by PJ Eiden
“We’ll see.”
”Albert when I get the boat turned, let the anchor down and tie it off short.”
Warren introduced the business of fishing. “All right, Hank, this is a cane pole. Albert has a cork float tied to the line. The sinker and hook will hang down in the water below the float. All we need to do is to reach in the worm pail and thread one of those wriggly red devils on the hook before you swing it out there next to the weed line in the lake.”
Hank took the twelve-foot long pole from Warren. He watched carefully as Warren prepared his own bait and tossed the rig into the water. Hank fumbled with the fishing hook until he got a grip on it between his thumb and forefinger. He reached his free hand down into the moist black soil and got hold of a squirming earthworm. He got it threaded on the hook and swung the baited line out in the lake where it landed with a soft plunk.
“It’s peaceful here.”
“Yes, city folks seem to notice the sounds of nature right away. Outside of the daily train whistle, we hear the loons calling and the occasional wolf after sunset.” Warren didn’t waste any time landing a couple of sunfish.
Albert raised his cane pole. “I’ve got a good one!” He wrestled with the blue-green fish before he brought it to hand. The fish scales shimmered in the sunshine as he added it to the wire basket lashed to the side of the boat.
“All right, your turn, Hank.”
Hank cast his line.
“So Hank, what makes a city guy like you take a trip alone to the north woods?” Warren quizzed.
“I guess I’m looking for peace and quiet.”
Warren noticed the fish bite. “Hey Hank, your float is down!”
“What?”
“You’ve got a fish on the line. Lift the rod and bring it in.”
Hank raised the cane pole. The fish wanted nothing to do with a trip to the boat. He raised the pole with more force. The cane bowed from the weight.
Albert yelled, “Whoa! You’ve got something bigger than a sunfish!”
The fish ran hard toward the right. Warren pulled his own gear out of the way and scrambled for the landing net. Hank’s line rose to the surface as an angry bass shook his way out of the water and splashed back down in the lake.
Hank had never seen a battle like this. “Wow!”
The fish powered its way to the left and fought hard before Hank maneuvered it in alongside the boat. As Warren slipped the net beneath the fish, it broke the surface again and sent a spray of water into the boat.
Hank leaned forward to help Warren pull the fish in. Something caught Albert’s eye. The boy looked again into Hank’s gaping suit jacket and saw the handle of a holstered pistol. As Hank leaned back and took his seat again, the pistol disappeared.
Albert was silent. He felt trapped in the boat with an armed man sitting between him and his father.
Warren beamed. “Wow, what a fish Hank. Great job keeping it on the line.”
Hank used a cloth to wipe the water off his face and dab his coat.
“Albert, swing the basket in here, please, and we’ll add this beauty to our catch.”
Albert looked down into the water. He couldn’t get his mind off what he had seen. Was Hank some sort of lawman or was he a criminal? He untied the cord for the fish basket and slid the loose end along the side of the boat. Hank took it from him.
Warren spoke up. “Albert, has the cat got your tongue? Hank, I think my son might be a spoilsport for being out fished by a new guest.”
As soon as the boat reached the shore, Albert jumped onto the dock and went straight to the lodge without a word. He took the main stairs and locked himself in his room. On his path through the dining area, Harriet noticed her son’s pale face.
She followed and knocked softly on his door. “Albert, please open up. Are you all right?” There was no response. “If you feel ill, maybe I can bring you aspirin or a bottle of Bubble Up for your stomach.”
Albert finally unlocked the door.
“Albert, what is wrong?”
He opened the door and pulled his mother inside the room. He shut the door behind her and locked the handle.
“Albert, what is it?”
Albert thought about his words. He worried it would scare her. But he knew what he saw in the boat was real. He couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mother, Hank’s got a gun!”
Harriet took a step back and covered her mouth with both hands. Her son never played pranks. “What are you saying?”
Before Albert could respond, she asked another question. “Where is your father now?”
Albert knew this would alarm his mother, but she had to know. “He’s still down at the lake with Hank.”
“Oh my gosh! Is he OK?”
Albert shrugged his shoulders. “I think so. Hank is carrying the gun under his coat.”
Harriet was beside herself. “How do you know?”
“I saw it when we were fishing in the boat.”
Her face turned ruby red and her lips pursed into a white knot. “Did he point it at you or your dad?”
“No, we were just fishing.”
“Does your father know he’s got a gun?”
“I don’t think so. Dad was in a pretty good mood when we were out in the boat. He didn’t seem concerned about anything.”
“Go get your father right now. But if Hank’s still around, don’t say anything about the gun. Tell your dad, I need to see him right away.” She reached out and put a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Will you be OK, or are you too scared?”
Albert was afraid, but he wanted to help his mother. “I can do it.”
Harriet’s mind raced for options of how they might get rid of the dangerous guest.
Warren appeared moments later with Albert at his side. They went back to the kitchen area.
Harriet took Warren by the arm. “Did Albert tell you Hank had a gun out in the boat today?”
Warren froze for a moment. “No, he didn’t.”
Warren turned to look at his son. “I never saw any guns. Albert, is this why you got so quiet out there?”
Albert nodded.
Warren’s pulse quickened. “Hank needs to leave right now!”
“I’ve got to confront him.” Warren turned around with his hand over his mouth. He scanned the walls and corners of the kitchen for anything he could use such as an ax for splitting wood, or an oversized kitchen knife. There was nothing threatening.
“Harriet, go find Kate. You and the kids stay upstairs for a while until I’ve sent him away.”
Harriet pleaded, “Warren just wait a minute first. Let’s talk about this. Albert, go to your room for now until your father and I can decide what to do.”
Albert headed toward the stairs up to the living quarters.
“Warren, what’s going to happen when you confront Hank?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I’ll make it clear he isn’t welcome anymore.”
“Has he threatened you or Albert?”
Warren saw the concerned look on Harriet’s face. “No, he hasn’t.
“Why do you think he carries a gun? What sort of man is he?”
Warren shrugged. “Well, I don’t think he’s any sort of law man.”
“What if this makes him mad? Could he hurt us?”
“We are a long way from the sheriff.”
“Is this why he rented two cabins? I mean, is he trying to hide here?”
Warren took a moment. “Maybe.”
Harriet walked around the kitchen. “This might sound crazy, but are we safer letting him stay than calling for the sheriff?”
Warren ran his hands through his gray hair. “I sure don’t want any trouble.”
“Warren, let’s wait a minute before you stomp over there to confront him. There’s nowhere he can really go tonight. Maybe
we should sleep on it. If we still feel the same way in the morning, we can send him off on the train. “
Hank heard the rumble coming up the forest drive right at dusk. The black bumper and chrome grill led a cloud of dust rolling off the truck wheels. Harriet met the farm truck at the back of the lodge. She took the delivery of honey, milk, and cream. After the brief stop, Hank watched the truck head back down the driveway. The corner of a freight tarp flapped loose revealing a load of sealed wooden crates.
Harriet was busy preparing the evening snack. An unexpected male voice coming from the back entrance spoiled the calm. “If you don’t mind me asking, is a local dairy farm delivering the milk?”
Startled, Harriet jumped. “Hank, I didn’t hear you come in. You shouldn’t be back here. I’ll bring the chocolates and marshmallow treats to the campfire.”
“Harriet, I have a question.”
“What is it you want to know?”
He repeated, “Does a local dairy farm deliver the milk?”
Her pulse rate was still elevated. “Yes, sort of. Three Brothers Farms is located south of here, a couple hour’s drive. We are on the last of their delivery stops. We’ve bought from them the past few seasons.”
“It seems unusual they deliver this late in the evening.”
“They changed to this schedule in the last year or so. I assume they switched to evenings so they can keep things cooler.”
The sun was well up in the morning sky when Warren crossed the small meadow and disappeared into the faded red barn. He swung one side of the pair of large doors open and rolled out a rotary-reel lawn clipper. He placed a short chunk of log flat on its end for a makeshift workbench. Warren set the base of the mower on the stump and used wrenches and a hammer to disassemble the frame. He drew the rough grit belt back and forth over the mower’s edge to restore the sharpness.
Hank hiked out of the trees when he heard the hammer near the barn. He crossed the meadow. “Warren, did you have a farm here?”
Warren turned abruptly at the sound of Hank’s voice. He thought about the plan he and Harriet had settled on to not report Hank to the sheriff as the best way to keep the family safe.
“No, this property used to be a farmstead long before I bought it. I turned the old house into the lodge. This barn is the last remnant of those days. It came with the forty acres. I still use it for a fix-it shop, parking our Studebaker family car, and winter boat storage.”
Albert rode his bicycle up the drive next to the barn. He made a large swing around the two men and pulled in next to his dad. “Mom needs help with the cook stove. The pipe is blocked again.”
Hank knew Albert didn’t like being around him, so he walked over to the lean-to shelter on the side of the barn. He lifted a tattered green tarp and asked, “What sort of wreck are you hiding back here?” The old car had flat tires and was missing a door and a front fender.
Albert was short. “We’re going to repair it. Someday soon, I’ll learn to drive and go wherever I want.”
Hank laughed. “Does the engine in this old heap even run?” He shook his head. “Even if it does, these old cars were pretty slow.”
Warren weighed in. “Speed isn’t too important around here, Hank. We’ll get it going for Albert. It needs a few parts. I want to teach Albert some basic things about being a mechanic.”
Warren grabbed some tools and headed for the lodge. Albert jumped on his bicycle and followed along.
Warren removed screws from the stovepipe sections and began to scour the soot away with a wire brush.
“Warren, you looked like you were on a mission this morning.”
“Yes, dear. I’m getting some things done around here, so I can go out fishing with Hank.”
Harriet’s face turned sour. “Really?”
“Hold on a minute before you worry. We’ll take the canoe this time as I won’t force Albert to sit in the same boat with him again. Hank and I need to get straight on some things if he’s going to stay around here any longer.”
“Keep your cool with him out there. We’ve still got to think about our safety.” She wrung her hands. “Warren, at the same time, I have to admit, I like to have both cabins rented. Lord knows we can use the boost.”
Warren took the back seat in the canoe, so he could steer. He made small talk while paddling out to the island. Pulling in close to the shaded shoreline, Warren eased the anchor into the water without a splash. The summer air was filled with the fresh scent from the thick grove of pines on the island. He picked up the fishing rods, then decided to set them aside for a while.
“Hank, there are a few things we need to talk about.”
Hank twisted on the canoe seat and turned his head back toward Warren.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re scaring the family and maybe the few other guests we have coming lately, too.”
Hank closed his eyes for a moment. “How? Warren, I promise I haven’t done anything to them.”
Warren took a deep breath. “It all began when Albert saw the gun you had with you in the boat. He saw it under your jacket when the three of us were fishing. He’s been scared to death of you ever since.”
Hank faced ahead again and looked at a brood of ducklings dabbling along the shoreline. He looked back over his shoulder once more. “Oh, now I understand. One minute Albert and I were getting along fine, the next I noticed he wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Harriet is worried, too. She can’t stand the thought of guns. She’s read all the headlines in the newspapers over the last few years and is deathly afraid of them.”
“Just so you know, Warren, I carry protection with me wherever I go. I’m not out to harm anyone.”
“I talked it over with Harriet. Your story is a mystery here and I assume you prefer things this way. If you want to stay, some things must change. Unless you want someone to call the local sheriff, you must blend in with the tourists. Right now, we’re afraid people won’t stay here long if they’re uncomfortable around you. Summers are short, and the lodge struggles to show a profit.
“I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but you can’t carry guns around without making people panic. Trust me, this is a peaceful place. There are no threats here. We also don’t want you to do business at the lodge. Otherwise, you got to move along. Are we in any danger with you here?”
Hank thought about his unplanned departure from Chicago. “No. I slipped away when I caught the train, and I chose where to stay. No one dangerous knows where I am. I’ve heard some men in the business have escaped to Wisconsin from time to time because they can drive up there. But your place is well off the map. Your family is safe around me. Maybe even safer.”
“We don’t need an armed guard. This is a peaceful place.”
Hank considered Warren’s requests. “I gotta think about this blend in stuff.”
“All right, I hope I’ve made things pretty clear. Now let me switch subjects and ask you a different kind of question.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“If you don’t mind my curiosity, how do you like it?”
Hank gripped the sides of the canoe and twisted around as far as he could to see Warren’s face. “How do I like what exactly?”
“Sorry, I should have been more specific. How do you like being in the insurance and investment business?”
Hank was surprised by the question. “I thought you said my secrets are supposed to be safe here.”
The two sat silently for a minute.
“Yes, of course, your secrets are safe here. I don’t want to know any details. I’m curious how you like the business.”
“I suppose like anything, the business has its up and downs.” Hank didn’t want to talk about how he felt about murder, bootlegging booze, or his hatred for Al Capone’s thugs. At some level, he knew his decisions twisted him up inside.
“I can understand that.”
“When I married Harriet, I never promised her a castle on a hill. She was raised on a farm where everyone helped to make a living. Rolling up your sleeves was part of daily life. It’s the same way around here. I wouldn’t trade this for anything. At some point, I figured out wealth comes in many forms. For me, happiness comes from being healthy and raising a family.”
Warren handed Hank a fishing pole. “Someday, we’ll get electricity here the same as the big city has along with all the conveniences. But for now, we’ll scrape by all right.”
When Warren finished speaking, Hank tossed his line in the water. “I live in a different place where most men are greedy and impatient. They’ll climb over a pile of bodies to steal someone else’s treasure. The reward doesn’t last for long because soon someone else is climbing over your dead body to take it from you. The business is a wicked, wicked way to make a living. Many men die trying to get rich. I’m trying to escape from being added to the mountain of the dead.”
Warren thought about Hank’s image of greed and desperation. “Is the real reason always about money? Or is there something else they want?”
“While greed seems insatiable, deep down these men act like immature boys trying to see who gets the last word in a dangerous shoving match.”
“Do you ever think about another line of work?”
“Sure. But I have to admit, I’ve been holding a gun in my hand so long I didn’t realize, at some point, it took hold of me.”