The November project 2020, part 9

The bus over to Raspberry hills was packed to the brim the next day. Sundays meant more hikers and fewer departures – absolutely, but this was above usual levels. The weather wasn’t even as good as it had been yesterday, today saw significantly more clouds and winds. The parking lot was more than full when we arrived, some cars had had to park in a way that probably wasn’t legal. I could see some police cars among them, four in total, but none of the officers seemed to focus on writing tickets. Something was happening today, and it was definitely not a quiz walk. Today, I stepped on all four steps up to the entrance.    Grave faces met me when I came in. All the irons were running and the hall was full, still the usual tempo was missing, the high but happy energy. Vera stood leaning against a wall, seemed to be drifting off in her own thoughts, looking just as worried as when the guys from the FDA had been here. Amir was stocking the small display fridge, he seemed to be the only one actually working tight now. Peter stood by the register but didn’t serve any customers, instead he was talking with a broad-shouldered man wearing a beige coat. He looked important. Was he a cop too?    - What is going on? I asked Vera, who almost reacted as if you had woken her up from a hypnosis.    - A man uh… went missing in here in the forest two days ago. They’re about to look for him now, lots of volunteers are helping out.    - Oh, I must have missed that post from Missing People then, about there being a search party already… I saw the first post yesterday about a man missing, plus I met his girlfriend, she was in here asking for him.    - I see… Alba, I gotta admit, I’m not feeling well. I think I need a smoke.    - Smoke?? You don’t smoke?    - No, it was probably like 20 years since last time, she said with a laugh. But I already had the threat of closing down to worry about, should I really have to worry about them maybe finding a body in the woods as well?    - Jesus Christ woman, get it together. It doesn’t have to be that bad, does it? He might just have got lost and slept under a spruce or something. You know how easy it is to take the wrong turn up there at the Oak neck on the black track, they really gotta fix the markers there.    - From what I’ve heard he knew these woods well… but sure.    - Who is Peter talking to by the way?    - The commissioner.    - Ahh. Of course.    I walked up to them, waiting for a gap in the conversation so I could introduce myself. I had only met commissioners as guest lecturers before, never actually seen anyone out in the field. In all potential darkness, this was a little bit exciting.    His name turned out to be Frank Miller, like straight out of an American action drama. I had trouble defining his age; his body looked like any young gym crazy dude’s, but his face was tormented and the eyes were tired, as if he had seen too many things he didn’t want to see. Both factors came with work, I supposed.