blue ridge writing retreat

she had scrimped and saved until she had just enough money to take 3 months off to write. her destination was originally a small cabin in a remote and beautiful part of the blue ridge mountains. at the last minute, the cabin had flooded out and she was left scrambling to find a suitable replacement. after many dead ends, someone suggested the attached guest quarters of an elderly woman. she was reluctant because she wanted solitude but finally agreed because it was her last option.

when she arrived, the beauty of the place took her breath away. the house looked like it had probably been built in the 40's, but it was solid and obviously tended to lovingly. there were flowering vines trailing up every post, fruit trees everywhere and large, gorgeous flower beds and vegetable gardens alive with happy bees. the woman who owned the property was in her 70's, but she was very sturdy and moved like a much younger person. her smile was warm and genuine and her handshake was strong. she felt solid and seemed to be made of whatever it was that coalesced in a person to emanate the comforting aura of trust. the old woman led the young woman around the back to show her where she would be staying. as they rounded the corner of the house, the young woman could see a soft green lawn sloping down to a deep, clear, fast running stream. she knew she would be able to write here.

in spite of the younger womans previous declaration for solitude, within a couple of days she found herself sharing meals with the older woman. the younger woman also found herself sharing closely guarded truths with her host. in the same soft way she had invited the young woman to share her dinners, the older woman gently encouraged 'confessional' conversation by nodding, coaxing softly and offering no judgement in return. before long, the young woman had revealed things about herself that had never fallen upon anyone else's ears; the dead-end romances (one with a married man), the two abortions, years of drugs, alcohol and  nameless sex to numb the pain, her fears of failure and success. the young woman soon lost her want to keep her secrets and spoke until she felt unburdened and more relaxed than she had in years. her writing flowed effortlessly.

it was nearing dinnertime into her 3rd week, her finished pages cached safely in her hard drive (no access to the internet or her cell phone). she'd written almost a dozen pages that day alone and had happily gathered up two spectacular flowers in the afternoon when she'd stopped for lunch. to celebrate her growing body of work, she decided to slip the flowers behind her ear after her shower to surprise the older woman at dinner. as she made her final adjustments and moved across her room toward the door, the door exploded open and slammed hard on the wall. it was the older woman filling the doorway- but she was changed. gone was her gentle manner and open expression. in its place was pure rage- frightening, almost masculine in its power. in one of her hands, she held an ax. 'i guess you've been a very sinful girl,' she hissed loudly, 'it's time to be punished.' with that she turned on her heel, slammed the door and immediately locked it. the young woman stood frozen in the same spot she'd been in when the door first opened. her brain seemed frozen too. how could she process what had just transpired- was it a dream? the older woman quickly moved around the outside of the apartment, closing the shutters to all the windows and bolting them tight. as the last shutter was secured, the young woman plummeted into the moment and realized that she had just been imprisoned by a total stranger in the middle of the woods with no one expecting to hear from her for almost 2 1/2 more months. she heard a metallic scraping of a switch being pulled and was plunged into total darkness.

'you have worked against the lord!' the old woman bellowed from outside, 'you will be washed clean!' she then began to recite verses from the bible like the crazy, impotent street corner zealots the young woman passed harmlessly (and barely noticed...) every day on her way to the subway. the old woman's vehement sermon was filled with an angry repetition of words like 'smiting, revenge, atonement, rape' and finally someone burning his daughter alive to 'prove his love for god'. after an hour, the old woman's voice grew raspy and she stopped reciting aloud. the young woman pressed her ear against the window and heard the old woman shuffle away toward the front of the house (a sound familiar to her now...). the young woman figured she had an excellent chance of being burned alive in an 'accidental' blue ridge house fire. a fire commanded by providence so that the old woman's 'god' could reap satisfaction by inhaling the aroma of her burning (and sin-filled...) flesh as it lifted to the clouds. the young woman picked up a chair and smashed out one of the windows. she then kicked the shutter until a shard split off that was just big enough for her to squeeze through. she had her body out of the room and one foot on the ground when the old woman turned the corner of the house with a shotgun held at her shoulder and pulled the trigger. she was only 10 feet away but her aim was wild and missed. the young woman ran down the embankment toward the stream and threw herself into the fast current. as she swam with all her might, she felt the concussion of the shotgun blasts as they hit the water around her. she was gasping from a combination of fear, flight and being plunged into icy cold water- but even as she was pulled far enough away to be safe from the shotgun, she could still hear the old woman screaming for her to come back to be cleansed.