Stranded at Romson's Lodge

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Stranded at Romson's Lodge Page 11

by J. L. Callison


  Charles laughed, walked over to the wall phone, and from memory called and ordered a pizza.

  CHAPTER 41

  Jed and Lizzie left at first light, each of them carrying buckets. The argument of the night before weighed on their minds but was left unspoken.

  The air was brisk, causing Jed to think of the coming of fall and all he needed to accomplish before winter.

  After walking quite some distance in silence, Lizzie finally spoke up. “Jed, I’m sorry about last night. You were right. You told me not to go out in the canoe by myself, but I really wanted that rice for dinner, and you were gone.”

  “I shouldn’t have gotten mad, Lizzie. You scared me. What would I do without you? I know you are doing better with the canoe, but please don’t do that.”

  Lizzie dropped her head for a couple of steps then reached over for Jed’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Are we okay now? I don’t want you mad at me.”

  Jed nodded, finding himself somewhat sheepish all of a sudden. He had trouble speaking for a moment; something was lodged in his throat when he looked into Lizzie’s eyes. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  Lizzie’s smile was dazzling, and she gave Jed’s hand another quick squeeze before dropping it and walking along with him in a comfortable silence.

  Sometime later, with the blackberries nearly in sight, Lizzie spoke up again. “Jed, I was thinking last night. You said you found bees. If we can get enough honey and some honeycomb, I think I could get the beeswax out and use it to cover the fruit we pick. I think I could make some preserves. Do you think we could do that?”

  Jed thought for a few minutes. “I think we probably could get some honey. The biggest thing is to get at it. It’s fairly high up in a tree, and then we have to see if it’s good. This isn’t going to be honey like you buy in the store. It’s wild, and it won’t taste the same.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem. I just don’t know how much I’ll need to make beeswax. I’d like to try it.”

  “All right. Let’s see about picking blackberries today, and maybe we can do something about the honey tomorrow. For today, we’d better hurry. It looks like a storm is building.”

  They hurried toward the patch of blackberries Jed found, mindful of the weather. Hopefully, the rain would hold off long enough for them to pick what they needed.

  On the far side of the copse of trees between them and the blackberries, the old sow bear waded into the thicket with her nearly grown cub behind her. She had a taste for blackberries and needed to gorge herself to prepare for winter. She settled in to stripping the berries, not minding the brambles.

  Jed and Lizzie stepped into the thicket, ready to start picking. The old sow was across the other side of the thicket, busily eating, and paid them no mind. Jed evaluated the situation carefully. Had he been by himself, he would not have been overly concerned, but with Lizzie along he was more cautious. He had his M1 Garand with him, but the last thing he wanted was to have to shoot the bear.

  Whispering, he spoke to Lizzie. “I think we will be okay if we stay on this side of the thicket. She isn’t paying much attention to us. She’s too busy eating. We’ll keep an eye on her, on her cub especially, and get what we can while we’re here.” They quickly started picking berries. Frequently, they would eat a handful as they picked, giving their lips a dark blue tinge to match their fingers. It didn’t take long to fill the smaller buckets, and then pour them into a five-gallon bucket. The old bear paid them no mind, so they continued gathering, looking forward to the treat the berries would provide.

  So intent on picking berries and watching the bear, they forgot about the weather. Suddenly, the sky darkened and a strong gust of wind staggered Lizzie. A flash of light and a sharp crack preceded a loud peal of thunder, and it seemed the sky opened up as the rain poured down. Quickly, they gathered their buckets and scurried toward the tree line just behind the blackberry thicket. Jed knew of a rocky overhang not too far away where he had sheltered from the weather on other occasions. He led the way, trying to shield their berries from the rain the best he could.

  Once they reached the shelter and ducked under the rocky overhang, they were out of the worst of the storm. “We are better off under here than out under the trees. Lightning won’t get to us here. I’ll get a fire going in just a few minutes.”

  Jed slipped out of the shelter and rustled up a couple of handfuls of bark and small twigs and branches from the underside of a fallen tree nearby. He cleared the dried grass and debris from an area and ringed it with small stones. Jed shredded bark and laid on the smallest of twigs before lighting a match and touching it to the shredded bark. Gently, he blew on the glowing bark, bringing a small flame to life, and he soon had a small fire started. Gradually, he put on more small pieces until it was going well enough to put on larger wood. With a hatchet from his belt, he stepped back out into the rain, cut branches from the dead tree, and dragged them under the shelter.

  Lizzie, meanwhile, had been caring for the berries, draining the rainwater out of the buckets as best she could to prevent spoilage. She shivered from the chill and was happy to see the fire grow. Soon, she and Jed huddled over the fire, steaming as they warmed and dried. She squeezed as much of the rain out of her hair as she could and then wrapped it in a bun to keep it up. Lizzie was startled as she realized how little it takes for one to be satisfied and happy. Such a difference from three months ago when all she could think about was getting to her own home and being with her daddy. A warm fire out of the storm, and food and fellowship with someone you really liked, was sufficient. Her eyes widened as she glanced over at Jed, recognizing her growing affection toward him. She said nothing but wondered what he was thinking.

  CHAPTER 42

  Charles Sitton woke up feeling the best he had felt in three months. The time he spent with Sue and Jimmy the night before chased away some of the blues he had been suffering. He smiled, remembering the cheese sauce going down his neck and the confusion that followed. Just because it was not a planned, scripted evening with them dressed up and out in public gave it a much more relaxed, at-home feel. He knew he had developed feelings for Sue, and he thought she had for him as well, although he had not asked. On the one hand, he was excited by what he felt, but on the other, there was a reticence to accept the feelings for what they were, out of memory of his wife.

  Despair over his missing daughter also created mixed feelings bouncing between being happy with Sue and Jimmy and despondent when alone. He wished Elizabeth were there to meet Sue. For over a year, Elizabeth had been after him to date, but he had not met anyone who interested him. Though he knew Elizabeth would hit it off with Sue, he hesitated to make his thoughts and feelings known.

  Doris Goodland, Charles’s secretary, noticed the change in his attitude as soon as Charles walked in the door at work. She had been his secretary for fifteen years and had been with him through the upheaval of the discovery of his wife’s cancer and then the futile struggle to defeat it. The last three years had been difficult for Doris as well. The past three months of turmoil had been particularly hard. She and Charles had a very proper, yet close, relationship, transcending boss-employee. To see Charles with a smile on his face meant a lot. She didn’t know the cause of his happiness, but she hoped it would continue.

  CHAPTER 43

  James Romson’s morning was not going well at all. He and his wife had noted the three-month anniversary, but unlike Charles they had had no positive input. Attitudes around their home had become rather strained. A call to Detective Summers had not gone well. She still had no answers; in fact, she had no leads to follow. As she said, it was as if the earth had swallowed the plane. There were no reports of a Beaver matching their description anywhere. FBOs around the entire country, and even into Canada, had been queried, but nothing matched. As she told James, “‘I don’t know’ means I don’t know.”

  James tried hard to work, but he was glad he had placed Tran in charge because his thoughts kept wandering to Jed
and Elizabeth. The missing airplane was an inconvenience, but what really mattered was the two kids. He would gladly give up the plane to get the kids back. He blamed himself for not giving Pete the money when he asked for it. He couldn’t help feeling it was his fault the kids were missing. Yes, he knew such thinking was pointless and self-defeating, but the thought remained in his head.

  CHAPTER 44

  An hour passed before the thunderstorm settled down to a steady drizzle. Jed and Lizzie decided they would run for it and get back to the cabin to care for the berries.

  As soon as they arrived at the lodge, Jed stripped his rifle down and cleaned it so it would not rust, while Lizzie spread the blackberries on the kitchen table to dry. Between the two of them, they ate quite a few, but over two gallons still remained for Jed to dry. He couldn’t set them out for drying, though, until the rain stopped.

  The storage area was a wreck, but Jed rummaged about until he found the bee smoker and two bee bonnets. If the rain stopped soon, there was a chance they could rob the hive in the afternoon, since he did not want to pick wet berries.

  Lizzie busied herself preparing lunch, trying unsuccessfully to keep her mind from dwelling on Jed. It was funny how she had known him all her life, had been in the same classes from kindergarten all the way through her senior year, but had never thought of him other than as a casual friend. She found herself wanting to do something extra special. After taking a quick look at their greatly diminished supplies, she decided there was just enough flour, sugar, and other ingredients to make a cobbler. She would use some of the blackberries and surprise him. The supplies were saved for something special, and this seemed special enough. Looking outside, she decided Jed was busy and wouldn’t be in for a while. Hurrying to save the surprise, she gathered the ingredients and mixed them together. After putting the cobbler in the oven, Lizzie went into her room to brush her hair and make herself look as nice as she could.

  Jed walked into the lodge with his hands full of bee bonnets and the smoker. The sky had started to lighten, and it seemed as if the rain was tapering off. The idea of fresh honey was appealing. He sniffed, smelling the aroma of something delicious.

  “Hey, Lizzie, what’s cookin’?”

  Lizzie walked from her room with heart fluttering. She had her hair brushed out and down, instead of tied up in a loose bun like she had been wearing it. Her hair had grown long in the last three months and now reached well below her shoulder blades. She noticed it always caught Jed’s eye when she wore it down, although he never said anything. She gathered her hair in her hands and draped it casually over her shoulder for him to notice.

  “Oh, it’s nothing much. I just made a cobbler.”

  Jed’s mouth watered. Due to their diminished supplies, their diet had been bland lately. Their diet was healthy, but there had been very few sweets or baked goods.

  “It smells wonderful!”

  Lizzie felt his eyes on her as she walked past him to go to the oven, but he said nothing else.

  Jed ate his cobbler slowly, savoring the sweetness of each bite, rolling each morsel around on his tongue. “What’s the special occasion? It’s not your birthday or something, is it?”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. I just thought you deserved something special.” Lizzie felt like she had fireworks going off inside as she looked into Jed’s eyes. “You’d better enjoy it, because there is no more sugar.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I am!” With that, he picked up his saucer and licked the remaining juices from the surface, bringing a giggle of delight from Lizzie.

  After polishing the saucer with his tongue, Jed asked if Lizzie would go with him to rob the beehive. The hive was higher in the tree than he could reach from the ground, and he wanted help steadying the ladder. The hive wasn’t terribly high, but he didn’t want to worry about the ladder moving while he was working with bees. Regretfully, Lizzie gathered her hair and wrapped it into a bun, seeing Jed watch out of the corner of her eye. She wondered if he felt for her what she felt for him.

  Jed took coals from the stove for the smoker, then, with Lizzie carrying the bee equipment, walked outside and picked up the short ladder needed to climb the tree. He had difficulty carrying the ladder with his rifle slung over his back while also carrying the smoker. The smoker burned his leg every time he bumped it. Lizzie, on the other hand, had her hands full of the bee bonnets, gloves, and a large bucket. Fortunately, they only had to walk about half a mile to the bee tree.

  “Look up there, just below the fork in the tree. See the shiny spot by that little hole? Watch. You’ll see bees going in and out,” Jed whispered.

  Lizzie saw several bees coming and going in just a few minutes’ time. It was easy to see why the bark was shiny around the hole. Bees landed on the bark and walked into the hole while others crawled out and launched themselves into the air. Thousands of bees had worn the bark smooth. “It’s an old hive,” Jed whispered. He had no idea why he whispered, like he didn’t want the bees to hear him or something. “This tree is probably loaded.”

  Jed leaned the ladder on a branch to the side and a little lower than the bee hole and settled the base carefully in the dirt before he put on long gloves. He had Lizzie tie a string around the tops of the gloves so there was no gap the bees could access and tied other strings around the bottoms of his pants legs. He helped Lizzie do the same, and then both donned bee bonnets and settled them carefully over their heads. After pumping the bellows on the smoker a few times, he was satisfied with the stream of smoke emanating from the contraption.

  “I’ll climb up and smoke them well. Hold the ladder steady, and be ready for me to hand the smoker back down to you.”

  Lizzie nodded and stepped under the ladder where she could grasp it firmly.

  Jed carefully climbed the ladder, burning himself once when the smoker brushed against his leg. He placed the nozzle of the smoker into the entry hole and pumped the bellows several times, injecting smoke deep into the hive. Reaching down, he handed the smoker to Lizzie, saying, “Be careful where you set that. It’s hot!”

  With a hatchet he took from his belt, Jed chopped the hole larger, enough to see inside the tree and to dip out honey. Lizzie handed him the bucket and a long-handled ladle with which he began dipping.

  “I knew it. This whole tree is full!”

  Jed worked rapidly to fill the bucket before the bees came out of their stupor.

  “I doubt we will be able to get any more honey from this hive,” Jed remarked as he carried the five-gallon bucket, nearly full of honey, back to the lodge. “The bees will more than likely find another place and will move the honey. I tried to disturb the hive as little as possible, but since I had to enlarge the opening, I doubt they will stay. We’ll watch and see.” He would come back in a day or so and check. If the bees moved, as he suspected they would, he would recover the ladder, since it was more than he could carry with the bucket of honey. Lizzie carried the smoker and the bee bonnets, and her mouth watered. The honey smelled sweet, and she didn’t think it smelled very wild. Her mind raced with ideas of what she could make with it.

  CHAPTER 45

  For three weeks, Jed and Lizzie worked from “can see to can’t see” to pick and store as many blackberries and blueberries as they possibly could. Jed thought it probable they would over-winter in the lodge, and he was doing all he could to prepare. If they were rescued before winter, it would be wonderful, but if not they had to be prepared. He noted the shorter evenings with misgiving, knowing the long, cold winter nights were pressing closer and closer.

  Although they had been in close proximity to the old she-bear, and she had woofed threateningly at them on a couple of occasions, they had no problems with her. She was more concerned with preparing herself for winter than she was with them. They were cautious around her and especially the nearly-grown cub, careful to give them plenty of space and remain far enough away to not present a threat.

  Smoking and drying fruit had become a full-time jo
b, and Jed left it to Lizzie to accomplish. He was concerned about the lack of firewood he had stockpiled for winter. All of the deadfall wood close to the lodge had been gathered already, so Jed had to go farther, which made a lot of hard work carrying wood back to the lodge.

  There was a chainsaw in the storage shed and a fair supply of gas and oil for the saw, but there was not a power wood splitter available, so he did a lot of work with a sledge and wedges. Lizzie noted, with a little thrill, the added muscle he developed by swinging the sledge.

  Jed had contrived a travois of sorts for dragging loads, but it was still slow, hard, hot work. The rapidly changing leaves added urgency to their work. Frost on the roof in the morning made Jed’s heart lurch.

  When Lizzie finished a gallon of preserves from each of the blueberries and blackberries, and dried and smoked the remainder, she started gathering hazelnuts. Deer and squirrels were devouring them, so she had to hustle to get what they needed.

  Jed carried the hazelnuts to the lodge for her and spread them to dry on the extra bunks. When the husks dried well and the nuts were loosened in the husks, they took turns treading on them in the bottom of a barrel, separating the nuts from the husks.

  “When we get back home, I’ll never complain how hard it is to do things again!” exclaimed Lizzie. “I never realized how much work went into doing things in the old days. My grandmother used to try to tell me how differently we had it than they did, and she didn’t even have to do all of this.”

  “I know. It’s hard to believe people lived like this just a hundred years ago. We have it so easy!”

  CHAPTER 46

  Detective Summers tried hard not to get her hopes up. A report filtered through the grapevine of a float plane landing and taking off from desolate lakes in Minnesota at night. All indications from informants pointed to drug running, with a truck meeting the plane during the night. As of yet, the plane had not been identified, but area farmers’ descriptions matched the missing Beaver, down to the colors and markings.

 

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