Mist, Page 2

Chapter Two

  Saturday came and I woke to a slight measure of sunlight trying to force its way around the dark curtains in my front window. A small ray of that bright light found its way through a crack in the material. It was warm and cheery, especially after the night I had. I laid in the thin beam of warm light for several minutes before giving in to the desire to get up and start another day. I groaned and stretched and admitted to myself that digging ditches was a far cry from my cushy gig at the university. I laughed as I asked myself how I was succeeding when it felt like I was going backward. The boss was not supposed to work this hard.

  In the light of the new day I had to check my trash to see if I had actually been given a dirty sock the night before. It seemed more like a bad dream than anything else. Looking into the bottom of my newly emptied can liner, I saw the muddy lump resting where I had thrown it last evening. Even in the warm light of the day I felt a chill as I remembered how sure I was that someone had been there last night.

  Someone had really placed a dirty sock on my deck. They had stole their way quietly in the dark and left this unusual calling card for me to find. I could not fathom the meaning behind this bizarre behavior. Nothing in my collection of life experiences had prepared me to understand this. Why? was the question that kept coming to my mind. More than the who was the need to know why. What could a dirty sock mean? And what importance could it hold as a gift to me? I was getting nowhere questioning myself about an aberrant behavior that I was not familiar with. My one semester in Psychology 101 qualified me to know a few terms of the mental processes, nothing more.

  I had forgotten to set the coffee maker up last night so I had to make coffee. I got it ready to brew and then got dressed. By the time I poured the first cup, I was feeling better about everything. Okay! So I had a crazy, homeless guy running around my property. It could be worse. I half expected the guy to be outside when I stepped out onto my deck and I wouldn't have minded it. Knowing is better than guessing and wondering.

  I had situated the camper so that the sun would always be on my deck during the day, rising at the front of the camper and setting at the back. I had an awning attached to the back part of the camper that covered twenty feet of the thirty five foot deck, leaving the rest of the deck in full sun all day long. The only thing on the deck was a gas grill and four chairs that me and the guys used for lunch each day. One of my rules. Work in the cold, eat hot meals for lunch. The sun was warm on my face. I pulled a chair into the sun and sat down with my coffee cup to enjoy the morning and a brief reprieve from the forced activity I had endured of late.

  It felt good to rest this morning. There had been too few of these moments since I had started this project. I knew that more of them awaited me once the work was finished but still I savored each chance I got to stop and reflect on how everything was going.

  I was still getting used to the idea that all this was mine. I stole a glance up the road toward the rise where I had seen the man last night. There was nothing there now. Bright sunshine bathed the road and pushed into the trees on either side. Nothing to suggest that anyone had been there last night or anything to explain the figure I saw. I watched the dust swirling in a soft breeze on a beam of sunlight cutting through a thick set of branches and it reminded me of how the figure had disintegrated from my view. A homeless man with a mental illness might explain the dirty sock. But what was going to explain the disintegrating guy? I still could not answer that.

  I finished my coffee and got another cup. And then a third. For an entire hour I sat and thought about my visitor as I soaked up the warmth of the sun and the caffeine of my coffee. I came to no conclusions and I searched for none. I was content that it was a one time thing and did not expect a repeat. If there was a repeat, I told myself, then I would have to take some kind of action. After all, I could not have a homeless guy disrupting my new business. I found myself wondering how far from town the police came out. Maybe I would have to call the Sheriff's department. I had not met any of them yet.

  I got my fourth cup of coffee and decided to take a walk. It was inevitable. I had to be sure. My mind refused to let go of the events of the night before. Maybe the guy was sleeping in. If he was we could talk about it and then he could move on. I was not a disagreeable kind of person. I had a heart. I understood the problems of a society that did not take care of those who were slightly behind the curve on creating success. At least I felt reasonably sure that I understood enough to be compassionate even as I asked the guy to move along and let me get on with my own ventures.

  I found the campers empty and wondered if the guy had gotten up early and moved on down the road. I could sense no warmth from the heater in either camper and guessed that he had either not used the heat or had not slept in the campers. Maybe he felt confined by society's restrictive presence and he was protesting physical shelters. I let my mind wander as I looked around for any sign that he was there. Not only was he a silent intruder but he was a neat one, too. I did not find a single footprint except the boot tracks from me and my three workers.

  Not that I was some kind of Indian scout or anything but unless this guy was some kind of Indian himself, he should have at least left a footprint somewhere on all the soft ground where I had seen him or imagined he might have gone. I found nothing. Only my own footprints from the night before and the localized boot tracks that marked yesterday's work. There was absolutely no sign that anyone but me had been here last night. I could almost make myself believe I had imagined the whole thing except for the dirty sock.

  I returned to my camper and poured the last cup from my coffee maker. I debated making another pot but decided against it. If I made it then I would sit and drink it. A reasonable assumption but not what I really wanted to accomplish at the moment. If I had a homeless man wandering my property I needed to know. Maybe there was more than one. I had seen more than one area where the homeless people had created their own small community. I wondered if maybe something like that was nearby me. After all, the realtor said no one wanted to come out this way from town. Maybe the homeless knew that and figured this area was a good place to set up for the winter.

  I got dressed to go into town, meaning, I changed my shirt. I figured a visit to the police station would not be out of order. I also wanted to find out whether I was in the town's patrol area or the county's. It wasn't the reading I had planned to do but it wasn't actually working on the camp either.

  I had driven past the police station before so I had no trouble finding it. It was a small, white building with a sign in front of it announcing the fact that this was the police station. Strictly perfunctory. No color. Just a white, plastic sign with small black letters that was lighted at night. A stark, but efficient looking place. An unobtrusive police station hidden from the main thoroughfare and most of the tourist traffic. Perfect for a small town that wanted to seem inviting and open for business and fun when the season started. No oppressive police presence.

  Inside the building the atmosphere did not change. The walls were white and the counter that separated the public from the police work was a smooth, black, fake looking stone made out of plastic. Cheap was the idea that came to my mind as I looked around. Bored was the thought when the officer got up from her chair to see what I wanted. I saw and heard no other activity in the building.

  For all her bored outward appearance the officer smiled kindly as she approached the counter and her beauty was not wasted on me either. Underneath the less than flattering police uniform was a shapely, beautiful, young woman about my own age. I had been away at college for four years and looking for pretty women had become like a minor for me. Not that I ever did anything about the ones I saw. It was strictly a looking around policy on my behalf. Too many things to do before settling down. Other than a few party dates, I had not really had time for more than just looking.

  “Can I help you?” Her smile was genuine. One of those people who was always friendly.

  “Uh – yes.” I had rehearsed what
I wanted to say on my way into town but now, looking at this young and pretty female police officer in the light of day, my misgivings of the night before seemed silly. I was taken back by the situation. The fact that I was a man about to make a silly complaint of paranoia was not lost on me, either. Something inside me railed against the idea I was about to label myself as someone scared of the dark. I had to rethink my words quickly.

  She seemed amused at my hesitation. Whether she was used to it because people stared at her beauty or whether it was some cop thing that she understood a person's reticence when coming into a police station, I had no idea. But her smile was more of an irritation than a comfort at the moment. It said that she knew I was a bumbling idiot. She probably didn't think that way but it sure made me feel like I was acting that way.

  “I – uh – wanted to ask a question,” I finally managed to blurt out. My excellent change of mental direction. Kind of like an untrained driver shifting a manual transmission taking off from an intersection. A lot of grinding but not much progress and damn little smoothness.

  “Sure. I'll answer it if I can.” She seemed totally unperturbed by my stumbling opening. I wasn't sure if I liked her for overlooking my ineptitude or if I was mad at being made a fool of.

  “Well,” I stalled. I was not as sure that I wanted to report my adventure of last night to this young woman as I was when I came in. I took another look at her smile and decided to push on. “I was wondering – uh – if there was a homeless problem around here.”

  Her smile never wavered.

  “Not as far as we are aware.” She spoke of herself and the entire police department.

  I was trying to think how to continue, my whole speech that I had thought up on the way in now totally forgotten, when she went on herself.

  “We get the occasional homeless person passing through every once once in a while but they don't hang out here. There are much warmer places for them to go.” She held that smile even as she talked. She also had the straightest teeth I had ever seen.

  Her blond hair, probably some regulation length, was still very fashionable and feminine though barely reaching her shoulders. The slight upturn on her nose gave her face a classic look of youth that would never end. The twinkle in her eye spoke of a mischievous side that came out only when she let it. She carried herself with an air of authority. Not just the badge and uniform. She was someone who was used to being in charge. A leader at heart. At five foot three, maybe four, she was a full head smaller in height than I but she seemed every bit my equal, standing there taking my complaint.

  Suddenly, I was not as interested in my homeless guy problem as I was in the woman who stood before me. She had pulled her hair behind her ears adding to the girlish image she cast. The uniform did not hide her shapely, almost athletic form nor did it cover up her femininity in any way. She made that uniform look good, as the saying goes. Probably not what the designer intended. After all, police uniforms are designed to convey a sense of authority and efficiency. But here was a woman who could not be hidden in any kind of clothing.

  She had the brightest set of blue eyes I had ever seen. Her nose gave her an impish look but that was quickly overcome by the fullness of lips that continually pushed her cheek bones higher with that smile of hers. She had that pretty, young woman look but she also had a mature confidence about her that said she could handle whatever came her way. Something in her eyes said that she understood life at its deepest sources.

  “I – uh – I,” I tried to get my mind back on my original business. “I thought maybe I had seen one out at my place last night.”

  “And you wanted us to go and make the guy move on?” She asked like it was an every day request.

  “Uh – no. I mean – well – maybe. I mean I'm not sure if I really saw a homeless guy or not but someone was there and prowling around my place.”

  “Trespassing is still illegal whether it was a homeless person or not.” She offered me a chance to look legitimate.

  “I mean I'm pretty sure it was someone but I am just not sure who or why they would be wandering around my place.”

  She reached under her counter and retrieved a piece of paper. Some kind of form.

  “What's your name, Sir?” She smiled a little sweeter each time she talked.

  “Oh – uh – I don't want to file a complaint or anything. I just wanted to know if I should be aware of anything. Maybe wandering homeless populations or something.”

  She pushed the paper aside and stared at me blankly. Now I felt stupid again. She was ready for action and I was just hunting information.

  “As far as we know there is no homeless population in this area.” She repeated the corporate stance of the community. Tourist areas do not allow homeless populations to take up residence. Homeless people scare the tourists away. No tourists, no business. No business, no community. Simple equations.

  “Okay. I guess.” I just didn't know what else to say. I was starting to wonder what I was hoping they could do. I didn't want to get anyone arrested. I guess I just wanted to not be alone out there with a half-crazed homeless guy. But I couldn't tell her that.

  “Did something happen?” she asked.

  “I thought I saw someone on my property.” I volunteered.

  “Which is where?” She smiled some more.

  “The Tall Pines Campground.” I used the name of my campground mostly because I wanted people around town to get to know it.

  “And where is that?” Her smile stayed right in place. Not an outlandish, silly smile. Just a friendly, go-ahead-and-talk-to-me smile.

  “Um – about ten minutes out of town. North, up the River road.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes narrowed slightly and her smile wavered for the briefest of moments. Something of recognition flickered behind the glow of her face for just an instant.

  “I know where you mean.” The musical tones had definitely drained out of her voice, now. Whatever memory my campground dredged up for her, it was not good.

  “I heard they were building a campground out there. Didn't know what it was called, though.” She was not acknowledging meeting the owner of the property as much as she was repeating facts she had heard.

  “Tall Pines.” I repeated.

  “And you think you saw someone on your property out there?”

  “Yes, last night.”

  “Did they damage something or destroy anything?”

  “No, I just thought I saw someone walking on my property.”

  “So you saw someone walking on your property way out of town? And they didn't break anything? They did no damage to your property? And you don't want to file a report?” She looked hopefully at me for some help understanding what I wanted.

  “That's about the size of it,” I tried to smile and seem witty. It wasn't working. I felt stupid and petty taking up the time of a police officer with my story.

  “I don't mean any disrespect,” she started. Meaning she meant all kinds of disrespect but did not want to be labeled as disrespectful.

  “What exactly is it that you want us to do about this...wandering, homeless guy problem you seem to think you have?”

  Her smile took on an evil twist at the corners of her mouth like she was holding back a laugh while watching a small child wrestle with something new. I got the feeling that my situation amused her almost as much as my inability to fully explain what I was doing there. Quite possibly, she was one of those people who enjoyed being in control while everyone around her was out of control or under her control.

  “I know it seems a bit – uh – maybe confusing.” I tried to explain.

  “A bit.” She repeated my words.

  “I'm – uh – just trying to ascertain whether or not I need to be on the lookout for homeless people wandering through my place.” I tried to justify my ride into town.

  “Like I said, Sir. We do not know of any homeless problem in our area. But if you start to have one, let us know and we'll do what we can to protect your property.�€
 I had the sense she was getting bored with my story, distancing herself from it. I had brought her nothing that the police could take action on.

  “Uh – very good.” I smiled my best smile back at her. She increased hers knowing that her smile was better than mine. Better than anyone's.

  “If there's ever anything we can do for you, let us know.” She was giving me her good bye smile.

  “Thanks,” I answered her. “If you're ever out my way, stop in and say, hi.” I offered.

  “Don't get out that way much.” She smiled her best good bye smile.

  “Uh – right.” I waved a tentative good bye and turned toward the door.

  “Oh,” I remembered something.

  “Is my property within the jurisdiction of the town or the county?” I felt I had finally asked a question that made my visit legitimate. Thereby I had redeemed myself and become legitimate, also.

  “The town,” she smiled. She didn't even think about it. She knew. Beauty and brains. Good thing my mom was not here right now.

  “Thanks,” I repeated.

  “Any time, Sir,” I was not so sure she meant that.

  Outside, back in the sunshine I felt like a total fool. Not only had I complained about something that meant nothing, I had made an idiot out of myself in front of a pretty girl. Wouldn't mom be proud of me, now? Maybe it was good for this man to be alone. I had always believed that some people should never reproduce. Right now, I was thinking that maybe I was one of them.

  I drove down the street to the hardware store and picked a up a few things I knew we were going to need come Monday. I also ordered some more PVC pipe for the water lines. They told me it would be delivered on Tuesday. They had two big orders going out on Monday. I loaded up my supplies and noticed it was lunch time.

  Instead of one of the fast food restaurants, I opted for one of the local diners. Although I had been in there several times over the last few months, they all turned to stare at me as I entered and took a booth near the back. I was the new guy in town and they were the locals. Because it was a tourist town they were used to treating outsiders as outsiders. They just weren't used to having one around all winter. I wondered how long I was going to have to live here before I was not an outsider any longer, but I was afraid I already knew the answer to that as they watched me invade their lunch time haven once again.

  The waitress had asked my name the first time I had come in and she remembered it ever since. She also remembered that I was the guy building the campground way out of town. Funny how ten minutes away was way out of town. Or maybe she was referring to how close I was to being a local.

  “Hello, John.” She smiled as she came up to the booth.

  “A hamburger all the way with fries and a coke,” I gave her my order. I liked the fries in this place. They left the skins on and let them cook until they turned golden brown with a crispy exterior.

  I watched as she took her time writing out my order on her pad. She did not use short hand. She wrote out every word and placed them exactly on each line of her pad. I didn't know whether she was just that anal or her boss was. Later when the ticket was given to me to pay, each price would be neatly added to the right column and then added up at the bottom with tax and everything.

  She was a pretty woman of sorts. Not like the police officer I had met earlier. But not so plain as to go unnoticed in a crowd either. She was tall and had an angular jaw that kept her smile from being truly heartwarming. More of a sexy taunt than charming. Her dark hair was always put up behind her head so I had no idea what she looked like outside of work. She didn't wear a ring so I assumed she wasn't married. But who knew today?

  I ate my meal, paid the check including a handsome tip, waved at the locals and got back into my truck. I was trying to be the new guy that added something to their community without being an invader. As I started the engine a man approached. He was tall and built like a football player. His face showed he was an outdoor person. Tanned and leathery, but not in an ugly way. More like a tough outdoorsman look. He was obviously headed toward me so I shut off the ignition as he extended his hand to shake through my slowly lowering window.

  “The name's Ike” he offered.

  “John,” I replied.

  “Hear you're building something out the River Road.”

  “A campground. Tall Pines.”

  “You're the fella, then. That's great. Thought you'd be older though.”

  I just smiled. It was nice to have someone talk to me who I wasn't paying. For a tourist town this was not the friendliest place on earth. I was beginning to think I had put my campground in the wrong place.

  “Well, I just wanted to welcome you to the community. Don't get many people moving in here. Just a lot of tourists and such. Hope you get settled in just fine and enjoy living here.” Ike went on.

  “I think I'll like it just fine,” I hoped as much as he did.

  “Hey, if you're a church goer, we meet down at the Baptist Commons Sunday morning at 11:00. Love to see you there. We're a good congregation. Lot of the local merchants are in our church, too.” Ike wasn't pushy. His offer felt like an honest to goodness real invite. A welcome to the community invite.

  “Well, I might just see you there,” I answered his offer. “I've been thinking about finding a church to attend since I got here. Just been so busy out at the camp and fighting with inspectors and such.”

  He smiled.

  “Know all about that. I own the campground over on the water, other side of town. Gave me a real hard time, twenty years ago. Still do.”

  “You own Sea Vision?” I asked.

  “Yep. That's my place. Got a boat ramp and restaurant and everything.”

  “I looked your place over before I moved here,” I explained.

  “Well, there's always room for more campers around here. I have a waiting list a mile long. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Your waiting list?”

  “Yep. The word is you'll be open and ready for business by April. Season starts in May.”

  I nodded my head in agreement.

  “Wondering if you would mind my steering my overflow your way? People don't like being told, no. It would give me an alternative to saying, no.”

  “Sure.” I know my face must have brightened a lot as my smile spread wide.

  “Well, I just wanted to meet you and make sure I wasn't misinformed. I've got people calling for places already. You got a number I can give them?”

  I reached across the seat and opened the small box that held my supply of business cards. It was still full. I handed a small handful to Ike and he smiled back at me. He nodded his head like I had done him a favor.

  “I really appreciate this.” I told him.

  “No problem, John. We stick together in this town. Everyone helps everyone. When the tourists show up, there's plenty of everything to go around. No need to horde anything here. I'd rather keep the tourists here than have them go to the beaches further down the coast.”

  “Well, I can't begin to thank you enough for the help, Ike.”

  “Don't think nothing of it. Glad to help you out and not have to send tourists somewhere else. It'll be nice to have another campground here to keep more of them here.”

  “I'm kind of glad to hear you say that. I wasn't so sure that the town wasn't giving me a hard time because I was competing with one of their own.”

  Ike smiled a wide smile that made his face seem even more friendlier. He reached out his hand to shake again. I grabbed it. This time he pumped it a little harder. More of a friend to friend shake than a man meeting another man in public shake.

  “Don't worry about people in this town, John. They have to get used to you and then you won't be able to get rid of them. It won't be no time you'll be wishing they'd get out of your business like the rest of us.”

  He laughed and moved off toward a large, white truck at the other end of the parking lot. Looked like he could pull houses down the road with that t
ruck. I was impressed. It made my little half ton pick up look like a toy.

  On the way home I stopped at the market and got some bologna and cheese and some more bread. I didn't feel like cooking tonight so I was going to have a sandwich. I grabbed another pack of Gatorade to drink and headed for home.

  Back in my camper, I settled in to enjoy the rest of my afternoon with my book. The temperature had risen to fifty five so I put on a sweater and sat on the deck for a while reading. The sun felt good and the peacefulness of the campground made me forget the events of last night. My talk with Ike had also lifted my spirits.

  Referrals would be welcomed. Especially until people knew I was here. It's hard to advertise with tourists. They come from everywhere. There were a few organizations that advertised in select places around the country, places where people there might be likely to come here, but there was no sure way to target the people who would come and use my campground until I had built up a client list. Building the business would take time. But Ike's referrals might just help it take a lot less time. I made a mental note to check out Ike's place a little more thoroughly so that what I was offering was up to his standards. If he sent me referrals who were used to his place, I wanted them happy about coming here. And I wasn't on the water, either. I was going to have to compensate for that.`

  I was feeling pretty good about things as I slipped into my book and let the warm, winter sun soak into my body. The progress at the camp was going the way I planned. At least one of the townies accepted me into the community. And I had been invited to church. I don't know why, but being invited seemed a lot better than just showing up and running the gauntlet of prying eyes and questioning glances. I knew how church people could be. They were always so suspicious until they got to know you. Almost like they expected the devil to sneak into the church if they didn't keep a good eye out for him. That was the way I saw most churches. A whole lot of people who were better at looking for bad things than they were at enjoying the good.

  I concentrated on my book as I let the pleasant thoughts of my new community membership drift through my head. It felt good. I felt like I belonged finally. Funny how one guy talking to me could make me feel like I belonged. But it did. I had even forgotten the fiasco at the police station.

  The afternoon went by fast and as darkness settled in, I ate my supper and turned the heater up higher to get the camper warm enough to sleep comfortably. I had turned it down during the day because I was fully dressed and in a coat or sweater during the day. No need to have it up high.

  I thought about taking the trash up and decided it could wait until tomorrow. It was only half full anyway. I read until bedtime half expecting my visitor to return and leave something else on my deck. I looked outside a couple times when I got up to stretch but I never got that sense that someone else was there like I had before. Feeling silly about needless fears, I finally drifted off to sleep a little before midnight.