Part 4 (1/2)
However, when Nick's friends, upon seeing their buddy wedged behind the tiny two-spoke steering wheel, dubbed him Magilla Gorilla, Nick declared to his wife that although he was still available to drive the Fortwo when needed, he fully intended on purchasing a manlier automobile just as soon as their finances would allow.
”Looks like we're here,” he announced as he threw the transmission into park and immediately stretched out his arms.
The high beams of both the truck and car shone brightly upon a single-story house with a front porch. Clad with unfinished wooden planking, the weathered gray exterior of the structure was punctuated in the front by a solid door and two mismatched windows. In the rear of the building stood a small shed, and in the front yard area sat three Adirondack chairs and a wooden table with two metal spikes that stuck up from either end.
”This is camp?” Stella questioned. ”I expected to see tents.”
”Seriously?” Nick looked at her and shook his head.
”Why not? When my friends used to go camping, they brought tents and sleeping bags.”
”This is a hunting camp, not a Boy Scout jamboree. The guys who use this place aren't making s'mores.”
”Whatever,” Stella shrugged. ”It's a pleasant surprise, at least. An actual house instead of a big tent. And look, there's even a picnic table. Now that it's stopped raining, we might be able to drink our coffee out there in the morning. We'd have to be careful where we put our cups, but still ...”
”Those spikes are there because that's not a picnic table, it's a skinning table.”
”A skinning table? What's-” Stella was about to ask what a skinning table was when its purpose suddenly became clear. ”Oh! That would explain why there are no benches with it, wouldn't it?”
”Yeah, it kinda would.” Nick exited the driver's-side door and, flashlight in hand, helped Stella out of the pa.s.senger side before leading the way to the front door, where Alma stood waiting.
”Here we are,” she declared as she opened the front door. ”Hunter's paradise!”
”I can't see anything,” Stella stated. ”Where's the light switch?”
By the dim light of her flashlight, Alma managed to find her way inside. ”This is our light switch,” she stated as she ignited a red cigarette lighter. Placing her flashlight on a nearby surface, she held the lighter beneath a dangling white object and reached into the darkness with the other.
Within moments, the white object glowed with a light similar to that of a standard 60-watt bulb.
Nick recognized the source immediately. ”Gas lamps, huh?”
”Of course. Can't get electricity out here.”
As Alma lit the rest of the gas lamps, the remainder of the room became visible. Approximately eleven feet wide and seventeen feet deep, the cabin was rustic in every sense of the word. Sheets of particle board bearing traces of dirt, blood, and other unidentifiable substances served as flooring, while the ceilings-if they could be called that-consisted only of bare rafters naked of both plasterboard and insulation.
A corner of the back wall had been fitted with one white hanging cupboard, one knotty pine base cabinet with sink, a two-burner stove, and a large metal cooler to serve as a makes.h.i.+ft cooking area. Meanwhile, the front portion of the s.p.a.ce was furnished as a living room, replete with a duct-tape-plastered avocado green recliner, a collapsible snack tray that subbed for an end table, and a threadbare sofa upholstered in a bicentennial-era ”Spirit of '76”-themed fabric.
Stella felt as though she had stepped into the bas.e.m.e.nt on That '70s Show, but she remained positive and gracious. Given the current lodging situation, she was glad to have a roof-even if it were uninsulated-over her head. ”Quite cozy. Where's the bedroom?”
”You're standing in it,” Alma replied with a nod at the sofa. ”That there's a pull-out bed. Don't know if there's sheets on it, but I have some blankets in my truck.”
”We brought our blankets too,” Nick quickly interjected, ”so we should be fine. Right, honey?”
”Absolutely. All I really want right now is to eat those sandwiches you fixed, have a hot shower-”
”Oh, there's no shower,” Alma corrected. ”The only water out here is from a gravity-fed spring. Ice cold and hard enough to turn your blond hair bright green. If you want to get cleaned up, stop by my shop in the morning. I'll give you the key to my doublewide.”
”Your what?”
”My doublewide trailer. Raymond and I are both out of the house by six, so there'll be no fighting for the bathroom,” she explained with a smile.
”A shower would be terrific. Thank you, Alma.”
”Yeah, thanks for your help,” Nick added. ”I don't know where we would have gone if you hadn't stepped in.”
”Ain't nothing,” Alma dismissed with a wave of her hand. ”Now if you'd just grab your suitcases outta my truck, I'll get going and let you folks rest up.”
Stella and Nick followed Alma to her truck, retrieved their suitcases, and after a few words of parting, went back inside the camp.
”Well, this isn't quite where I expected to end our day,” Stella sighed.
Nick set the flashlight on the snack table and instantly burst into laughter.
”What? Why are you laughing?”
”Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think you'd wind up sleeping in a hunting camp.”
”Believe me, I had no intention of proving you wrong. But you know what? I can make do for one night. Sometimes it's good to step outside your comfort zone.”
”Uh-huh. And after the one night?”
”I'm a smart woman. I'll figure out all this wilderness stuff.”
”I'm sure you will.” He laughed even harder. ”Even though you thought we'd be sleeping in a tent and singing campfire songs.”
”I did not! Well, okay, maybe I did expect a tent, but not a Girl Scout sort of thing. I imagined something closer to what you'd see at an archeological dig or a nature photo shoot, not,” she began to chuckle, ”my grandma's rec room in cabin form. Seriously, everything in here dates to the Ford administration.”
”Hey, don't knock it,” Nick said and flopped onto the couch, his hands behind his head. ”My parents had a sofa like this when I was growing up. Used to bring girls back to the house to watch TV and, you know ...”
”Yeah, I know.” Stella rolled her eyes.
”I tell you, between my brother and me, that sofa saw a lot of action.”
”I'm sure it did. Maybe not as much action as you told people”-Nick glared at her-”but I'm sure it had its fair share. Just don't expect to re-create any of those make-out sessions tonight-at least not until you throw a few blankets over that thing.”
”Don't worry, you're safe. Nothing puts a damper on the mood like discovering a corpse.”
”Ugh. Don't remind me.” She s.h.i.+vered and picked up the flashlight from the snack table.
”Where are you going?”
”The outhouse. I haven't gone since the closing.”