Hidden Lake

Black Swan

ONE

"Meet me tomorrow at Hidden Lake, if you dare!"

He pulled at his stubbled chin while continuing to read the PM from her on his glowing laptop screen. It was late after the long flight from Dublin to Los Angeles, but his jet lag suddenly vanished with the sense of excitement building in his chest.

"It lies in the shadow of Mt San Jacinto, and is over 9,000 feet above sea level. You can ride the Palm Springs aerial tramway to the first ridge, get a pass and map from the Ranger Station, and hike in. Be there no later than 5.00 PM. Bring a blanket, and come alone."

"Typical student drama major!" he said to his empty airport hotel room. "Melodramatic, with a bit of challenge tossed in!"

"A blanket?" he breathed with coy smile.

He phoned the front desk to arrange for a car rental and wake-up call. Palm Springs was over 100 miles distant, and an early start would ward off the August summer heat.

Crawling between the sheets, he reflected on the past few months since encountering her on boards.ie. It was fun playing online with the whimsical flirt and tease, never thinking that he would actually meet her in the flesh. She had one of the many silly personas, avatars, and names that no one really took seriously when attempting to overcome the boredom of daily life.

His decision to come had been on impulse and not particularly rational. He had PM'd her to say that he was in dire need of a break from routine, and a short trip Stateside would do the trick. Would she see him if he just happened to be in her neighborhood?

The anonymity of boards.ie and her playful secrecy only gave him a vague notion of where she lived in Southern California. OC (Orange County) came up frequently in her posts, as did the fact that she lived in a beach city and did a bit of surfing and sunbathing.

Although he frequently admitted to mates that he was carefree and single, having much of life to explore before settling down, something about her drew him. The months of playing online with her had gotten past his defenses, striking a heartfelt chord.

Occasionally he would punch himself as a reminder that his time with her online was surreal and characteristic of the web. He must be a fool's fool to take her seriously, much less travel part-way around the world on a whim to see her for the first time.

Hidden Lake? He fantasized several alternative first encounters with her as he drifted off to sleep.

TWO

Pappa-eat-peach

I couldn't help noticing that your location and the female character's location are the one and the same in this piece, Blue_Lagoon, along with the message board. Is this a signal to someone on boards, or is it a way of sparking other people's interest in you, or are you using your environs as a base?

Black Swan

Pappa-eat-peach wrote:

I couldn't help noticing that your location and the female character's location are the one and the same in this piece, Blue_Lagoon, along with the message board. Is this a signal to someone on boards, or is it a way of sparking other people's interest in you, or are you using your environs as a base?

Don't tell US Homeland Security that I might be sending messages to someone in Ireland through the characters in my fiction... I'll disappear and be found years later in Gitmo (Cuba). Ha!

Went to one of those book reading and signing sessions once. The author of the book commented: "You can write were you're at, or write where you're not." His name was Dean Koontz (has many NY Times Best Sellers) and he lives nearby in Newport Beach, with most of his novels occurring in his small city and surrounding beach cities (including mine). Also, he mentioned that, aside from the disclaimer at the front of all his novels, most of the personalities of his characters are based upon people he knows, and sometimes himself (even his dog is featured in some of his novels). When attempting to establish realism, what better source than something real? Woof, woof!

Black Swan

"Hidden Lake?" the Park Ranger asked, looking at the sign-in register destination. "Well, you'll enjoy the solitude for sure."

"No one else?" he inquired.

"No," said the Park Ranger. "And you'll be the last allowed up today, given the distance to get there and return by dark."

He turned to leave, then stopped in his tracks, looking at the floor and pulling at his chin.

"Problem?" asked the Park Ranger.

"Ahhhhh, no."

Leaving the Ranger Station, he found himself on a trail that crossed Long Valley. The stream, green grass, and surrounding pine forest had attracted day campers, several with children. It was the beginning of his trek, and as he hiked beyond this valley into the deep, ancient forest, he encountered fewer people, eventually none. Alone on the trail his mind wandered.

"What happened to her?" he grumbled to himself. "Am I on a wild goose chase, only to be stood up by a girl after traveling 10,000 kms to see her?" Mixed feelings of doubt, foolishness, and anger shot through his soul.

"Bloody hell!" his cry echoed through a deep ravine that angled up the side of the mountain. He paused, thinking about turning back, then marched on.

The trail began to ascend from 8,000 to 9,000 feet, winding in snake-like fashion about large tree trunks and boulders. He stopped to catch his wind, not accustomed to such heights in Ireland.

"Maybe her car broke down?" he voiced looking about the tall pines. "Or worse, involved in an accident?" Wiping his face with the bandana bought in the upper tramway station, he began to worry about her, and to feel a little guilty for doubting her sincerity. She was a student with limited means, and would be driving an unfamiliar, older car borrowed from her flatmate.

Rather than shuffle back-and-forth with indecision, he countinued his trek to Hidden Lake.

That's when he heard the noise from behind and to his right. It sounded like footsteps in dry leaves. He halted, and so did the steps. Looking over his shoulder he saw nothing. No movement. No shape other than the thick pine forest with a snarl of bushes.

Months ago he had read an overseas report of a mountain lion attack in this forest. It had made quite a news media sensation, "Maneater in Southern California!" Of course he knew the tabloids to exaggerate, but now, alone in this dark forest, his heart began to beat faster. Was he being stalked by such a beast?

He began a quickened pace, looking frequently over his shoulder. The stalking noise resumed.

"Run!" his inner voice shouted. Just then a huge buck exploded through the tree branches behind him, crossing the trail and leaping down the slope.

"Ohhhhhhhh sh*t!" he yelled in relief after the retreating animal, then started to laugh, so hard tears formed in his eyes.

Half catching his breath from excitement and altitude, he stumbled on, eventually arriving at Hidden Lake.

THREE

Black Swan

The postcard picturesque Hidden Lake framed with green pines the distant reflection of two-mile-high Mt San Jacino on its shimmering surface. Unbeknown to romantic hikers, hidden on one side of the lake was a sheer mountain cliff that dropped to the Cochella Valley 9000 feet below.

"One slip here and ye'd be buzzard food when hitting bottom!" he proclaimed to himself, warily edging a look over the cliff's edge.

It was then that he remembered how a fellow countryman had admonished him to meet this girl for the first time in a public location. A story was retold about a relationship that had started online, where parties first met in a secluded place, with the girl serving as a decoy to lure the male victim into an assault and robbery by her male friends.

"Not this girl!" he said, trying to wave away doubts that had emerged since her failure to appear for the Ranger Station sign-in. "Besides, I'm not rich and have little money with me."

"She was different in many ways," he had to admit to himself. After all, she was the only girl he knew that trained with an Iaijutsu swordmaster.

He continued to scan the lakeshore, looking for her arrival, but there were no signs of life aside from an occasional dragonfly that would skim the water's surface.

Fatigue from the hike and altitude's thin air was cause for him to seek a seat on a nearby log. He kept referring to his watch, now that the appointed hour of 5.00 PM had come and gone.

Shadows began to lengthen as the sun approached the horizon. It was then that he sensed something different. A new shadow had appeared that was cast by something directly behind him! With a startled gasp, quickly he looked over his shoulder and saw her.

She was shades of brown. Dressed in leather buckskins, moccasins, brunette hair tied in a long pony, java eyes, and medium tan skin, she blended-in with the scenery behind her. But one thing was amiss. With two handed grip she held a long bladed sword at an angle over her head.

Time froze as if in a photographic still after he had seen a sunlit metallic flash off of the naked blade. Then darkness.

RING! RING! RING! RING! He now found himself on the floor of his airport hotel room shaking and covered in sweat. After several futile attempts to reach the phone's receiver on the nightstand, he finally brought it to his ear. "Wake-up Call!"

EPILOGUE (if story ends here)

Story's lesson? Don't lose your head to a girl on the web?