by Lyn Cote
“It’s Molly. I found her outside!” Cynda said tearfully.
Without replying, Thea jumped out of bed, then pulled on a pair of worn sweats over her short pajamas. “Where is she?”
Cynda started toward the kitchen and Thea kept pace with her. “I was on my way to the camp to help Irene get lunch ready for the campers arriving today. I jumped over the fence. Then I saw Molly.”
They were outside now hurrying toward the fence. Thea heard a low canine moan. The sound made Thea shiver with fear.
“Oh! She’s alive!” Cynda shouted and took the fence like a hurdle.
Thea followed suit and ran straight to her golden retriever who struggled to get up off the ground. “Molly!” Thea dropped to her knees and began deftly examining the dog’s body. “Where does it hurt, Molly?”
“She was out completely!” Cynda nearly sobbed with relief. “I thought she was dead!”
Fear swirled inside Thea. Molly, oh, dear Lord. What’s happened?
Cynda exclaimed, “Do you think she had a fit or something? We had a neighbor once whose dog had epilepsy.”
Molly finally succeeded in getting to her feet. Thea tried to restrain her and continued probing the silken gold fur in vain. Molly staggered, then collapsed again. What’s wrong! Tension knotting inside her throat made it impossible for Thea to speak.
“She looks like somebody drugged her!” Cynda said.
Confused, Thea stood up, watching Molly struggle back onto her feet. “I can’t see what the problem is—”
A scream.
“That’s Irene!” Cynda yelled.
Chilled by the sound, Thea broke into a run beside Cynda, heading for the camp.
Cynda sprinted ahead and reached Irene first. The older woman huddled on the broad wooden steps to the cafeteria. With her head in her hands, she moaned.
With Molly straggling behind her, Thea knelt beside the older woman and spoke as calmly as she could, “What is it, Irene? Are you hurt?”
Irene pointed to the door behind her. Cynda moved toward it.
“Cynda, wait!” Fearful of what Cynda might see, Thea leaped up and grabbed Cynda’s arm to stop her, but she was too late.
Cynda shrieked.
Abandoning Irene, Thea raced up the few steps. She looked inside and gasped. She felt weak in the knees at what she confronted.
“Who could do something like that?” Irene moaned.
At first, Thea couldn’t make sense of the disaster before her eyes. But the odor of spoiling eggs and raw hamburger assaulted her nose, making her sick to her stomach.
The cafeteria was a wreck. Someone had smashed dozens and dozens of eggs on the tables, on the walls, floor, benches—even the ceiling had been pelted. The smashed eggs’ shells and yolks and stringy whites had been swirled with ketchup, mustard and pickle relish. Over all, the scent of maple syrup hung in the ungodly hodgepodge of sickening smells.
The sheer wanton nastiness of it appalled Thea. She felt a cry start deep inside her but clamped her lips shut against it.
Irene stumbled up to Thea. “Someone must have emptied the refrigerator and some of the cabinets. How could they?”
Cynda looked nauseated. “This is sick, really sick.”
Large tears rolled down Irene’s full cheeks. “Peter’s coming back with the campers by noon. Cynda and I are supposed to have sloppy joes ready.” She wiped her eyes with the hem of her neon orange smock. “He’s bringing possible contributors, too. We’ll never be ready now!”
Thea listened to Cynda and Irene only vaguely. Her fear for Peter nearly overwhelmed her. A busload of kids and possible donors on the way—this could make those boys feel unwelcome and stop the money Peter needed so badly!
Righteous anger flamed through her and iron determination followed it. “Whoever did this is not going to win! Cynda?” Thea shook her stepsister by the shoulder. “Run home to our garage. Bring back the two snow shovels and the box of leaf bags.” When Cynda continued to stare without moving, Thea physically spun her around and pushed her toward the steps. “Run!” Then Thea turned to Irene. “Have you got some rubber gloves?”
The woman looked up at her with obvious bewilderment. “Yes, but Thea there’s no way the three of us can have all this cleaned up in time.”
“Oh, yes, we can. We will.” Thea’s voice vibrated with defiance. “You go get out all the gloves you have and I’ll get help.” Thea charged down the steps and ran straight for the lodge and its nearest phone.
She dialed. “Sheriff, this is Thea. I don’t have time to explain. Get right over to Peter’s camp and bring your camera.”
“What—”
Thea cut him off and punched in another number. “Pastor Carlson, I don’t have time to explain, but we’ve got a terrible mess at the camp. Please bring shovels, mops, garbage bags and bring anyone along that can help.”
“Thea, what—”
“Sorry.” She cut him off.
She took a breath to think. Who else can I call, Lord? Who else? A name came to her. She rapidly dialed Mrs. Chiverton. “Louella, I don’t have time to explain. We need your help at the camp.”
“Oh, no, what—”
“I know you keep a lot of paper towels and cleaning supplies on hand. Bag up some and come right over.”
“I will and I’ll call Lilly.” Mrs. Chiverton hung up on her.
Thea turned around and came face-to-face with Irene.
Irene held a handful of rubber glove packages. “Thank you, Thea. I don’t know people around here well enough to ask them to pitch in like that.”
Moved by Irene’s approval, Thea patted the dear woman’s shoulder.
“Thea, I’m back!” Cynda shouted from outside. “And guess what. Molly looks fine again. Guess the drug or whatever it was is wearing off.”
Molly! Poor, dear. Thea had forgotten about her. She’d check on her soon and take her to the vet later just to be sure she was all right.
“Okay. Let’s get busy!” Thea ordered.
Within minutes, the three of them had donned bright yellow rubber gloves. Thea took one of the snow shovels and handed Irene the box of brown plastic leaf bags. “Now, Irene, Cynda and I are going to start shoveling. You get a bag out and hold it while we fill it. Okay?”
She and Cynda dug their shovels into the disgusting mixture. Irene slapped open the first large bag.
Thea tried not to dwell on the disgusting garbage she was moving with the shovel. The odors had already strengthened as the morning began to warm. The women stopped to cover their mouths with bandanas, to minimize the effect. They had shoveled their way to the first row of tables when Thea heard the whine of the police siren approaching. The car sped through the entrance and parked with a jerk at the nearest edge of the lot.
The sheriff came at a run; his camera strung around his neck bouncing wildly. “What happened? I patrolled here every half hour and walked the grounds three times last night! Good grief!”
Thea glanced up and saw that the sheriff did look tired with dark shadows under his puffy eyes. And his look of revulsion reassured her that she hadn’t imagined everything. “Start taking pictures because we’re cleaning this up before it gets any warmer. The stench will be unbelievable before long. Don’t tell me you have to look for evidence. Just start taking pictures while you can.” Thea thought to herself, I sound just like Lilly Magill. But she went on as she lifted another gooey shovelful, “And don’t tell us you need time because this cafeteria is going to be ready by the time Peter arrives with the boys.” Her commanding voice sounded unusual to her own ears.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sheriff Swenson grinned, saluted, then began snapping pictures.
Mrs. Chiverton arrived just as Pastor Carlson pulled up. “More help is coming,” the pastor said. “I stuck my head into The Café on the way.” Pastor began shoveling beside Cynda.
“Thank you, Pastor. Mrs. Chiverton—”
The old woman had come out in such a hurry she’d forgotten to put on her wig. He
r thin gray hair was pulled into a bun at her crown and she wore a faded blue print housedress. “Call me Louella, dear. I liked it when you called me that this morning.” She began lining up the cleaning supplies she’d brought on the highest step to the cafeteria. “You’re all grown-up. I never did like the way Althea wouldn’t let you call me Aunt Louella when you were a child. She always insisted you speak so formally.”
“I’ll be happy to call you Aunt Louella.” Filled with gratitude and a bit surprised, Thea grinned and felt the grin go all the way through her, making her glow with pleasure in spite of the chaos around her.
“You could just call me Louella.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll include the Aunt because I don’t have any other aunts.” Thank you, Lord, for letting me finally see the truth about this dear woman.
“Wonderful, dear.” Louella donned rubber gloves. “What do you want me to do?”
“Follow me to the kitchen. The stove needs intensive care.” Thea shoveled a path for Mrs. Chiverton to the kitchen. There the older woman began the detailed work of cleaning the “slimed” and encrusted stove.
Thea shook her head over the condition of the kitchen. Flour and sugar “snowed” every surface. Salt gritted under her shoes.
Mrs. Magill arrived wearing overalls cut off at her knees and her fishing hat. Thea showed her how to hold the bags and Thea began shoveling.
It took them over an hour just to shovel out the disgusting mixture into nearly fifteen bags. Nan and Tracy arrived just in time to begin the scrubbing. With rubber gloves on, Little Tracy began washing a bench with a stiff brush while her mother started spraying cleaner, then swabbing down tables.
“Where are the twins?” Thea asked.
“I left them with Vickie at her beauty shop. She said she’d call Tom to come help her with them, so she could still carry on business! She told me she’s sorry she couldn’t come. She’d try to send Thad over.”
Cynda piped up, “He won’t come. He sleeps till noon every day, then works all afternoon and some evenings.”
Pastor Carlson found a ladder and climbed it to attack the egg smears on the ceiling. Finished taking evidence photos, the sheriff put his camera in his car and came back barefoot.
This sight startled Thea. “What are you doing, Sheriff?” She paused while scrubbing a windowsill.
“There’s an easier way to loosen this scum.” He rolled up his sleeves and pant legs, then stepped outside again.
In a few moments, he aimed the hose in and began spraying the ceiling. “Hey, Pastor, get down from that ladder before I spray you off!”
The high spray sent sprinkles of welcome water over them all. The sun was climbing and bringing a hot sunny day with it. Thea felt sweat trickle down her back, an unusual sensation for her.
The pastor scrambled down and folded up his ladder. “Great idea! I’ll get the push broom and sweep the water outside!”
Soon the men took turns spraying the ceiling, log walls, plank floors and the old scarred tables and benches, or sweeping the water out the door with the large push broom. Of course, the sheriff couldn’t resist “accidentally” splashing the women with cold water.
After some indignant squealing, the women moved out of range, gathering in the kitchen behind its door to do the detailed cleaning of the appliances and cabinets. When Thea took a good look, she saw the vandal had splashed raw egg and maple syrup over the flour and sugar in the kitchen, too.
The women shoveled out the mess into bags, then called the men to spray the floor. Afterward, they began disassembling the refrigerator shelves and stove parts for a thorough scrubbing. Over two hours later, everyone drenched by sweat, soaked with water, and smelling of lemon-scented cleaner collapsed onto damp benches. Thea felt exhausted by emotion as well as the exertion.
“I can’t believe we did it,” Nan exclaimed, with a beaming Tracy at her side.
“We sure did!” the little girl agreed.
“We can never thank you all enough.” Irene mopped her forehead with the hem of her orange smock. “The lunch menu has changed. Pastor, could you drive into town and buy us about six dozen hot dogs and buns, about ten bags of potato chips, and the fixings for today’s lunch?”
“Glad to.” Standing, the pastor began rolling up the hose around his right arm to take it back outside. He paused. “Thanks for calling me, Thea. I really feel like we did God’s work today.”
Thea nodded.
Irene looked to Cynda. “Now, dear, you run home quick and change clothes, then come back and start lunch while I change.”
“Okay!” Cynda took a paper towel from a depleted roll at her elbow and wiped her face with it. “I really worked up a sweat.”
“My dear,” Louella said with a twinkle in her eye, “a lady never sweats. She perspires.”
Cynda looked surprised. “What?”
Lilly Magill laughed and slapped her bare, very pudgy knee. “Louella, you crack me up.”
Louella stood up slowly. “Oh, I ache all over.”
“Stop bragging,” Lilly barked, then roared with laughter at her own joke.
Louella giggled. “Oh, we’re slaphappy. This was dreadful, but I haven’t felt this tired or this alive in a long, long time.”
Irene smiled and patted the older woman’s thin arm. “You were great. Both of you. I could hardly clean fast enough to keep up with you two.”
Cynda approached Thea and pulled her up from the bench with both hands. “Come on, Sis. You’re a mess.”
Feeling much in tune with Aunt Louella’s aches, Thea moaned, but allowed herself to be pulled up. “The same to you, my dear.”
Cynda linked elbows with Thea and they walked arm in arm out of the cafeteria. The dampness of Thea’s clothing lessened the warmth of the nearly noon-high sun. With her free hand, Thea waved behind them to the ladies. Thea followed her sister’s lead and they walked still linked toward the fence. Molly bounded over to join them.
“You know, Thea, you were really great this morning. I didn’t think you could take charge like that.”
Pleased, Thea pondered what Cynda had said. “I kind of surprised myself, but I just couldn’t let whoever did this win. He wanted to spoil things for the boys coming in today.”
“Thanks to you, he didn’t win.” Cynda fell silent for a few moments. “You know, Thea, I always wanted a sister and I feel like I finally got one this summer.”
Thea felt a lump in her throat. “I feel the same way.”
Cynda slipped her arm out of Thea’s and put it around Thea’s waist for a side hug. Thea returned the pressure. Deeply touched, she fought the tug of tears.
Then Cynda lifted a clump of Thea’s unbound, golden brown hair and looked at it quizzically. “Thea, I’ve heard of people with egg on their faces, but I’ve never seen anyone with egg in their hair. Yuck!”
Giddy joy bubbled up inside Thea. “You’ve got mustard on your nose!”
“Yuck!” Cynda broke away and started running. “I get the shower first!”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Giggling, Thea chased after her.
Cynda taunted, “The last one over the fence is a rotten egg!”
“Don’t you dare mention eggs to me ever again!” With Molly at her heels, Thea sped up running full tilt toward the fence.
With a shout of triumph, Cynda leaped over it.
As Cynda did a victory jig, Thea cleared the fence, jogged around her stepsister and charged through the kitchen door, heading for the shower.
Cynda pelted in after her shouting, “No fair! No fair!”
Smiling broadly, Thea sat down and waved her sister toward the bathroom. “Irene is waiting for you. Go on.”
Thea knew she, too, would have some tight muscles tomorrow morning, but her sense of satisfaction grew. The only dark spot was that the vandal had struck a third time and probably would again. Thea sent a plea heavenward for wisdom and justice.
Finally a scrubbed and freshly dressed Cynda left for the camp for the se
cond time that morning. Thea took a shower, then soaked in a warm sudsy bath as well. The disgusting mess she had helped clean up left her feeling extra dirty, but also she needed time to recharge her batteries. Drained of energy and emotion, Thea’d never lived a morning like this one before.
At last, she finished bathing, dressing and combing out her damp hair. She stepped outside her kitchen door. The sunshine dazzled her eyes and heat radiated from the asphalt drive.
Molly greeted her with a cheerful dance of wiggling and barking. Thea sat down on the bench by her door and examined Molly once more, trying to see if the retriever had received any injury. Molly appeared unhurt, but Thea still couldn’t be easy in her mind. What had been done to her faithful dog?
She must have been drugged. Unwilling to believe this dreadful thought, Thea went over in her mind all the possible suspects, but only came up with Mr. Crandon and her grandmother. Still, she couldn’t picture either of them drugging her dog. Ridiculous! “Molly, you’re going to see the vet today.”
Molly barked her approval.
Thea stood up and headed toward the camp. For her own satisfaction, she wanted to see the first round of boys eating hot dogs and chips while they sat on damp benches where disgusting chaos had reigned hours before.
The noise level inside the cafeteria was too high for Thea’s comfort. How could twenty boys make such a racket? She grimaced, but walked by the campers toward the kitchen. Stepping into it, she came face-toface with Peter.
“Thea, I hoped you’d come earlier! I’m on the run now!”
“Of course, this is your big day.” Her smile froze into place. Peter would be too busy for her again.
For a millisecond, he pulled her close, then dashed off.
Cynda shouted for Thea to come to the kitchen for lunch, but Thea’s stomach tightened with disappointment. Peter.
*
Peter switched off the light in the last dorm. “Good night, boys!”
“Good night, Mr. Della!” This phrase came to him in various boyish voices from the boys bedded down on cots in the dorm.