Almost Close Enough

20260130

Written for Luna Asli Kolcu’s “Myths of Winter - Week 9” event.

Kathy had two loves in this world; her mutt Chubb and photography. This weekend she was going to indulge both.
The frozen lake was a breathtaking sight, light reflecting off its surface so the surrounding woods was up-lit like a photoshoot. Branches eerily bright against the crisp afternoon sky. Trunks illuminated better than the strongest flash could manage. And the frozen ground only looking darker by comparison.
“Gorgeous.” Kathy breathed as another shot came out just right. She grinned down at her camera, then up at Chubb, who was determinedly dragging a stick longer than him.
Alright. Sun was starting to sink below the horizon. Time to get some shots of the lake itself, now the glare would be fading.
So she whistled to Chubb and crunched towards the shore. Just as she reached the water’s edge Chubb suddenly darted past her and stopped dead, resting his hip firmly against her leg. Barring her from getting closer.
“Huh? What’s the matter?” Kathy stooped to rest a hand on his back.
He was trembling. What’d gotten him riled up? Though she’d long ago concluded he was part herder, this instinct didn’t kick in often. And had saved her from trouble before.
Maybe he thought she was going to walk onto the lake, and was worried about her falling through? But, no, in that case he’d be giving her his reproachful puppy pout. Instead he was staring out across the lake. Posture wary and hackles raised.
Kathy squinted against the crimson rays of the setting sun. Them coming from both above and below was an incredible shot, though one she suspected her camera wouldn’t catch well. She couldn’t see anything amiss.
Something was bothering her, though. Just nerves from Chubb? Maybe…
Then she realised it was another sense that was trying to get her attention - she could hear voices.
Coming from the ice. Amidst the erratic creaking were words. Teasing at her ears, not quite forming sentences. Too quiet. Too muffled. Too much wind noise.
Maybe that was for the best.
Kathy backed away from the lake, and Chubb stuck with her, not taking his eyes off the whispering ice until they were back amongst the trees. Then he looked up at Kathy with his reproachful puppy pout.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Kathy scratched him under the chin. “C’mon, let’s head back.”
She set off towards the RV, and to her surprise Chubb followed close at her heels. Not even stopping to sniff the giant branch he’d insisted on bringing with them for an hour of walking.
“Don’t you want your treasure?” She pointed.
Chubb followed the motion, and his tail waggled uncertainly. But he didn’t move from her side.
“Well… ok.”
The walk was short and uneventful; Kathy had taken advantage of the empty camping grounds to park right by the lake. That was… probably fine. Right? Wasn’t like they were close to the ice. And the other end of the lot wasn’t much further from it. And it was already dark.
She’d make that decision in the morning.
In, towel Chubb down, check how much charge the solar panels had managed, awesome, put the heating on and get chilli warming up.
Now that they were indoors Chubb was his usual cheery self, sprawled across the bed with his stuffed pickle toy watching her bustle about. Eagerly awaiting his dinner.
By the time Kathy settled down to sleep, comfortably sandwiched between Chubb and her electric heated blanket, she was fairly confident she’d just imagined those voices. All the ice noises had freaked out Chubb and tricked her mind. That’s all.
Pressure. Cold. Waves lapping against her body, her face. Hair trailing in the water. Hands pressing against the ice. Thinner, thinner, each year thinner… not thin enough. Not yet. But…
She pressed her lips against her frosty prison and burbled “Give me your hand.”
Again and again, her voice melding with countless others around her. Begging for someone to break through, give her something she could grasp, let in the light-
Kathy woke with a start, and gasped with relief when she realised it’d been a dream. Then gasped again as she realised she was upright, almost dressed in fact, and Chubb was watching her in anxious confusion.
What time was it?? Not quite two in the morning. Not a time to be taking on those icy rural roads. No matter how tempting it felt to be out of here.
Instead Kathy finished getting dressed, made sure the door and all the windows were definitely locked, checked the RV charge, and rejoined Chubb in bed. But she stayed sat up, clutching her camera to her chest. While she didn’t think it would do much against… whatever was out there, if the worst came to it, maybe she could at least leave some evidence.
Just sit tight and wait for sunrise. As soon as there was enough light they were out of here!
The walls of the RV weren’t noise proof. Far from it. And every time the wind died down she could hear the voices drifting from the lake.
“Please…”
“We’re so close…”
“Give us your hand…”
Was terror fuelling her imagination, or was the ice creaking in a rhythmic fashion? Like a score of people were pounding on it in ragged unison? Begging to be let in.
What if it cracked?
No, surely if they could do that they would’ve by now…
Though Chubb’s nose was on his paws, his ears were tracking the sounds intently.
Kathy took a deep breath and checked her watch. Five hours until sunrise.
Please, please let that ice hold…

Prompt was “The frozen lake has always been silent. Now it’s started making sounds. Not just creaking. Words. Fragments of conversations from people who crossed there decades ago. The ice is thinning. The voices are getting clearer. And they’re asking for something.”