Chapter Two
It was a long hour. Frannie kept thinking of other things she should have brought. Finally they entered the park and then the campground. Mickey led them to two campsites he had reserved along the lake.
While Larry and the boys tackled the tent, Frannie surveyed the area. From their sites, the campground spread up a steep hill along gravel access roads that ran parallel to lake shore. The late afternoon sun cast soft shadows across the lake and a light breeze ruffled the grasses along the water. Huge old cotttonwoods, maples, and oaks shaded the area.
Clumps of field daisies filled a ditch running toward the lake. Frannie’s mother had always called them “Decoration Day Daisies” and planted them on the grave of her father—a pilot who had been killed in the Korean War.
Jane Ann and Mickey had efficiently opened their popup and completed the setup. Larry and the boys had the tent up, but Larry stood with two short pieces of aluminum in his hands and scratched his head.
Sam unzipped the door and stepped inside just as the whole thing collapsed around him. From under the pile of canvas, he yelled, “I found where those pieces go, Dad!”
It took a few minutes before Trent and Sally could stop laughing long enough to help pull him back out the door. Once Larry was satisfied that the tent would hold for the weekend, Frannie helped unload the rest of the supplies and sleeping bags.
Mickey got supplies together to start a fire. He leaned over the rusty ring and pulled a long white bone out of the ashes. “Well! Apparently someone in the last group of campers must have gotten sassy with the leader. Let this be a lesson to you all!”
Frannie stared. “That isn’t—?”
Mickey gave an evil laugh. “Who knows?”
Sam looked over at his uncle. “Cool!”
Frannie shuddered. She thought of the mystery she was currently in the middle of. A family was being stalked through the woods by a killer. Maybe not the best reading material for a camping trip.
Larry rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe him, honey. It’s an animal bone—maybe a deer.”
“How do you know? You’re no wildlife expert. Kind of spooky anyway. Why would it be there?”
“Relax. You read too many mysteries.”
Mickey laughed. “You better help me cook or you could end up the same.”
The plan was for a simple supper. Mickey grilled burgers and Jane Ann added a cast iron pot of cowboy beans to the fire. Frannie grated potatoes for a pile of hash browns into a large cast iron skillet. Mickey instructed her on the amount of oil and temperature of the pan; then growled as she struggled to flip the potatoes and took over on the spatula.
Seated at the picnic table, Frannie began to relax. Nature had cooperated with a fairly bug-free evening and the food hit the spot.
Mickey achieved just the right crispness with the hash browns and left the burgers juicy and slightly rare. Frannie took a big bite of the burger layered with lettuce, tomato, and onion and let the juice run down her chin.
“Mick, you’re kind of getting the hang of this cooking thing.” Larry spoke around a mouthful of his own burger. Frannie almost choked on hers at his words—Mickey had always been the gourmet in the family.
The five teenagers provided the entertainment. The girls reported on a funny mishap at softball practice and the heart-rending breakup of a friend and ‘the only guy she would ever love.’
Trent and Sam countered with a defense of ‘the guy’ and challenged that track practice was much more difficult than softball. After supper, Jane Ann filled the Dutch oven from a nearby faucet and put it on the fire to heat for dishes.
Frannie looked at Mickey. “I assume there are restrooms? It’s going to be a long weekend if there aren’t.”
He laughed and pointed up the hill at a long, low building. “Up there. Showers, too.”
Frannie turned and trudged up the hill, cutting between campsites in order to take the most direct route. She nodded at others eating supper, sitting around campfires, or playing cards.
She noticed the many original uses of outdoor lights and outrageous lawn ornaments. Decor that would be tacky in a neighborhood seemed fun and fanciful in a campground. A few people gave her disapproving glances, probably explained when Mickey later told her that it was considered bad etiquette to cut through occupied campsites.
At the top of the hill, she walked around the front of the building which faced away from the lake. Larry had just pulled into the small parking lot.
Frannie leaned over, hands on her knees, to catch her breath. “You drove up here?”
“I’m not walking up that hill. But I’ll give you a ride back if you want.” He winked at her.
“Wimp!” She walked into the women’s side of the building.
They returned down the hill to their campsite. Mickey had built the campfire up to a blaze and Sally had pulled out the makings for s’mores. Sam and Trent were already roasting marshmallows.
“Mom! Where’s the graham crackers?”
“They should be with the marshmallows and candy bars, in the same box.”
Sally set a large box up on the table. “I can’t find them.”
Frannie joined her and rummaged through the box. No sign of graham crackers. She remembered that the last time she saw them, they were on the kitchen counter. “Well, we’ll pick some up tomorrow.”
Sam held his stick up and blew out the flaming marshmallow. “Uh, Mom.”
“Just put it between two pieces of Hershey,” Frannie said.
That tactic was moderately successful, but the kids all ended up with chocolate faces and hands. Jane Ann brought out a plastic tub of soapy water because both Larry and Mickey refused to allow any of them in their vehicles for a ride up the hill to the restrooms. After a basic wash up, they raced each other up the hill to finish the job.
The adults relaxed around the fire and Mickey picked out a few old folk tunes on his guitar, some soulful, some rousing. They sang along on the familiar ones like “This Land is Your Land” and “Blowin’ in the Wind.” The smoke from the campfire wafted slowly back and forth almost in time to the music.
Jane Ann leaned over to Frannie. “Beautiful, isn’t it? I’m so glad you came.”
“It is lovely. More relaxing than I expected.”
Mickey rubbed his hands together. “Time for ghost stories?”
“Dad!” Mona said. “Tell ‘em about the man who murdered his wife.”
“Not in a campground, I hope,” Frannie said.
“Oh yeah,” Justine chimed in. “Tell how you solved it, Dad!”
Frannie looked at Mickey. Obviously, if this was true, they would have heard about it a long time ago. Had to be a joke.
Mickey crouched down by the fire, stirring the embers with a stick. “We were camped over at Barton Falls. The couple next to us argued all day long. Doors slamming, the whole nine yards. We were about to report it to the ranger, but then it got quiet. Not a sound all evening. By the time we went to bed, I was convinced that one of them had done away with the other.” He paused and stared into the fire.
“What happened?” Sally demanded.
“The next morning I’m out by the fire early having a cup of coffee. It’s just starting to get light. The door of the camper opens and the man steps out and looks around, real sneaky-like. He couldn’t see me because of the shadows. He turns around and pulls a roll of carpet out and lugs it over to the dumpster. Then he hurries back to the camper and closes the door.”
“So what did you do ?” Trent asked.
“I waited a few minutes, and when he didn’t come back out, I got a flashlight and went over to the dumpster.”
Frannie sat forward in her chair. “C’mon! Did you look inside the carpet roll?”
“Yes.” Mickey looked around at the group, dead serious. An unusual expression for him.
“What was in it, Ferraro?” Larry asked. “Quit dragging this out.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?
” This was a chorus from Larry, Frannie, Sam, Sally and Trent. Jane Ann, Justine and Mona giggled and covered their mouths.
Mickey shrugged. “Just a roll of old carpet. I talked to the guy later. Seems the argument was about whether to replace the flooring in their trailer. The wife wanted a new camper. He won and decided to remove the old stuff before she could change her mind.”
“So why was he acting so sneaky?” Sally wanted to know.
“I know,” Frannie said.
Mickey reverted to classroom mode. “Yes, Mrs. Shoemaker?”
“There’s a sign on the dumpster that you can be fined for dumping household items in there.”
“Correct!” Mickey said. “You get a star on your forehead.”
“I can’t believe someone would remodel their camper in a campground,” Sam said.
Mickey gave an evil laugh. “You’d be surprised what goes on in a campground.”
Larry got up. “If you’re done with your tall tales, we’d better get the sleeping bags arranged in the tent. Then I’ll make one more trip up the hill for bathroom chores if anyone wants a ride.”
Larry had brought one air mattress for him and Frannie, so he laid it in the tent and brought in a small compressor. Once the mattress was inflated, Frannie supervised the arrangement of the sleeping bags.
“How come you guys get an air mattress and we don’t?” Sally asked.
“Because we’re older and make more money than you do,” Larry said. In spite of the tent being fairly good-sized, they shuffled around each other, ducked elbows, and stepped on toes. Frannie tried to ignore the faint bleach smell coming from the canvas.
She had no problem falling asleep.
The next morning, she woke up first and crawled out of the bag. She slipped on a hooded sweatshirt and her moccasins. The sun was up and Mickey had coffee going in a big enamel pot on the fire.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure anyone was ever going to join me out here.” He pulled a mug from a tote and poured it full of the steaming brew.
Frannie stretched and gratefully accepted the coffee. “Thanks, Mick. I need this badly.”
“Did you sleep all right?”
“I think so. I was really beat.”
“I hear you. What time should we plan breakfast?”
She looked at him. “I only brought cereal and donuts.”
“Maybe not.” He pointed toward the Shoemakers’ large cooler sitting beside their tent. It was open and tipped over, with the contents strewn around the ground.
“What the—?” Frannie said and walked toward it. “Someone did this in the night?”
“If you include raccoons as someone.”
“But it was latched.” She picked up an empty milk carton and the shredded plastic bag that had held the donuts. Soda cans lay empty, crushed or pierced by sharp little claws.
“They can open anything. I should have had you put it back in your truck or at least pile something heavy on top of it last night. But never fear—I have stuff for bacon, pancakes, and eggs—enough for everyone.”
“Now I’m embarrassed. And our steaks for tonight are gone, too.” Her frown deepened as she looked in vain around the area for the missing meat.
“Don’t be.” He leaned forward over the fire to refill his own mug. “I’ll put you to work.” Then he lowered his voice. “The girls and I decided we’re not going to mention Jane Ann’s birthday for a while—let her think we forgot.”
“That’s mean.”
Mickey stirred the fire. “Just heightens the suspense.”
The breakfast was a huge hit with all of the campers. Frannie marveled at Mickey’s organization. With a lack of kitchen counters or a traditional stove, he juggled mixing bowls, serving dishes and cooking utensils on a storage tote turned upside down. He produced a hot breakfast with no leftovers.
“We need to get some meat for supper, since the coons will be enjoying ours,” Frannie told Larry.
“If you’re going to town, I wouldn’t mind riding along,” Jane Ann said. “I forgot to bring dressing for the salad tonight.”
Sally, Mona, and Justine decided to hit the beach a short distance from the campground. Trent and Sam announced they were going to hike around the lake. Jane Ann shared bug spray with all.
“We need to get more pop and beer, too, thanks to our masked friends,” Larry said.
Mickey stood up and threw up his arms. “We’ll all go! Road trip! You driving, Shoemaker?”
“Of course, you mooch.” They ribbed each other all the way to the truck.
The nearest town was Bladesburg and the local grocery store was Bob’s Bargain Barn. They split up to cover their list. Larry went to peruse the selection at the meat counter while Frannie tracked down the bug spray. With that item secured, she went to find Larry. She grabbed him by the arm.
Larry started. “Careful, I get accosted by women in these stores all the time. It’s made me pretty jumpy.”
Frannie snorted. “Right, I just thought of something. We’ve got to do something about a cake for Jane Ann tonight.”
He picked up two packages of rib eyes. “We passed a bakery coming in. I could come back—make some excuse—and get a cake.”
Frannie shook her head. “It’s so warm today and we don’t have anywhere to keep it where it won’t get ruined. Besides, I saw that place, too, and there was a closed sign in the window.”
“I’ll find something.” He headed toward the bakery department.
She caught up with him as he loaded a pile of packaged cupcakes and Twinkies into a cart.
He handed her the keys. “I’ll find some candles and we can stack these up to make a cake. Put your stuff in here and go wait for Mickey and Jane Ann to finish. You can let them in the truck so they don’t watch me check out.”
Mickey and Jane Ann stood in the checkout line.
Frannie gave Jane Ann the keys. “Larry is agonizing over which kind of steak, so go ahead when you’re done. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Mickey started to leave the line. “He probably needs my advice.”
“Get back in line,” Frannie ordered. “If you go back there, it’ll take even longer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted.
She shook her head and moved over to peruse a magazine rack.
The Ferarros went out and Larry finally peaked around the corner. “Is the coast clear?”
“Yup. Good thing I brought my canvas shopping bag so she can’t tell what we have.”
Larry smirked. “I found some of those candles that you can’t blow out. You know, they keep relighting.”
“You are such a good brother.” Frannie started unloading the cart onto the conveyor belt.
They made it back to the campground without Jane Ann appearing suspicious. Frannie moved the sacks into their tent and returned to the area around the fire. Larry rummaged in the back of his truck for fishing gear, while Mickey got a pole ready.
“Want to walk down to the beach and see how the girls are doing?” Frannie asked Jane Ann.
“Sure. I know they’ll be glad to see us—especially if there’re any boys there.” She grinned and redid her ponytail to remedy stray hair flying around her face.
The path to the beach led through trees and underbrush. Frannie enjoyed the sun playing among the leaves, but kept an eye open for snakes. They reached the beach area and were surprised to find a fairly large crowd. Their daughters were at the far end, sitting on beach towels. Jane Ann’s prediction was right. Two teenaged boys sat next to them. The girls laughed as the boys staged a shoving match for their appreciative audience.
Sally said to the others, “I’m getting warm. Let’s go in the water.” She looked up. “Oh, hi, Mom! This is Greg and Brian. They both play football for Jackson City.” She stuck out her tongue at them and then laughed. Jackson City was Perfection Falls’ major rival in football.
“Yeah, you just wait ’til next fall,” one of the boys said.
The girls got to their f
eet, brushing off sand, and Mona dashed toward the water. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” In spite of the football rivalry, or because of it, the boys followed.
Frannie and Jane Ann moved back to the edge of the beach, under overarching trees, and found seats on a huge log. The sun sparkled on the water and the musical laughter of the bathers reached them.
Frannie stretched out her legs and leaned back on her arms. “Beautiful.”
“Isn’t it? Really, you guys should join us more often.”
“I know.” Frannie sighed. “It is nice, but a lot of work for a little relaxation. Besides, Sam is so busy in the summer with baseball, and—you know.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Jane Ann said.
“I just can’t see Larry going for it on a regular basis.”
“Maybe not.”
They watched the frolicking on the beach and in the water. Then Jane Ann checked her watch. “I probably should go get the lunch stuff out.”
They ambled back to the campsite. Frannie followed Jane Ann’s directions to locate sandwich material when a brown Department of Natural Resources truck pulled up. The ranger got out, followed by Sam and Trent.
“These two belong to you?”
“What did they do?” Frannie countered.
“Mom,” Sam said. “Why would you say that?”
The ranger put his foot up on the picnic table bench, rested one arm on his knee, and clasped his hands. “They just got a little lost.”
“We weren’t lost exactly,” Trent said. “We weren’t sure where we were.”
“We got turned around when we crossed the dam,” Sam said. “Guess what Mom! There’s a fishing contest this afternoon and a scavenger hunt.”
The ranger smiled at them. “Well, good luck. I’ll leave you to your lunch.”
“Did you bring fishing gear?” Frannie asked Sam.
“I think Dad did. Hey, Dad!” Sam loped toward the dock, where Larry and Mickey were putting away their gear. Trent followed. By the time they reached the dock, they were trying to push each other in the lake.
Frannie sighed and looked at Jane Ann. “Hopeless.”
As the men returned to the campsite, Mickey scoffed at the lunch makings arranged on the picnic table.
“You were assuming we cavemen wouldn’t provide a fish lunch for our beloved families?”
Jane Ann raised her eyebrows and looked at him sideways as she continued to set out food. “Were we wrong?”
“Welll—“
“Sam, go fetch the girls from the beach,” Frannie said. The boys took off on a run again. “Wish they’d move that fast when I have a real job for them.”