Stranded at Romson's Lodge

by J. L. Callison

  “I’m doing well. I slept until almost ten o’clock. You have to let me go back to working, though. I can’t stand being cooped up like this. I’ve already fixed all the things around the house James hasn’t gotten around to fixing. I’m pacing around like a caged tiger. If I don’t have something to do, my mind keeps thinking.”

  Sue laughed. “Doctor Lambert told me almost exactly what you would say. He didn’t know you would be doing things around the house for James, though. You don’t have any chest discomfort? Any shortness of breath?”

  “No. Everything is fine. I think I just was exhausted and overwhelmed. I’m fit as a horse!”

  “Okay, good. The doctor said it would be all right for you to go back to work tomorrow if, and it is a big if, you take it easy. I don’t want you—I mean—the doctor doesn’t want you to overdo yourself. If you feel the first sign of chest discomfort or shortness of breath, you are to call the office immediately. Understood?”

  “Sure. Thanks a lot.”

  “You are to continue taking the sleep aids, though. Don’t quit taking them without checking with us first. You need to get your rest, and at night, when things are quiet, is when the mind tends to wander. They will really help you—I know.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep taking them. Look, you said if I needed to talk about things you were available. Could we get together and talk sometime soon?”

  “Certainly. When would you like to talk?”

  “How about this evening? Could I pick you up after work and take you to dinner? Just someplace quiet so we can talk?”

  “Actually, I’m just leaving the office now, but I have to go pick up my son.”

  “Great! I’ll meet you there in about ten minutes, and we can pick him up and take him with us, if it’s okay with you.”

  Charles threw on a clean shirt, scribbled a short note to the Romsons, and hurried to his car. He felt almost like a schoolboy. As Charles raced to the hospital, guilt suddenly hit him. How could he be happy while Elizabeth was missing?

  CHAPTER 36

  For Jed and Lizzie, June and July, with their long hot days, seemed to pass in a blur of constant work to survive. Much of the newness wore off for Lizzie, and she developed a routine for the day tending to the smoker, fishing with Jed, occasionally going out into the woods and meadows with him to carry back a deer, and learning to use the wood cookstove—although because of the heat, she saved using the stove for rainy days when she couldn’t cook outside. Much of the work was boring and repetitive, and she was alone in the lodge. The time spent fishing with Jed or going out to retrieve a deer became the highlight of her days.

  Lizzie also began carrying any meat scraps to a spot halfway between the lodge and the woods for the dog. “Come and get it. You don’t have to be afraid. Let me pet you,” she would say softly whenever she saw the dog. He seemed to want to be close, but he would never come to her for the scraps, nor would he allow either her or Jed to approach. Instead, he would skulk over to the scraps and gobble them down as soon as Lizzie walked back to the cooking area.

  A number of times when she walked with Jed to pick up a deer, she could see the dog trailing them among the trees as if happy to be close to people but still retaining his freedom. “Come on and walk with us,” she would call out to the dog, but he kept his distance.

  It didn’t take long for Lizzie to understand why women in the early 1900s and before didn’t wash their hair frequently! Carrying hot water in a bucket into their little bathroom and trying to bathe in the little tub was a lot of work, but pride forced her to try to keep herself looking nice, even though there was no one but Jed to notice, and she found she wanted him to notice. Jed pointed out one big difference to her one day when she complained about how hard it was.

  “At least you have a tub with a drain in it. In the old days, they had to carry the water outside to dump it, too.” His smirk was infuriating.

  Lizzie did try bathing in the water coming from the spring once, but it was just too cold.

  It was only in the still of the night that she struggled with homesickness, and an occasional tear would trickle down her cheek. As hard as they worked during the day, she rarely lay awake long enough to get homesick.

  Jed, on the other hand, loved every second of it. Of course, he missed his parents and friends, but the outdoor life, though hard, was enjoyable.

  Three months had now passed. Jed and Lizzie settled into a routine that kept them busy from waking until dark, which came earlier each evening. No longer did they talk about when they would be found. It seemed all they knew was the daily struggle to provide and survive. Life, though, was not without its enjoyments.

  Jed entered the cabin carrying a buckskin shoulder bag made of remnants from making Lizzie’s outfit. She found her buckskin outfit to be durable and quite comfortable once she became accustomed to it. Jed was wearing a similar outfit, but he had to wait a while before making his, as he had to kill and dress the hides of two small bucks. Once he showed Lizzie how to cut and stitch together her outfit using sinews from the deer for thread, she used a pair of his trousers as a pattern and made his pants. The shirt was easier. He cut a hole in the middle for his head, and then Lizzie marked where to cut it for seams on the sides and for sleeves. It wouldn’t be featured in any fashion magazines, but it was comfortable and functional.

  The supplies Pete had left in the lodge were nearly depleted and were used sparingly. Lizzie tried to keep them for something special, and they lived as much as possible off the land. Fish had been relatively abundant, and there was a good supply of dried and smoked fish in the lodge. Jerky had been set aside also.

  Jed kept an eye out for edible plants and herbs when he was out, and Lizzie had learned to find edible plants as well. Cattail grew in abundance close by, and from a survival cookbook Lizzie found in the lodge, she learned to roast the tubers and even to make a sort of flour from them, although it was difficult and time consuming.

  Lizzie adapted well to cooking and even enjoyed it. There were a variety of recipes in the survival cookbook for various game animals, plus it showed her how to make flour not only from cattail tubers, but also from acorns; how to find edible, nutritious roots; and how to find wild herbs and plants, which could be used as seasonings. Turtle soup was her favorite dish.

  She had to admit skunk was not too bad. Initially she rebelled, but Jed said it had already sprayed him, so they might as well use it. Lizzie refused to cook the skunk, so Jed made a stew with some wild onion, wild garlic, wild rice, and cattail pollen. If she hadn’t known what it was, she really would have liked it.

  Jed, of course, smelled for a week!

  Fat was their biggest problem. It seemed they were always hungry because the meat was so lean. Both had lost weight, leaving them lean and strong, but Jed was worried, knowing they needed more fat if they were going to survive winter.

  CHAPTER 37

  James and Mary Romson struggled through each day, trying to maintain a normalcy to their routines, always hoping for some word of Jed. Each day widened the gulf between their memories and their newfound reality. Every other day or so, James touched base with Chief Washington, but of course there was no news to be had.

  Charles’s grief was obvious. At work, he went through the motions, but his heart was not in it. His life’s only bright spot was his growing attachment to Sue Jenson. Sue’s experience, plus her warmth of heart, gave him something to hold onto. Charles looked forward to having dinner with her and her son, Jimmy, a couple of times a week.

  His house no longer seemed like a home but a prison where he was locked away with the memories of his deceased wife and missing daughter. He dreaded going home at night to an empty house that had once been a haven when he was released from the Marine Corps. Now it was just an empty shell where he found himself staring at pictures of Collette and Elizabeth while tears dripped onto, and drenched, his shirt.

  James and Mary did their best to include him at dinner and other activities, but he felt he w
as imposing on their grief.

  Detective Summers was frustrated. In three months there had been no news, nor any new clues, to give her direction in her search. She had other crimes to deal with but found herself going back over this case at night during her off time. Baffled by the impasse, she tried to balance it with her other work, but this case captivated her.

  CHAPTER 38

  Jed emptied his bag into a large bowl on the table. He had picked two quarts of blueberries, which brought a squeal of delight from Lizzie. “I also found a bunch of blackberries. They are really early. Blackberries usually don’t get ripe until later in August. We will need to take some buckets to pick them, though. They would be ruined if I put them in the bag. Some of the blueberries got squashed as it is.”

  Lizzie was excited. “Let’s take a lunch with us and both go picking tomorrow! I would love to have some blackberries, too.”

  “Okay. I had hoped to shoot another buck today, but I didn’t see any. All I found were does, and it’s still too early for them. Their fawns would probably make it alone, but I don’t want to leave an orphan that can’t survive.

  “I did see tracks of a moose, though. From the size of the tracks, it probably weighs nine hundred pounds or so. Don’t really think I want to try dragging one of them home. Anyway, that’s how I found the berries.”

  Lizzie dipped her hand into the bowl of blueberries and popped half a dozen into her mouth. She savored the flavor and sweetness. Their sugar had run out over a month ago, except for a very small amount she had saved, and the sweet blueberry taste was welcome. Jed smiled at her delight, but he had been eating berries as he picked them, so his sweet tooth was somewhat satiated. Lizzie was so easy to please. He thought how lucky he was to be stuck there with her, if he had to be stuck with anyone. He quickly quashed those feelings. This was not the time or place to start getting mushy about a girl.

  “I found a bee tree today, too. I think there is a smoke pot and bellows around here somewhere. If I can find them, we’ll get some honey.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of being stung?”

  “If I smoke them right, we shouldn’t. I’ve watched Dad do it a couple of times, though I’ve not tried it myself. Be nice to have something to sweeten things with. Let’s get some berries tomorrow, and we’ll see about the honey later.”

  “Thanks for bringing me the berries. I’ve been craving something sweet. I found a recipe I hope you like. I thought something different would be good.”

  “Sounds good. What is it?”

  “It’s a fish chowder. I found some wild rice in that little cove south of us, and I used it in the chowder. I’ve got to admit I was a bad girl, though. I took the canoe down there by myself to harvest the rice.”

  Jed started to get angry, and his face flushed.

  “I was careful, Jed. I’ve learned how to handle the canoe, and I wore the life jacket. The water isn’t cold like it was when I fell in before. I didn’t go out into the lake but stayed right by the shore.”

  “It’s still dangerous. What would I do if you drowned? Did you think about that?”

  “Sure, but what about when you go out in the woods all by yourself? What if something happens to you? Don’t you think I worry about that sometimes?”

  “I’ve been doing this since I was a little kid, though. You don’t know what you are doing out there.”

  “Well, thank you! I’ve been paying attention to what you’ve taught me, and I’ve learned how to handle the canoe, plus I read how to harvest the wild rice in a couple of the books here. I think I can take care of myself sometimes. Do you think I want to just stay in the cabin all the time and eat the same old things over and over when there are other things out there if I’ll just go get them? Do you think I’m just a helpless baby?” Lizzie jumped up from the table and ran back to her area and closed the curtain behind her. She only wished she had a door she could slam.

  Jed watched her stomp away and then shook his head, puzzled, before walking out the door to work on treating his latest hide.

  CHAPTER 39

  James Romson resisted the urge to slam down his telephone receiver. Thirty minutes had been wasted arguing with his insurance adjuster over the replacement of Romson Industries’ aircraft. Although it had been ninety plus days since Jed, Lizzie, and Pete had disappeared, along with his airplane, the insurance company dragged its feet. Their excuse was the possibility of his son being complicit in theft of the aircraft, with the implication that James himself was culpable in a conspiracy.

  Although not nearly as nice as the former plane, James found another Beaver available for purchase, but without the insurance money, he didn’t have the funds. His banker wasn’t willing to loan enough to purchase the new plane outright, even on the proviso the insurance would eventually come through. The banker was very apologetic, of course, and blamed the loan committee for their refusal. What it all boiled down to was simple: Romson Industries was grounded.

  Finding a qualified company pilot also proved difficult. Most qualified bush pilots wanted nothing to do with flying from town to town in civilized areas, and few who liked corporate type flying were interested in a propeller-driven aircraft or flying into wilderness areas. The annual goose hunting trip, scheduled for the first and second week in September, had to be cancelled. It was unfortunate because the hunting trip was always a good outreach to buyers from some of the larger sporting goods companies. James checked commercial airline rates, but tickets for two would be as expensive as flying six in the Beaver, plus he would have to lease a float plane and local pilot to ferry them from Presque Isle to the lodge. Flying them to the lodge in a smaller aircraft was just not feasible, and leasing a Beaver and pilot for the time necessary was too expensive.

  CHAPTER 40

  Sue Jenson was busy preparing a dinner of hot dogs and mac and cheese for herself and Jimmy when the doorbell rang. Although it wasn’t late, she did not expect visitors. It was probably one of Jimmy’s friends. Her day had been difficult at work. One of her patients died, and no matter how long she had been nursing, it still hurt to lose a patient, especially a young mother, as this one had been.

  She had come home from work and changed into an old pair of jeans with a knee out and a paint-spattered T-shirt. She wanted comfort, not to impress anyone. She called out to her son, “Jimmy, get the door.”

  She was stirring the cheese sauce into the macaroni when a voice startled her, causing her to flip the spoon into the air and onto the front of her shirt.

  “Well, hey there. Dressing to impress, I see!”

  She spun around to see Charles Sitton standing in her kitchen doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, almost annoyed. She really couldn’t be annoyed with Charles. She had grown quite fond of him and enjoyed the times they had spent together the last few weeks. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  She swept her hand over herself, indicating her attire. Her hair was disheveled since she hadn’t even bothered to straighten it after changing clothes. After all, she thought it was going to be just her and Jimmy and a quiet evening trying to get work out of her mind.

  Charles chuckled. “I kind of gathered that. Jimmy let me in and said you were in the kitchen. You know, I kind of like you this way. You look real.” He flushed as he realized how that could have sounded. “I like you dressed up, too! Don’t get me wrong.”

  Sue dabbed at the cheese sauce on her shirt, ineffectively, with her attention on Charles more than on the cheese.

  “Is something wrong? Did you need something?”

  The grin on his face faded, and his eyes misted over.

  “I just realized it has been three months today since Elizabeth went missing, and I couldn’t stand being in the house alone. I didn’t know anywhere else to go where I wouldn’t be alone in a crowd, so I thought I’d drop in on you and see if you would like to grab some dinner. I really don’t want to eat; I just don’t want to be alone, and . . . and . . . well,
I just don’t have anyone else.” Charles realized he was rambling, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

  Sue sensed his thoughts. Without even thinking, she stepped to the doorway, wrapped her arms around Charles, pulling his head down onto her shoulder, and held him to comfort him. She remembered only too well the feeling of loss when Jimmy was taken away from her. Charles was such a dear, sweet man.

  Suddenly, Sue realized she was holding the spoon in his hair, and cheese sauce was dripping from the spoon down the open collar of Charles’s shirt. She drew back, horrified, and saw cheese smeared on the front of his shirt, from her shirt.

  Her hand flew to her mouth as she exclaimed, “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry! Look what I’ve done to your shirt.”

  Charles was trying unsuccessfully to dig cheese sauce from the inside of his shirt collar where it stuck to his skin. He grinned. “If you didn’t want me to come over you could have said so. You didn’t have to be so ‘saucy’ about it.”

  He chuckled at his pun, but Sue looked at him, confused. She didn’t know what he found so funny, but she wasn’t going to worry about it.

  Quickly dampening a paper towel, she said, “Turn around, and let me see about the sauce in your collar.”

  She couldn’t get to all of it, so Charles slipped off his shirt. Some had gotten onto his T-shirt, but Sue was able to wipe most of it off. “Let me throw your shirt into the washer before it dries and stains. You’d better see about the cheese in your hair.”

  Jimmy came strolling into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom. What’s burning?”

  “Oh, no!” wailed Sue as she snatched the broiler door open to find blackened, shriveled-up hotdogs.