“Well yeah, that was the plan.” There was some hesitancy in his voice, I keyed in on it.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess. You don’t know where she is?”
“Bingo. He’s moved her. Reconnaissance of the address I had shows no one living in the house.”
My thighs were beginning to cramp and my butt was falling asleep from the hard boulder, so I stood up. He stood, too.
I was just about to ask him his name, but then I read it on the white tape sewn above his pocket. “Well, O’Reilly, just how are you going to go about finding her?”
He walked with me around our little area of the park as I listened, asked questions, and threw darts at all his ideas.
He only had her address, which was now a house standing empty. The name of her school wasn’t much help either. They had no forwarding information and apparently the guidance counselor had been alerted that he might inquire after Diana. So there was no help in that corner. O’Reilly knew she had applied to six colleges and been accepted by four, but at the time of their last communication she hadn’t made a decision about which one she planned to attend. Even if he’d known which one, it wasn’t likely she’d show up on any campus until late August. He didn’t know her father’s name, who, as it turned out, was actually her stepfather, so he probably had a different last name altogether. Knowing her name, Diana James, was of little help. There were no accounts in her name, no phone listings in her name, nothing to hone in on, nothing to lead him to her.
Every idea he bounced off of me, I found a hole in, everything I came up with, he had already tried. She had no car; she hadn’t shared her plans with the friends he had contacted; she’d had no job; there were no siblings; there was no trail that he could find. To make matters worse, the Army had closed his military e-mail account with his deployment home, so even if she wanted to, she couldn’t contact him.
As we were walking back to the parking lot, he asked me if I’d like to go to dinner with him. I thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. Why not? I was lonely, and apparently, so was he. We were both sort of involved with others, so clearly it wasn’t a date, and I was intrigued by his problem. Concerned that he was a strange man on his own, I asked to see his military I. D., which pretty much verified everything he had told me. His name was Connor O’Reilly and he was a medic, the military’s equivalent of an E.M.T. He was a corporal in the U.S. Army, fighting for my freedom, the freedom I was just beginning to appreciate.
We agreed to meet at the Mazama Village Registration Center. I was still a little wary of him knowing exactly where I was staying. I didn’t want him coming to my campsite, but since he had a Jeep, it made sense to use his vehicle to get around. He suggested the Lodge at Crater Lake and, as our restaurant options were limited in this wonderful wilderness, I heartily agreed. I had read on the website that they used only fresh Oregon-grown organic foods and that they had a wonderful selection of seafood from the coast, so I was anxious to try it out.
Connor said he would take care of getting a reservation, and we arranged to meet at seven, which would give us plenty of time to get there, and to enjoy a cocktail in the great hall before dinner. We had planned what seemed to be a very romantic evening, but it was obvious that we were both going to be thinking romantically of others. He was steadfastly determined to find his Diana, and I, well, I was waiting until Brick and I were ready for the next step.
I backtracked along the now familiar area of Rim Drive and chugged into the Village smiling at everyone as I wound around the curves to my campsite.
It looked pretty quiet in our little section. The “toad” my neighbors had parked on the spur was gone so I assumed they were off on a day trip somewhere, and I was glad about that. There were certainly more questions than answers about their bizarre behavior and odd guests.
I unlocked my Dolphin and went inside for a cool drink and a warm shower. My Dolphin didn’t have its own washer and dryer but I didn’t mind using the laundromats at the campgrounds when I amassed a pile of dirty clothes. Fortunately, most of my clothes were knit or nylon so I was often able to soak my undergarments and tops in Woolite, and then clip them to a clothesline strung between the trees. I was hanging up my tank top when I heard the neighbor’s car turn into the drive. As I hung the rest of my clothes, mindful to clip my thongs and bras behind a t-shirt for modesty’s sake, I watched as the scholarly duo unloaded bag after bag of groceries. How two people could eat so much was beyond me, but then I remembered that often their “guests” arrived before the dinner hour, and remained until the wee hours of the morning. They must be expecting more teenagers to tutor. In my mind, I had decided they were teachers, and that in order to afford their monstrous motorhome, they spent their summers tutoring. Why late into the night? That part I hadn’t figured out yet.
I was on the bottom step propelling myself upward and into the RV when I had the sensation of stepping on something not quite solid, but not quite soft either. I looked down just in time to see a stumpy lizard scurry out from beneath my sandal. I was stunned for a moment as I realized I had stepped on it. Then I felt something tapping the side of my foot and I screamed. The lizard was gone, but his tail was still on the step, rapidly pulsing back and forth like a metronome gone haywire. I shrieked and bounced backward off the step, mesmerized, as that black appendage twitched and slithered seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was no longer attached to a body. I stood fascinated as my neighbors came up behind me, curious to see what the commotion was about. I was heaving big sobs now. I had murdered a lizard, a rather big one it seemed by the tail that was still flailing on my step.
The man grunted and shrugged, “It’s just a skink. The way you hollered I thought you’d seen a snake.”
The woman sniffed, “He’s going to be a bit unbalanced, but it’ll grow back.”
“What?” I asked unsure what she was talking about. “What’ll grow back?”
“His tail. He’ll get a new one.”
The “old” one was beginning to lose momentum, but it still had quite a bit of life left to it.
I grabbed at the absolution offered, “Really, he’s not going to die, it’ll grow back?”
The man stuck his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels and I could just see him in front of a podium winding up for a two-hour lecture. If he wasn’t a college professor, my name was not . . . what the hell was it this week? Jenny. Yeah, that was it. Then the lecture began.
“Designed to do just that. In nature a lot of things have tails that regenerate. A predator can grab hold of it, but as long as the little critter keeps on moving, he’s not lost much. Not his life at least. From what’s remaining, I’d say you have a member of the Gekkonidae family there. They’re usually found in tropical areas but it’s not unusual to see one here. Side-blotched specimen if I’m not mistaken. Judging from the stumpy tail he left behind, he’s decent sized, eight or nine inches maybe.” Then he looked at me rather sheepishly, “Well he used to be, he’s maybe half that now.”
I cringed. “You’re sure he’ll grow it back?” I needed my guilt assuaged.
“I don’t know, it looks like you got a bit more than tail there, but it should. He’ll be unbalanced, not able to run up and down as he’s used to without his tail to stabilize him, but he’ll get used to it. He’s still got four legs to get him around, and his tongue is long and sticky, so he shouldn’t find it too difficult to find food while he recovers.”
“Food? What does he eat?”
“Bugs, insects, mostly the flying type. Don’t see how he’s going to climb trees for a while though. He may have to do with grasshoppers and fleas.”
I shivered. The tail was only twitching intermittently now.
“Uh . . . what do I do with this part?”
The man clamped me on the shoulder and threw his head back in laughter. “Cook it if you want, I don’t think he’s going to come back for it!”
He hadn’t taken the hint. I was asking for assistance, manly as
sistance, kill-the-spider-in-the-bathroom assistance. He wasn’t in tune to me or my feminine wiles. He and his wife simply turned and went back to unloading their car.
I waited until the tail was “dead,” until it didn’t twitch, pulse, or throb. I had to move it off the step, but I certainly didn’t want to touch it while it was still in action. I looked around for something to move it with, even debated as to whether I should bury it. It occurred to me that maybe when the tail died so did the other part. I went back to the clothesline and took an unused clothespin off the line. How was I going to do this? I tried three times, each time jerking my hand back before the clothespin even met the mottled skin. I dropped the clothespin and walked around the campsite. Then I looked out at the road and saw a young boy on his bike. I waved him over and offered him five dollars to move the tail for me. He smiled, shrugged and grabbed it between his chubby fingers, then he walked it over to the edge of the cliff and heaved it off. I closed my eyes tightly and said I was sorry as I imagined it plummeting down the side of the mountain. Then I went inside to get some money for my rescuer.
I filled a small bucket with water so I could clean off the step, then went inside. I was in a funk. I knew I’d killed that lizard, and it depressed me. I certainly hadn’t meant to.
I plopped lengthwise down on the sofa, threw my arm over my forehead and gave a great sigh. Within minutes I was asleep conjuring up the Geico lizard with his twangy Aussie accent, going into a diatribe, “My mum, bless her soul. She was just out for a walk on the Oregon coast . . .”
I woke to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I rarely kept it on, but it was in its charger, so it was on now. My heart sped up. Only a handful of people had the number. My first thought was that it must be Brick. I ran to the bedroom to answer it.
“Hi!” I recognized the young voice immediately. It was Angelina, my little imp, the little girl I had reunited with her mom and dad. They were just settling into a new home in Austin, and she was very excited.
“Mom and Dad said I could!”
“Could what, sweetie?”
“Have a puppy!”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! But I’m supposed to be the one to get you the puppy when they say it’s okay.”
“I know. So when are you bringing him?”
I laughed. She was always forthright. I missed her, she was such a delight. “Well, let’s see . . . I’m in Oregon now. That’s a long way away.” It was June now, but one thing about being on the road, I had no ties, no job, nothing holding me here, except possibly the chance encounter with Brick I was counting on. “Are you sure your mommy and daddy are ready for company?”
“You’re not company.”
She couldn’t have said anything else that would have made me smile more. “Let me speak to your daddy.”
She must not have moved the phone far from her mouth, because I heard her call for Daniel. Seconds later he was on the line.
“She says you’re alright with me bringing a puppy?”
I felt the hesitation. “We’re alright with her having a puppy.”
That was odd phrasing. “But I can’t bring it?”
“It would be best if you didn’t.”
“Daniel, what’s going on?”
I heard him tell Angelina to go check on Lula Belle, her doll. He told her he thought he heard her crying.
“Daniel?”
“He’s here, Carrie.”
My heart started pumping harder. With a calmness I didn’t feel, I said, “Jenny.”
“Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting.”
“How do you know?”
“The neighbors. They’re asking very peculiar questions. I think he was here this week asking around and offering a reward. He probably figures you’re bound to show up here to visit.”
“Hmm. Well I sure don’t want to disappoint Angelina. I promised her a small white dog.”
I know. And that’s all she talks about.”
“Maybe we can meet somewhere?”
“He’s watching, I can just feel it.”
“Damn!”
There was silence for a few seconds, then I heard him talking to Julie.
“We all want to see you. It’s just not safe right now. And, Carr—Jen, I wouldn’t underestimate him.”
“Has he approached you?”
Again, a long hesitation, “Julie went to the grocery store yesterday. The man in line in front of her used his charge card to pay for her groceries. Then he told her he’d buy her a house too, if she told him where he could find you. She was so upset she left the groceries in the store. Thank God Angelina was with me.”
“Oh Daniel, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’d never take that man’s money, you know that don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll just have to wait.”
“I’ll figure something out Daniel. Just tell Angelina to be patient.”
“I will. You take care.”
“You guys happy?”
“Deliriously.” He laughed and I could hear Angelina squeal as he tickled her before disconnecting.
Jared! Damn his soul! So he hadn’t given up.
I walked up front to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. Sitting at the dinette in front of my laptop, I went online to check out breeders in the Austin area, ones who bred small, white dogs. There were many, and I smiled as I clicked from link to link, imagining Angelina’s face when each arrived on her doorstep. I was bummed that I couldn’t take Angelina a puppy, as I’d so dearly love to do. But there was more than one way to skin a cat. Ugh! That thought made me think of the gecko, and I cringed. A big gulp of wine followed.
I broke out of the search and went into my e-mail program. I figured that before dinner, I’d better tell Brick about Corporal Connor O’Reilly.
Chapter Six
Connor and I had a lovely dinner in the lodge. I had the Seafood Risotto and the Lodge Salad, and he had Wild Mushroom Brushetta and the Crater Lake Greens Salad. Then we opted to share an entrée, and decided on the Alaskan Halibut Fillet. We were so stuffed that we couldn’t even look at the desserts, which were presented tableside. But we did enjoy a wonderful cup of coffee as we stared out the window at the eerily shadowed mountains. Fully satisfied, we pushed back our chairs and lumbered out of the restaurant into the chilly summer evening. It wouldn’t be unusual for the temperature to dip into the thirties this time of the year, but thankfully, right now, it was only a brisk forty-six.
I smiled over at Connor, who had practically talked non-stop about his Diana and the plans he had for them. He saw a future that most women dream of—a happily ever after, filled with kids, dogs, and white picket fences. It was hard for me to resist smiling at his optimism, and his unflagging drive. He was one determined soldier. As I tossed one negative comment after another his way, he merely shrugged his shoulders and waved it away. He was going to find her no matter what. In his mind, the crusade had begun. All he needed was something akin to a scent, and he’d turn into a bloodhound, off and running.
But despite many hours of banter and deep thought, neither of us could come up with the starting point he so desperately needed. I let him walk me to the door of my RV. After getting to know him, I had decided he was one of the good guys, so I no longer worried about him as a threat to my safety. And although he sure was cute, he was certainly not a threat to my newly-foresworn chastity—he was way too young—and only Brick had a chance at that. But still I kept my distance as we walked; I did not want to give him the wrong impression, or encourage anything so lame as a goodnight kiss. Although, after all the talk about Diana, I would have been sorely disappointed if he had made any attempt at anything more than a peck on the cheek. Diana, wherever she was, owned his heart whether she knew it or not, whether she wanted it or not.
“That was a great dinner. Thanks for suggesting the Lodge, and for taking me,” I offered, as I fished through my purse for my key. My eyes were averted, straining to see through the meager
light of the moon, so I didn’t see what made Connor jump back three feet.
“What the hell was that?” he cried out.
All my nerves tensed as one thought raced through my mind, Jared.
Then I saw him stoop and cup his hand against the ground. He came up seconds later with a lizard, or the better part of one—a side-blotched lizard missing one very long appendage. I swallowed a lump of guilt.
“Well look what I found,” he said in a tender voice that told me that this man loved all God’s creatures, perfectly formed or otherwise.
“That’s my lizard,” I mumbled. “Wonder what he’s doing here,” I asked, as I peered down into his palm at the small reptile enjoying the single stroking finger gliding down his long back.
“He’s your pet?”
“Well no, actually I’m the one who disfigured him, well sort of.” I explained my traumatic experience of this afternoon, noting over and over again that it really had been an accident, that I hadn’t even seen the little critter until it had been too late. Now he was tailless and possibly homeless because of me. Without his tail, he probably couldn’t even get back to his family.
“You should keep him and take care of him until he grows his tail back.”
“What? Are you nuts?” Then I saw his big grin and I knew he was teasing.
“You keep him!” I looked down into his hand again. The lizard was licking his palm, his long, dark tongue taking languorous forays against the calloused skin.
“He’s hungry,’’ Connor murmured softly, almost cooing. In that moment I saw him as a dedicated, caring medic, anxious to soothe and calm not just a wounded soldier, but also anything that was hurting. I experienced another pang of guilt, because clearly, it was my fault that the lizard was hungry.
“He can’t climb trees, he’s temporarily crippled,” I said.
“Then it’s up to you to feed him. I’d say you’ve found yourself a pet,” he returned.
I could visualize the smug smile I couldn’t see, but knew was there, as his head bent over the small, black, wiggling body.
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