Chapter 10

 

Paddy trotted up to the stoop and dropped the whitened object at my feet. Star caught up and grabbed the dog’s collar.

“Get the hose and wash him down,” I said, taking hold of Paddy myself. “Sunny, that old blanket is still on the front porch.” I hadn’t washed it yet, but that wouldn’t matter since it was about to get even dirtier.

Star unwound the hose from where it hung by the kitchen door and began spraying the dog, and I was getting pretty wet myself. Water dripped everywhere; Paddy shook and made it worse, but then Sunny appeared and wrapped the dog in the old blanket. Star began to laugh.

“Come look at your big scary bone,” she said to Sunny, between chuckles.

We looked at the thing Paddy had dropped, which had also been washed by all the water flying around. It was, indeed, a long bone, but attached firmly to one end was a deer hoof.

Sunny’s bottom lip stuck out and she said with a flounce, “Well, I couldn’t tell it was just an old deer leg. There might be dead bodies in that Dead Mule Swamp. Nobody would ever find them. Nobody ever found the dead mule, did they?”

Star put her finger over the open nozzle of the hose to make a fine spray and aimed it at Sunny. The younger girl sputtered and launched herself at Star, causing the teen to sit down hard in what was now a very wet spot in the grass. She dropped the hose, which began to hop around from the water pressure and spray everything in sight. However, the day was hot enough that no one seemed to mind getting wet, and before I succeeded in catching the end of the hose we were all soaked and giggling.

“OK,” I said. “We better get cleaned up and eat some cookies. Clip Paddy on his new line over there so he can dry off.”

We stripped our wet sneakers and socks, left them outside, and then all went upstairs to change. I loaned the girls some dry t-shirts and they put on their shorts again. The shirts were too big on both of them, but they didn’t seem to care. Sunny impulsively gave me a little hug after she slipped into the Michigan Tech shirt I handed her. It hung below her shorts like a dress.

The cookies and cold milk hit the spot after our exercise, and we sat on the lower porch, which I had started calling the terrace, eating them and licking chocolate off our fingers.

“Would you like to go to Youth Group tomorrow or maybe next week?” I asked. “If your grandfather says it’s OK, I’ll be glad to pick you up and take you home.”

“I’d rather come here again,” said Sunny without any hesitation.

“Me too,” said Star. She sort of ducked her head and then took a deep breath. “I saw you have a sewing machine.”

“I do.” It was set up in my bedroom, although I had plans to make a nice sewing area in my new room.

“Grandma was teaching me to sew. We had just started a skirt and vest that wasn’t too hard. But then she died...”

“Would you like me to help you finish it?” I asked, realizing that my opportunity to do something meaningful had just been handed to me.

“I think it’s too small for me now. But maybe I could get a new pattern and material. I have a little money saved up from picking berries for the farm market.”

“I like that material,” Sunny asserted. “Do you think I could learn how too? Could I have the one that’s too small for you?”

“We can do that. How about if we go to the fabric store next Saturday?” I asked them.

Star agreed to let Sunny have her previous fabric, and we made plans to shop the following weekend. I didn’t press them about Youth Group.

It was after four o’clock when I returned home from dropping them off at their trailer. I had insisted they take most of the cookies with them, and some of the salad too. It had been a wonderful day, and I was definitely becoming fond of both girls. They were already more than just an assignment to me, but I was exhausted.

The next day, Sunday, the predicted rains came in great white sheets of water making it difficult to see the trees beyond my yard. I skipped church. The old part of the roof, over my bedroom, hadn’t been re-shingled yet, and I climbed to the attic every few hours to empty the pan I kept placed under a leak. Paddy and I huddled in the house. We worked on reinforcing the “shake” command and began on “heel” and “stay.” In between lessons I read the puppy training book and dozed. Paddy just dozed.

Monday, Robert Gorlowski called to say that he wouldn’t be working until things dried out a bit. I told him the old leak was worse than ever, and he said they’d take on that section of roof next, and start the siding on the new upstairs. I wandered around my new room, making plans for a sewing area and maybe a library corner. The area was one large room, and I intended to keep it that way. I did the laundry, including the muddy Sponge Bob blanket.

In the afternoon the sun came out, so Paddy and I took a long walk down the extension of South River Road, farther than I’d gone before.

When the road emerged from the trees of the swamp and ran along the river I began to pay closer attention. Pretty soon we reached what I now knew was the confluence of the Thorpe and the Petite Sauble Rivers. The Thorpe and the road curved around to the southwest, almost ninety degrees different from the southeast direction the road had been going. Just a little farther along, the dirt widened, and I could see where the road used to branch and cross the Thorpe. I was now on the west side of the guardrail I’d spotted from the other bank just a few days previous. The defunct railroad bridge was about a half-mile upstream to the south.

After a day inside, Paddy and I were both ready for some exercise, and we continued down the narrow dirt road toward the bridge. It appeared safe and solid with stout, black and smelly wood timbers. The ties were placed close together, so it wouldn’t even be too scary to walk across. I tugged on Paddy’s leash and although he whined, he came along. My size sevens easily bridged the gaps between the ties, but he placed his paws carefully. Near midstream, just as he was getting confident, his right front foot slipped through a gap, and Paddy stumbled, his shoulder roughly bumping the edge of the tie. He woofed and scrabbled at the splintery wood, pulling the dangling leg from the space. He looked up at me with raised eyebrows, then down at the swirling water a dozen feet below. Nevertheless, he continued across the bridge without balking. Once we reached the far bank, I could see the trail along the shore that must lead to this end of the road.

“We’ve found an interesting route,” I told Paddy. “But it would be a bit too long to walk to the recreation area. We’d be too tired to recreate!”

Paddy wasn’t too eager to re-cross the bridge, but we walked slowly, and he watched his footing. When we returned home, I checked the map. According to the scale, we had hiked about five miles, and that was plenty for both of us.