stairs and asked me a question.

“Do you think it’s going to be muddy on the trail?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” I grumbled. “Probably. I mean it rained two days ago.” I grouchily added.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll wear my newer shoes. I don’t want to get them dirty.” She said. “Do you think the old ones will be too slippery?” She asked and held up the shoes showing me the smooth worn down soles.

“Carol, Jesus!” I exclaimed. “The shoes are fine, now let’s get going.” I demanded.

I glanced at the kitchen table and saw her not quite empty tea cup sitting there. This bugged me too. Why can’t she finish the damn tea and rinse it out?

Even though I was acting like an asshole, Carol was still in a good mood. For some reason this pissed me off even more. I barely spoke as we drove east into the Columbia Gorge toward the trailhead to Shadow Falls.

“I hope we see the shadows at the waterfall today.” Carol cheerfully said to me, “The light could be right for it. Don’t you think?” She turned to me and asked.

There is an old legend that surrounds Shadow Falls. It was of Native American origin. The story goes like this:

‘A young man from the tribe had taken a bride, a young woman called Istas. The man’s brother wanted Istas also. One day the man returned to their home and found Istas gone. He was told that the brother and Istas had gone to the waterfall.

The man went to get his woman back from the jealous brother. He found them at the waterfall. The brothers argued and fought and the evil brother, using trickery, knocked the good brother to the ground and threw him over the cliff to his death.

In grief and ashamed of herself Istas threw herself over the same cliff. Istas and her man died together and the brother was shunned and banished from the tribe.’

The legend goes on to say that when the light is just right, shining onto the waterfall you can see the image of shadows moving behind the curtain of water. Supposedly the sunshine shining through the trees has to be at just the perfect angle, so it lands in the precise way against the falls. When this occurs the shadows are said to appear. These shadows are interpreted as the image of the two brothers fighting.

Some choose to believe in this type of mythology, others dismiss the phenomenon..

“Who knows if we’ll see anything. I’ve been up there a lot and I’ve never seen anything at the waterfall.” I told Carol, no mistaking my negativity.

I needed to adjust my mood, I told myself. I’m taking my frustrations out on Carol. She’s done nothing wrong. I’m the asshole I thought. I told myself I would try to set thoughts of Ashley aside for now and enjoy the magnificent beauty of the Columbia Gorge.

The Columbia River Gorge is a canyon of the Columbia River. The basalt cliffs create a deep river gorge up to 4,000 feet in places. The canyon stretches for over 80 miles as the Columbia River winds westward through the Cascade Range forming the boundary between the state of Washington to the north and Oregon to the south.

This spectacular natural area has numerous hiking trails, waterfalls, recreational paths, and scenic vistas. The Shadow Falls trail was deep within the magnificent gorge.

Fortunately we found a parking spot at the trailhead. After carefully locking the car we proceeded to the trail.

“I’m glad I brought my old shoes.” Carol told as she observed the mucky condition of the trail. “I hope it’s not slippery.” Carol added.

This particular trail starts as a series of switchbacks that gain altitude. The forest canopy on a sunny day, like today, produced shafts of sunlight that spotlit the different elements of nature along the forest floor.

As we climbed the switchbacks I mentally noted that my mind had stayed free of thoughts of Ashley for a prolonged period. I was proud of myself. But just that mental introduction of the subject of Ashley began an extensive sexual daydream about her. These sexual thoughts eclipsed any appreciation of the beauty that surrounded me.

Once again I began to think how much better my life would be with Ashley. But I still had Carol.

“Mark!” Carol called to me, awakening me from my vivid daydream. “You forgot to make your X!” She told me.

There was a large light colored rock at the top of the switchback. This signaled the more level part of the hike. We had a special ritual of picking up a smooth pebble from the ground and making an X on the large rock. We always wondered if we would see our X during our next hike to this area.

I had forgotten.

“Oh, yes,” I said. “I was just about to”. I told her.

Carol gave me an odd look, as if she didn’t quite believe me. She was right.

At this point the trail is fairly high up. The Forest Service had installed a heavy metal railing along the slippery trail. We could just start to hear the falls but not quite see them.

“Oh, I hope we get to see some shadows!” Carol enthusiastically said. She was excited.

As we passed the last bend we had an angle to view the falls across a vast open canyon area ending hundreds of feet below at Tilchis Creek. There was some sunshine angling towards the falls and a shaft of sunlight was shining on the right spot on the waterfall.

“Oh Mark!” She cried. “I think I see something.” Carol shouted. She bent forward over the rail to capture a better angle. She kept maneuvering to improve her sight line.

“Be careful.” I called to her, but she was focused on the waterfall.

It’s unclear as to what exactly occurred next. It was a combination of the slippery trail, the poor traction of the old shoes, and the enthusiasm to see the shadows, but she slipped. It happened quickly. She slid under the railing and at the last minute grabbed an exposed root.

“MARK!!” She screamed. She was dangling by one hand on the root, terrified.

I crouched down under the railing. “Give me your other hand.” I told her.

Frantically, she clutched my fingers then up to my wrist. At that moment I held her tightly. She went to release the root and grab a higher position to pull herself up toward the trail and for that instant the only thing holding her from falling was my grip.

Not exactly sure how my brain worked, but suddenly I found a solution to my problem.

I dropped her.

For the moment there was a questioning look on her face as if to say “why!”. And then as she plummeted the look on her face as she stared back at me was of utter sadness. She was soundless as she fell to her death.

I sat there with swirling feelings. Guilt, I will not soon forget the last look on her face. Sadness. Fear. More guilt, and finally I could not suppress the feeling building in me of happiness. Soon I will be with Ashley permanently I thought.

Then I asked myself, was it an accident? Did she really just slip? Maybe I wasn’t truly at fault. I was trying to talk myself into my own innocence. For a moment a wave of righteousness surged through me. But on a more honest inspection I knew none of this was true.

I had deliberately let her go.

I was stunned as I was kneeling on the muddy ground. Emotions jumbled. Not exactly sure how long I was like that, but I snapped out of it as I heard a group coming up the trail.

Quickly I prepared.

I took out my phone and dialed 911. No cell service.

I ran back down the trail, until I encountered the hikers I had heard.

“My wife . . . She slipped.” I told them. “She fell. I have to get to her. She went over the edge.” I stumbled down the trail, and one of the hikers went with me.

If I were to analyze my actions in retrospect, most of my behaviour was not an act. I truly was panicked and I wanted to try to, I guess help her, though obviously that wasn’t possible.

As we moved down the trail I kept mumbling “it’s my fault”.

The guy would pat me on the back and try to reassure me that whatever happened was an accident, and would say “don’t blame yourself”.

Only I knew how wrong his assurance of my innocence was.

Partway down the trail my companion found cell reception and called 911. By the time we were at the trailhead a county sheriff was there.

I sat in the back of the sheriff’s vehicle and provided information. The Forest Service was deployed to investigate at ground level. I guess that meant, find the body. The trailhead was taped off and they allowed no more hikers on the trail.

For the rest of the day I answered questions and sat while activity swirled around me. I would then get re-asked the same questions I had previously been asked. I wept throughout the day, and I truly was feeling sadness for Carol.

Perhaps not the deep sadness that most would feel. But I was sad. Every so often another disturbing emotion would bubble up. That was guilt. I may live with this feeling for quite some time I thought.

Eventually, hours later, the sheriff and the Forest Service released me. Her body had been found, identified from photos, thankfully, and was in the process of being retrieved.

I found myself driving home and feeling so odd. Emotional, guilty, and with a constant undercurrent of joy at the thought of being with Ashley.

I thought of all the people I needed to call once I got home. Carol’s ill mother, her brother Dan, who I worked with, her sister Janice in Denver, various close friends, and people at her work. Another thing I did during the drive home was get my story straight. By the time I was home I had almost convinced myself it had been an accident.

Almost.

The person I wanted to call, but could not, was Ashley. I wanted to tell her that things would be better. Better soon, but we needed to wait. Wait for the sake of appearances. My immediate future was going to be a future of grief. And a lot of my feelings of grief were sincere. I truly will miss a lot about Carol.

Over the next few days I called friends and relatives. I had some discussions with the authorities. I also had to work on the funeral. What I had not done was call Ashley yet. But I was getting to the point that I at least had to communicate with her. But for now I still needed to stay away.

For the first few nights my sleep was restless. So many emotions in my head, with guilt being the largest, followed not far behind by excitement, about the future with Ashley. Monday night I decided that I would call her on Tuesday.

When I finally talked to her, I asked if she had heard anything about me.

“You?” She asked. “No, I haven’t heard anything. About what?” She wanted to know.

I explained about Carol, the accident, and my short term situation as in regards to her and my relationship.

“Oh, wow Mark. I’m so sorry.” She said, “I heard about the lady falling off the cliff, I didn’t know who it was.” She added.

I cringed when she said “lady falling off the cliff”. It seemed like such a casual reference to this extreme tragedy.

“Ashley.” I said. “This is going to change our relationship.” I told her. “Eventually we are going to be able to be together, but you need to give me some time.”

“Oh, okay.” She replied. “Wow, that is so weird about what happened. I mean it’s really sad, but also really weird too.” She added.

I was a little puzzled by her reply. She didn’t seem quite as excited about the future of our relationship as I was. And she didn’t seem to be as empathetic as I would have expected someone to be. Maybe I was reading too much into the situation.

“Anyway,” I told her. “I’m going to be busy over the next week or so, but I’ll call you as soon as I can.” I pledged.

“Sounds good,” She said almost too casually.

We will work things out as soon as the time is right, I told myself. Meanwhile I had a lot to do. Another meeting with the sheriff. A walk through with the Forest Service. And the funeral.

I had been granted the week off by management at Eastside. I told them I would be able to go back to work next Monday, Dan, Carol’s brother, urged me to ease into things. I told him I appreciated it, but I needed to get my mind off the tragedy. He understood.

By nine PM I was exhausted. The restlessness I had experienced the first few nights seemed to be lifting. I was looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight.

Unfortunately that was not what happened.

I fell into a dead sleep almost immediately. Deep restful sleep, it had been an exhausting few days and somewhat troubled nights.

Just as suddenly, I was wide awake in my dark bedroom. What? What was it? Why was I suddenly awake – or more so, what had abruptly woken me?

I sat up, puzzled and a bit frightened. It was if someone, something, was in my bedroom. My fear escalated.

“Who’s there?” I called out. I could not discount the frightened tone I heard in my own voice.

No reply, but was there a soft shuffling deep within the corners of the bedroom? I wasn’t sure.

With fear and apprehension I turned on the bedside lamp. I was afraid of what I might see. Heart racing I examined the room, my head pivoting across the familiar landscape.

Nothing.

I sat staring for more than an hour, the lamp still on. Eventually I dozed back to sleep. Not a restful sleep. I woke with a start, troubled by the strange night.

I got up and used the bathroom. Walking back into the bedroom I noticed a smell.

Fecund, loamy, an earthy odor, as if the window had been open during a rainstorm and the moist ground had emanated the room. Almost like the smell and taste of nature, but slightly off.

Mixed within the natural earthy odor was an undercurrent of something spoiled. Not of rotting leaves, more carnal, as if something had gone bad. Not overpowering, but definitely there.

I examined the room. One of the windows was part way open. Could this be it? Could the outside odors have permeated the room? Doubtful, this hadn’t happened before.

One thing was odd. The upholstered green plaid chair that sat in the corner was slightly damp. I touched the cushion and then rubbed my fingers. Not damp like water, but something more viscous. Just a damp sheen. Very odd.

I shrugged it off. My nerves were fragile during the ordeal of the week. I had a list of things I needed to get done today. Soon the bizarre night of interrupted sleep drifted away within my thoughts and lists of the day..

I even found some time to call Ashley.

“Ashley,” I said. “How are you holding up? Can you be patient with me? Just a little while longer and then we can be together.” I told her.

“Oh sure Mark.” She said, “Things are good and I’ve been busy.” She told me

“Well don’t get too busy.” I told her. “Just give me a little time, Ash.” I added.

She just laughed. We talked a little longer and eventually I disengaged. I was still a bit troubled by the casualness of her comments. I’m sure once we are together things will be different for us.

It was another busy day. More contact with the sheriff’s office, decisions at the crematorium and a meeting at the bank to change forms. I needed to bring the death certificate in as soon as it became available. I was disentangling Carol from my life. Sad, but I was optimistic for the future.

There were becoming moments when my underlying guilt seemed to completely recede.

I finally had a decent night’s sleep. I was apprehensive about going to sleep. The experience of the other night made me anxious but the sheer exhaustion from the stress of the day allowed a deep uninterrupted night of slumber.

I felt better the next morning and powered through my list of to do’s and phone calls to return. By noon there was a feeling of accomplishment. I decided to drive by Ashley’s office and see if by chance I could just catch a glimpse of her, maybe a quick hello.

At first I just saw a steady stream of people heading out during the noon hour, no initial sight of Ashley. But then, I saw the flash of blond hair exiting the building and striding across the sidewalk. A smile spread across my face. I thought I would just pull the car up next to her and say hi.

Before I had a chance a black BMW a few cars ahead of me stopped and Ashley jumped in the passenger seat. I couldn’t see who was driving through the dark tinted windows of the BMW.

Hmmm, I thought. I felt a momentary disappointment of not seeing Ashley when she was so close, but it was probably for the best that I keep a low profile in public around her. At least for now.

Later that day I swung by the offices of Eastside Ironworks. I spent some minutes receiving greetings of sympathy from fellow employees. I spoke to Dan about the planned gathering this weekend to celebrate Carol’s life. Eventually I grabbed my files for the coming week and left.

Mid afternoon I called Ashley. We chatted for a few minutes and she seemed normal, glad to hear from me. I had a plan. I wanted to see her Saturday night. I wanted to meet her near her apartment and then we would drive to my house. We would drive directly into the garage, power the garage door down, and then we would spend the evening together, shades down and lights off.

“So you want to meet me where?” She asked, sounding slightly confused.

“Ashley, for now we need to be cautious.” I told her. “I’ll meet you at the Shop N Go right around the corner from your place at six PM. I can’t wait to see you.” I added.

“Okay?” She said, as if she didn’t quite understand.

Once I hung up I took a deep breath. I was glad that I could finally be with her. I began to contemplate what would be an acceptable time frame before I could publicly acknowledge that I was dating her. Two months? Could I wait that long? Is that too quick? For now I was content with the knowledge that I would see her tomorrow.

That night the memories of the frightful night earlier in the week were gone. I slept fairly well. I had brief recollections of some unsettling dreams that I could not quite identify in the morning. Nothing specific.

When I went downstairs to the kitchen, something seemed odd. It was the feel and smell of a house after a door or window had been left open all night. A pocket of cooler air it felt like. An odor of the outdoors. The internal atmosphere of a home commingled with that of the outside. Odd.

I checked and there were no windows open and both exterior doors were securely locked. And then I saw the throw rug by the door to the backyard. I could see the image of two partial footprints on the rug. The footprints were small, smaller than mine.

I bent down to touch the impressions and they were just everso damp. Huh!? No one had been in the house. The doors are locked and deadbolted. I shook my head, just one of life’s little mysteries I thought. I tried to ignore the strangeness of the morning and almost succeeded in doing so.

I picked up Ashley at the Stop N Go near her apartment and drove to my house just as I had planned. Ashley looked around my house, checking things out, curious about certain things.

I had spent most of the day cleaning up. Cleaning for two reasons. I certainly wanted to make sure that Ashley had a positive first impression. Also I knew I was going to be hosting friends and family in celebration of Carol on Sunday.

The sex with Ashley was fantastic as usual. She was athletic and experimental. We tried different positions and we both orgasmed multiple times. Any thoughts of guilt, odd happenings within the house, or worries about the future were washed away. Laying in my bed, my arm around her lightly fondling her breast, I was content.

About midnight I told her I needed to take her home. I think she wanted to stay, but I had a big day tomorrow. If our relationship even was suspected by friends or family there could be severe complications for my life.

Finally back home alone I went to sleep content that my life was moving in the right direction.

It was not the abrupt wakening of that first night. It was different. I was half in a dream and half awakened. There was a noise, a strange noise, familiar but strange also. What was it?

Slowly I came fully awake and sat up in bed, my head cocked to the side trying to distinguish what I was hearing and where it was coming from.

Finally I recognized what it was. It was crying. A muffled constant weeping sound and it was coming from somewhere within my house. Suddenly I was frightened.

I turned on the bedside lamp. Nothing in the room, but the noise was somewhere else in the house. I got up and retrieved the flashlight out of the drawer. Afraid, I moved into the hall. I couldn’t pinpoint where the sound was coming from, but as I moved down the hall to the stairs the odor was back.

It was the smell of that first night. The fecund odor of the outdoors mixed with the undercurrent of rotten meat. I also felt cooler pockets of air in the house, as if a window was open. I shivered.

When I got to the main floor the sound of the crying was gone, but it was much cooler. I checked the living room and the kitchen. Nothing. The front door was locked and the garage door was also locked, but I was stunned when I entered the den.

The door to the backyard was wide open. The bad, mixed odor was quite strong in this room. I was positive I had locked this door. Could someone be in the house? Now my fear heightened.

I closed, locked and deadbolted the back door. I went to the hall closet and got out my old softball bat, for protection. Slowly I searched the house, for what? An intruder? Right now, I would welcome an intruder. At least I’d have an explanation of all these strange happenings.

I found nothing.

There was no way I was going back to sleep. I was exhausted, anxious and frightened all rolled into one.

I thought about what I had experienced. First was the crying noise that woke me. I know I didn’t imagine that because I heard it as I was walking upstairs. Furthermore the odd, sad, weeping sound I could still vividly recall. And then the backdoor. I was 98% sure I had locked it.

I was frightened in my own house. My sleep was disturbed and it felt as if some other entity was inhabiting my home. Something beyond my ability to comprehend was happening. My lone strategy was to hope it stopped soon.

The reception for Carol brought out a mixture of feelings. I truly was sad and missed a lot about Carol. I continually had to compartmentalize my guilt at my actions on the hike. I did become emotional several times during the day. My sadness and guilt commingled to create a sufficiently somber persona that was actually appropriate for the occasion..

Mercifully it was over by late afternoon. Tomorrow I was back at work. Fortunately no unexplained noises that night.

This is kind of bad to say but there was another upside to Carol’s death, beyond my future with Ashley. I got sympathy sales. My business was up. Most people in the business community I was involved with knew what had happened.

I even got a call back from Julian Bannister, the CEO of Palavian Industries. Where Ashley worked. We now had a lunch meeting set for a week from Wednesday. I would not only get to pursue my proposal with Palavian, I would get to see Ashley.

The routine of work occupied me for most of the week. Everyone was nice and solicitous to me, conscious of my grieving situation. I spoke to Ashley every couple of days or so. We made clandestine plans for the coming weekend, though she said it would have to be Friday, she was busy Saturday.

As curious as I was to why she was unavailable Saturday, I didn’t ask. I really didn’t have the right at this time to become possessive of her time. Yet. And I knew our feelings were strong for one another. I was fairly sure.

My house was another matter altogether. No unexplained noises or mysterious opened doors this week, but the odd odors and atmospheric changes within the house became a little more permanent. I tried air freshener, I tried opening the windows, I even had the fans going with the doors open. Nothing worked.

I began to get used to it.

Friday evening was the same drill as last Saturday. I was to meet Ashley at the convenience store and head to my house, directly to the garage.

This time when I got to the store, Ashley wasn’t there. After 10 minutes I texted her.

“Where are you?” Was my message.

“On my way, two minutes.” She replied.

It was more like ten minutes by the time she got there. I was a little perturbed and she could tell.

“Sorry I was late.” She told me as she slid in the front seat. “I met some friends after work for a drink and lost track of what time it was.” She added with a big smile.

When I didn’t smile back or even reply I think she then realized I wasn’t happy.

“Mark, I’m sorry!” She said, “Maybe I can make it up to you.” She added.

And with that she reached over, undid my zipper, and pulled my rapidly swelling penis out of my pants. She engulfed me. Her mouth sucking and sliding my manhood in and out.

I slowed way down so we didn’t get in a wreck. I nearly made it all the way to my house, but her sucking and stroking became too much and I ejaculated just as we turned into the apron of my driveway. We nearly collided with the corner of the garage.

Any lingering thought of her being late was extinguished. My mood was rejuvenated.

As we entered the house, Ashley stopped, and sniffed the air.

“Do you have a dog?” She asked me.

I told her I didn’t, but maybe something in the refrigerator had gotten old.

“Maybe.” She replied, not quite believing that was the source of the odor.

“Do you have something you can spray in here?” She asked.

Later I took her home and reflected that though it had been a sexually satisfying evening as was usual with Ashley, some of our interpersonal connection was missing. Something seemed off. I know I was on edge because of all the unexplained happenings at my home. But it also felt like Ashley wasn’t quite into things as she had been previously.

I had to think about that.

I fell asleep with these thoughts on my mind. And then something woke me. A noise, in the house, no, in my bedroom I heard a noise. A shuffle, the bumping of a wall. A normal sound you may hear when other people are in a house. An explainable sound. But I was alone in my house. There shouldn’t be these types of noises.

Slowly I looked around in the dark room. I was too frightened to turn on the lights. There was some ambient light coming from the windows so the room wasn’t pitch black, I was able to make out gray shapes in the room.

I lay quietly in my bed, petrified, slowly examining the room for an intruder, a source of the noises that woke me. And then another sound, some type of creaking from the far corner. I squinted my eyes to look into that dark spot in the room, and . . . . . it looked as if someone was sitting in the green plaid chair.

My heart was pounding. Was someone over there? I stared and I could see the outline of what looked like a head. And though it was impossible to tell I had the distinct feeling that whatever was there was staring at me! Another noise and what looked like some movement from the silhouette.

Slowly and quietly I reached up to turn on the bedside light. Staring at the shadow in the corner I switched on the light. For that first moment the bright light blinded my vision as I stared into that corner, but I saw something. In an instant my vision cleared and the corner was empty. There was nothing sitting in that green plaid chair. But I had seen something and I didn’t want to think about what I thought I may have seen.

Heart pounding, in a cold sweat, I bolted from the room. I went downstairs to the living room. I retrieved my softball bat from the closet. I turned all the living room lights on. Wrapped in my blanket wide awake I sat, shivering, nerves on edge. I would not sleep again tonight.

I replayed the events of the night over and over. Had it been a dream? No, I had been awake as I am now. No way it was a dream. First there were the noises in the bedroom. I thought about the noises. Houses settle and make sounds all the time. Even as I tried to talk myself into that, I knew these had been more active noises. As if someone had made them.

And then there was the human outline sitting in the chair. Also, the feeling that whatever was in that corner, was looking at me. And finally that vivid, instant sight as my eyes were transitioning from the dark to light. I saw something at that moment. I didn’t want to think about it, but I had to.

I saw Carol in that corner staring at me. Staring at me with the same expression of sadness on her face as she’d had when she’d fallen over the trail edge. Where I had dropped her.

I continued to sit there in the brightly lit room in the middle of the night. I felt ill. I was exhausted but also anxious. The cold sweat dampened my pajamas. I shivered and wondered what was happening.

For the rest of the weekend I wandered around the house without purpose. I showered and shaved but the haunted expression that looked back at me from the mirror heightened my anxiety. My eyes look sunken, my brow worried. I had no appetite.

Throughout that weekend I didn’t really sleep. I was too frightened. I would nod off for forty five minutes or so and then jolt awake, afraid, but that was it. I didn’t have the energy to mow the lawn or work outside. I was exhausted but I was too afraid to sleep.

There were no more sounds or sights during the weekend but the odor was back. Back in full force. The rotten part of the smell was getting worse. I tried all the same tactics to eliminate the smell. Nothing worked.

Finally Sunday night I got a little sleep. No nighttime interruptions, but I dreamt of Carol. In my dream she was far away telling me something. I couldn’t hear what she was saying but for whatever reason I knew it was important. I needed to hear her message. I would try to move toward her but as I moved forward she would drift farther away.

Monday morning I woke up nervous again after the restless sleep.

During the week work was actually a positive distraction from the anxiety I experienced at home. I must have been showing the effects of my anxiousness. People looked at me with concern. My brother in law, Dan, even suggested I take some more time off. They were interpreting my unsettled appearance as grief.

Wednesday I had the lunch meeting with Julian Bannister. That morning I finished my presentation for Palavian. It was the most I had been able to concentrate all week. I actually felt like something approaching normal when I went to meet him.

Ashley, sexy as ever, was at her desk when I entered the Palavian offices. She was professional, but also had that knowing sexy smile on her face when I asked for Mr. Bannister.

“Roberta will be right out to meet you.” Ashley professionally told me. And under her breath, nearly a whisper. “Mark, are you feeling okay?”

I guess my appearance was still a little off.

I hadn’t spoken to Ashley since Friday night, well I guess technically it has been Saturday morning when I had taken her home. She didn’t seem unhappy or upset by this. She was normal.

Roberta, Bannister’s EA, came out to meet me and usher me back to the offices. For a half hour we reviewed my proposal for Palavian. And for the first time in days my mind was off my anxiety and the strange happenings at my house.

Bannister seemed interested and we continued to talk about business as we exited the Palavian offices. At street level we walked to the parking lot. We were going to dine at the prestigious Portland Club where Julian was a member.

As we walked I noticed Ashley fifty feet or so ahead of us on the sidewalk in front of the building. I enjoyed watching her. Just then a black BMW pulled up and she got in the passenger seat. I had the briefest of glimpses of a smiling dark haired man wearing sunglasses in the driver’s seat.

It looked like the same BMW I had seen her get in last week. Huh?

The meeting with Julian Bannister actually went quite well. He had pledged to give us some of their business and depending on how we performed, it could be much more. This could develop into some great new business for Eastside.

We departed on the street in front of the office so I was not able to see Ashley again in this business environment. I thought that I needed to call her later.

That evening, I actually felt better than I had in quite a few days. I summoned the energy to go for a run after work. I rewarded myself with a couple of beers. Later that night, physically tired, but with a feeling of accomplishment I slept in my own bed.

Was I dreaming? I think I was. In the dream Carol is sitting in our room on the green chair. She was asking me about the day we hiked to Shadow Falls. She asked me why I let go. Her voice was etched with sadness.

“Carol,” I told her, in the dream. “My hand slipped.”

“Mark,” she answered. “Please don’t lie to me. I know you let go on purpose. I saw it in your eyes. You need to tell me why.” She said to me.

“I’m sorry.” I told her. “I miss you. I’m sorry.” I was now softly weeping in my dream.

With that, the dream faded away. In the dream, when I told her I missed her, she didn’t accuse me of lying about that statement. I realized I really did miss her.

I woke early, the dream vivid in my memory. It did not evaporate the way most dreams do. The content stayed strong. And the odor was back. Strong in the bedroom. I went to examine the chair, there was the same dampness on the chair that I had found once before. This was all so weird.

I was startled, jumpy, anxious again as I prepared for the day. When I saw my face in the mirror, I did not look good. I needed to do something to try to find a normal existence. Things could not continue like this.

I powered through the day and forced myself to run again after work. I was exhausted, but anxious. What would happen tonight I wondered?

What was strange was that now that Carol was gone I began to see how much I truly missed her. In an odd way, as frightening as it was, I hoped her spirit would be back tonight so I could try to communicate with her.

Things did not go well that night. I drifted off to sleep physically and emotionally exhausted, but anxious and fearful too.

This time a loud thump in my room startled me awake.

“Huh, what?” I half screamed.

Something was in the room but I could tell it wasn’t Carol. The odor was mostly the rotting smell and the image was large and dark, much larger than Carol. Darker than the gray normal shapes within the bedroom. I sensed something evil about this apparition. It moved closer to me, the stench getting stronger. I was petrified, I wanted to turn on the light but I couldn’t move. I closed my eyes and wished this evil entity was gone.

I don’t know how long I lay there unable to move. Many minutes, possibly more than an hour later, I was able to make my hand go to the table lamp and turn it on. Nothing in the room. The smell was bad, but not as bad as when I was first awakened.

Slowly and nervously, my blanket around my shoulder, I crept down the stairs. I retrieved the bat and checked the doors. I turned on all the lights. Everything seemed normal. Walking through the kitchen I almost passed right over it. It seemed so normal sitting there. I’d seen it a hundred times. But there was no explanation for what I saw. This was impossible.

This one I could not blame on a dream, a hallucination, or something I forgot. Someone or something had been in my home. On the kitchen counter sat Carol’s Wedgewood tea cup and saucer. The typical ounce or so of tea, still in the bottom of the cup. I dipped my finger in and touched it. Not hot, but warmer than room temperature for sure.

Whatever had made the tea, had made it fairly recently.

Suddenly I was unbelievably tired. My brain had tried to somehow find logic in what I had seen. It was not logical. There was no logic to be found. Finally, my mind exhausted, fatigue crashed over me. I stumbled to the living room and lay down on the couch. Lights ablaze throughout the entire house, I fell dead asleep.

It wasn’t quite a dream, but more like someone was talking to me, whispering instructions, as I slept. I couldn’t tell who it was, but I knew it wasn’t Carol. It was something else. I received a message through the experience. This message had a clear direction for me. I felt I would never be released from this haunting unless I followed the path that had been communicated to me. I now had a plan.

When I woke, much of the anxiety that plagued me these last few weeks was gone. My fear was also greatly diminished. I still felt the guilt, but I was going to make that right too. I needed to show my remorse, and through the message in my dream, I now knew how.

I called Ashley that morning and asked for her to accompany me on Saturday.

“Mark.” She said, “That’s really not my thing, I’m more of a city girl.” She told me.

“Ashley, you’ll be fine. The weather will be cool, but it should be dry.” I said to her. “It’s important that you are with me.” I added.

She protested a bit more.

“Ashley, I need you to be with me and we need to do this.” I told her with a finality.

“Okay, fine.” She agreed. “What time, and what do I need to bring?” She asked.

Ashley was not ready when I got to her place. It was nearly noon by the time we were heading east on highway 84 towards the Columbia Gorge. I was quiet and determined to follow through on the instructions I had received as I slept that night. I needed to show my remorse. And I needed to go to the spot where I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

It was early afternoon by the time we parked at the trailhead. Oddly, there were few cars on this brisk, but dry day. Ashley seemed reluctant. I explained the beauty of Shadow Falls and that I needed her with me to get closure.

I’m pretty sure she had no idea what I was talking about.

“Mark, my shoes are getting dirty,” she complained.

I just patiently nodded.

“I’m tired.” She whined.

We hadn’t gone a quarter of a mile and we were nowhere near the steeper parts of the trail. Ashley was turning into a pain in the ass. She continued to bitch. Now she thought that she was getting a blister.

It was slow going with Ashley. She needed a break to rest. She wanted to stop for a drink. A pebble had gotten in her shoe and she needed to sit down to take it out. And on and on.

Carol and I normally completed the switchbacks in about an hour on a good day. With Ashley it would take more than two hours until we got to the high trail.

If my instructions had not been so definite I would have left Ashley to wait at the top of the switchback trail, but I needed to bring her. That was part of the whispered message. She was reluctant, complaining the entire time and completely unappreciative of the beauty of nature that surrounded her.

One thing I had to warn her about were the roots. The towering evergreens had a surface root system that protruded from the ground. You had to continually and carefully watch where you were going so you would not trip on the exposed roots. I explained to Ashley it’s best to step on the roots to avoid stumbling. When Carol and I had hiked, it was like second nature, navigating these familiar obstacles along the trail.

With Ashley, it didn’t help. She moved slowly with her constant complaints about the entire experience.

So far we had seen few people on the trail, and everyone we had passed was heading back down the trail towards the trailhead. The weather had turned funny too. It wasn’t raining but the sky was changing color. The temperature was dropping.

I thought about the whispered message from that night. As I say, it wasn’t like a dream, because there was no activity. Nothing happened. There was just this message quietly but firmly delivered. It was very succinct and direct. And unlike a dream the words I heard did not fade away. I had no doubt of what I was supposed to do.

My mission was to go to the place where I had last been with Carol. Alive. The scene of the accident. I needed to go there with Ashley, the source of my ultimate betrayal. I had to beg forgiveness from Carol. I had to tell her why I did what I had done. And I needed to do that with Ashley as my witness.

I understood that this may likely end my relationship with Ashley, but my hope was I would be forgiven by Carol. I did not know if I would get that forgiveness, but I had to try. I needed to repent my errors, my mistakes, my sins. And I had to do it in the place where, if anywhere, I may find a communion with Carol.

These had been my whispered instructions.

It wasn’t near sunset but the sky had taken on a hazy yellowish glow. The forest was dark with little sunlight penetrating the canopy. The amber tone of the sky glowed muted across the horizon. Shadows were long and deep. And as we continued along the trail throughout the afternoon the gloom seemed to increase.

We heard the waterfall first, it seemed to be the only sound in the forest that late afternoon. For some reason I began to get anxious, nervous. I was replaying the experience when I dropped Carol. Even though the air temperature was cool, I felt a cold sweat on my face. I may soon be facing Carol.

As we moved ever closer to that terrible spot I began to think of Carol. Carol was so kind and loyal, she was the perfect wife, I reflected. What had drawn me to Ashley? Well obviously the sex, but I was beginning to see what a shallow person she was, particularly as she compared to Carol. Carol always tried to do the right thing. She had so much honesty and good will.

I began to think of the good times Carol and I had together. The great long talks. Our discussions on life, our goals for our lives. Some of the funny moments we shared together. If only I could turn back the hands of time. With tears silently streaming down my cheeks I realized how deeply I missed Carol.

We came around the final bend and there at an angle off to the right was Shadow Falls.

There was sunlight on the water, that strange muted light we had been experiencing all afternoon. I stared at the waterfall and noticed the odd movement of shadows behind that curtain of water. Just like in the legend there seemed to be the shadow of bodies behind the falls. I stared, transfixed.

As I watched the curious interplay of light up ahead further on the trail, beyond where Carol had slipped I saw something. I was unclear what it was at first, but as I watched it seemed like the faint image of Carol began to appear dressed in the same clothes I had last seen her in. This image was standing ahead of me on the trail, arms open, silently beckoning me.

In a daze I moved forward, my eyes completely focused on the image. At this point any thoughts of Ashley were completely gone. It was Carol, and I needed to apologize and tell her how sorry I was.

I began to move quickly. I needed to be near her. Staring at her image and moving fast on the trail was a mistake. The last thing I remembered was the toe of my boot catching a large tree root and launching forward. And then blackness.

— — — — — — — — — —

Ashley looked over the edge and saw Mark unmoving on the flat shelf of rock about five feet below the level of the trail. She had seen him trip and stumble.

‘What the fuck am I supposed to do about him now’ she thought. She called out his name several times. He wasn’t moving. ‘I hope he’s not dead’ she thought off handedly.’ She glanced around hoping for some kind of assistance.

Ashley stood there for a few minutes staring down. She had absolutely no experience or skill in this type of situation whatsoever . She checked her phone. No service bars at all.

It was no more than five minutes before Ashley thought, ‘I’m getting out of here and I’m never coming back. I just hope I can find the way back down’.

Partway down the trail she found that she had cell service. She made a single phone call.

The going was rough for Ashley in the darkening forest. She was cold, hungry and felt dirty. Worst of all she may have ruined a nearly new pair of exercise shoes. They had cost almost a hundred dollars and now after this day in the woods they were trashed. More than anything, the loss of the shoes bothered Ashley.

Finally, she made the trailhead. ‘Well at least something went right today’ Ashley thought.

Just as she set foot on the gravel parking lot a shiny black BMW pulled up next to her.

“Thank god you’re here”. She said to the driver as she climbed in.

The BMW quickly exited the parking area, hit the on-ramp, and was soon heading west on interstate 84.

— — — — — — — — — —

Huh? Ouch, I was in pain in multiple places. I was confused. I wondered what was going on? My head hurt, my left knee hurt and I was cold. Where was I? How did I get here? Slowly, after several minutes my memory started to return. The last thing I saw was . . . . Carol?

I tried to sit up. I was dizzy and the movement created a sharp pain on my forehead. I felt sticky damp blood on my face. There was a dark stain on the rocks. Must be more blood. My entire body was sore but the main areas were my head and my knee.

As I moved my head throbbed, my ears were ringing, my balance was off, and my vision would not quite focus.

And what had happened to Ashley I suddenly asked myself. She seemed to have abandoned me when it was obvious I needed help. I decided this was a subject I would think about later. I had more important concerns at this particular moment.

With great effort I climbed up to the trail from the small slab of rock where I had ended up after tripping and falling. When I finally made it to the trail I needed to rest for several minutes. My head was throbbing and I was dizzy. My vision was still off.

It was getting close to nightfall. I could see the dark shapes of trees and rocks, but beyond it was the darkening blue of the sky. My vision blurred at times. I could also sense the temperature dropping, I began to shiver. I had to get out of here.

Walking was difficult. With the shape my knee was in, the darkness, and the blood that was dripping into my eyes, the going was slow. At one point I found myself crawling over the large protruding roots. This proved to be a bad strategy, my knee hurt too badly for this. My pace back down the trail was painfully slow.

I focused on the ground as I limped back. At one point I stopped to rest. There was a dull throb on my forehead and this injury made me woozy. I looked around and despite all the times I had been on this trail I didn’t quite recognize where I was. Perhaps this area at night looked different I thought. But certainly I should have seen the pathway to the switchbacks by now.

And where was the large lighter colored rock? The one that we would always mark with an X? Surely it had to be around here somewhere. I didn’t see it. In fact I could not figure out where I was at all. Nothing was familiar.

Had I walked past the switchbacks? I hobbled back a little to try to get my bearings. Looking around, confused, head aching, I could not figure out where I was. I decided to continue to move forward and hope to find a known landmark. Ten minutes later I was still confused. I was cold and tired but for a moment I stopped, sat on a log, and looked around.

The forest had opened up a little. I looked at the dark outline of the fir trees black against the dark blue sky. That sky was darkening, turning from blue to purple. I was pretty sure I had not been in this spot before. As the wind whistled through the trees I began to realize something, and it frightened me.

I was lost.

I sat on the log and wept. I had screwed up my life so badly. I was hurt, tired, cold, dizzy, but worse than all that I was an emotional wreck. All the stupid things I had done.

I had a good life, then I fucked it up.

I was frustrated, angry, sad and alone.

“SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!” I shouted up to the sky, no clear plan of what I was to do next.

At first I was greeted with silence. Just the sound of the wind in the trees and the normal small forest noises. But then I saw something far off, something moving toward me.

“Help!” I shouted. I stood, waving my arms.

Was it another hiker or a forest ranger? Suddenly I had a flicker of hope.

“Help, help me!” I shouted.

But as the movement came closer I saw the familiar image. I was frightened but hopeful. Could this be the help I needed I wondered? Was this real?

“Carol?” I cried. “I’m hurt, and I’m lost, and I’m cold.” I said. “Can you help me?” I asked.

And when I saw her face I saw that same kind face that I had known so well. I always knew that Carol would put my needs before her own. She was always the one to make sacrifices and never complain.

“I see you’re hurt Mark.” She said, “Your head looks bad, you look like you’ve lost blood.” She continued, a concerned tone to her voice.

“Carol, where are we? I can’t find my way back to the car. Can you help me, please?” I begged.

“Of course Mark,” Carol told me. “I’ve always helped you. I will help you now.” She told me with that same kind look on her face.

“Before we go home,” she said. “I think you need to explain to me what happened.” She added, with the same sincere expression.

“I know,” I said. “I am so sorry my hand slipped Carol. I felt so sad. I have felt guilty ever since.” I told her. I had almost convinced myself all this was true.

“Mark,” She said, with a more serious look on her face. “You know that’s not true. You need to tell me the truth.” She said with a more stern expression.

“Carol!” I cried. ” It was an accident, I love you . . . .”

“LIAR!” She bellowed, pointing a finger at me. Now the expression on Carol’s face was one I had never seen before. Furious, demonic, it was as if her bone structure shifted, her cheekbones raised, her eyes, angry downward slits, and her mouth snarled the single word. She frightened me.

I stood in shock looking at this demon Carol. Slowly her face changed back to the kind, normal Carol. I was speechless, and throughout all the haunting experiences I had experienced since Carol’s death I had never been more frightened.