“You bet. Oldies but goodies. And Ping-Pong, pool, even that football game, you know, with—”
“Foosball,” Jack added.
“Yes, foosball. Now, past there, we have the nature trails. Nothing too big since we need to keep everything and everyone well within the camp’s confines. Still, good safe places for a little walk or to explore.”
Ed turned around and started walking back to the main lodge.
But Jack had noticed a road up on a hill, past the parking area, nearly hidden by the trees.
“What’s over there? By the cars. That road?”
Ed barely tossed a glance back. “Our service road. Maintenance buildings. Laundry. Storage. Landscaping and so on. Nothing fun.”
Ed pointed ahead.
“You’ve seen the Great Lodge. We all eat together in the big dining hall. Sometimes there are special announcements, sometimes we play some games. Like I said, good food and good fun—and good
Already, Jack thought, the dark streets of Red Hook were starting to look better.
As beautiful as it all was, this was alien terrain for him. And they were caged in.
With this much-too-jolly Ed Lowe as the keeper.
Still, Christie seemed wide-eyed at it. The kids looked like they loved it.
And Jack kept thinking of Ed’s assistant. Shana.
Funny how guys work, he thought.
“Okay, let’s see your digs. Cabin seven. Great view from there. Come on!”
* * *
“If I may…” Ed took the key from Christie.
He opened the door and they walked in.
The cabin was a picture from a hundred years ago. Homemade furniture, a woven rug, a 1950s-style Formica kitchen table. Small hallway leading to bedrooms.
“No TV at all?” Kate asked.
“Sorry, miss. No stations operating anywhere near us. Get some radio, shortwave and all.”
“And no phones?” Christie asked.
As in: how isolated are we?
“Well, the workers here like to joke that if we get a good wind off Mt. Hope you can always yell.”
Ed laughed.
What a card.
“And truth is, Mrs. Murphy, we’re kind of self-contained here. Can’t say phones would be of much use.”
Jack noticed that Kate stood there, scanning the rustic cottage, the lake, the woods—all so unfamiliar to her.
“Well, I guess I’ll let you folks settle in. Unpack.” Ed looked at his watch. “Whoa, dinner in two hours. Maybe time for a quick swim, eh?”
“Good idea, and thanks.”
Ed started out.
Jack turned to Christie, and then with a slight tilt of his head he followed Ed out, catching up a few steps behind him.
“Ed—one more thing.”
“Yes? What’s that?”
Jack looked around. From this area just outside the cabin, he had a good view of much of the camp, from the lake area to the Great Lodge and all the way to the playing fields.
Even a peek at the service road.
“Just got a question. Didn’t want the kids to hear. I mean…” Jack looked Ed right in the eyes. “Ever have any problems here?”
“Problems? You mean, like the septic backing up?”
Another joke, but Jack didn’t smile this time.
“No. With what’s outside the fences. With the Can Heads.”
Ed nodded. “Jack, something happen to you folks on the way here?”
“At a rest stop. A break-in. One Can Head. I took care of it.”
“That’s what you do back home, right? Being a cop and all?”
“Yeah. And I was hoping to get away from that. Which is why I asked.”
“You’ve seen a lot, hm?”
Jack paused before answering.
“Enough.”
“Listen, Jack, Paterville has amazing security. Since you’re a police officer, you’ve probably noticed it. And that’s only what you can see. The fence is fully electric, and the turrets see everything. We got other things all around—motion detectors at the perimeter, cameras checking the woods outside.”
“I imagine you do.”
“And yes, they’re out there. But that’s where they will stay. So, I hope you can forget that stuff that you’ve dealt with in the city. You and your family can have a real good time here, Jack.” Ed put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You just got to relax and enjoy yourself. We’ve thought of everything.”
Jack nodded.
Then, over Ed’s shoulder, halfway to the lodge, he saw Shana watching them. The camp director seemed to notice as well.
“Hey, gotta dash. See you at dinner.”
“Sure.”
Jack went back inside the cottage.
17
Tom and Sharon
Christie wriggled her toes in the sand. Not quite the beach sand of her childhood summers at the Jersey shore. Grittier, coarser.
But still, after everything—wonderful.
She looked over at Jack.
“You look like the lifeguard.”
“Hmm?”
They both sat on the sand, not caring that it would stick to their pants. It felt so good to be here.
“The way you—I don’t know—scan the waterfront. No, I got it. You’re the sheriff in
He laughed. A good sound.
“Gonna need a bigger boat.”
Christie pointed at a scattering of rowboats and canoes over by the dock to the right of the swimming area.
“That’s as big as they get here, I’m afraid.” A beat. Then, more seriously: “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
“Oh yeah. Sure.”
