May. 4

5/4/2026 1:00 am Correspondence 227

A late one, a real late one. I just finshihed kinda my last assignment, kinda. Blame procrastination. Wanna see it. It's a short story. Here it is: 

Turkey Head Loop

A singular motion-activated security camera stood watch at the mouth of a lonely hiking trail in Daltan, NC. A sign pinned to the post below read in small print, “Turkey Head Loop. Open Sun-up to Sun-down.” 

It was indeed after sundown.

 The security camera was in a deep slumber. It had only been stirred awake after hours twice in its whole career: once, capturing a small black bear that mosied on by, and the second time, capturing two earthy adults trying to slip away from a good night out. 

Both of those times, an alert was sent to the police station a good 15 miles away, and in both cases, an unlucky beat cop got the scare of their life. 

Tonight was different, though. For the third time ever, the security camera sensed motion and *clicked* on, and a silent alert was sent. If you were actually watching its grayscale footage at 2:42 AM, you would have seen a lonely red sedan pull into the parking lot. The camera followed teh car as it drove past the “Staff Only” spot, then the “Handicap” spot, before finally pulling into a label-less spot. 

The driver snorted a stifled laugh as he shifted into park. I can’t believe they still have the handicap spot, he thought. Kim had been here once before, about a year ago, back when he was on the day shift. He was on the job when the dispatcher called in a “fall case” about halfway down Turkey Head Loop. He was just an EMT then. The patient was an elderly man who saw the handicap spot and expected a paved walking trail. But Turkey Loop wasn’t paved. It was, and still is, a wild, jagged trail that can give anyone trouble. The elderly man, reliant on his cane, hit one nasty rock and crashed into the dirt. When Kim arrived with the stretcher, he found him cursing “that damned spot” and clutching his broken leg.  

In the back of the ambulance, he swore to sue the park. He said it with enough damnation that Kim had believed him. 

But it had been a year now, and he had heard nothing more. 

He heard stories from those old-timer paramedics all about “The Curse Turkey Loop”. They all had been dispatched there for a similar incident sometime in their careers, too. A wild, unkempt trail, known for the fact that no one could trust the path under their feet. Barley anyone went, even when it was sun-up to sun-down. This was perfect for Kim, though. He needed an empty location that would test him and his new toy.

You see, six months ago, Kim became a paramedic, a promotion that landed him back on the nightshift. It’s a job he loves, in a time slot he doesn’t mind too much. His biggest problem with the position, though, is not the work itself, but his time off. He can’t stand it. Mostly because he is the only one he knows who’s up between the hours of 12 am and 5 am. What do you do when the world's asleep?  A question he, until recently, has answered by watching old TV and playing stale video games. A month ago, that changed. After a particularly bad night trapped in his house, he ended up getting recommended on his phone, “The best hobbyist night vision goggles YOU can own!” Kim was hooked. The idea planted itself in his head as one monument, and became a towering pine the next. He could live life unaffected by the night sky if all he had were a pair of military-grade night vision goggles.

“Or more accurately, a night vision monocular,” as he would explain to his daytime friends. “Don’t you guys see, why waste all that time I have in the middle of the night. I could be using it. I could go for a walk, a hike, a run; Hell, if I get a waterproof setup, I could even go for a nightly swim. 

Unaffected by his friends' rolled eyes and dismissive responses, he continued explaining his plan to whoever would listen up until the day he saved enough money to buy the monocular piece and headmount. Just the one that he had seen in all the articles and videos. It was the real deal, really expensive too. Almost a whole paycheck. 

But that was then; Right now, Kim excitedly bounds out of his car and throws open the door to his back seat. Leaned particularly against the back passenger seat, and buckled in, sits an impractical metal case. Right where Kim had left it. Unbuckling the seatbelt, he slides the case toward him and clicks the two metallic latches that hold it closed. The case opened slowly, revealing an ornate and technological eyepiece. 

Watching from the security camera, you might have been convinced you were watching a scene from James Bond. If this wasn’t Daltan, NC, that is. 

That didn’t matter to Kim, though, for he was James Bond, and no one could tell him differently.  After admiring his infatuation for a while, he finished assembling the other parts of the monocular system. He grabbed his helmet from a plastic tub on the floor of the back seat. He clicked in the eyepiece, then set a counterweight on the other side. 

Last from the tub, after a breath of doubt, he fished out a crewed brown leather bag, slightly bigger than his hand. He unzipped its scheme and shakily pulled out a small handgun. 

This was unlike Kim. He had never taken his gun out of that case. It was his fathers and fathers before him, or so he is told. It’s the only gun he owns, and never hopes to use. In his line of work, Kim has seen the terrible things a gun can do, and that has made him more or less hate the things. But while he was planning this night out, he had left the news on. After hearing the stories of killers and crooks, he decided that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have something out there with me in the woods. So he slipped the gun in his pocket and placed the helmet on his head. 

His setup looked like it was made for war, and by wearing it, he looked like he was, too. Looking at himself in the side-view mirror of the car, he was filled with a dual sense of excitement and trepidation. Frankly, he thought he looked badass. At the same time, though, there was a side of him that couldn't get past the irony. A man who spends most nights saving lives, dressing up for war on his night off. It made the air feel a little cooler to him. 

After looking away from the small mirror, he took a deep breath, and he slid the monocular down over his eye. The first thing he thought was, This sure isn’t like the movies. Peering through the green lens, he saw the rows of trees previously hidden by the night. The monocular cut off his peripheral vision, obscuring the small details just as much as it brightened his surroundings. 

Nonetheless, he began to walk, passing by the post that carried the security camera and watched him like a hawk. As he passed, he read the sign, shocked at how well he was able to make it out. Sun up to sun down, huh? Well, I hope no one minds. 

The trail was more or less how he remembered it from a year ago. Just like when he was carrying the stretcher, he was constantly watching the ground, trying not to misstep or trip. This didn’t bother him, though, for he appreciated the challenge and was navigating it well. He was determined to overcome the Curse of Turkey Head, and he felt good doing it. He felt good to breathe in fresh air. Felt good to move freely. Felt good to be out. To live like a normal person, on their own schedule. The moonlight felt so good on his skin. 

This, until he was ¾ of the way through the loop. He started to hear a noise. Not the regular, slightly unsettling yet beautiful sounds of the forest he had been listening to for the last 45 minutes. It was man-made. It was the rumble of a car, rolling on loose gravel, traversing the lot at the beginning of the trail. Kim’s mind flashed with uneasy feelings. The last thing he wanted was to run into someone out here. 

What sane person goes on a walk at 4 AM? He wondered, forgetting about himself. He listened, frozen, waiting for some other sound of recognition. That's when he saw white sploches through his goggles, stretching to the trees near the head of the loop. He tilted up his eyepiece and revealed to himself the red and blue flashing lights that climbed the trees. A sinking feeling started to consume Kim. Well, at least it’s not an axe murderer, he tried to convince himself. 

Kim wasn’t a fan of cops. He had seen too many bad ones in his line of work. Too many hot-headed control freaks who take pleasure in making this difficult. Too many times, he almost lost a patient because an officer didn't want to do paperwork. A fifth of the calls he gets are checking out suspects who a cop injured in the line of duty. 

It was at that moment that the old handgun started to feel heavy in his pocket. A fear started to consume his mind, spurred on by experiences both lived and heard. Shit.  Not wanting trouble and not thinking he did anything wrong, Kim thought the best course of action was to face the music and just talk calmly to the officer. He thought that if he just explained his situation to the officer, everything would be fine. First responder to first responder. He took his helmet off and started to walk. 

He got about 5 steps in the darkness before he almost faceplanted. He couldn’t see a thing without the goggles, and he didn’t bring a flashlight. Not wanting to end up injured, he put his helmet back on and tilted down the eye piece.  

As he approached, he got a better look at the police car. The vehicle basically glowed when viewed through his goggles. Hidden by the shadow, Kim spied on the subject. There was a single officer in the vehicle, a man about 40. A man who looked like he took too much pride in his job. At the moment, he sat in his patrol car, eyeing Kim's car with suspicion. He was saying something into a walkie-talkie, but Kim was never any good at reading lips.  

Through all of Kim's experiences with the police, he knew one thing: don’t spook them. He didn’t plan on it; All he wanted was to get back in his car and drive off. His mission was successful. His new toy worked great; He could navigate a trail at night.  Proof of concept and inner peace achieved. 

So he started to step out of the trees, walking loudly and waving his arms, trying his best to be seen. His plan was this: first, get his attention; second, calmly let the officer know that he has a gun and not to panic; third, explain that he is just a paramedic on a night off, testing out his new gadget. An easy, simple, calm plan. 

After a few painful minutes of flailing, the cop finally looked over. 

Collin had pulled up to the lot about 10 minutes early, pissed off at being sent on a goose chase. The station told him that the security camera at Terkey Head Loop had tripped.  “Terkey Head Loop? Who the fuck goes there?” he responded, station. 

When he saw the red sedan in the parking lot, though, his attitude turned on a dime. Drugs, sex, murder, cults? His mind raced with possibilities of strange happenings out in the middle of the woods, and he unbuttoned the clip on his holster and radioed in the car. It was about then that he saw him. A man, probably mid-20s, walking like Bigfoot, waving his hands like a panicked traffic controller, wearing something stupid on his head. 

Collin eyed the suspect with a burning look and stepped out of the car. “What the hell are you doing out here, kid?”

“Good evening, officer. If I could-

“Good evening?  It’s nearly 4 AM! My mama used to say nothing good ever happens after 12. And what the hell is on your head? ”

Kim was paralyzed with anxiety, fear, and a knauing awkwardness. Regardless, he tried to stick with his plane. Step one, getting his attention, was complete. Now was the time for step two, informing him about the gun. The words sadly got lost in his head. 

“I understand, sir. I have a gun.”

Collin choked on his own spit. Is this a threat? Is this a joke? Without thinking, Collen drew his gun and pointed it at this miscreant. 

“Put your hands on your head and get on our knees. NOW!”

Kim complied. What else could he have done? 

“Excuse me, officer, can I at least take my helmet off?” 

“Did I say out could?” shot back in an instant. 

As he started to sink to the ground, Kim watched through his monocle as the figure of the cop approached him. Through the lens, he seemed to simply grow taller and taller, gun still raised at his head. Kim tried to close his eyes, but the image was already burned into his head.

If you were looking from that lonely security camera, and nobody was,  you would have watched as a cop's foot caught in a root. You would have looked on as his body was thrown forward with almost amazing speed and force. You would have seen as his body came down hard on top of his suspects, crushing his helmet and night vision monocle as he landed. You would have witnessed that the camera's final moments, as in a moment of pure rage, someone fired their gun in the air, hitting the camera and destroying it forever. It was never replaced.

Goodnight, 

Calvin Landreth