All These H0llow Things - Mackenzie Bennett

The quiet town of Springport, Michigan had been hit with heavy rain every day the week prior. The streets were flooded with water, streams of it rushing into drainpipes, struggling to deal with the overflow. The twin lakes—more like ponds—also saw a significant rise in water levels. And several rivers, like Ashhill river up in the mountains, have become mere torrents coursing through the land, swallowing anything in its path. This level of flooding occurs every year during this time. When summer starts to give way to fall and a chill slithers in to take its place.

Storms are likely to brew.

This day, however, was dryer than others. The torrential surge of rain lessened to a mere drizzle. Dark gray clouds blanketed the sky, blocking the light of the sun. Dense fog lingered in the air and the smell of rain enveloped every inch of the town.

This wouldn’t sway Marnie. She took this lapse in rain as an opportunity and decided to trek her favorite hiking trails found on Grove Mountain. Her boyfriend, Noah and their beloved golden lab, Bentley, accompanied her. While walking, Marnie heard the soft pattering of rain on the leaves. With a deep breath, she inhaled the rich earthy scents of mud and moss. The decay of leaves and fallen, hollowed logs. Marnie exhaled just as a smile spread across her lips.

Noah’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Feels good to be back?”

Marnie hummed in response. The same warm smile brightened her face. During the hours that she spends on this mountain, she could simply breathe.

The pair continued along the trail and were swiftly swept in conversation. Their hiking boots squelching through the mud. Ahead of them, Bentley wandered the trail. His tail wagging merrily as he bent his head, sniffing the ground as he went. The dog took a particular interest in a fallen log covered in moss. The inside completely hollow. The wood a deep, rotting brown. A few mushrooms lining one side.

Bentley’s head shot up—brown eyes bright and alert. He strayed from the path, past the log as if beckoned by something. Noah called him back. Bentley hesitated, whining. He obeyed, then wandered ahead once more.

They diverged from the main trail and headed down a fork in the path. On this path, they happened upon a patch of thicket. Noah drew some of the bushes back with his arm, allowing Marnie and Bentley to squeeze through. Bentley bounded down easily. His mouth hung open with his tongue lolling to the side. Noah followed. Only he wasn’t as graceful as his furry companion and nearly slipped in the mud. Marnie watched him, stifling a laugh.

“Careful, you might pull something.” Marnie teased. Her hazel eyes alight with amusement.

Noah righted himself and stepped down onto the stones littering the riverbed. He smiled as he wiped his hands together, trying to rid them of the mud and grit. “Careful or I’ll toss you in the mud next.”

Marnie laughed. She turned away from him, looking behind her.

Ahead, just meters away, Ashhill river stood. Marnie watched the surge of murky, silt-ridden water as it rippled and bubbled, how it swirled and churned as it lapped at the rocks. Marnie didn’t want to test the power of that current.

Bentley wandered ahead once more while Marnie and Noah hung back. They were lost in conversation, laughing and teasing one another as they walked.

A chorus of barking erupted, snagging their attention. Marnie halted in her tracks. Noah followed. They looked ahead to find Bentley yards away. Dangerously close to the river’s edge.

“Bentley, get over here!” Noah demanded. The dog never budged. Never turned his head. He went on barking. Then he began to whine.

What’s got him so worked up? Marnie wondered.

Noah hurried over to the dog. Marnie not far behind. Noah grabbed Bentley’s collar, nudging him away.

“What’s going on with you?” Noah asked, patting the dog’s head. Bentley’s whines rang in Marnie’s ears. His barks vibrating in her chest. Marnie followed the dog's gaze.

There—wedged in between two boulders—a small body lay face down in the murky water. The body of eleven-year-old Ava Chamberlin.

***

Ava Chamberlin was announced missing over a year ago. October 27th to be exact. She was out with her mother running errands. At some point between 4:35 and 4:46pm, the mother, Katherine grabbed a cup of coffee and jug of milk from a convenience store. Ava was said to have been sitting in the car while she played with her favorite doll, alone. When the mother returned, Ava was nowhere to be found.

No one saw anything.

Katherine wailed. Her cries echoed as her entire world crumbled.

The convenience store clerk and several others looked on, helpless. One of Katherine’s neighbors had gone to the poor woman and held her as she sobbed uncontrollably.

The police were called. They were quick to conduct a search for the missing child. They scanned the perimeter of the store, then spread out in a mile radius. Then three. Then five.

No trace of Ava Chamberlin was found.

The officers promised to keep looking. They promised to find Ava. But despite these assurances, Katherine retreated home and stayed there; overcome with grief and worry, she couldn’t bear to face the world.

Hours turned into days. As time stretched on, the hope of finding little Ava dwindled. It appeared the police weren’t searching for her anymore; they were looking for a body.

Katherine and her husband, Richard, received a bit of hope that coming spring once the snow melted. The police had discovered Ava’s favorite doll that looked just like her. It had the same mouse-brown hair and clear brown eyes. Its cheeks dusted with freckles like hers. The doll was found in a ditch near a drainpipe, covered in grime. It was the one and only trace they found of little Ava. That had been months ago. Not long after the case grew cold.

Now, here Ava was.