I woke up this morning to the snow falling softly onto the frozen Vermont lake outside the cabin window. There’s a certain satisfaction one gets in the snowfall when you don’t have to go anywhere anytime soon, and my sense of well-being was enhanced by a Thanksgiving spent in stillness, in this remote and lovely place, with two full days of going-nowhere and doing-nothing planned.
It’s also the perfect setup for the horror movie/novel where you spend half the time yelling at the protagonist. WHY would you hide in the root cellar from the zombie attack when your car is RIGHT THERE? The key to a good locked room or horror scenario is when you can neither get in nor out. This is a vanishingly rare circumstance in real life. Perhaps a cruise? Although most of them stop places all the time and there’s Coast Guard etc. etc. It’s even harder to do a proper locked room/horror scenario now in the cell phone era. People either have to have the towers go down, be SO remote that you’re out of cell range or (I’m seeing this more and more which just makes me feel OLD) set it in the 90s before the ubiquitous arrival of cell phones.
Sure, I flirt with this kind of scenario a few times a year. There’s the backpacking and hiking. Sometimes we’re truly on our own in those circumstances, but honestly on most of the trails in New Hampshire’s White Mountains you’ll meet a whole posse of friendly people with satellite phones. Every once in a while I go rent a cabin in the woods by myself for a few days. One time I even managed to kind of get myself snowed in at one. But it was nothing a shovel and some salt couldn’t actually fix. Plus I had heat, wifi and cell coverage the whole time. We go camping of course, but most of the campgrounds are small mobile town with very thin walls and that one guy who thinks we all want to listen to his music. Heck, White Lake State Park is in easy walk of a Dunkin’ Donuts.
It’s gradually been made evident to me that my perfect vacation getaway is actually the horror movie scenario. But it’s only half of one. I mean, this Vermont lake is great, but there’s way too many other houses in view. And I can hear the plows working on the road on the other side. Pffft. 3/10 can’t get out in case of zombie apocalypse. For a very long time, I had a daydream about being a fire lookout. Now THERE is a great horror movie setup! Miles up on top of a mountain, watching what’s coming with no way out that doesn’t involve a 5 mile hike, abandoning your post, and hoping someone will pick you up at the trailhead. Of course, my daydreams of this vocation failed to understand that I’m an obligate extrovert who cannot go 48 hours without human contact. But still, the purity of the scenario pulls at me. Why? I don’t know. I think it has to do with being truly alone, independent, and ruggedly capable. Which sounds great as long as I have good wifi and snacks and I’m toasty warm.
The snow is slackened tonight, the plows are out, and tomorrow will dawn bright, clear and cold. There was no reverse 911 call. The tv was not on in the background talking about the escaped terrorist/madman/murderer. There were no mysterious footprints outside the door. The wolves were not baying to the full moon. Instead, I watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on the couch with my sons on either side and husband across from me, all of us fully pajama’d, caffeinated and snarky. Then we sat around the table for a few hours and played “The Zone” – a horror RPG where survival is not the goal but collaborative storytelling is. (My sons are very capable of creepy imaginings – make me proud they do.) I worked on my Christmas cards. We made a steak dinner from Hello Fresh. The fire has been going all day, and the balsam fir Yankee Candle is burning on the table. It’s the time of year when the sun is fully set by 4:15 and 9 pm feels like 2 am. Christmas music is playing quietly.
It’s not the excitement of a vampire attack, but it will do for now.
My Truant Pen 