Page 7 of Heir to a Curse

Chapter 3

By the time I returned to the cabin after dumping the yard waste and picking up some basic supplies, night had fallen hard, and I was ready to settle down. I’d swept out a corner of what had been the bedroom, and wiped down the bathroom, testing the toilet before using it, and while it worked, it needed to be replaced. So I made a list. Even sketched out a few changes to the small kitchen area to make it more functional.

The quiet of the cabin after most of my life being in the city or suburbs was a little unsettling. Which was why when there was a knock on the door I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Fuck,” I grumbled mostly to myself as I got up from the little sleeping bag nest I’d made myself. “Jumpy much?”

I made my way to the door and opened it, almost expecting no one to be there. But a young man stood a few feet away clutching a basket in his hands and looking around warily. He was small, maybe five-foot-six, with blond hair, styled trendy, and wore skinny jeans with a fitted V-neck T-shirt in what looked like coral. Reminded briefly of Jerry earlier, I instantly thought, ‘twink’.

“Hello?” I said.

He jumped a little. “Oh, hey. Hi! I’m Montana. I’d shake your hand, but you know, pandemic.” He kept his distance but set the basket down and backed away. “Mr. Yamamoto said you’d be staying out here. You’re the new owner and all. He said you weren’t going to kick us out.”

“I’m not,” I said. Unless he was the really bad gardener. “Nice to meet you Montana, I’m Zach.”

He nodded, his head bobbing like one of those little plastic dolls. “I know. Right. Oh.” He waved at the basket. “I made you some food. I’m the chef here. The space above the garage isn’t exactly a chef’s dream of a kitchen, but it works. I thought at least this would be better than fast food or cold sandwiches. Not sure if this little cabin even has a fridge.”

The chef? He looked barely legal. “Thank you,” I said. “There is no fridge.” But it was on my list. “You’re the chef?”

“Yes. Miss Sofia hired me a little over a year ago. Met her while I was slaving at some downtown restaurant. She thought my skills were wasted there.” He pointed to the basket again. “There are some cooler packs in there. Should keep it fresh all night. I can pick them up tomorrow. I wasn’t sure if you had any allergies. Mr. Yamamoto didn’t know. So it’s basic fair. But I separated out containers so if you’re gluten or dairy intolerant you still have options.”

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.” I stepped out of the cabin to retrieve the basket.

“Didn’t remember it being so dark out here. Not like I ever came back this way before. And you know, the stories, they don’t help.” Montana pointed to the shrine. “Ghosts and all that.”

“No ghosts out here,” I promised. “However, I’ll add some of those solar lights to my list to help brighten the walkway. It’s a clear enough path to charge them. How about I walk you back to the house?”

He looked nervous for a minute, even though we could both obviously see the roof of the house in the distance. “Sure, that would be good. Um. Sorry. It’s just a little creepier than I thought.”

I set the basket inside and slipped my shoes on, before heading out to walk him back to the house. “Montana, eh?”

“Funny, right?” He said as we made our way back. “Mountain. And I’m small, I know. My parents had big dreams for me, I guess.”

“Had?” Had he lost his parents?

“They kicked me out when they found out I was gay. Spent most of my teen years bouncing from youth center to youth center. Until I got into one of the chef training programs the last one sponsored. That’s how I ended up here. Pretty sure cooking for a private household wasn’t what my parents would have dreamt for me. Crap, shouldn’t have said all that. Do you want to kick me out now too?”

“No. What about you? Do you like it?”

He seemed to think about that for a minute as we found our way back onto the patio. “I’d like it more if I had more than a handful to cook for. I know Sofia wanted people visiting, and we had a wedding here last year. That was the best. I’d do that over and over if I could.” He rubbed his hands over his arms like he was cold, but his smile was huge.

“Hopefully we’ll get there. Just have to make some repairs. Will you be around in the morning so I can go over some kitchen plans with you? Since you’ll be the one using it.” We arrived at the back door, everything bright with lights.

“Really?” His eyes got wide.

“Really. Sofia wanted this place to be something special. I’m hoping I can make that happen. Bring life back to it.”

“What about the curse?” He whispered.

“Sofia was hoping it would pass with her, or that somehow I’d break it.”

Montana put his hands together and squeezed them to his heart. “True love. Romantic, right?”

“Sure,” I agreed, not knowing much about romance myself. “What sort of things do you want in your dream kitchen?”

He bit his lower lip, looking thoughtful. “I sort of have a Pinterest list. It’s a social media thing.” He waved his hand. “A collection of pictures of things I’d like. In the kitchen, I mean.”

“Okay. Can you send me a link to it?” Several clients over the past couple of years had used Pinterest or Instagram to keep track of their dream remodels. I was well versed in both platforms, even though I never used them myself.