by Ronn Fryer
Unable to contain a smile, she stripped down and stepped out of her uniform. No way could she fault the kit for peeing on her now – after all, it was basically tit for tat. Her trip to the laundromat wasn’t due for days, but the kitchen sink was big enough for a prewash. Thank goodness they’d issued her a spare uniform.
Chapter 5 – Solution in Hand
Even though the worst was over, Olivia felt more than a little shaky. Fearing that she might black out and fall, she made her way to the kitchen, bracing herself against the wall. The idea of studying the mirror, further examining the damage to her face had no appeal whatsoever.
Extremely lightheaded, she plopped down at the table and stared vacantly at her little hippie purse laying open beside the shoebox. She would have gladly traded its contents, all $6.57, for a chance to sneak into bed and pull the covers over her head. Nothing takes the bounce out of your step quite like a sucker punch from a football player. With barely enough strength to keep her head up, she certainly wasn’t about to trek back to the tower. All dedication aside, at that moment she could have let every tree in Michigan go up in smoke.
Ignoring acres of canopy wasn’t the problem though. The fire danger was pretty low today, the biggest wind gusts barely shook the tree branches outside her window. The problem was the commotion inside the box. The kits desperately needed nutrition and they weren’t shy about letting her know.
Reluctantly facing the inevitable, Olivia slowly stood up.
After a cautionary step, she decided that the floor wasn’t actually floating. Hesitating only a moment longer, she ventured across the kitchen floor to the fridge. Even though she only used milk in her coffee and an occasional bowl of cereal, the carton felt dangerously light. Their bellies were small though, hopefully the quarter inch left in the bottom would suffice. Once she heated it up to room temperature, however, the challenge would be to get it down their tiny gullets.
Her first attempt failed miserably. Trying to pour the thick liquid into the first one’s open mouth simply wasted a precious spoonful. The kit gagged, spitting out a bubbly mess. It quickly became obvious that whatever method she used, the kits had to have control. Instinctively, their throats knew how much, and how fast, they could swallow.
Olivia found herself desperately wishing for an eyedropper. Idle wishes, however, wouldn’t produce a damn thing. Mentally running through a series of possibilities, she tried to think of something she could use to dab milk along their toothless gums. The contents of her little cabin, however, were pathetically sparse. She hadn’t managed to collect much beyond the absolute basics, and her present anxiety hardly fostered any creativity.
Cradling the more insistent of the two kits in her open palm, Olivia was nearly overcome with frustration when she felt a tug on the fold of skin in the crotch between her thumb and index finger. The ravenous kit was suckling it for all he was worth. Ironically, she was just about to rinse her hands, but providence evidently knew better.
Eager to capitalize on opportunity, she tilted her hand slightly downward and poured a little rivulet of milk just above the kit’s mouth. Even without a nipple, it worked like a charm.
Chapter 6 – Rockabilly Reelin’
Olivia had no idea she’d fallen asleep until tiny cries pulled her back to reality. Seemed she’d just been staring wistfully out the kitchen window. No telling how long the kits had been whining. She vaguely remembered a crying baby in some weird, surrealistic dream. Her curiosity tried to recapture the details, but it was no use. All aspects of the dream had vanished, simply leaving her to deal with a shoebox full of need. This mother thing could get old real fast.
Unable to stifle a second yawn, Olivia rubbed her eyes and quickly flinched. Although it felt a million times better, her whole face was tender and the residual pain from her nose wasn’t about to be ignored any more than the hungry members of her newly extended family.
Resigned to obligation, she lifted her head from the table and attempted to stand. An old Elvis song instantly echoed in her brain, “My legs are shaky and my knees are weak. Can’t seem to stand on my own two feet.” The dizziness was certainly understandable, resetting your own nose, then falling asleep in a hard wooden chair tends to take a toll. Nevertheless, she’d convinced herself there wasn’t any real cause for concern – concussions only came from the most severe head traumas; car crashes or something even more unthinkable like falling out of a fire tower. No matter how hard she’d been hit, she’d never heard of a punching bag getting a concussion. Besides, a concussion was out of the question, her new responsibilities simply would not allow it.
Holding onto the back of the chair, she steadied herself and waited for her head to clear. Within the better part of a minute she felt confident enough to head to the fridge.
Once there, she opened the door, peeked into the milk carton, and swore. After last night’s feeding there was barely more than a spoonful left coating the bottom. Hopefully, it would be enough to satiate them until she could more. No matter how desperately she needed a shower, the steamy water would have to postpone working its magic until the kits were fed. Still, even though she didn’t begrudge their needs, Olivia couldn’t help but languish over how much sleep and long hot showers were underrated.
Be that as it may, there was no escaping that fact that she was the kits sole salvation – if she neglected them – they died, it was just that simple. As she fed them, she thought about all the animals she’d ever seen flattened along the roadside. It never occurred to her just how many babies were consequently stranded, left alone to perish; pathetically dying of starvation. Already emotionally drained, the thought did little to lift her spirits.
With tears welling up in her eyes, she reached for the truck keys, and swore nothing of the sort would ever happen to her kits. They’d never suffer from lack of nourishment, or – unconditional love.
Chapter 7 – Home Sweet Home
Olivia had only started working up in the tower a mere nine days before the assault. Painfully shy to begin with, the encounter all but turned her into a complete recluse. Although sometimes overcome with loneliness, she could nevertheless do without any more small-town hospitality.
On the day she’d first arrived at the ranger station in Oscoda, they’d greeted her as if she’d stepped out of a spaceship instead of a Greyhound. Without any perfunctory smiles or handshakes, they merely sat her down with a stack of paperwork, a pen that wouldn’t write, a binder full of rules and responsibilities, and two sets of uniforms in a rough proximity of her size.
After that, she was promptly ignored.
The bus ride north had been long and uncomfortable. She hadn’t eaten any breakfast that morning, and by two-thirty her stomach was making some truly strange noises.
An hour later and ten minutes later, a man who introduced himself as her supervisor, led her to a green forest F150 where she climbed in the passenger side and waited as he lit up. Although she was allergic to cigarette smoke, she didn’t protest. According to what she’d just read, the practice was strictly forbidden in company vehicles – reminding him of the regulations, however, would hardly boost her popularity.
As they drove west on F-41, they passed a big air base on the left with a row of jumbo jets parked on the runway while an inland lake hugged the road on the other side. Impressive as the planes were, Olivia preferred to view the water. She was curious about the lake’s name, but didn’t venture to break their silence. Her supervisor hadn’t asked about her trip or offer any pleasantries, so she simply sat quietly, watching the scenic shoreline.
A few miles farther, they turned onto Rea Road, where they circled around the back of the base. As the truck swept around a winding curve, Olivia thought of one of her favorite books. Only this time, she was the stranger in a strange land.
Rather than veer off on where Rea turned left, they continued straight on Bissonette Road, going up a decent-sized hill. Heavily wooded on both sides of the blacktop, it seemed like the perfect habitat for de
er. Spotting one would have brightened her day considerably, although she couldn’t help but wonder about the likelihood of dangerous creatures, like bears in the area.
Once they reached the top of the hill, her supervisor turned onto a bumpy two-track that led to the fire tower. Olivia marveled at her first glimpse of the high steel structure. Although she secretly shuddered at the thought of climbing up to the little box at the top, she did her best to appear confident. They were probably already taking bets on how long she’d last, but she hadn’t come all this way just to priss out.
As she glimpsed the narrow steel rungs fastened to the structure that amounted to the ladder, she drew in a deep breath. The idea of climbing up was unnerving, to say the least. Today, however, it seemed they were just doing a quick tour. After summoning up all her courage, she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
Shifting the truck into reverse, her supervisor grunted, “Well, there she is.” Without another word, he spun the wheel, threw the vehicle into drive and started back down the little dirt road. Evidently that was to be the extent of today’s orientation.
Back on Bissonette, they slipped down the same hill and turned onto another dirt road just before the juncture of Rea Road. This short two-track took them to the austere little cabin where she was to live, by herself, in the woods. Okay, Olivia lectured herself, ‘you can do this.’
While she stood in the doorway of the rustic knotty pine structure – holding uniforms, employee’s manual, thrift-store suitcase, backpack, and purse – her supervisor busied himself turning on the power and water. Without bothering to find a hose, he burped the hot water heater, leaving a rusty puddle on the cement floor. Then, with a nod of his head, he walked over to her and shoved keys into what amounted to her free hand, and declared, “I’ll meet you at the tower tomorrow for training.”
He did not offer a word of encouragement or a time when he’d return. Clearly eager to get back, he stepped outside, wiped the sole of his boot on a clump of grass and headed back to the truck.
Alone inside, Olivia took in the cabin’s stark interior. Despite a sudden stinging in her eyes, she fought off the impulse to cry. There was no turning back now, this was her new home – she’d make it cozy, somehow. She set her things down on the kitchen table and went to the sink. When she twisted the spigot’s handle, air gurgled, pipes rattled, and a stream of murky water burst from the corroded faucet. After a full sixty seconds, however, it began to run noticeably clearer.
The ancient refrigerator’s hum was annoying, but at least it was working. As she was about to discover though, its contents were every bit as empty as the cupboards. Opening the cabinets over the sink, she felt an instant affinity for Mother Hubbard. As the grimy puddle from the water heater slowly spread across the floor, she gazed at the empty paper towel holder, and frowned.
Feeling an intense sense of depression rising, Olivia plopped down at the kitchen table. It would have to wait. She hadn’t had anything to eat today and she was famished. The tower was located on Seven Mile Hill, assumedly referring to its distance from Oscoda. That meant a round trip would be a little too ambitious for the dilapidated vehicle that came with the cabin.
So, without any real alternative, she bit her lip and reached for her purse. Pulling out the wrinkled area map she’d obtained from the ranger station, she grabbed her new keys. Evidently, there was a small tourist community down Rea Road, just south of the Foote dam. Hopefully, there’d be some kind of store there.
Chapter 8 – Birth of a Friendship
Working as a cashier at a combination gas station/grocery store, in a village of barely a hundred residents is a great way to develop job skills such as how to deal with acute, agonizing boredom. On a good day, Tina resisted the urge to slit her wrists.
Just as she was eyeing the razor blades, a strange, new customer entered Ruthie’s. Snowmobilers and ice fishermen were long gone and the first tourists weren’t due for a couple of weeks, the only way things could have been any slower is if time simply stopped. In the ten months, two weeks, and three days since she’d started working here, Tina had learned all the regulars by heart, not to mention their names, expected arrival time, and individual purchasing habits.
This customer stood out though, not just because she was an obvious first-timer – it was the way she entered; visibly awkward and uncomfortable.
“Good morning,” Tina chirped.
“Oh, um hey,” Olivia replied, as if apologizing for the intrusion.
A dozen steps in, the new forest worker stopped and surveyed the interior of the little store. There wasn’t much to see. It was hardly a big-box store. Here, your choices were pretty simple – beyond the major sellers; beer, wine, and chips – there was fishing tackle, grocery staples, and t-shirts spouting the latest clever sayings. Basically, if you’ve seen any mom and pop (minus the pop), convenience store, you’ve pretty much seen them all, Ruthie’s definitely included.
Nevertheless, the girl seemed genuinely lost.
“Can I help you?” Tina inquired sweetly.
Mentally surveying her cabin’s empty cupboards, Olivia answered, “Ummm, yeah, guess I need a few things.”
Tina thought the girl’s self-conscious smile was absolutely charming.
Thus, with this simple exchange, their friendship had begun; the depth of which neither could have ever imagined. Evidently quirky encounters sometimes possessed secret powers. Before long, it would have been nearly impossible for either girl to imagine life before they’d met. Any belief in Buddhism’s tenet of reincarnation would have insisted that the girls had been closely related in a past life. Even if Tina’s boredom and Olivia’s vulnerability accounted for its expediency, their connection seemed truly destined from the start. In a matter of days, Tina’s Le Sabre had memorized the path between Livvy’s cabin and Ruthie’s.
Less than enamored with her present career choice, Teans thought spotting fires from a lookout tower was fascinating and strangely exotic – something she might come across perusing one of her travel magazines. The stack of her glossy escapism publications beneath the counter seemed to be growing exponentially. She might be temporarily confined to the dingy interior of small-time commerce, but hope beckoned from pages filled with dazzling panoramas of faraway destinations.
Olivia, on the other hand, was convinced she could travel the whole world and never find someone as wonderful as the girl she’d met here, six miles from nowhere.
Chapter 9 – Shock and Awe
Although Olivia’s appearance had quickly become a welcomed sight, Tina was completely unprepared for its condition when the girl walked in the day after the assault. It looked like the girl had taken a face-plant from the tower rungs. The moment she saw her friend’s battered face, Tina freaked out. “Oh my God! What happened?”
Olivia had come for milk, not sympathy, but there was simply no hiding a swollen nose and two raccoon eyes. Livvy would have gladly avoided contact with anyone, even her new friend, but she had no choice. Her babies were hungry and she could hardly wear a mask. Truth, of course, she really could use a little compassion.
“Would you believe a door?” Olivia offered, lips pursed somewhat comically.
The customer that Tina had been ringing up turned to examine the atrocity behind him. Olivia instinctively turned away. She wasn’t about to offer her misfortune for anyone’s amusement. Regardless what the cutesy slogans might suggest, she was finding it pretty damn hard to view strangers as friends you just haven’t met. Experience told her they were often potential adversaries, likely as not to do her harm. Her face was proof enough.
Rather than allow herself to be gawked at, Olivia headed straight for the standup cooler.
Ruthie’s inventory was obviously limited. If you were the least bit picky, Oscoda was six miles east on River Road. Choices here were simple. Milk for instance, was available by the quart or the half gallon. Olivia opened the glass door and reached for a quart.
The moment the patr
on collected his change, Tina slipped out from behind the counter and confronted her friend. “Okay, hon, talk to me.”
Olivia recounted the horrible episode in two short sentences while her friend stared at her incredulously. There was no doubting the veracity of her story, Livvy was hardly a drama queen and the condition of her eyes offered more than enough proof. Tina’s only challenge was dealing with emotions that ping-ponged between shock and anger. What kind of a sick bastard punched a girl for trying to save the life of a defenseless creature?
Overtaken with compassion, Tina collected her friend into a massive hug.
Olivia flinched.
The cashier didn’t take offense, her new, best friend had experienced some serious trauma. Clearly, her face had been battered. The girl’s ribs could likely have been injured too.
“Oh sorry,” Tina apologized, “You’re probably still pretty sore.”
“Ahhh, no,” Olivia explained, rather discreetly, “They’re just still so fragile.”
“They..?”
After a quick glance at the door, making sure the customer had gone, Livvy lifted the flap of her left shirt pocket.
Tina peeked into the opening, spying a furry lump the size of a chipmunk. “Ohhh,” she cooed. “It’s hers? A real baby fox?”
“Yep,” Olivia assured her, “They both are, unless vixens are somehow capable of giving birth to another species.”
“Both?”
Olivia lightly touched her other pocket, adding, “Twins.”
Tina took in Livvy’s expression, a prouder mom you couldn’t imagine. Adorable as the babies were, however, Tina couldn’t get past the beating her new friend had endured. Olivia’s face looked awful – anyone capable of doing this should be strung up, and not by his neck! Another customer entered. Seemingly a browser, emitting the distinct impression of a busybody with nothing better to do, she eyed Olivia as if the girl was on sale. Livvy instinctively turned her back, simultaneously closing the pocket’s flap. Maybe the lady was just curious, filled with nothing but good intentions. Olivia, however, knew all about good intentions. Beyond Tina, no one needed to know anything about the kits.