Ouvert

By Keith Letourneau

“Bonsoir! Parlez-vous anglais ou français?”
“Anglais, s’il vous plaît.” the man replied, his voice
weary from the long drive.
“Checking in?” The clerk's eyes seemed to bore into the
man's soul, as if searching for something hidden.
Neon lights from the Open sign cast an eerie glow on the
snow-covered parking lot, like a beacon summoning weary
travelers to their doom. The man and his wife had driven 4 and a
half hours from New Hampshire to reach the Nordic Lodge, a
remote oasis just outside of Québec City. The drive had been
broken up by a layover in Montréal — filled with beer, walks in
dirty snow filled streets, coffee in banks and quick prayers in
historic churches.

“In order to use the facilities, please reserve your time
on the white board next door.” the clerk droned, his voice like
a monotone incantation.
The man slid his magnet labeled #2 to the 1800-1900 time
slot, the sound echoing through the lobby.
“Very important, before the sauna or bath, please shower
first.” the clerk warned, his eyes glinting with a knowing
light.
Knock! Knock!
The man's wife rapped on the wash closet door, her voice
barely above a whisper.
“Anyone in the wash closet?”
A faint, whispery voice seemed to emanate from the other
side of the door, though it was impossible to make out what she
was saying. The words seemed to hang in the air like a
challenge, or a warning.
“Well, let’s just try the door handle so we aren’t standing
out here in the freezing cold,” the man said, his voice laced
with a growing sense of unease.

The handle moved freely, and the door creaked open,
revealing an empty shower that seemed to yawn like a mouthful of
teeth.
“I suppose you want a bit of history on the Nordic spa
treatment and this property?” the clerk asked, his voice
dripping with an unctuous enthusiasm.
“The ancient Scandinavian 'badstue' was a communal
gathering place where people bathed and socialized. The ritual
of bathing was deeply ingrained in the culture, and believed to
cleanse both body and soul. This property is totally off the
grid, a throwback to earlier times... when the darkness was kept
at bay by fire and superstition.”
The man and his wife spent most of their allotted time in
the hot bath, the warmth enveloping them like a shroud. The bath
was heated by wood, and the man chopped away, feeding the fire
as they dipped into the cold plunge intermittently. The water
seemed to writhe and twist around them.
All the sudden, a loud thud and dragging sound occurred,
like a branch being ripped from the earth and hurled into the
river below. The wife’s pupils dilated as adrenaline hit.
“Are there any wild animals or moose on the property?” the
man asked.

“Moose, not really,” the clerk replied, his smile twisting
into a grotesque grin.
“I’ve only ever seen one. Lot of deer though. And other
things... that roam the woods, and the darkness.”
“Let's get back in the cabin now,” the wife whispered, her
eyes wide with terror.
As she turned to exit, her feet hit the cold wood, and she
fell, sliding down the hill toward the river like a sacrifice to
the night. Her fingers made tracks in the snow, and her scream
faded into the darkness, swallowed by the void.
Silence.
The man rushed out, peering into the darkness, feeling the
shadows closing in around him like a living thing. The darkness
clouded over him projecting a menacing shadow, like a child's
shadow puppet on the wall before bed. He turned to run, and felt
something grab his ankle, pulling him back into the darkness. In
the last seconds, he saw the blinking Open sign, flashing Ouvert
into the cold snow.

Keith Letourneau is a born and raised New Englander, who currently resides off the shores of Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire with his wife and two boxer dogs. He enjoys spooky maritime tales, hot tea, long walks in fresh snow and writing short stories in between various travels around the world.