Chris Hagen's eyes were on Henry Cowart as soon as he entered Mondo's Restaurant, because Chris was facing the entrance while sitting at a booth. Chris had waited patiently for almost a full half-hour. And even though the two had never met in the flesh before that moment, these two strangers could put each other's name to the right face.
Chris raised his arm to wave at Henry, saying, "Hello, Mr. Cowart?"
With an affable grin, Henry walked over to the booth. Chris stood up, and shook Henry's hand.
"It's great to finally meet you, sir," Chris said.
"Call me Henry, please," Henry said, letting go of Chris' friendly grip.
"All right, cool. Please, sit down, and let's eat." Chris gestured to the seat opposite to where he had been sitting.
Henry took off the hiking backpack he was wearing, placed it on the booth's seat, leaning it against the restaurant's wall beside them. After sitting down, he said to Chris, "I'm sorry about being late. The clock's alarm in the hotel room didn't work this morning."
"That's okay," Chris said, waving his hand. "Your apology is quite unnecessary."
"It's just that I feel bad about it, being that we're doing this thing for your uncle."
"Nah, none of that," Chris told him. "You're here. And the day isn't lost. So let's eat before we do this." Chris beckoned for the waiter to take their order. "You know what you want to eat?"
Henry looked down at the menu laying on the table before him, browsed the burger selection, finding exactly what he wanted right when the waiter got to their table.
When the waiter walked away with their order written on the note pad in one hand, and the menus in the other, Chris asked Henry: "So, you're a vegetarian?"
"No," Henry said, "I'm actually a vegan. Why do you ask? Are you one of those meat-eaters that can't understand how one cannot eat non-living food?"
"Oh no, no," Chris said, almost stuttering in nervousness. "I didn't mean to sound like an ass."
"No, man," Henry said, holding up his hand, and smiling a bit. "I'm just fucking with you. Yes, I'm vegan. And if the cook forgets to not include the cheese in the veggie burger, I'll just scrape it off."
"The thing is that my uncle was extremely health conscious before he left this world," Chris informed. "Years before he died. Even after he got appendicitis like that one actor when he switched to just eating fruits and vegetables way too fast."
"That happens a lot, you know," Henry informed. "People should do the research before becoming a vegan. They've got to ease their body into it."
Henry put up his index finger in front of Chris' face to emphasize what he said next: "It can be dangerous to eat healthy."
Chris let out a cackle loud enough for other patron's in the restaurant to turn and look in his direction. Noticing the slight commotion he caused, Chris immediately covered his mouth. Henry simply giggled.
Ten minutes later their burgers and french fries arrived to the booth. As they ate, neither of them said a word until the plates were empty.
"You know, last night I was wondering," Henry began to say.
"Yes?" Chris asked.
"I was going to text you my question, but felt more comfortable asking you in person."
"Shoot," Chris said. "I'm comfortable answering any of your questions. Just not anything regarding what my social security number is, my credit cards, or passwords."
"And I would expect the same by you, being that we're strangers, Chris. That brings me to exactly what I was wondering. You stated on Twitter that your uncle requested in his will that his ashes be scattered near Doubtful Lake by you, and a complete stranger. Why a complete stranger?"
"I've asked myself the same question, as well as my entire family," Chris said. "The thing is, he and I spent a lot of time together while I grew up. He'd always come around to visit his sister -- my mom -- and he'd hang out with me all the time. He was like a second father to me."
"Oh, I see," Henry said. "He didn't have a family of his own?"
"No, he never succeeded in getting a wife," Chris said. "Though he came close a few times. And to further elaborate on your original question, I think he felt that I didn't get out much, and not have many friends. You know, I have friends. Not many. I don't see them all the time. It's because I am more of a homebody."
"Well, you can now say you have a new friend, Chris," Henry said.
There was a moment of silence as Chris stared at him blankly. He then grinned.
"Time will tell," he said to Henry. "There are no guarantees in life. That's what my uncle taught me, anyways."
"What was your uncle's name, by the way?" Henry asked.
"Oh yeah," Chris said, smiling and shaking his head for a moment. "That's right. I never told you his name. Um, I'll tell you when we get to Doubtful Lake."
"That makes sense," Henry said. "It would do him a better honor."
"Thank you," Chris said.
Chris paid the bill before they both walked outside to the parking lot.
"Want me to follow you to the Cascade Pass Trailhead in my own car?" Henry asked.
"No," Chris replied. "I'll drive us both in my car."
"You've got a nice looking vehicle there," Henry commented as he followed Chris to a white four-door car.
"Thanks. You can put your backpack in the backseat. Hope you got plenty of water in there."
After making himself comfortable in the passenger seat, Henry looked at the backseat as he put on his seatbelt.
"Where's your backpack?" Henry asked.
Chris started the car's engine, and said, "In the trunk."
"Is your uncle's ashes in the trunk too?"
"Yes, in the backpack."
Chris drove his car out of Mondo's Restaurant parking lot, and got onto Cascade River Road going east toward the Trailhead.
A few miles down the road, Chris pointed to a sign that said: Gilbert's Cabin: One Mile.
"You see that?" Chris asked.
"Yeah. It says we're about to pass Gilbert's Cabin. Do you want to stop and see it, or something?"
"No. I've already been up there to see it. I was surprised the place was still in good condition. I learned people volunteered to clear out the shrubbery surrounding the path that leads up to it."
"I'm surprised no one bought the place to live in it," Henry said.
"It's in no condition to be a place of shelter. It has no doors, no glass where the windows are suppose to be. Just a hundred-forty year old cabin with a layer of dirt inside for a floor. Though the fire place still stands right in the middle of the small building. You know, it makes me think."
"Like what?" Henry asked.
"A place that old, that empty," Chris began to say, then his voice faded away to silence.
"What?" Henry asked.
"Huh," Chris uttered.
"I believe you were making some point," Henry reminded.
"Oh, yeah," Chris said, almost as if coming out of a daydream. "Secrets. Even though Gilbert's Cabin is completely empty, it still has its secrets."
They both remained quiet until Chris drove to the end of Cascade River Road where the parking lot for the Cascade Pass Trailhead was. The end of the road for cars was the beginning of the path for hikers.
"There aren't any other cars parked here," Henry observed.
As Chris parked his car nearest to the entrance of the hiking trail, he said, "That's because it's in between holiday seasons right now, and if there is anyone hiking up there now probably took an Uber ride here."
"Wow, I'm shocked there are Uber drivers even out here in the area," Henry said, getting out of the car.
"Uber's everywhere, my man," Chris said, closing the car door, then walking toward the car's trunk. He pressed a button on his car's remote door opener, popping open the trunk, and leaned in to get the backpack with his uncle's ashes inside it.
Henry hung his own backpack over his shoulders, and said, "So, he's really in there, huh?"
Without looking at Henry, Chris said, "Yes. And he will soon repent and finally be at peace." Chris closed the trunk, then headed to the Trailhead hiking path without looking at Henry.
As Henry followed Chris on the hiking trail to their final destination near Doubtful Lake, neither of them said a word until they got to the spot Chris had picked to spread his uncle's ashes. Henry felt it more appropriate to not say anything unless Chris spoke.
When Doubtful Lake came into view, Chris came to a complete stop. Henry stayed a few feet behind him, and thought he'd only stand beside Chris if he requested. For a minute Chris remained unmoved as he gazed at the lake just down the hill to its calm shore.
"Here we are, Uncle Patrick," Chris said, as he took off his backpack, placing it on the ground at his feet. He bend down, zipped open the backpack, and reached inside.
Henry quietly took off his own backpack, placed it on the ground at his feet, then looked around. As far as he could tell, they were the only two people present in the immediate vicinity, along with Uncle Patrick's ashes.
Chris took out the silver urn from the backpack with both hands. He lifted it before his eyes. On the urn's reflective surface he could see Henry getting on one knee beside his backpack.
"Thank you for kneeling, Henry," Chris said into the reflection.
Henry looked up at Chris, and said, "Oh, um, I was just getting some water."
"Well, it's honorable and appropriate you do so, irregardless," Chris said, smiling, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Because I'm grateful you came. A complete stranger as my Uncle Patrick requested."
Chris' gaze went back to Doubtful Lake, and held the urn closer to his chest.
He began to say, "You asked earlier about the reason he requested in his will for a stranger to be present at the spreading of his ashes. It's because he wanted me to ask you to forgive him, if you had it in your heart, that is."
"Forgive him for what?" Henry asked.
Chris heard Henry zipping open his backpack behind him, and the sound of his hands reaching inside it.
"The man in my arms right now was serial killer Patrick Herckman," Chris said, more tears flowing from his eyes. "I didn't know that fact until the trial. The evidence was overwhelming, and he deserved to be put to death two months ago. It destroyed my family. Not as bad as the families of his victims, but destroyed us nonetheless. Decide whether you forgive him, or not in silence as I spread his ashes here at Doubtful Lake. You, Henry Cowart, a complete stranger must fulfill my Uncle's final wishes by simply--"
Chris was interrupted by Henry, who walked up right behind him as he was talking: "My real name's not Henry Cowart, and I'm no stranger to Patrick."
The gun in Henry's gloved hand went off, blasting the bullet into Chris' right temple. Chris fell to the ground, his last heartbeats streaming out the blood from the bullet hole. The urn holding Uncle Patrick's rolled away from Chris' body, the lid open, spilling some of the ashes onto the dirt and rocks of the hiking path.
Henry bent down to place the unregistered handgun into the palm of Chris' limp right hand. He raised back up, turned in a complete circle to observe the quiet, empty area, then looked back down at the dead body of Chris.
"Two lives for the many lives taken by your insane, sick, disgusting dear old Uncle fucking Patrick," Henry said. "Here's a secret for you, stupid. Even though she chose my brother over me, I loved her enough to risk my freedom and avenge her rape, and murder by the hands of that demon."
Before picking up his backpack and heading to the parking lot, Henry grabbed Chris' car keys from the dead man's pocket. After wiping down the passenger side of the car Chris drove, he tossed the keys into the bushes to make it seem like Chris committed suicide while holding his serial killer Uncle's ashes. He then got himself an Uber to drive him straight to the hotel. He was late to the restaurant that morning, because he walked by foot from the hotel instead of driving, so he did not have to go back there for someone to maybe remember his face.
Chris Hagen's body was found a day later. Law Enforcement immediately suspected foul play, but in the attempt of finding the DNA of Chris' possible murderer, they realized that Chris Hagen's own DNA matched semen found inside one of Patrick Herckman's victims after recovering the body five years earlier. Further investigation revealed that skin samples under another female victim's nails were matched to Chris as well. Revealing the secret that he was Patrick Herckman's mysterious family accomplice they had been looking for. The terrible revelation was that the authorities never suspected the nephew, meaning they didn't check everyone.
Henry's secret was safe with what ashes were left near Doubtful Lake.
