by Bill H Myers
“So, are skunk apes real?”
She laughed. “It depends on who you ask. If you ask Dave, the guy who runs the place, he'll swear they're real. He claims to have seen one, and he's not alone.
“Over the years, there have been several reported sightings of ape-like creatures in the Everglades. Most say they are about seven foot tall, resemble apes, and smell like a skunk.
“According to Dave, they smell that way because they sleep in gator dens filled with rotting animal carcasses.”
I nodded and asked her again, “So do you believe skunk apes are real?”
She took a sip of wine before answering. “I believe there are things living in the Glades we don't know about. It's a big place, and it'd be pretty easy to stay hidden if you don't want to be found.”
She set her glass down. “If you want to know more about skunk apes, go check out the museum at the campground office. If Dave's around, he can tell you more about them. Tell him you're with me, and he might even show you his private collection.”
I nodded then asked, “So what about this chickee hut? How is it that we're able to spend the night here?”
She took another sip of her wine and said, “When I pulled in here with the motorhome, I went inside the office and found Dave. I told him about the panthers and how we needed a place to stay.
“He said it was no problem. We could spend the night in one of the chickee huts he rents out to tourists. This one was available, so he gave us this one.”
I looked around. “It's pretty nice. Not at all what I expected when I first saw it. Bob sure likes it.”
He was still sitting on the window sill, looking out over the darkness.
After our meal, we cleared the table and put our scraps back in the bags the food had come in. My plan was to leave them near the door until the morning. But Lori said no.
“You don't leave food scraps out when you're in the Everglades. Too many wild things scrounging around at night. Food near the door will give them a reason to try to get in here.
“There's a metal dumpster down by the bathhouse. Take the bag and dump it there. And take your flashlight, you'll need it.”
It was dark outside and carrying bags of food scraps through the swamp at night was something you probably wouldn't want to do for long. I grabbed the bag and quickly made my way to the metal dumpster. I dropped the bag in and closed the top then headed back to the motorhome.
On the way, I heard what I thought was a gator mating call. It sounded close.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Lori was waiting for me when I got back to the chickee hut. She said, “Walker, let's finish off the wine then talk about what we're going to do the rest of the night.”
She'd turned off most of the lights and moved two of the chairs from the dining table over to the window, near Bob.
She led me over to the chairs and said, “Sit.”
I sat in the one closest to Bob, and she sat on the other.
She held up her wine glass. “Here's to a successful trip.”
I clinked my glass against hers, and we both took a drink.
For a few moments, we sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the Glades. Bob was purring. He liked that we were sitting close.
Lori took another sip of wine and said, “Walker, it's almost over.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Our adventure. It's almost over. Tomorrow we go home.”
I nodded. “You're right. Tomorrow we go home. That'll be nice.”
She set her glass down. “Will you miss me?”
I didn't know how to answer her question. I'd only known her for three days, and while I enjoyed her company, I didn't know if I'd miss her when the trip was over.
I couldn't tell her that, so I said, “Sure I'll miss you. Maybe we can get together for dinner or something after we get back.”
She nodded. “I'd like that.”
I didn't know if she expected me to say something else, so I kept quiet.
After a few minutes, she reached over and put her hand on top of mine. She said, “Here's what I was thinking. We finish off our wine, turn off the light and lay down on the bed. Then we do nothing. Just lay there listening to Bob purr.”
“We just lay there? Nothing else?”
“Walker, you sound disappointed. But the thing is I'm tired. Didn't sleep much last night and had a pretty rough day. In about an hour, I've got to go feed the kittens again.
“So just lying on the bed and doing nothing sounds really good to me. What do you think?”
What I thought probably didn't matter. I was tired too. Lying on the bed and not doing anything would be a lot less complicated than the alternative. So I said, “Sounds good to me. When you get up to feed the kittens, I'll go with you.”
She finished her wine, set her glass on the floor, and walked over to the bed. She pulled off her shoes and lay down. I finished my wine and joined her.
We were both in the bed, lying side by side. Close, but not touching. A few inches of space between us. We didn't talk. We just listened to the sounds of the night.
It was peaceful.
The next thing I remember was Lori pushing my shoulder and whispering. “Walker, someone is outside. Someone is trying to get into the motorhome.”
I rolled over to face her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I heard a car pull up. Then a door close. Then footsteps. Then someone tapping on the door of the motorhome.”
I asked again. “Are you sure? You weren't dreaming?”
“Walker, I'm not dreaming. I heard someone out there. Did you lock the motorhome after your shower?”
I hadn't. It was still unlocked. If someone was trying to get in, they wouldn't have any problem.
I sat up. “Stay here with Bob.”
I pulled on my shoes, grabbed the flashlight and headed for the door.
Chapter Fifty-Six
From behind me, Lori whispered, “You're not going out there alone. I'm going with you.”
She pulled on her shoes and came over to the door where I was standing.
“Can you see anything?”
I shook my head. I couldn't see anything. That part of the campground had no lights, and there was no moon that night. But I could hear something moving around. It could have been a raccoon. Or a gator. Or a person.
Lori could hear it too. She whispered, “What's down there?”
“I don't know. It's too dark to tell. But there is something. I'm going to go see what it is.”
I silently pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the deck. Lori was close behind. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck.
I moved to the railing to get a better view. I was about to switch on the flashlight when a woman's voice from below said, “Doctor Joy? Is that you?”
I aimed the flashlight at the voice. A small figure stood at the door of the motorhome, looking in the window.
When the light hit her, she turned toward us. “Doctor Joy, is that you? It's me, Callie. I need to talk to you.”
Lori stepped out from behind me. “Callie? What are you doing here?”
Shielding her eyes from the flashlight, Callie looked up, trying to locate us.
“Please, I need to talk to you.”
Lori whispered to me, “Go check the motorhome. Make sure she didn't get in. I'll see what she wants. ”
I headed down the stairs with Lori close behind. When we reached ground level, Callie met us. “You're up there? I thought you were in the motorhome.”
Lori shook her head. “It doesn't matter where we are. What are you doing here? How did you find us?”
Callie pointed over her shoulder to an old Dodge minivan. “I've got a tracking antenna in there. We built them in class to track signals from the radio collars on panthers. Since I had it with me, I decided to use it. I figured if I found the panther, I'd find you. I tuned it to FP224's collar and just drove. I wasn't sure I could find you, but I did.”
Lori nodded. “Okay
, now that you've found me, what do you want?”
Callie looked down at her feet then back up to Lori. I could see she was struggling with what she was about to say. Finally, she said, “I want to apologize. I should have known better than to go with Kenny. When he told me you had asked him to search for the kittens, I should have known something was up.
“FWC would never send just one person out on a rescue. They would pull together a team and do an organized search. But Kenny said the reason you had come to his trailer that night was to order him to go out early the next morning to look for the kittens.”
Lori interrupted her. “Kenny told you that I ordered him to go out and find the kittens?”
Callie nodded. “Yes, he said that's why you came to his trailer. He left with you and came back later with the tracking data. He said you ordered him to go out and search for the nest. Isn't that what happened?”
Lori shook her head. “I never told Kenny to search for the kittens. Yes, we needed him to get the tracking data. But we told him we were going to do the search. We never asked him to go with us or to search on his own.”
Callie shook her head. “I should have known better. He said you ordered him to go out before daybreak and search for the kittens. He said he didn't want to but it was an order.
“He said he needed me to go with him so I could help if the kittens were hurt. When he put it that way, I couldn't turn him down.”
Lori nodded. “So you and Kenny went out and found the kittens. Whose idea was it to try to sell them?”
Callie shook her head. “We never planned to sell them. Never even talked about it. Kenny called FWC after we found the kittens and arranged for someone to come get them.
“Isn't that why you and Walker met us in the casino parking lot? Because Kenny called? Didn't FWC send you?”
Lori shook her head. “Callie, Kenny didn't call FWC. He called an animal buyer. He was trying to sell the kittens. He was expecting to meet the buyer in the casino parking lot, not someone from FWC. We found out about the meeting and got there first.”
Callie shook her head. “It's my fault.”
“What do you mean, it's your fault?”
She took a deep breath. “The night before, when I was in Kenny's trailer, I told him I was quitting school because of my Grandpa Carlos.
“He had just lost his job and was about to lose his home. No way could I let that happen, so I planned to quit school and get a job. That's what I told Kenny.
“Maybe that's why he called the animal buyer. So he could help me raise money for Grandpa Carlos.”
Lori shook her head. “What about the pet store? Wasn't it you who got the animal buyer's phone number on the bulletin board?”
Callie reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Here's the number I took from the bulletin board. It's from someone looking to hire an animal groomer. I was hoping to get a job.”
Lori looked at the number. It didn't match the one she had for the animal buyer.
“Doctor Joy, I still can't believe Kenny planned to sell the kittens. When he woke up in the hospital, his first question was, 'Are the kittens safe?' He was more concerned about them than he was about his own health.”
Callie stopped talking. Her voice was hoarse. She was holding back tears. Her face was still red and puffy from the poison ivy, her hair a mess. Her clothes looked slept in. It was hard not to feel sorry for her.
Lori thought for a moment then said, “Tell me more about your grandfather.”
Callie looked up and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “He and Nana Sophia took me in after my parents died. I was just nine. They were living in a trailer park just north of Fort Myers, close to the docks. They didn't have a lot of money, but they made sure I was taken care of.
“Nana Sophia died six years ago, just after I graduated from high school. Papa Carlos took it really hard. They'd been married almost forty years, and he was lost without his Sophia.
“I wanted to stay and take care of him, but he insisted I go to college. He knew I wanted to be a veterinarian and he said he had saved enough money to pay my way.
“He said if I kept my grades up and got a part-time job, I could make it. He wanted me to be the first in his family to go. I enrolled and worked hard to make him proud. I called at least once a week to tell him how I was doing. Once a month I'd drive to Fort Myers to see him.”
“I was there just three weeks ago. He told me how proud he was that I was just one semester away from getting my degree. He never mentioned he was running out of money. If he had, I would have dropped out and gotten a job. I would have taken care of him like he'd taken care of me.”
Callie paused, giving Lori time to ask a question.
“Where's your grandfather living right now?”
Callie wiped a tear from her cheek. “He's living in the same small trailer he raised me in. But only for ten more days. The trailer park has been sold. The new owners are building high rise condos. No more trailer park.
“Papa was head of park maintenance, but with the trailer park soon to be gone, he no longer has a job. Or a place to live.
“I’m going to go see him tomorrow. I might not be able to afford to finish college, but I'm not going to let Papa live on the streets.”
Callie paused a moment then said, “I didn't plan to burden you with this. I just wanted to apologize. I don't want Kenny to get in trouble for trying to help me. If FWC investigates, send them to me, I'll take all the blame.”
Callie turned and started to walk back toward her minivan. Lori stopped her. “Wait. Where are you spending the night?”
Callie pointed to her van. “In there.”
“You're sleeping in your van?”
“Yes, but it's not a problem. I'm used to it. Been doing it for a few weeks to cut down on expenses.”
Lori shook her head. “Callie, don't go just yet. There's something I want to show you in the motorhome.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Lori walked over to the motorhome, opened the door and stepped in. She flipped on the overhead light and came back to the door. Callie and I were still standing outside.
“What are you two waiting for? I need both of you in here.”
I turned to Callie and pointed to the door. “Ladies first.”
She looked at me, confused. “What's in there? Is it safe?”
I nodded. “It's safe. Go on in.”
She stepped up into the motorhome but stopped just inside the door. She turned back and looked at me. She wanted to be sure I was coming in after her.
I was.
Inside, Lori was waiting for us. She pointed to the couch. “Sit there. Both of you. And keep quiet. We don't want to wake her.”
Callie looked at me and whispered, “Wake who?”
I shrugged, pointed to the couch and sat down. Callie sat down beside me, a little too close for comfort. I scooted a few inches away.
It's not that I didn't like Callie. It's just that I knew under her long sleeve shirt she was covered with poison ivy. I didn't want to get any on me.
Callie noticed I'd moved away and she whispered, “Don't worry; I'm not going to touch you. I'm not going to give you poison ivy.”
“Does it still hurt?” I asked.
“Yeah, a little. But not as much as it did yesterday. They gave us cortisone shots at the hospital. That pretty much took care of the pain. Now I just have to use the cream they gave us until the rash goes away.”
She stretched her arm in my direction. “You want to see the blisters?”
I leaned away. “No thanks.”
She pretended to move closer. “You sure? I don't mind showing you.”
I shook my head. “Callie, I don't want to see your blisters. Keep them and your poison ivy on that side of the couch.”
She smiled. It was the first time I'd seen her smile since meeting her.
Our talk about her poison ivy blisters ended when Lori returned from the back bedroom. She was car
rying a cardboard box, which she put on the floor in front of us.
Callie's eyes lit up when she saw what was in the box. She said, “There are three? I thought there were only two.”
Lori nodded. “There are three. Two girls and a boy. Right now, they're all hungry. So here's what I need you to do. There's a box of exam gloves on the kitchen counter. Put on a pair. Then get the feeding bottles out of the sink and wash them while I prepare the formula.”
Callie asked, “Are you sure you want me to help? I wouldn't blame you if you just told me to leave.”
Lori smiled and said, “Look, there are three kittens and three of us. If we each take one, the feeding will go faster. So yes, I want you to help. Start by putting on the gloves.”
Callie understood. Lori didn't want her to leave.
She found the exam gloves and slipped them on. I could tell they hurt as she pulled them over her rash covered hands. But she knew why Lori wanted her to wear them, to keep from spreading poison ivy onto the bottles or the kittens.
With the gloves on, Callie went to the kitchen sink and started rinsing the nursing bottles. Standing beside her, Lori prepared the formula. With the two of them working together, it didn't take long to get the job done.
When all three bottles were ready, Lori placed a nipple on each and turned to me. “Feeding time. Pick your kitten.”
I looked in the box and had to smile as I watched the three kittens climbing over each other, each one trying to reach the top of the pile. Their little mouths were open, trying to suck at invisible nipples.
I reached in and picked up the largest. It was the one Bob had chosen as his friend the day before.
Lori picked up the smallest, leaving just one.
Callie looked into the box but didn't reach for the remaining kitten. She looked at Lori and asked, “Are you sure it's okay? I mean after what I've done, I'm not sure I deserve to hold one.”
Lori said, “Callie, the kitten needs to be fed, and you're going to do it. So pick her up and start feeding.”
Callie picked up the remaining kitten and gently placed it on her chest close to her heart. With her free hand, she picked up one of the nursing bottles and squeezed a drop of formula onto its chin.