Wilderness Paradise Pt. 01

"Yes, ma'am! No fighting, I promise." I assured her as she disappeared behind the curtains.

"Is she giving you a hard time? My mom's bark is worse than her bite!" Ellen offered and then asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing ... nothing really. Some of the boys at the Lucky 8 didn't take too kindly to my being there."

She made a face and then said, "They get a bit wild on the weekends. Was it Ricky? He gets mean when he drinks. They are really not a bad bunch. We know most of them ..."

My head was still hurting and I didn't like being ambushed but I wasn't going to argue the point, "I'm sure they are very nice – they just have a strange way of showing it!"

She smiled, giving me a commiserating look, and finished checking me in then handed me a heavy brass key-tag with the room number stamped on it and a set of old fashioned keys. I liked the fact that the keys were the real kind, not the ubiquitous electronic cards that seemed to have taken over the universe. These were in keeping with the ambience of the place and instilled a sense of provincial realness.

"The larger key, the brass colored one, is for the door and the smaller silver key opens the safe deposit box. Your room is to the right when you go out," she said, pointing to the front door and indicating eastwards, "Breakfast is from 6:30 AM to 10:00 AM. The dining room is on the other side," she turned pointing south and a little behind her, "and we have coffee all day. It's in the kitchen ... you can come in through the back."

"Thanks."

I picked up my duffle and backpack and was about to head out when she said, "This is not the best time to be hiking up there ... the bears are out and if you don't know how to deal with them it can be dangerous."

I would have left without saying anything but I liked her and after last night's experience, I could use a friend here.

I turned and smiled at her, "We were up in Alaska last year ... on Kodiak Island. There were more bears than people! Rachael can take care of herself."

She gave me a condescending look like I was a bumbling idiot and didn't know what I was up against, "These are grizzlies!"

"The Kodiak bears are grizzlies' too ... big, nasty fellas!" I retorted, "Listen, I appreciate the warning, Ellen, but trust me, we'll be fine."

"Okay ... it's just that when a tourist gets mauled by a bear, business goes to hell! And we all depend on the tourist trade. A few years ago a girl went missing and we came close to shutting this place down!"

"Believe me, I understand and we'll be careful." I reassured her, "Did they ever find her, the girl, I mean?"

"No, there was no sign of her. I remember watching the news every morning, hoping that they would find her. The media covered her like she was a celebrity ... I knew all there was to know about Dora Mayer. She was an experienced climber from England working for some investment group ... a beautiful black girl."

She paused then continued, "The sheriff and the forest rangers wanted to make sure they did everything to find her but when there was no sign of her after a week, the interest died down and then there was no more mention of Dora."

"That's comforting!"

"The rangers kept looking ... long after the story was not headline news. I know that Sheriff Morgan still goes up there looking, hoping to find her remains ... to bring closure for her family."

"Wow!" I exclaimed wondering what the family must be going through.

"That's what I mean ... you really should go with an experienced group or take a guide," she said, her concern obvious in her voice.

"We'll be careful, Ellen, trust me..." I reiterated and then asked, "Do you know a Daniel Benn?"

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Everyone knows Danny! He's sort of a legend in these parts and he would be the best person to talk to. Go down a mile or so on the main road," she said, pointing eastwards and sounding relieved, "and you'll see a white building on your left, Benn's Hardware. You can't miss it. Danny could tell you everything you need to know about these mountains – he knows every trail like the back of his hand."

A legend? Nice.

"Much obliged!"

"I'm not sure if Danny is free but taking him along would be a real smart thing," she persisted.

I smiled and gave her a friendly wave and left. Inexplicably, my headache felt much better so I decided to give the famous Daniel Benn a visit after a hot shower ... I felt grungy like a longshoreman at the end of a long day.

*****

Benn's Hardware & Goods Store

I stood outside on the gravel driveway and studied the building. Log houses and cabins were an interest of mine and this one was a beauty. It was large structure made from aged Western Red Cedar and must have been somebody's home before it had been converted into a store. The pitched, multi-leveled slate roof and large windows indicated that this was custom built in the early to mid-1900s. The white paint on the main façade was peeling in places but other than that it was well maintained. There was a large, black sign-board with bold, gold lettering announcing its name and just under it was the door with a small Signum bell that rang with rural hospitality whether you were going in or coming out and a brass kick-plate on the bottom that had seen better days.

I walked in to the tinny clatter of the bell that echoed through the high arching interior. Some of the walls on the inside had been knocked down to provide for racks and shelving but the skylights and high ceilings gave it a light and airy ambience and despite the changes it had managed to cling to its rustic character. There were two other shoppers burrowing through wooden bins filled with Sale items but other than that the place was empty.

"Hello, can I help you?"

It was a rich, feminine voice and belonged to a large, big-boned woman who was in her early thirties and was almost as tall as me. She had dark, auburn hair and sea green eyes and a plump, pleasant face. She was wearing a loose blouse and country skirt that came halfway down to her calves.

"Hi," I replied smiling, "I am looking for Daniel Benn ... I was told I could find him here."

"Danny's in the back ... we're expecting our winter stock. Maybe I can help you? I'm Laura, Danny's sister."

I fished out the crumpled bill from my pocket and handed it to her and said, "I'm here to square up."

She studied the piece of paper straightening out the edges when I heard heavy footsteps.

"Well, well, well ... if it isn't the feisty, little bugger himself!"

It was a loud, booming voice that reverberated from the back and fit the giant that ambled in after it. He was the second largest man I'd ever seen. I wondered what they were feeding these boys here because this guy was almost as enormous as the Klondike gorilla I had taken on.

"Do you two know each other?" the woman asked, looking surprised.

"We've met ... well, sort of. Mr. Meacham here stopped by at the Lucky 8 last night," he turned to me and said, "I took the liberty to check your wallet while you were snoozing."

"Oh boy!" was all the woman said handing the bill over to her brother then shaking her head and smiling she walked back behind the counter.

Man, he was big. Even crouched and leaning back he towered over me. His eyes were a brilliant green and his hair was thick and curly, the color of burnished copper, like his sister's but unlike her soft features, his face was chiseled, seemingly cut from stone. There was soft stubble on his chin that hid a scar that ran down from his lip. His shoulders were wide and thick and the black leather belt pulled tightly over a slim, flat waistline. His legs were like redwoods, long and powerful. Images of Paul Bunyan came to mind and I half expected a blue bull to come trampling in.

"You don't look the worse for wear!" He said nonchalantly, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his Dickies and a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, sure ... if it wasn't for some rat-faced Cannuck with the balls of a badger I wouldn't have to be here today!" I said still scathing from the cheap-shot.

"Now, now ... we couldn't have some little ferret from the wrong side of the border take out Big John, could we? I mean, what would people think?"

"That you fuckers can't fight?" I offered without hesitating.

He let out a roar, a bellowing laugh that rumbled from his belly, his eyes crinkling up and stuck out his hand, "Daniel Benn! Danny to my friends."

I shook his hand and felt the strength of a working man. He squeezed, vice like, and I squeezed back. We stood testing our grips like two thirteen-year-olds in a schoolyard. I could feel my knuckles begin to grind. This was silly, fucking juvenile and I had to do something before he crushed my hand.

"Hey, why don't we just cut the bull and whip it out and see whose is bigger?" I said sarcastically.

He laughed again, loud and unrepressed. Then slapping me on my shoulder, "That's great! I like you, Luke ... I don't know ya but I like ya! Come on, let's go get some breakfast – your buying. We can call it quits," he crumpled up the bill and tossed it into the garbage bin and continued, "I know this place that serves up the best damn flapjacks!"

He lead the way towards the door then turned, winked and added, "And, the prettiest waitress in all of North America!"

Something told me that I would be coughing up more for this tab than a dinner at Le Perroquet.

*****

The camp - Dangerous Shadows

The evening had turned suddenly colder at the fading of twilight. There was a piercing nip to the mountain air that cut through pullovers and coats chilling the body to the bone and forcing the hikers into the sanctuary of their tents. Through the translucent fabric you could see the puppet shadows dancing in distorted sequences while they readied themselves for bed – Andy and Susan in one tent and Kyla and Rachael in the other.

"There was someone or something out there wasn't there?" Kyla asked snuggled up in the warmth of her sleeping bag, "I know there was. It felt like we were being watched."

There was just enough room in the tent for the two sleeping bags, the heater, a Coleman's ProCat and the small, solar night lamp that stood in the aisle in between them.

"I'm not sure ... there could've been. It certainly wasn't a bear or a squirrel." Rachael replied hunched over the ProCat adjusting the flame, "Can you feel the heat? I'm going to turn off the fan ... I don't want to drain the batteries."

"Yeah, that's fine," Kyla replied then added, "If it's those assholes we passed earlier, I've got my knife and the pepper spray so ..." Kyla said softly.

"You full of piss and vinegar aren't you? Don't worry, it's probably nothing ..." Rachael answered trying to sound reassuring and pulled the blanket around her shifting in the confined tightness of the sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable.

They were quiet, lying still listening to the night sounds of the wilderness. There was a certain comfort to be found in the chirring resonance of the crickets and cicada that hummed to the plaintive howling of a distant wolf. It was nature's symphony stirred by sudden gusts of wind that shed, in its wake, the heavy rustling of leaves, a sibilant hiss that built to a crescendo before dying down to an eerie silence. Then as if resurrected in protest, an answering bark of a dog joined the crickets in their incessant chirr, chirr, chirring filling the darkness while the rest of night's creatures scavenged the boscage in stealth.

They heard the dog bark again, a probing, questioning bark, responding to the haunting cries of his half-brother, the wolf.

"That's Sam ..." Kyla whispered.

Samantha was Kyla's Golden Retriever. She had disappeared a few years ago and despite a sustained and intensive search that had been sweetened by a handsome reward, she had never been found.

"Do you still miss her?" Rachael asked feeling sorry for her friend.

"I miss her every day ... every single minute!"

"I'm sorry, Kyla ... I really am. I miss her too ... she was so beautiful!"

They fell quiet for a while before Rachael asked, "Why don't you get another one ... Luke says a puppy will take your mind off of Sam."

"I've thought about it but I can't, not yet anyway. I don't want to get a puppy and keep comparing her to Sam."

They fell quiet again, comfortable with each other and the familiarity bred over their lifetime.

"Rach? Are you awake?"

"Yes."

"It's Andy and Sue ... they look an awful lot like each other. They are they related, aren't they?"

Rachael was quiet. She wasn't sure if she should confide in Kyla. It was very personal and unless she could empathize with them, it was bound to color her perspective and possibly affect the relationship adversely.

"She's his sister, right?" Kyla persisted.

"Yes. They are twins." Rachael confirmed reluctantly.

The ensuing silence was uncomfortably deafening. From the moment Kyla had met the twins she knew there was something unusual about them. She had wanted to pursue this but could never find the right moment. She also knew that something had transpired between Rachael and Luke after their Prom, something that had affected their relationship but that night was strictly off limits. It was an unspoken contract between them that barred them from ever broaching the subject. The condition had been set by Rachael and one that Kyla agreed to honor. It had taken a while to mend the breach and both of them never wanted that to happen again. Kyla, especially, didn't want to lose Rachael.

"You know that they've been making love every evening, don't you?" Kyla asked.

"It is easy to judge things you don't or can't empathize with ... I used to do that and it's a trap. Passing judgment is how we demean others; put them down so we can feel better about ourselves." Rachael said as though talking to herself.

"I want to understand, Rach, I really do," Kyla said whispering across the darkness, "Please talk to me ... please? What happened? I mean, between Luke and ..."

And then they heard the scream.

*****

The Grease Pit Roadhouse

We were at a small cabin that passed for a restaurant. It was a tiny, one-room affair with only three tables and a counter with just enough room to squeeze in an additional two people. The large, gaping door behind the counter lead to the kitchen which allowed the tantalizing smell of bacon and eggs mixed with fresh coffee to waft in to the main dining room. Every seat was taken with people lined up outside drinking coffee from large stainless steel mugs while waiting to be seated. And there were yet others in the porch eating their breakfasts standing up, using their fingers to roll up the pancakes like burritos, dipping them into their eggs before wolfing them down. They had their coffee mugs balanced precariously on windowsills and railings and every now and then a young girl would come out with a pot of coffee to refill their mugs and chat. It was obvious that they all knew each other.

When we got in, Danny ducked behind the counter and came back with a plate of giant, twisted crullers and two mugs of coffee.

"Try this ... and tell me if this ain't the best!" he said biting off half the sugar roll.

We ate the delicious cinnamon flavored donuts, sipping coffee and making small talk. He had seen Rachael and had tried talking to her but she had brushed him off – something he couldn't understand. He was of the opinion that most women were flattered that he would pay attention to them and it was obvious that the man wasn't short on confidence. He also let me know that I had damaged Big John's knee, as if that was some consolation, and the kicks had piqued his interest in martial arts.

"What are you? A black belt?" he asked.

"Something like that," I replied.

"You think it would work on me?" he asked in all seriousness looking straight into my eyes.

There was an innocence to him that was endearing; the naiveté of a little boy trying to test his limits.

"You wouldn't stand a chance, big man, unless one of your bitches pulled the same shit!" I replied and I meant it.

"We should give it a tumble, what do you say?" he asked, smiling widely.

We were back in the schoolyard trying to figure out who was the alpha-dog.

"Anytime, anywhere ... you call it." I challenged, staring right back at him, my expression turning cold.

He laughed out loud and slapped my back so hard that I was sure he had dislocated my neck. I could feel the bones in my toes jarring from the impact.

"You're one tough, little bugger, aren't you?" he espoused.

Then thankfully we were seated. I don't think I could have handled another slap on the back! What was quickly becoming clear to me was being this bloke's friend was hazardous to your health.

"Eat up, little man, this is the best there is," Daniel Benn said drenching his pancakes with maple syrup, the dark amber liquid flooding over into his plate. And then he dug in.

I was in awe. That was the word for it. I watched with a reluctant admiration, something that was normally reserved for extreme feats of strength or skill. There was a primordial aspect to the way he attacked his food, an unrestrained joy that demanded your attention and appreciation.

Everything he had said about the flapjacks was true – they were the best I had tasted but one plate of three gargantuan pancakes was as much as I could muster. And, he was right about the waitress too. She was a beauty; a dark, dusky gypsy with eyes that bore through you, hair as black as coal and a body that could kill. Her golden-brown skin gleamed with the sheen of perspiration from the heat of the kitchen and the pink dress was cut low and a size too small. Her breasts, which were spectacular, strained rebelliously against the buttons in the front threatening to pop them at the slightest whim.

"I'm brewing a fresh pot of coffee, Danny," she said placing another plate of pancakes in front of the giant.

In all, he had eaten six eggs, nine pancakes, two heaps of hash-browns and a cruller. He was on his third mug of coffee when he belched loudly, patted his belly and grinned, "Man, that was good!"

I had to shake my head, "You could feed a small nation with what you just chowed down, fella!"

The waitress came back with the pot of coffee and refilled Danny's cup. I waved her off – I couldn't handle more than two cups in the morning.

"Thanks, Dee," he said and smiled, "hey, what do you think of my little friend here? Huh?"

She looked at me with a steady gaze, carefully scrutinizing me then smiled a brilliant, white smile.

"Cute! Cuter than those hooligans you hang out with!" she said and then came over and stood next to me, "Not married are you?" she asked me.

I shook my head and winked at her, "No ma'am, at least not yet! But who knows ... you could change all that!"

"Oh, you're a sweet talker, Yank ... go on with the two of you! Like peas in a pod!" she said and then noticing me staring at her cleavage she added with a smile, "You're not getting any so get your mind out of the gutter!"

I couldn't resist. I quoted Shakespeare (Romeo and Juliet).

"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds

that sees into the bottom of my grief?"

She smiled, gave me the finger and left.

Danny laughed and thumped the table. I was just glad that I was too far away for him to do that friendly 'slap on the back' thing. We watched her disappear into the kitchen appreciative of the tight, round butt that wiggled with the studied gait of a man-killer! She knew exactly what she was doing.

Danny scratched his head and mused, "My, my, my ... who'd have thunk it? Old man Brennan's scrawny little gal would turn into this!"

And he rolled his eyes looking skyward.