A Too Cozy Cabin

Or something similar...

Okay, the idea of staying for a couple of weeks in a cabin in the woods at the edge of a pristine lake should sound like a specific slice of heaven.
To normal people.
Mom and I are bringing Sally.
What could possibly go wrong?
Things started out…normally.
With a, “This is the place!” Sally dragged her suitcase across the wide porch and into the cabin.
Which was beautiful, I had to admit. A snug, shaggy, little dwelling with cedar siding and wood shakes, it looked to be one with the surrounding forest.
Across a small clearing was another cabin, remarkably the same.
I looked at it, then at Mom, one eyebrow raised.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, Dear. When Sally booked us, the landlord told her the other cabin would be unoccupied during our stay.”
I nodded as my COVID senses stopped tingling.
The two of us followed my sister inside.
Sally had already disappeared into one of the three bedrooms. Her voice floated back to us. “Oh, this is really nice!”
Mom and I looked around at a wide fireplace, comfortable sitting room, tiny but functional kitchen and bathroom and three golden-wood paneled bedrooms, brightened with the addition of hand-worked quilts and folksy wall hangings.

Everything was scoured and clean.
Mom sank into a chair in front of a crackling little fire. “Now the holiday can begin!” she said.
Looking from the large windows, I could see we were perched on the edge of the lake. The porch wrapped around to a wide deck on the back, which, in turn, led to a dock. A small rowboat dragged from a rope tied to one of the dock posts.
The rest of the day passed relatively peacefully.
If one of your relatives hadn’t been Sally.
After supper, in true ‘Sally’ fashion and holding an enticing bit of enchilada, she coaxed the neighbourhood cat inside. The ‘cat’ that turned out to be a possum. Needless to say, Mom and Sally and I had an entertaining time chasing the wretched creature around until it finally found our pile of ‘enticings’ out on the deck and vacated the premises.
Exhausted, Mom and I headed for bed the minute we got things set right again.
The next morning, just as the weak morning sunshine was beginning to light my room, I was shocked awake by a loud “AAAAHHHHHH!!”
Sally had just seen a rat.
A bit bleary-eyed, Mom and I searched until we found a store of traps while Sally sat on the kitchen table hugging her pantyhose-encased feet.
Mom baited a trap with a bit of peanut butter and set it.
A while later we heard it snap.
As I carried the trap to the garbage, Sally studied it carefully.
Then she shook her head. “No,” she said. “That’s not him.” 
Though we didn’t see any more, Mom and I were rather twitchy for the rest of the holiday…
Other than those little hiccups, we really had no disasters until the last one.
The ‘Sally’ bomb that must detonate.
Let me tell you about it…
Sally had gone out for a walk.
Which was, to the rest of us, a clarion call to batten down the hatches.
Sure enough, a short time later, she returned with something under one arm and breathing hard.
“Quick, close the door!” she shrieked.
I did so as she moved to the kitchen table and set something down.
Something furry.
That squalled.
Sally stepped back. “Ta-daaaa!”
Mom and I were staring at the cutest little baby bear.
I felt my heart stop.
A baby bear here meant that a mama bear was…
Somewhere outside, we heard an ear-numbing roar.
The front door may be water tight, but it obviously allowed for sound leakage.
“Uh-oh,” Sally said, rather breathlessly. “He was all by himself and I …”
Another roar. This one just outside.
“Quick girls!” Mom shouted. “Head for the back!”
Pushing us ahead of her, and grabbing up the car keys and poker as she ran, Mom hustled us toward the back bedroom. Hers in fact.
Just as we reached the entry, the front door blew in, accompanied by yet another roar. This one within the confines of what was becoming an increasingly tiny house.
Mom slammed the bedroom door.
Sally and I looked at her. “But Mom. There’s no back . . .”
That was as far as I got.
Mom swung the poker with purpose and shattered the large back window.
The one that had heretofore looked out over nothing more than the other cabin. And peace.
She threw her colourful quilt over the slivery remains of the panes and gave us another shove.
“Out we go, girls!”
The three of us scrambled over the sill and dropped to the ground.
We heard another roar as we dove into the car and slammed the doors shut. Mom started the car and we backed up the drive.
My last view of the cabin included a large bear’s head poking out of the window of Mom’s former room.
Sally was looking sad. “I thought I’d found a real live teddy bear.”
“You found a real live death!” Mom muttered.
“How can you get a real, live dea . . .” Sally saw the look on Moms’ face and let her voice die away.
“Mom, that bear is going to trash that nice cabin,” I said after a few minutes. “Will their insurance cover that?”
“I’m sure it will, honey.” Mom made a face. “They used to call it ‘Act of God’ insurance. Dunno what it is now.”
“‘Act of Sally’ insurance,” I whispered into her ear.
“Now THAT would be expensive.”

Use Your Words is one of my favourite challenges!
Each of us participants submits words.
And our intrepid leader, Karen re-distributes those words.
To hi-jinx and hilarity!
My words this month were: cabin ~ edge ~ leakage ~ pantyhose ~ specific
And were generously donated to me, through Karen, by my amazing friend, Rena of https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog
Thank you, Rena! This was SO MUCH FUN!
 

Now go and see what the other participants have created!

Baking In A Tornado 

Wandering Web Designer  

Climaxed 

The Crazy Mama Llama

Part-time Working Hockey Mom