Writing Cramp- Cabin

The cabin stood awkwardly in the field, listing to one side. Cam could see there were gaps between the boards. The whole place simply seemed askew. Cam could not wait to carry her boxes up the stairs and settle in.

In order to finish her dissertation, Cam needed solitude. It would help to get away from the party atmosphere her friends enjoyed. The generator would power her iBook and desk lamp.

*

The orchard lay to the rear of the cabin. Fruit was falling but the trees still carried plenty of edible produce. She carried a boxful of apples back to the cabin and sat them on the front porch. A wooden chair faced the road and the woods beyond. She sat in the chair, wiping an apple clean with a damp towel, a mug of black coffee on the narrow boards.

Across the road a massive, brown figure moved, its weight precariously balanced on wiry, bony legs which comprised most of its height. When she moved in John told her about the local moose herd. Apparently if she didn’t approach, they wouldn’t either. She’d taken to calling the one now foraging the woods across from her Jinny. Jinny had a star of white on one ear. Every so often, Jinny would stand at the edge of the road and stare at the cabin, as if acknowledging Cam.

*

Cam woke to something heavy brushing the side of the cabin. The wooden box shuddered. She pulled the heavy blanket tight around her as she sat up in the bed, listening. The cabin was cold, the world outside as silent as nocturnal woods could be. She contemplated the possibilities. Wild animals could be terrifying, but generally left human habitations alone unless provoked or hungry. Whatever had brushed the outside of her cabin had likely been curious, not dangerous, and wandered off when it smelled human. She settled back down onto the bed.

In the morning, Cam woke with a start. There was an odd smell to the cabin, part wet dog, part wild animal. She heard a shuffling outside her bedroom door. Something snorted at the narrow opening at the bottom.

The door crashed open. It bounced back and there was a crack as it hit something solid. Cam threw the blanket over her head to provide as little threat as possible to whatever was in her room. Cam wanted to finish her dissertation, she wanted to someday get married. And right now, she wanted to get the hell out of the woods.

Something snuffled at the blanket. Through the weight of down she could smell something rancid. It smelled fermented. The snuffling continued for a few moments. Something else, heavy and freely moving, kept smacking her under the covers. Huge hooves moved unsteadily across the wooden floor. Finally it settled heavily on the floor at the foot of the bed. She heard her suitcase clatter across the floor. She stayed hidden until she heard the breath of the beast even out as it dropped into a heavy sleep.

The blanket was wet on the outside. Rancid drool practically dripped from it. She moved timidly across the bed and looked. It was Jinny. Drunk. Cam moved gingerly off the bed and as silently as possible out into the main room.

Paperwork was scattered by stumbling hooves. The table lay on its side. Cam felt her heart slap her ribcage and her lungs lock. The paperwork could be saved and reorganized. But where was her laptop?

The laptop bag had been zipped and left on the table. It should have been large enough to spy even in the chaotic pile of papers.

Under the couch? Cam dropped to her knees as quietly as possible and scanned beneath. Not there. Rather than stand, she sat in the middle of the mess, pulling her knees up to her chest and trying not to cry. Two years of hard work, meticulous research and a clinical trial. The data was backed up, but the writing wasn’t. There were nearly 150 pages of writing on the laptop which existed nowhere else.

She heard the bed shudder in the next room as Jinny moved in her drunken stupor. Wait- Jinny. Something had bounced off the blanket while the moose was busy drooling on it.

Climbing quietly back onto the bed, she peered down at the inebriated mammal. Wrapped around the cow’s neck was a strap. Her head rested on the body of the case. Cam imagined thick, malodorous slobber dripping through holes in the newly damaged case into her laptop, onto the keyboard, down to the precious hard drive.

*

Cam was on the front porch when John showed up. Cam hadn’t had coffee. She hadn’t brushed her hair or teeth. She looked and felt like hell.

“Rough night?”

“Very. The moose has my laptop.”

John blinked. “The who has your what?”

Cam gestured to the thrashed cabin. “See for yourself. There is a drunk moose named Jinny in my bedroom with my laptop around her neck, drooling into the hard drive.”

John whistled. “Drunk moose. Hand me an apple.”

She tossed one through the door and sank silently back down in the chair.

A few minutes later, John emerged with the drool-sodden case hanging from the strap. She stood and snatched it from his grasp, placing it gingerly on the uneven boards of the porch before tugging at the zipper. Her heart lifted as she tenderly pulled the laptop free and pushed the case aside. The laptop appeared fine, but she held her breath as she pressed the power button. John wandered the inside of the cabin while she did a quick inspection of the laptop functions. 150 pages, intact, her studies, intact, her laptop, intact.

“Is it okay?” John stood in the door, a pile of papers in his hand.

Cam grinned. “Yes. I didn’t know how to get it away from her-“

“You just have to know how to deal with party animals.”