I also picked up a book there. Hiking Glacier and Waterton Lakes National Parks. It says it covers over 850 miles of trails. I think I’ll be busy.
Tomorrow the three of us are going for a drive around Flathead Lake and stop for a picnic. Looked at it on a map. It is huge! Richard says we should rent a boat and have the picnic on the lake. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
Annie closed her computer, but she wasn’t tired. She peeked out the door again. The firelight still bounced off the trees. She slipped on her jacket, grabbed her new flashlight, and went out. Five paces from the door she stopped because the flashlight wouldn’t turn on. Irritated, she shook it and then banged it against the palm of her hand. It popped on and then off. She banged it again and it fell apart. The top containing the lens fell to the ground. She caught the batteries.
“Cheap piece of junk!”
“I think you should get this,” Mary had said. “It is so pretty, wouldn’t you say?”
Annie remembered considering a 3-cell Maglite and then putting it down because she didn’t want to hurt Mary’s feelings. She also didn’t think she’d have much use for a flashlight anyway, except to walk to and from the nightly campfires.
In the light cast from the cabin porch, she found the top of the flashlight and put it all back together. It didn’t come on. She tightened the top and then loosened it a half turn until it suddenly lit up her hand.
“Cheap piece of junk!”
Annie walked into the circle surrounding the fire pit, circled around Brad and sat down to face him across the fire. He continued to study the flames. Neither spoke.
When Annie couldn’t stand the silence any longer she said, “I’ve been waiting for my Boston Omelet all week.”
Without looking at her he said, “There are no mashed potatoes.”
Annie started to get up, and then settled back down again. “I liked you better as a jerk.”
She waited but he said nothing.
“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like jerks, but at least you were interesting from a spectator’s point of view. What happened? Did your puppy die?”
“I don’t have a puppy?”
“I don’t mean a literal puppy. ‘Did your puppy die?’ is an idiom.”
“An idiom.”
“Sorry. You backwoods Montana boys probably don’t know what an idiom is. I’m not literally thinking that you had a puppy that died. It’s a way of asking if something terrible has happened in your life to turn you from a jerk to a depressed bump on a log.”
Brad rose to his feet, doffed his hat and said, “Idiom . . . M plus seven back to you, Miss.” With that he walked away.
Annie remained seated for some time, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands, trying to figure out what had just transpired. “M plus seven back to you?” she said at the fire. “He’s still a jerk, and weird, or he’s a dictionary short of a full library.”
It was 3:12, according to her bedside clock, when Annie awoke having to pee. Go spend a penny, she thought with a smile. She padded down the stairs, took care of her business, padded back up and returned to the warmth of the blankets. Her mind drifted for a while over the short scene at the fire pit, and then suddenly discovered a possible meaning to Brad’s strange statement. “Idiom . . . M plus seven back to you, Miss.” She sat up, said the alphabet out loud starting with M, at the same time counting with her fingers. That changes idiom to . . .
“Son-of-a-bitch! He called me an idiot!”
Chapter 15
June 4, 2007
Annie stared at the plate that Brad placed in front of her. “This isn’t pancakes.”
“It’s your Boston Omelet, Miss. We got mashed potatoes.”
“I’m not Miss; I’m Annie. And I ordered pancakes.”
“You ordered a Boston Omelet, Miss Annie.”
“That was a week ago, Mister Brad, and this isn’t an omelet. This looks like a potato patty with green onions.”
“Not potato patty; Boston omelet. Not green onions; Scallions.”
“I don’t like green onions. Where’s the egg? Is that the yellow stuff?”
“The yellow stuff is the egg yoke. The white stuff is the egg white and potato. The green stuff is the scallions. Pick them out if you don’t like them. The rest of the stuff is salt, pepper, butter, and lemon juice. Can’t pick them out if you don’t like them. Would you like some coffee stuff with that or will you just have the orange stuff?”
Annie picked off several pieces of scallion. “I’ll stick with the orange stuff, thank you. Do you happen to have any ketchup stuff?”
“Ketchup?”
“Yeah, ketchup, to drown out the taste of this non-omelet stuff.”
“Don’t judge the taste by the chef, Miss Annie.”
“Can’t think of an idiom, Mister Brad, so you have to make one up?”
“Only if it can get your panties in a knot.”
“Why the big chip on your shoulder?”
“Seems like you’re having a bad hair day.”
“You can’t outrun me big boy, even if you did spend all night boning up.”
“You’re just being sour grapes after I stumped you with M plus seven.”
“You didn’t stump me. You called me an idiot.”
“I can run circles around you until the cows come home.”
Annie glared at him.
“Run out of steam? Ketchup’s on the table.” With that he turned and walked out.
“Hey! Don’t walk away from me. We’re not done yet. You’re a sheep in wolf’s clothing.” She looked down at her plate. “This is like a pig in a poke.” She looked at Mary and then Richard, both of whom were laughing. “What’s so funny? I bet he doesn’t know that one.” She pushed her fork through the omelet. “This is a pig in a poke right here, this potato patty he’s trying to pass off as an omelet.” She took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “Where the hell did he get his cooking license anyway? Out of a box of Cheerios I’ll bet.” She took another bite, chewed and added, “Make no bones about it.” She swallowed. “It ticks me off to admit it.” She pointed her fork at Mary. “That’s an idiom, too, by-the-way.” She pointed the fork at her plate. “This isn’t too bad, even without ketchup.”
“Well, I agree, dear,” Mary said. “It doesn’t look like an omelet.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
Annie looked around the dining room. She, Mary and Richard were alone. Ruth had come and gone before the incident with Brad. “Who? Richard? Yeah, I like Richard, but he’s too old for me. Besides, I think he’s taken.”
Richard pushed his chair back. “Before you ladies go to fists over me, I’m going to take my coffee and leave you to talk privately.”
“Okay, dear,” Mary said. To Annie she said, “My William was kind of like Brad. He had a way of getting under girls’ skin by being a little abrasive. They’d hate him and love him at the same time.”
“I don’t love Brad.” She used excessive force to cut another bite. “Don’t even go there.”
“Of course you don’t. You hardly know him. But at some level, you like him. He’s interesting and he’s exciting. Young girls like that in a guy. He’s also good looking.”
“He’s a jerk.”
“Goes without saying, which by the way, is also an idiom.”
Annie unsuccessfully tried not to smile.
“Though I think jerk might be a bit strong. What does jerk mean anyway?” They ate for a while, and then Mary said, “So what happened that he stumped you?”
“That was last night and he didn’t stump me. He spat a cryptic puzzle at me and then slunk away. I didn’t solve it until about three this morning when I suddenly realized he’d called me an idiot.”
“You were with him last night?”
“With him? No! I saw him at the fire after everyone else had turned in and I talked to him for a few minutes. That’s it! There’s no ‘with him’ going on here.”
“I’m not defensive. I’m just telling it the way it is.”
“He’s getting under your skin.”
“Is not.” Annie went to take another bite of her Boston omelet and ended up staring at an empty plate in surprise. Yes, Brad was getting under her skin, but not in the way that Mary was implying. There was something about him that was different, and she was curious to understand what it was.
Annie considered turning Mary and Richard down on the trip around Flathead Lake, afraid that Mary would continue hounding her about Brad. By the middle of the day she was glad that she didn’t. The subject of Brad never came up, and instead of going around the lake, Richard rented a boat and they got on the lake.
After dropping anchor near Bird Island, Annie dared them to go for a swim with her. Not taking the dare, Mary and Richard were content to watch as Annie dove into the water. It was too cold to stay in long but she had to do it to say she did. She also couldn’t back down on her own dare. Afterwards they lounged in the sun with cold fried chicken and potato salad followed by apple pie for desert. It ended up being a glorious day.
On the way back through Bigfork Annie spotted a sports store and asked Richard to stop so she could purchase a handheld GPS. The reason she gave them was for hiking around Glacier Park. She fell short of saying anything about the coordinates her grandfather gave her. She wanted to make sense of the mystery on her own before sharing it with anyone. A feeling in her gut had her fearing it had something to do with the meeting at Professor Grae’s house, though she couldn’t imagine how.
She picked out a Garmin and spent the rest of the trip back to Grizzly Ranch sitting in the backseat reading the instructions and fiddling with the buttons. At one point she announced, “You’re going fifty-seven miles an hour. This is using satellites to measure our groundspeed.”
“You’re kidding,” Richard called back.
“Nope. You just slowed down. Now you’re doing fifty-four.”
“What do I need a speedometer for if we’ve got you in the backseat?”
“Beats me? I feel like a little kid again. Oh! Bathroom Daddy. Got to go spend a penny now.”
“Really?”
Annie peeked around the seat at him. “No. Wanted to see if you’d stop.”
“Funny. What else does that thing tell you?”
“We’re at 3,090 feet above sea level and you’re heading due north. I think I like this thing. Now you’re going northeast, and you’re speeding.”
“Who invited her?” he said to Mary.
“You did, dear.”
Annie laughed and sat back. She watched the little two-inch screen as he turned west onto Highway 2, crossed the Flathead River, and entered Columbia Falls. Then she remembered the true reason she purchased the GPS. She closed her eyes for a second and brought up her grandfather’s email in her mind’s eye, captured the coordinates and then entered them into the GPS. Just as she finished a window appeared displaying the message, “Searching for satellites.”
“Well, damn!”
“What’s the matter, dear?” Mary asked.
“It says that I lost satellites. I wonder if this is going to be like my cell phone? Get into the wilderness and you lose reception. What good is it then?” She turned it off and sat back, content to watch the scenery as they drove north out of Columbia Falls on North Fork Road.
My dear Tony,
It was a wonderful day. Went on a picnic on Flathead Lake with Mary and Richard. Even went swimming, but the water was cold. I love Mary and Richard. I liked them the moment I met them the night I arrived here. They are so happily married, kind of like what you and I talked about being someday. It is odd, though. Even when they were talking their loving talk to each other that first night, I saw something else. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Now I realize that what I saw is the same thing I’ve seen in Professor Grae and my dad, even a little in Grandfather Hair. The sad-happy. They are happy but they will forever be surrounded by a bubble treated with a glaze of sadness. Grae lost his wife. Dad lost his wife, my mother. Grandfather lost his daughter and his wife. Mary and Richard lost their son.
Annie looked away from her monitor and remembered the day a Marine officer paid her a visit to inform her that her husband had been killed. She wiped her tears away with her shirt sleeve and blinked a couple of times so she could see the words on her screen.
And I lost you.
I am not at the sad-happy yet, though I can sense it coming. Sometimes I want to fight it, push the happiness away, because I don’t want to forget about you. I don’t want to cheat your memory.
She saved the file and then set the computer aside and stood, wiping away more tears. She picked up her jacket and stepped outside. As she pushed her arms through the sleeves she inhaled and looked up into the night sky. The moon had not yet risen, but the stars were numerous beyond belief, growing in numbers as her eyes adjusted. She tried to find shapes, brought up various ones in her mind’s eye, but couldn’t identify a single one. She knew so little about the cosmos having been more interested in subatomic particles, quantum physics and the like. After a time she looked over at the back of the lodge. There was one light on in one of the rooms on the upper floor, and a yard light shown over the campfire area. All else was dark. She took another deep breath and returned to her journal inside the cabin.
Brad attended the story telling again as his normal self, that is if eating charred marshmallows and grinning into the night could be considered normal. This time I watched him. There were new people at the fire, a thirty something couple with a boy who spent most of his time playing a handheld digital game. Brad was watching them in the same way he watched me the night I arrived. I know there isn’t enough data to form a conclusion but I’m beginning to suspect that there is something wrong with him.
I know. You’d tell me that wrong is not the correct word, that I must be politically correct. Fine. He is different. ADD, ADHD, Autistic, one of those conditions so many children seem to have. How does it affect them when they become adults? Other than what I’ve seen in movies I don’t know anything about those things. How accurate do movies portray them? Anyway, I’ve decided to make him a mini research project. I’ve already made some assumptions but I think I need to throw all that out, or at least shelve them. And then I need to look at only the facts.
He’s never said very much, until this morning. Could it be he is simply shy and quiet until you get to know him, or when he is in settings where he feels comfortable, such as on his own turf in the kitchen? When he does talk he is quick and to the point, but flat. Nothing wasted. You remember how Beth and I got into idiom battles? Beth was good but I could always outlast her because of my so-called photographic memory. Brad, however, blew me away this morning, leaving me flustered and babbling in front of Mary and Richard. At first I was worried that Mary was right, that I was forming some kind of affection for Brad. Don’t worry, Tony; that is not the case. I abhor the idea. He flustered me because he beat me, and then walked away before I had a chance to defend myself.
You know me. I’m not used to being beaten. I don’t like it.
Anyhow, back to Brad’s problem. That’s what it is. He has a problem. Now that I think about it, how can I do research when I don’t have access to resources? No well-stocked library. No high-speed Internet. I’ll just observe him and make notes, keep you updated.
Enough for now. I love you. Annie.
She closed the computer and placed it on the table. She still wasn’t tired. She considered going into the lodge and looking through their library of tattered paperbacks, but all they had was fiction and she really wasn’t a fiction reader. She wanted something with meat, something interesting. Maybe tomorrow she’d go into town and find a bookstore; look for books on the cosmos. That might be fun.
She started to pull off her jacket and then spotted the
GPS receiver. She turned it on and then stepped outside. The instructions that came with it said that there are twenty-seven satellites orbiting at 11,000 miles above earth, twenty-four active and three spares. That means that there should be little reason not to get a signal anywhere in the world. It did say that you couldn’t get a signal inside buildings and often not inside automobiles. Maybe that was the reason it lost the satellites when she was sitting in the back of Richard’s car.
She looked down at the receiver. Sure enough, six satellites had locked on and it said it had an accuracy of twenty feet. She didn’t know if that was good or bad, but it didn’t make much difference. All she was doing was what Grandfather Hair asked. She had already put in the coordinates. Now she just needed to bring it back up and see what it meant.
She fumbled through the buttons until she figured it out and then stared at the results. Whatever this was, it was located .16 miles away on a bearing of 138°.
Chapter 16
June 5, 2007
Annie peered into the dark along the line of the GPS compass pointer, trying to understand why he told her to do this. What could possibly be at this spot that he would want her to see? Is it a historical landmark, like Custer’s Last Stand or the spot where Meriwether Lewis said something famous? Did either of those even come close to here? She didn’t think so. She quickly did the math in her head and concluded that .16 miles was 845 feet. Less than three football fields.
This is what Grandfather Hair was always good at. He’d spark her curiosity about something—sometimes it’d be by making a false statement—and then walk away knowing she’d dig until she was satisfied. He did that to her when she was nine years old by declaring that the atom was made up of protons, neutrons, and electrons, and that they were the smallest particles in existence. She suspected a trap, that he was purposefully saying something false, but she didn’t know enough to argue, though she tried. “Prove me wrong,” he had said. It took her nearly a week sifting through books that any normal nine-year old couldn’t begin to fathom, nor care about, and wrote a paper that did in fact prove him wrong.
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