Fire and Spark

by Laura Singer

  Chapter 2

  Jenni didn't set the alarm, so she slept late in the morning; she figured Emilia and Lonnie could handle things if any customers came in. She felt like she'd finished off a case of beer, but figured it was just a bad night's sleep. There was light pouring through the window, so she stood at the window a few minutes watching the lake. A trio of loons – most likely two adults and their annual young one – cruised silently on the calm water out by the island. Overhead a string of geese circled, strengthening their wing muscles. Maybe they knew that there would be a lot of hunters in the marshes between them and their winter refuge when the winter came in. and only strong wings could help a goose when the shooting started.

  She made a cup of coffee, then had toast and jam for breakfast. Tanya didn't call.

  She walked past the wooden Muskoka chairs on the way to the office. The beer bottle, only half finished, sat on the table next to the chair Matt had used. She looked around, but didn't see him. Or anybody else, for that matter; for the moment, the world was down to just her and the loons. For a moment, treasuring her privacy, she thought of sitting down in the chair, but it was, of course, covered in morning dew.

  "Good morning, recluse!" Emilia greeted Jenni. "Did you finish off a bottle of rum and now I have to take you to the next AA meeting?"

  Jenni smiled. "I had a fine quiet time watching old cowboy movies on channel 10 and contemplating the universe." It was time to change the subject. "Are you glad to see the sunlight?"

  "Certainly glad the storm wasn't any worse. We'd better check to see if the roof's leaking in cabin 8. Bob left a note about that."

  "I'll check that."

  "Great. We have a couple of fishermen from Pennsylvania coming in about noon, and somebody phoned about rates, so we might get another couple. Matt took off in his canoe about daybreak turned down an offer of breakfast with the gorgeous yours truly. And someone should take a tour of the property just to be sure the storm didn't knock any branches down."

  "I can do that when I check cabin 8." Jenni's urge to be alone was getting stronger.

  Emilia tilted her head. "Well, then." She paused. "I'm really glad you're here. I know we're not the people we used to be, but without you to talk to, I'd be miserable. You know that, don't you?"

  Suddenly, Jenni did. Her mood brightened, and she smiled a real smile. "I'll be back in a jiffy. We can sit on the deck in the sunlight and slander everyone we know and tell each other secrets we've sworn to take to our graves."

  "Sounds like a plan." Emilia hesitated. "Secrets, eh? Maybe so…."

  "Now you've got me worried."

  Emilia waved her out. "Begone with ye, wench." The door opened and the two boys came in, probably angling to offer to trade more minnows for junk food.

  Cabin 8 was one of the newer cabins, but that still meant it had been built before Jenni was born. Jenni walked down the gravel driveway among pines and birches, crossed the little bridge over the creek, and made her way up the steps to the cabin. The steps were stone, set into the hillside. If I owned the place, she decided, I'd put in a handrail. People were getting older, and less steady.

  The cabin was musty, but there were no signs of water. She opened a couple of windows just a bit to provide a bit of air flow without letting in any rain. She made herself a mental note to come back later and close the windows again.

  Before going back to the lodge, she stopped to clean up the cabin Matt had been in. He hadn't left much of an impression. He'd made a breakfast of toast and bacon. Must have bought supplies from the lodge, Jenni figured, since bread and meat weren't normally taken on a canoe trip. She checked the fridge, but it was empty. Maybe, she thought, he knew enough to keep handy only enough for breakfast and to freeze the rest; with a bit of insulation, the food would last at least till the first campsite.

  The flowers were gone. The dishes, including the glass, had been washed and were in the drying tray. She checked around for the asters, but couldn't find them, either in the garbage bin or outside behind the lodge. After cleaning the room. she came back to the lodge office with the sheets in one bag and the mostly empty garbage in another.

  By eleven fifteen Jenni was ready to sit down on the deck with Emilia. They poured themselves a cup of coffee from the Maker of Bad Coffee machine in the office, broke into a package of date squares (“slightly out-of-date squares”, Emilia corrected), and watched invisible winds kick up tiny wavelets on Hawk Lake. The sky was overcast with thin clouds that cut the brightness down a bit, but left enough light that both women wore broad-brimmed hats and sunglasses. They talked about nothing in particular for a while. Jenni wondered what Emilia was debating on telling her. Something, she was sure.

  A great blue heron came in low over the water, skimming the dock as it made a gronking sound like something leftover from the Jurassic. Turning for the marsh, it spread its huge wings to drop onto the shore, then waded in among the lily pads.

  The two boys stopped chasing dock fish with a net and a fishing line just long enough to watch the heron. Their father was obviously out behind some islands or in a bay somewhere. There are worse ways to spend a few boyhood autumn days, Jenni figured, wondering why they weren’t both in school. “You’ve got them hunting for cat food again?” Jenni asked.

  Emilia nodded. “I told them I wanted one larger fish, not two or three minnows. That’ll take them longer.” There was a longer pause, then, “What was your impression of Matt?”

  “How about,” Jenni asked, “we ask ourselves why, when we’ve got a whole world out there, we’re spending our time talking about the one guy we’ve seen in a week who’s in our age range, regardless of his looks, marital status, or possible attraction to little boys or sheep?” It didn’t come out the way she meant it, but that didn’t seem to bother Emilia.

  “It’s natural,” Emilia said. “Like little boys hunting fish off the docks and under trees fallen into the water. Doesn’t matter much about the guy. Can you wonder that travelling salesmen and wagon driver boys ran off with housewives in settlement farms? The infinite charms of novelty and possibility.”

  “And what do you think I think of Matt?”

  “You brought him flowers, Emilia pointed out.

  “Hey! He told you that? Anyway, I just thought the room looked a bit… cold.”

  Obviously, Matt and Emilia had done some talking about her. Perfectly normal, of course, but still…. Jenni would have given a lot to know exactly what was said. Probably agreed she was too quiet and unsociable. Things usually went that way.

  “That’s for sure. I just hope you didn’t set a trend around here. Most of our guests don’t care about flowers. When a woman shows up with a woman, flowers might be a good idea – the poor biddy’s probably been hauled off from the city to a place where the men can fish and the kids can play, and she’ll get to cook and wash.” Emilia laughed.

  “I’m not likely to do it again.” Time to change the subject again. “I wonder how the teens made out; I mean, survived the storm. You think we should call them?”

  Emilia ignored the lead. “You seem to have had a dramatic effect on him.”

  Jenni shook her head and closed her eyes. What world was Emilia in? “Coulda fooled me. Maybe I’ll try one call to the teens.”

  “They’ve got at least two phones. Probably four; you never know. Matt,” – Emilia was like a bloodhound on a trail – “Matt said….”

  Jenni was short on sleep. She just let it hang there.

  “You remember when you had that crush in grade ten on that Graham Frommat boy?”

  “A big one. Heartbreaking at that age.”

  “You remember what you said to him?”

  “Never spoke to him. I’d get all hung up just being anywhere near him.”

  “I had a few like that. Even got drunk enough once to tell one fellow how much I liked him. That was a mistake.”

  “Are we going somewhere with this?” Jenni got a sudden urge to go help the two boys go down and chase
sunfish. Or take a drive into town and buy a coffee and read a newspaper in a café.

  Emilia took her time, watching the lake.

  “Ever had an experience like that as an adult?” Emilia asked.

  Jenni thought about it. “Not in the same way. A bit, sometimes. I can remember a couple of times, but it doesn’t happen like that when you get older. We get more cynical, I guess.”

  “It appears it happens to adults, too, sometimes.”

  Jenni looked carefully at Emilia. “You’ve taken a fancy to this Matt dude? You didn’t seem too tongue tied yesterday.”

  “Not me, you idiot. Matt.”

  “He’s madly in love with you and wants you to run off to his campsite? A meaningful overnight relationship on an air mattress? Two married people under the stars?” Jenni started to giggle.

  “Well, for one thing, he doesn’t have a ring.” Emilia turned to watch Jenni.

  “Some guys don’t like them. Some guys take them off when they leave home. I’m still married to a guy like that. For a week more, anyway. What did he tell you?”

  Emilia observed the sky, which was spreading with mare's tails. “Good try, but it wasn’t me he was interested in.” She looked over and pointed at Jenni.

  Jenni watched Emilia’s face for some kind of a joke. “He sure didn’t show it, you know,” Jenni said.

  “Look,” said Emilia, “I told him I wouldn’t say a word, but so much for promises. He said he met you and was flabbergasted, tongue-tied, mind-blanked, and couldn’t remember his own name.”

  “My legendary beauty, that had to be it. And my famous wit.” Jenni smiled. “You’re making this up, aren’t you. A man wants a camping companion, you’re going to make the list long before I do.”

  “Probably right. But he wasn’t asking about throwing you over his shoulder and paddling away with you. According to him, all he wanted to do was get as far away as he could from the situation, which, I suppose, means you.”

  “Men!” said Jenni.

  “Men!” echoed Emilia. “But you never know; it might even be a compliment.”

  “You ever got such a compliment?”

  Emilia laughed. “Utter devotion and undying love from a guy almost speechless. Sure, but not from anybody sober.”

  “You sure he was sober when he said that?”

  “Oh yeah. I can tell. He was sober. Besides, I searched his garbage for recyclable stuff, and there were no bottles in it. I think that one beer is all he had."

  “Well, I understand that is the sort of thing some guys – like Julio – would say to the innocent young things when I wasn’t around.”

  “He sounded sincere, and I’ve known a lot of liars.”

  Jenni looked at her. “You have?”

  “Every addict is a polished and habitual liar. It’s how they’re made.”

  “Well, that isn’t any better. A guy who latches onto a girl without knowing anything about her is just working his way up to being a stalker.” Jenni went into the lodge and came back with two Diet Pepsis and a big bag of salt-and-vinegar chips. She opened the cans and the bag, and set them between the two. “Stalkers; wasn’t that what we were talking about?”

  “Married stalkers,” Emilia agreed. “But you’ve been so jumpy thinking of Julio showing up; maybe we can get them to fight over you.”

  “Not a solution, if I have to go with the winner. Besides,” Jenni said, “Julio might not be as tall as Matt, but he was always working out and has more muscles than a man needs.”

  “I could get a video and put it on YouTube.”

  “Another besides; I’d be tempted to shoot them both.” She swallowed a large handful of chips then said, “It would be really nice to know a guy who likes me for me, not some version of something in his brain. Had enough of that with Julio.”

  Emilia sighed. “All those years I wanted guys not to know the real me. Seemed safer.”

  “Jack seems to know the real you pretty well.”

  "Let me tell you about men. One of the first things you have to learn is that a frypan can do wonders for adjusting a man's personality, but it doesn't actually improve his intelligence much. Always remember that." She laughed, then changed the subject. “I think you’re right; you should see if you can get those teens on the phone. Just in case.”

  Jenni went into the office, checked the registry, then called the two numbers the four teens had left. Both came back with a “phone disconnected” message. She frowned; it wouldn’t be unnatural for the group to have a no-phone vacation. These were becoming more common, although the usual rule was a half hour in the morning or evening, then the electronics would be turned off. That was about the only sensible way to camp nowadays; otherwise you had a campsite in which everyone was on their iPads or phones, and their brains were back in the city. In a way, Jenni thought allowing a half hour a day was an improvement on the old days when there was no way to get a break from the group except by walking into the woods and hoping you could find your way back.

  But there’d been a storm, and someone’s parents or friends might have been worried about them. Messages might have been sent, so a group leader would probably leave one phone on. Maybe, she thought, they put down phoney numbers, or they had another phone or two. She knew that leaving them alone was the logical thing to do, but she and her father’d once spent a night in a storm, and she remembered the terror as tree limbs fell all around and lightning hit a pine all too close to the tent. She and her father had hung onto the tent as the wind had tried to blow it away.

  She went to look for Lonnie. As usual, his pickup was by the shed, and the shed door was open. She knew he didn’t ever sit around – there were always things to be fixed, or improved, and Lonnie would find those and do the work without being asked. Eventually, she found him, up a ladder leaning against cabin 6. A small branch came down, followed by a few handfuls of mixed pine needles and cones. Then he came down the ladder. “Hi, Jenni” Lonnie said, “can I help you?”

  “I’ve come for your advice.”

  Lonnie adjusted his hat. “In that case, let’s sit. I’m too old to be giving advice standing up.”

  “Oh, you’re not that old.”

  Lonnie squinted sideways. “If you were me when I wake up in the morning or climb a ladder, you’d know how old I feel.” He led the way to a couple of chairs on the tiny veranda of the cottage, and settled in.

  “Lot of branches from the storm?” Jenni asked, politely.

  “Not as many as I thought. But the eaves have to be cleaned in the fall anyway.”

  “Oh,” Jenni said. “With all the pines around, I wouldn’t think fall would be a problem.”

  “Pine trees shed needles in the fall. They shed dead needles all year round, but mostly in the fall. But you didn’t come to hear that.”

  “We had those four people come in yesterday. Two canoes on that Corolla over there.”

  “Okay.” Lonnie put his feet up on the railing.

  “There was that storm.” Jenni looked at Lonnie. He nodded. “I got worried and tried to call them this morning.”

  “No answer?”

  “There was a ‘phone disconnected’ message. From both numbers.”

  “How long ago was that?” Lonnie took his feet down.

  “Twenty minutes ago.”

  “And where did they say they were going?”

  “Ingrey Lake’s what they put in the register.”

  “Well,” Lonnie said. “I can see why you’re worried. That neck of the woods got quite a hit by the storm. Can’t imagine anything that would kill a cell phone, though.” He saw Jenni looking at him. Unless of course, they didn’t get camping and lost them from the canoes.”

  “I wondered about that.”

  Lonnie sighed a long sigh. “Tell you what, I’ll finish this one section of eaves – take me about five minutes, while you try again. If we don’t get them on the phone, we’ll take a boat and one of the canoes. I can drop you off at the portage to Ingrey. I’ll hea
d back, but you can phone me if you find anything wrong.”

  Jenni felt relieved. “Sounds like a plan." She took out her phone.

  “Done.” Lonnie got up and went back to the ladder. Just when he got top, he looked down and saw Jenni at the bottom. “Did you get them?”

  "Phone disconnected. Same message."

  "Well, I guess I can take you up to the end of the lake to have a looksee. I can't wait around, though, so you'd better phone me from Ingrey."

  Jenni didn't leave. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” she asked.

  Lonnie scratched his head, and kept cleaning the eaves with a long pole. “I’ve been around long enough not to be sceptical about everything. I’m a guy. I can’t go to the mall for a new hat without falling in love, with a dozen women before getting home.”

  “I understand about that. I mean something more.”

  “I had a friend claim it happened to him. Married the girl. Seems happy.” He paused.

  “Okay,” Jenni said, about to turn away.

  “Once,” Lonnie said, “I went into the bank to cash a check. New teller. Young enough to be my daughter.” He paused again. “That was before Mae died. I’d have given up everything I owned on the spot to run off with that kid.”

  “What did you do?”

  Lonnie smiled. “Moved my account to a different bank. Told Mae I didn’t like the attitude of the old bank. Never went back there again.”

  “Okay…." Matt's actions started to look a little less bizarre.

  “Don’t know where it came from. She wasn’t any better looking than average, but I was lucky to be able to get out of there without walking into doors and walls.” He shuddered, and looked down. “How’s that?”

  “Thanks, Lonnie.” Jenni headed back to the lodge.

  Emilia was behind the desk, looking at a magazine. "What's up?"

  "Going to see if those kids are okay. Lonnie thought it was a good idea. We'll take the boat and tow a canoe behind up as far as the portage to Ingrey."

  Emilia just snorted. "You're just planning to chase this Matt guy. Probably going to listen to him read his poetry to you."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Emilia took a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. "Found this in his garbage."

  "Just how carefully did you check his garbage, Emilia?"

  "Hey, I told you, I was looking for recyclables. Bottles, cans, paper. The county dump is pretty tight on that sort of thing."

  "Right." Jenni rolled her eyes.

  "Ahem," Emilia said, putting the paper onto the counter, and flattening out some of the wrinkles. Then she read:

  Come and spend this night with me

  There’s ashes on the wind

  In our tiny tent, we'll find

  Where love and time begin

  "Doesn't sound like a poem to Annie," Emilia said. "Annie's obviously already spending her nights with him, and not in his tiny tent."

  "In the first place," Jenni said, annoyed, "you don't know he's not quoting another poem."

  "And in the second place?" Emilia was smiling.

  Jenni didn't feel like smiling at all. "Sounds like lechery at first sight, if you ask me. He wants whoever he's writing to for a one-nighter. We should have suspected that all along. Men have a hard time telling the difference between lust and love. With the problems I had with Julio, I sure don't need any more nutcases after me."

  "Well, it's been a long time, I bet, since you've shared a night with anyone but your cat."

  Jenni was working up to some strong language when she saw that Emilia was just teasing her. She decided that she herself had teased enough people that she should learn to take it. "Well, if I'm not back in a week, go looking for his tent."

  ***