9

The same morning Sam Gardner was set upon by Dale and the superintendent, Miriam and Ellis Hodge were in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, strolling from one souvenir shop to another.

“I wouldn’t give you a plug nickel for this junk,” Ellis grumbled. “I can’t believe we drove four hundred miles to see this.”

Miriam didn’t point out that the vacation had been his idea.

“Let’s drive over into North Carolina,” Miriam suggested. “We could go to Asheville and see the Biltmore Estate.”

“Better not. I think something’s wrong with the truck. We probably ought to head home.”

It had been like this since the second morning of their trip, when they’d had a flat tire.

“It’s an omen,” he’d said. “I think we should go back. I think the house is on fire.”

They’d phoned his brother Ralph, who’d told them their house was fine, but that Sam was in trouble for marrying two lesbians.

“He did what?” Ellis had asked.

“Married two women at the Unitarian church. Least that’s what Asa Peacock told me. Dale and Fern are all worked up about it and trying to get him fired.”

“Well, that’s nothing new,” Ellis had said. “They’ve been trying to get him fired ever since we hired him. Anything else going on?”

“Nope, that’s about it.”

“You sure our house isn’t burning?” Ellis had asked hopefully, desperate to return home.

“I’m looking out the window at it right now. Everything’s fine.”

They had arrived in Gatlinburg and checked into a honeymoon hotel, sleeping in a heart-shaped bed that sagged in the middle. They slept on top of the blankets with their clothes on, staring at themselves in the mirror above the bed, somewhat embarrassed, praying they wouldn’t run into someone they knew.

Gatlinburg was a disappointment, a haphazard pile of shops selling souvenirs made in China. More than once, they were squeezed off the sidewalk to let groups of hefty people pass.

“I’ve never seen so many obese people gathered in one place in my entire life,” Ellis grumbled. “It’s like a convention of fat people.”

“Be nice,” Miriam said.

“And to think they cut down trees to make this place.”

Ellis had become more opinionated as he had aged, a development Miriam found most distressing. She worried he was losing his mind. On several occasions she had caught him in the barn listening to fanatics on the radio rant about the government. It was depressing the cows, causing their milk output to drop, so she had taken her hedge clippers and cut the radio’s electrical cord.

They were at the hotel when Miriam’s cell phone rang. It was Fern Hampton, who made small talk about the weather, then asked when they might be back.

“Probably late Sunday,” Miriam said. “Why? Is there a problem?”

“Oh, no, everything’s fine. Just wanted to make sure you were all right. You and Ellis enjoy yourselves and don’t worry about a thing. Good-bye for now.”

“That woman is up to no good,” Miriam said. “She’s never cared whether we were all right. She’s up to something. Mark my words.”

“Maybe we should go home,” Ellis said.

“Maybe we should,” Miriam agreed.

But they didn’t go immediately. Instead, they drove into the park, which was beautiful, and shared a picnic beside a stream, and watched trout swimming in a deep pool underneath a log, then stretched out for a nap on the mossy bank. For one pleasant afternoon, Ellis was grateful for their vacation and understood why others might occasionally wish to leave home for lovely moments such as these.