Chapter Seven
The dumping and refill of the tanks took almost an hour. The kids went off to explore the area while Frannie and Jane Ann watched the proceedings from lawn chairs. Jane Ann brought out a bag of chips and a container of dip.
“It’s probably too early for wine, isn’t it?” Frannie said.
Jane Ann laughed. “Maybe we should wait until we get your camper cleaned up and in order. Although it’s tempting.”
Frannie shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think camping is for us.”
“Nonsense! Everyone goes through some beginner’s pains.”
“But this much? So far we forgot to unplug the cord, close the refrigerator tight, shut off the faucets and pump—and we aren’t even set up yet.”
“It’ll get better. At least it’s not raining.”
A crack of thunder exploded above them. Large drops of rain plopped around them and on their heads.
Jane Ann jumped up. “Quick—inside!” She grabbed the chips and dip while Frannie folded the lawn chairs and stuck them under the Ferraros’ trailer. They ducked inside, wiping raindrops from their faces. Larry and Mickey weren’t far behind.
“Where are the kids?” Mickey dried off with a towel Jane Ann gave him.
Jane Ann grimaced. “They went to check things out around the park. I imagine the rain will bring them back pretty quickly.”
“I hope so.” Frannie peered out the window. “It doesn’t seem to be letting up at all.”
The drumming on the roof almost made normal conversation impossible. The rain went on and Larry went back and forth to check tanks and hoses. But the kids didn’t appear.
“Maybe I should take the truck and look for them,” Mickey said.
Jane Ann didn’t hesitate. “Good idea!” She grabbed his raincoat off a hook by the door and handed it to him.
He shrugged into the coat. “Aren’t you going to try and talk me out of it?”
“No. Get going!”
“I’m sure they’re okay,” Mickey protested, as she gave him a gentle push out the door.
“Should I go too?” Larry asked.
“No,” Jane Ann said. “If you did, there wouldn’t be room for all of them to ride back.”
Frannie watched out the window as Mickey drove away, and then turned to Larry.
“How are you coming on the setup?”
“The gray water tank is empty and the fresh water is filling.” He looked at his watch. “I need to go back out in about five minutes, rain or no rain. It should be done by then.”
By the time he went to check the water, Mickey had not returned, but the rain had started to let up.
“Do you think the kids are okay?” Frannie asked.
Jane Ann was arranging a large bouquet of daisies and lilies that she had brought from home. “What? Oh, sure. They may be awfully wet but I’m sure they’re fine.”
“I hope so. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“No, just getting a few things out. These will go on the picnic table when the rain quits. Then we’ll go mop up your floor. There’s a bucket and some rags in that closet back there. Fill it up with some soap and water here because it will take a while for yours to heat up.”
Frannie did as she was told, grateful to have a task that she could complete without screw ups. She hoped. Scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees gave her something to do while she fretted about the kids. What if one of them fell off a trail and was seriously hurt?
Jane Ann went back and forth to get fresh buckets of water and they finished just as the rain quit. Larry announced they now had water, as Mickey pulled back in the campsites with a truckload of teenagers.
The kids piled out, laughing and soaking wet.
Mickey gave a wry grin. “They found a shelter and were pretty dry until I made them come back out in the rain to get in the truck.”
Since it was a Friday, the campground was filling up. A small fifth-wheel backed into a site across the road from the Ferraros and the Shoemakers. Two children roamed the campsite while the parents set up chairs, a utility table, and a small awning. The boy looked about eight and helped his father string some lights.
The girl was younger with black hair cut short and large dark eyes. She stood at the edge of the road, staring at the Shoemaker campsite, twirling what appeared to be a pair of handcuffs around her fingers. Other than the hand movements, she was as still as a statue.
“Wow.” Sally came up behind her mother’s lawn chair. “She’s kind of spooky.”
Frannie looked at her in surprise. Sally always loved children. As the baby of the family, she had wished for a younger sibling.
When she was about three, two Sundays in a row featured an infant baptism in their church service. After the second, Sally wanted to know if they could take the baby home. Something about the ritual of passing the baby from parents to minister and back again, everyone looking at the baby, touching it on the head, and passing the baby around after the service, made Sally think that church was sort of like a pet store for babies.
“Maybe she’s just kind of lonesome,” Frannie said. But she shuddered a little as the girl just continued to stare in their direction, not really focused on anything.
“You’re right. I’ll go talk to her.”
Sally wandered across the road. “Hi! My name’s Sally. Is this your first camping trip?”
The girl continued to stare into the distance and spin the handcuffs.
Sally persisted. “What’s your name?”
Nothing.
The mother looked up and saw Sally. “Lyssa! Come here.”
Sally got the message, said, “See you later,” and returned to her own campsite. As she did, the mother walked over, put her hands on the girl’s shoulders, turned her around, and marched her back to the camper.
“What do you think? She never even looked at me,” Sally said to Frannie.
“Either she will take a little while to come around and speak to you, or she has a problem that you can’t fix.”
“What do you mean?”
Frannie shook her head. “Could be a lot of things. Some kind of disability—or maybe just very shy.”
They didn’t see any more of the family across the way that evening. They sat around the crackling fire, full and satisfied, after cleaning up the supper of hot dogs and hamburgers. The rain was done and the stars sparkled.
Frannie reflected that maybe camping was like childbirth. You had to go through a lot of pain to get to the pleasant moments like this. Was it worth it? Maybe.
Saturday morning dawned warm and still, with a promise of heat to come. Frannie rose first and drank in the sun creeping through the trees along with her fragrant coffee. She loved early mornings.
A slightly disreputable-looking green pickup with a topper over the back sat at the end of the road tucked into a site against the trees. It hadn’t been there when they went to bed so it must have come in during the night.
As Frannie watched, the door in the back opened and a man of indeterminate age stepped out, looking as scruffy as the truck. He glanced around at the campground and moved a box from the ground behind the truck into the passenger seat. Then he locked the truck and disappeared into the trees.
Frannie waited for him to reappear but gave up and turned her attention to a flock of Canadian geese landing on the lake.
The kids had wanted to make pancakes, so she supervised Sam while he mixed up the batter in the camper. Food prep in even this tiny kitchen was worlds above using bowls balanced on overturned coolers.
They would do the actual cooking outside, so she sent Sam with the dripping bowl out to Mickey’s tutelage. Mickey had a large griddle propped on the fire ring and would instruct Sam in the fine art of pancake flipping.
Sally helped Mona and Justine in the bacon department. Jane Ann had plugged a large electric skillet into an outside outlet on their trailer and placed it on a folding table that the girls could crowd around. Fro
m the discussion, it sounded like too many chiefs and not enough Indians.
When the bacon was done, Mickey used the skillet to fry a few eggs. They gathered at the picnic table and concentrated for a few minutes on passing syrup and butter and building towers of cakes, eggs and bacon.
They were really getting down to business when a woman’s voice caused them all to look up. “Good morning!” It was the woman from across the road.
“Good morning,” Jane Ann said.
The woman focused on Sally. “I just wanted to apologize for scaring you away last night.”
“Tha’s okay,” Sally mumbled, her mouth full of pancake and her tone wary.
“I know you were just being friendly,” the woman went on, “so I want to explain. Lyssa is autistic and she’s also partially blind from birth.”
Sally’s face softened, and she wiped her mouth. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”
The woman held up her hands. “Don’t be. She’s a delightful child. She loves camping because she’s fascinated by birds. I won’t interrupt your breakfast any more—I just wanted you to know I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just—” she paused and gave a little forced laugh, “things can get a little tense when we’re setting up, and I’m so worried she’ll wander off.”
“We know about tension when setting up,” Jane assured her.
This time the woman’s laugh was genuine. “Thank you. My name is Teri, by the way. Come and visit whenever you see us out.” She nodded at Sally.
After she was gone, Sally said, “Now I feel terrible.”
Frannie put her arm around her daughter. “Don’t. You were just trying to be nice, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Sally forked in a couple more bites of pancake and chewed thoughtfully. Then she brightened. “Maybe I could talk to her about birds.”
“Good idea. You are kind of a bird-brain,” Sam said.
Mona threw a chunk of pancake at him and Frannie glared at both of them. “That’s a wonderful idea, Sally.”
Jane Ann got up from the table and gave Mona’s arm a good-humored tug. “You and Sam are the committee to clear the table and do the dishes.”
The mothers had their backs turned when Sally stuck her tongue out at Sam.
“When that’s done,” Mickey said, “we’re going on a family hike. There’re great trails here.”
Mona and Justine groaned. “We already explored yesterday,” Justine said.
Mickey held up a finger. “Ah, but you got caught in the rain. Did you get to the caves?”
“Caves?” Mona asked, and then clapped a hand over her mouth.
Mickey was triumphant. “See? You barely scratched the surface. Get the dishes done and then fill your water bottles and find your scruffiest shoes. We’re going spelunking!”
The teenagers exchanged eye-rolls and headed off to do their tasks.
They gathered again around the picnic table twenty minutes later. Mickey had a park map spread on the table and pointed out the trail they were going to take. Sam tweaked Justine’s hair and Sally shoved him.
Mickey placed a stubby finger on a point on the map. “We can at least go as far as this cave this morning. Watch out for poison ivy. And bears.”
He got Sam’s attention. “Bears?”
Jane Ann waved her hand. “He’s lying. But there is poison ivy.”
As they headed toward the trailhead, Frannie noticed that the family across the road was outside. Lyssa sat in a lawn chair scuffing her heels in the dirt, while her mother worked on a cooking project near the fire. Sally dropped back to Frannie.
“I’m going to stop and say hi, okay? I’ll catch up.”
“Sure.”
Frannie glanced over her shoulder several times to see Sally reach the campsite and talk to the little girl. Lyssa turned her head toward Sally seemingly interested.
A few minutes later, Sally came panting up beside Frannie. “Can I skip the hike? I mentioned birds to her, and I think I made a connection.”
Her mother smiled at her. “Absolutely. We’ll miss you, but I’ll be anxious to hear how it goes when we get back.”
Sally dashed off again.
Jane Ann fell in step beside Frannie. “She can’t resist a sparrow with a broken wing, can she?”
Frannie shook her head. “Never could.”
Sally had gone through the usual career choices as a preteen: figure skater, pet store owner, rock star, and video game designer. After a church mission trip the previous year she decided that she wanted to be a social worker. This goal remained constant for an astonishing eight months.
She had developed a special affinity for small children with disabilities. During the spring, she had volunteered as an aide at the elementary school.
The first section of the trail led downhill toward the river. Some times the sun dappled the ground ahead like an usher’s flashlight in a theatre and then ducked behind clouds leaving the path in gloom.
Sam entertained himself by hiding behind trees and jumping out at Mona and Justine.
“Looks like we should have brought someone along for Sam to pal around with,” Frannie said. “But we thought for this first trip, we shouldn’t subject outsiders.”
Jane Ann grinned. “I’m guessing that the girls are egging him on. They like to scream.”
At the river, the path turned uphill to wind around gullies, along a ridge, and back down into a glen. There they walked along a boardwalk built into the side of the cliff until they reached a large opening.
Frannie opted to wait outside while the others explored the cave. As she sat on a boulder in the shade, she wondered how Sally was succeeding in her friendship attempt with little Lyssa.