by Jayne Louise
‘Yes,’ Jules said. ‘Okay.’
‘No wonder she plays drums,’ Jem teased. ‘All this energy.’
‘I really don’t know what time it is,’ I said.
‘I really don’t care,’ Jem said.
I smiled. ‘That sounds like an old song.’
‘One we don’t play.’
We walked slowly back down the little gravel path towards the main part of the village compound. About halfway there Jules did break into a run, skipping out into the middle of the intersecting path and twirling round on her toes with her hands in the air like a pixie. Jem and I giggled. ‘Hey, you,’ Jem called in a whisper, ‘what happened to sticking together?’
At that moment we all heard a dog bark.
Instantly we all went into a near-panic, hearts racing, heads spinning. ‘Jayne!’ Jules breathed. ‘Is that–’
I stood frozen for a whole second. The dog barked again. ‘He’s inside,’ I said. ‘It’s muffled–’
The dog was still barking, somewhere off to our left. We all turned to look, and there, at the far end of the compound, we saw a light go on.
Jem whirled round to me. ‘Guards!’ she whispered.
‘Caretaker,’ I nodded. ‘I didn’t know he lived here.’
‘What if he lets the dog out?’
‘He won’t– it’s a state park. No pets not on a leash. But if it’s a guard dog we’d better move.’
‘The lake!’ Jules whispered, and beckoned us.
Like fairies we flew away across the grass towards the bridge, staying clear of the gravel till we got there just to avoid the noise. Jules got to the other side first, turning and running down the far side of the creek where there were picnic tables along that side of the mansion. I let them both go on ahead, slowing once or twice to see if we would be followed. There was no sign of anyone, but there, 250 yards way, the light was still on. It was like the porch light of one of the more distant cottages. I did not hear the dog now. Maybe he stopped barking and went back to sleep.
Or maybe he had been set loose and was on the prowl….
* * *
* * *
III
A narrow escape
Jules got to the side of the lake first and was making her way down through the rushes to the bank of the creek. Jem caught up to her– actually caught her by the arm to avoid speaking too loudly. ‘No splashing!’ she urged in a whisper that was scarcely a breath.
‘Shhh!’ I whispered. ‘Not here. We need to move as far away as we can first. They’ll see us if we’re too close.’
Without another word we were all running at full tilt along the grassy bank of the creek, all the way down till the woods closed in. There we could make our way down to the edge of the water and rest.
Up the lake to our right, the trees on all sides seemed to back away from the water as though to give it room, and we were probably looking half a mile, at least, to the far side. The moon shone on the glassy surface of the lake, its current barely noticeable as it made its way slowly down towards the little waterfall at the mill. Every few seconds a minnow would leap to the surface with a little ‘plink!’ and leave a tiny round eddy near the shore. Off to our left, the dark, deserted village of historic Batsto made no sound. There was only the constant squealing of crickets and cicadas from every bush and tree, and the plain wooden houses and sheds we had browsed about before, with no lights or people in sight.
‘What happened to the dog?’ Jem whispered, looking at me.
‘They never let him out.’
Jules looked at me. ‘Are you sure? Maybe we should swim for it anyway.’
I shook my head. ‘No. We’re fine here… for now. We can rest a minute.’
Jules nodded, pressing one hand to her chest. ‘My heart is thumping like crazy!’
Jem smiled, turning and seating herself in the dewy grass of the bank. ‘About like that time we saw those guys on four-wheelers?’
‘Almost!’
‘No,’ I said, taking a few steps up the bank to look around the bushes, ‘that wasn’t so bad. We knew what we were up against then. We had it under control.’
‘Thanks to you,’ Jem smiled, looking up at me. ‘You really like this, don’t you? It’s in your element.’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe. If thinking is my element.’
Jem nodded, and I stepped back down to sit beside her. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I guess thinking does pay off. Like you watching the state cop back there. I would’ve just run for it.’
I smiled at her. ‘No, you wouldn’t have. You’re smarter than that. You never panic.’
Jem shrugged. It was a cute gesture for her. ‘I guess not. But I do get scared sometimes.’
I laughed a little. ‘Well, when you do risky stuff like this, maybe you have a reason to be.’
‘Maybe.’
Jules stood ankle-deep in the lake and looked back at us. In the same sort of whisper we had all been using, she said, ‘Well, are we going or not? Is there a dog, or not?’
‘There is no dog,’ I said, ‘that we have to be worried about now. However–’
‘Yes?’ they both asked.
I pointed. ‘You, get your tush out of the water. They could see you from the bridge.’
‘But my tush isn’t in the water,’ Jules smiled, turning round to look at her backside.
Jem was gazing off around the bush at the bridge. ‘She’s right. It could have taken the guy this long to get his dog out. Maybe we’d better at least get into the water.’
I shrugged. ‘We could. And then what? Sit there and wait?’
‘Well,’ Jules said, ‘I thought we could go swimming. We’re all sweaty now.’
We were. The night was still in the nineties and it was hot just breathing. Our bodies gleamed with sticky brackish sweat. Our hair was slimy and dark and flown up in wild streaks everywhere. If anyone had come upon us then he would have thought us feral jungle animals. Besides, there was no clear air between these bushes and the rushes of the lake.
‘Shhh,’ Jem said then. ‘Listen.’
Far off, above the crickets, we heard a male voice.
‘The guard!’ Jules mouthed.
I pointed to the water without a word.
Silently, quickly, we slipped into the water of the lake, immersing our whole bodies at once and slithering off amidst the rushes with just our eyes and foreheads showing. The rushes were horribly prickly but no comfort was worth the risk of being seen in the midst of the lake from the bridge. Jem led Jules off along the shore, both of them crawling on the bottom in about 18 inches of water. Like the mother hen I stayed to the rear, going half backwards like a crab to keep an eye on the bridge.
Sure enough a light flickered.
‘Psss!’ I hissed, barely above the rippling of the water.
They both stopped and turned, slowly and silently, and waited. The flickering light neared. We saw it play over the side of the mill building and then on the railings of the bridge. The guy was searching the place because his dog had heard us– or smelled us.
My heart was thumping. This was close. We’d been out sneaking around before– though we had never come to a real public place like Batsto like this– and we had never been chased or searched-for. No one had ever even known we’d been there. All because of this guy’s stupid dog! What did he need the dog for anyway? We weren’t doing anything wrong!
I glanced off to the right again and saw that the cleared or developed area of Batsto park would come to an end in another 50 yards or so. Beyond the rushes where we were cowering there was no more lawn, no more historic buildings, no more no-trespassing park. Far off across the lake was the other canoe-launching beach, part of the state park but not part of the Batsto historic site. It’s on the same side of the lake as the caretaker’s cottage. We would have to hike back along the canoe-launching road, right past the split-rail fence where the cottages are, where the one used for the caretaker is. Tha
t would never do. Even if he never found us, and returned home, the dog would sense us going by on the road, even if we were on the legal side of the fence. Getting there would only be a way of delaying being detected– not avoiding it.
The light grew nearer and then we saw him, flashlight in one hand and dog’s leash in the other. Jules made a gasp and Jem silenced her. We lay perfectly still, scarcely moving to breathe although the thumping of our hearts made a good effort at rippling the water. The guy flashed his light once or twice at the lake, and the dog seemed to pay close attention to the railing on our side, but the guy led him off towards the mansion behind us and in a few seconds he was out of sight beyond the bushes.
I turned, but Jem had already moved Jules on ahead. We crawled, faster now, and more towards the center of the lake, knowing our only safety lay in putting distance on the caretaker. In my mind I imagined the dog sniffing the grass along the edge of the bushes, finding the spot where Jules had first gone to the bank, and then backing up, coming ever closer to us. I looked round once and thought I saw the reflection of the flashlight on the water. Maybe it was just the moon. I’ll never know.
The water grew deep– and cold– and we were treading water, our eyes scarcely above the surface, about 50 yards from either shore as we made our way into the wider part of the lake. Once I thought I heard the dog bark. Dogs don’t usually bark when they are searching unless they find something. I turned round once, just to look, and saw a glimmer of light where we had been hiding. Thank God we already had 150 yards on there by then. We were over towards the south side of the lake again and would be out of sight from where we had gone in. If the guy were standing there, he wouldn’t see us. And unless he set the dog free in the water, we’d be okay.
Of course he didn’t set the dog free in the water. The dog didn’t even seem so interested in us now. I thought of those stories in which the burglars always leave a piece of raw, bloody meat for the guard dogs. I’ve never been much for killing little animals but it might have been useful to have a fresh roadkill rabbit with us this time!
Jem turned around, rolling onto her back for a moment to get my attention. We did not speak. I just nodded, and we continued on as we had been going. I rolled round too and sort of watched the bridge as we paddled away from it, our bodies slipping through the water so smoothly that I could not feel or hear the ripples from Jules even 12 feet away. Once I looked and did not see her, and then her head emerged slowly from the surface like some prehistoric sea-creature, the hair dripping down all around like a net. Still she made no noise at all.
I realized the caretaker might patrol the entire village and that could take an hour or more. Or he could give up and go back to his air-conditioning. We found a place where we could all touch bottom and had a rest there, even though the water seemed to constrict our chests and make us all pant with our mouths open after the stealthy swim. I kept my eyes on the bridge way back there and watched, just on the chance I’d be right about the caretaker’s own human nature– and about our ability to outsmart him. And I was right.
The light played along the bridge railing again– the guy was going back across. Behind me, Jem submerged herself, taking a deep breath to wait it out underwater. I only hoped she remembered to come up quietly and exhale through her nose! Jules did the same thing a moment later, but came up too early. I lowered myself down till my eyes were an inch above the water and only the top of my head would show, like a rock or a log or something, and stared. The light appeared on the bridge.
No dog could have sensed us that far away– we were at least 250 yards down the lake now. The guy stopped at the top of the bridge, shining the light away from us– he was looking down at the waterfall. Then the light turned our way.
I am certain he did not see us. The moonlight was so bright that his flashlight would not show him anything the moon did not. Jem came up for breath directly behind me; I felt the water move against my head and heard her inhale. Then she was down again. If the guy saw her move I cannot imagine he would have had any idea what it was.
The dog had no interest in anything beyond the edge of the bridge and started on even before the guy was ready. Then the flashlight turned towards the far end of the village, and the guy and his dog disappeared.
Jules surfaced beside Jem then. ‘Wow,’ she sighed, and stood up.
‘Shhh,’ I said, and tapped Jem. ‘Okay, which way?’ I asked either of them.
Jem wrung her hair with her hands and stood up. Suddenly we were aware it was only up to her ribs. ‘You said the canoe beach,’ Jules said, pointing over across the wide part of the lake. ‘We can hike back from there.’
‘But that will go right by that end of the village,’ Jules said, ‘and we know that’s where he lives. I say we go back the way we came. If he’s gone, he’s gone. We’ll have the chance to get back to the road– and safety.’
Jules nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘That makes sense.’
I agreed. ‘All right,’ I whispered, ‘but when we get out of the water, we go right to the fence.’
‘And leave,’ Jem said, to Jules who might have wanted us to linger longer.
So, as stealthily as we had come away, we returned to the end of the little bank and arose from the water, one at a time. Jem strode up the grass first, gazing back towards the bridge the whole way. We hadn’t seen or heard anything of a radio on that caretaker and began to wonder if he was only returning to his house to call for reinforcements. I decided we were not going to find out.
We scampered across the back lawn of the mansion, over the little walls of the Victorian garden and up to the split-rail fence of the parking lot. Just as I got there, panting furiously, we heard the sound of a truck slowing down out on the road. No– it was not a truck. It was an SUV. It was a Jeep.
The brakes whined. We saw the headlights pass a few gaps in the hedgerow and the brake lights come on. He was slowing to enter the state park.
‘That’s it!’ I said, almost aloud, and darted off across the corner of the parking lot for the ticket booth and the Coke machines. The Jeep turned up the driveway. We were all across the parking lot in five seconds and blew by the porch where the Coke-machines were. The headlights turned again to enter the parking lot. There was just a 50-yard dash to the hedgerow we had followed to come in, but the other hedgerow along the parking-lot entrance hid us from the Jeep that even now was turning into the rectangle of the parking lot. If we had been thirty seconds later he would have caught all three of us naked in the headlights when we had come around the back of the garden.
We didn’t stop running till we got to the split-rail fence at the side of the road. I was panting out loud and my heart was thumping like crazy. As the other two caught up to where I was I waved them in behind me, into the cover of the hedge.
‘There he is,’ I said.
Back in the parking lot, the headlights turned around and came to face the roadway, not quite in our direction. It was not quite safe to get past the fence and cross yet. ‘God!’ Jem prayed. ‘Let us get out of this!’
I laughed a little. ‘We are out of it, hun. God has been up there for us.’
‘I thought the dog would get us!’ Jules panted, wiping sweaty wet hair out of her face. ‘And wow, do I have to pee!’
Jem giggled. ‘We’re almost home, hun.’ She turned to me. ‘Should we wait here?’
I shrugged. ‘His engine’s still running– he can’t hear us. He can’t see us from there either, unless he gets out–’ I squinted. ‘Which he’s not doing. I say if we can get around these hedges, we could cross right behind them and he won’t see.’
Jem nodded. ‘Sounds sensible.’
Just then we perceived the dim glow of headlamps on the bushes next to us. A car was coming down the road, heading for the curve where we were.
‘Rats,’ Jem said, as though it were only a minor problem.
If we were to creep around to the other side of the hedge and he turned in as
the ranger had done, he would see us over there. If we stayed as we were he would see us here.
I had an idea in one second. ‘Lie down flat,’ I said. ‘As soon as he’s clear we go.’
They both nodded and we all arranged ourselves in the softest grass we could find, close to the hedges and behind enough of the tall grass along the fence that we’d be obscured from anyone who was not specifically looking for three naked chicks on the ground.
The headlights neared, mostly over us, and the car slowed. Lying on my stomach with my face turned away from the road, I rolled my eyes at Jem, like ‘what now?’ She was facing me, also away from the approaching car, and made a wry little smile at me. A few yards beside her, Jules lay flat on her back, arms at her sides, staring up at the sky with her eyes open like a naked Barbie-doll someone had left behind.
The car slowed for the curve and the headlights passed above us. Then we heard the engine slow as the driver put on the brakes to turn in. Just as it drew even with where we were, I heard the distinct crackle of a police message on the car’s radio.
I was already on hands and knees by then. ‘Let’s go!’ I urged them.
‘Now?’ Jules worried.
The police cruiser turned on the other side of the hedgerow and accelerated up the entrance lane. ‘How many cops do you think are out at one o’clock in the morning?’ Jem asked her, scurrying over to the fence.
‘We’re not waiting around to find out,’ I said, and crawled through the two middle rails of the fence.
The road was deserted. I stepped out around the hedge in time to see the police cruiser’s brake lights as it turned in to the parking-lot driveway. Jules and Jem got through and then I was running across the warm asphalt of the road, across the broad field, towards the sandy path leading into the woods.
I slowed down once, twirling about on one foot and squinting back at the state park to see if we’d been spotted. The police cruisers’ lights were only now joining the ranger’s lights which were just a little to the left of where I stood facing them. He was facing the right direction, but he was too far away to get a good picture. And he probably wasn’t looking anyway. Lucky thing he had not seen our bare bottoms darting across the road. Maybe he’d have thought we were deer!