His Side of the Mountain

“Did you notice those boots earlier?” My sister pointed outside, pressing her finger against the window of the visitor center.

“Don’t smudge the window, Jammy,” I scolded.

I needed to lighten up. This summer job was the closest thing I had to a vacation.

“Will they make us clean on our first day?”

“They who?” I motioned around the empty center. “We’re practically alone on this mountain!”

Jammy tilted her head and asked, “But who left those boots on the hitching post? Don’t they remind you of the shoes hanging on power lines back home?”

“There’s a plaque on the hitching post,” I began, “Telling the story of a man who removed those boots to go swimming in the pond, never to return. He was presumed to have drowned. His family asked that the boots remain hanging just in case he returns, even as a ghost.”

“Creepy!”

Suddenly the electricity went out.

I suggested we check the breaker.

In the basement, Jammy let out a yelp. “Why is it wet down here?”

“Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” I countered.

“Seriously,” she said. “There are puddles of water down here despite the fact that it’s not raining!”

I shrugged and looked at the breaker. Everything was switched off.

Jammy leaned close and whispered, “You sure we’re alone?”

I flipped the switches and we bolted upstairs.

“I dunno why we were so nervous, Jammy boasted. “It’s still daylight!”

We looked outside, our eyes falling on the hitching post. The boots were gone.