Paddy Plays in Dead Mule Swamp (3 page)

“Teens are always eager to learn to
drive, and I’m sure she can be a big help to you.” My comment was
obvious, but I wanted Len to know I was interested.

“As for academics, Star is a hard
worker and she gets Bs all the time. Sunny is a wonder! Her report
cards are full of As and it seems as if she gets them with no
effort at all.” He hung his head. “I’m the stupid one of the
family.”

“I hardly think that’s true,” I said,
and I meant it. “You don’t talk like someone who isn’t intelligent.
Do you know any reasons why reading has been difficult for
you?”

Len seemed glad to change the subject,
even if this topic was only slightly less painful. “Yes, the
letters get all mixed up when I look at them. Sometimes a t looks
like an f, or a b like a d, and then I get nervous, and they all
just swim around like alphabet soup. They call it dyslexia now, but
when I was a boy they just called it retarded.”

“There are lots of ways to help
overcome that,” I said.

“Star works so hard at school. I want
to show her that I’m willing to study hard too, that good effort
can really pay off.”

“That’s truly admirable,” I said, but
Len didn’t respond. After a few seconds I added, “We don’t want to
intrude on your life where you don’t want us, but are there other
ways that Family Friends could help you, in addition to the
tutoring?”

“I’d like it a whole lot if there was
a woman who would make friends with Star and Sunny. They need
someone with a softer touch than an old man, someone who
understands girls. At least better than I do. They’ve got no one to
talk to about hair and clothes and female stuff, except for each
other. They are good children, but I think they need some female
guidance.”

Chapter 5

Barking and shouting from the top of
the hill intruded on our conversation. We watched Star throw a
stick, and Sunny and Paddy both ran full tilt down the slope in our
direction. As they came nearer, my heart sank at what I saw. Paddy
was dragging a sodden leash, dripping water and flinging brown
globs with every shake of his body, and the girls were well dotted
with water spots and mud. Sunny was wet to the knees, her socks
sagging over the tops of her sneakers. She was grinning from ear to
ear, and so was Paddy. Star was trying to maintain some dignity as
the mature one of the group, but her eyes were bright and she broke
into a real smile as they came nearer.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I began, as I
stood up. “This dog can’t seem to stay out of trouble for ten
minutes.”

Len laughed, a deep laugh that shook
his round hips. “Don’t you worry about a little mud. Our trailer
isn’t one of those fancy starter castles like over in Emily City. I
haven’t seen those girls so happy for quite a while. You’re a real
hit here, today.”

Sunny ran up to me. I thought she was
going to hug me, but Star grabbed her arm, stopping her abruptly.
“Don’t touch her,” Star said in a sharp tone. “You’re filthy, and
she’s wearing good clothes.”

Of course, Star had no such luck
controlling Paddy, who was trying to rub against my legs while I
circled around him in an effort to stay clean.

“Go get one of those old blankets from
the back closet,” Len said, and Star immediately headed for the
house.

“Ana!” said Sunny, quickly glancing at
her grandpa, “I mean Ms. Raven; Paddy is the best dog ever. I wish
I could play with him again.”

“You may call me Ana if it’s all right
with your grandfather. And I’m sure we could work it out for you to
play another time.”

“How about ‘Miss Ana?’” said Len,
turning toward me. “I like the girls to show a little more respect
for grownups.”

“Miss Ana! Could we?” Sunny caught on
quickly.

Before I could answer, Star appeared
with a well-worn, but clean, synthetic blanket. She unfolded it,
wrapped Paddy expertly from ears to tail and began to rub him down.
The dog stood still for her and wagged his tail beneath the
blanket, making the Sponge Bob print dance at a furious
pace.

“Please,” begged Sunny.

“Yes, we can do that,” I said to
Sunny. To Star, I added, “Thank you. It looks like you’ve done that
before.”

“Our Gracie liked to play in the
creek, too,” Star said. “It’s easy enough to wrap him up and hold
in the mud.” She averted her eyes, and I thought maybe she was
trying not to cry.

“Take the blanket with you for now.
You can keep your car cleaner that way,” said Len.

“I guess I’d better do that. You girls
are teaching me a lot about how to take care of a dog. How would
you like to come to my house and bake cookies one day
soon?”

“That’d be fun,” Star said quickly,
looking me full in the face for the first time since I’d driven
into the yard.

“Hooray!” chimed in her younger
sister.

“Is Saturday morning all right?” I
asked Len.

He looked at Star and Sunny, “Do you
have any other plans?”

They shook their heads. We agreed that
I’d pick them up at ten o’clock Saturday, and I bundled Paddy, with
the blanket, into the Jeep. Driving out of the dusty driveway, I
could see both girls in the rear-view mirror, watching the Jeep and
waving. As I turned onto the road, Sunny blew a kiss in my
direction.

What had I accomplished? I found out
that Len hoped the girls would find a mentor, and he was hoping to
be a better example himself. I discovered that because of this
exuberant puppy, the mentor might turn out to be me. And I learned
that sometimes people who have the least are the most generous.
Instead of me leaving anything with the Leonards, I was taking away
a blanket and a kiss.

Chapter 6

It was too early to go home. The
construction crew would still be working on the house, so I decided
to drive into Emily City and do some shopping. They had a large pet
store and I thought there were a couple of places that sold fabric.
To get there, I needed to turn right around, go back past the
Leonard place and on into the small city. I felt a bit foolish
doing this. Would Len think I was returning to spy on them if he
saw me go by? Well, I’d just have to take my chances. I turned
around in the next driveway and headed east on Sheep Ranch
Road.

There was no one outside the blue
trailer when I drove past and I hoped I had slipped by unnoticed. I
remembered to look for the tan trailer where Angelica and DuWayne
had lived, at the edge of Hammer Bridge Town. It was falling apart;
some windstorm must have dealt it a deadly blow. Through a hole in
the wall I caught a glimpse of a gray table and chairs. I thought
it must be hard for the girls to live so close to this reminder of
what life with their parents had been like.

As I crossed Hammer Bridge I noted
that despite how the road descended some, the bridge was high above
the actual creek.

Although it wasn’t why I had chosen to
come back this way, I recalled what Len had told me about the last
day they had seen Angelica. I drove slowly, trying to look at the
scenery through the eyes of a young mother who was applying for a
job. Beyond the creek, though, there wasn’t much to see. Open
fields, growing up to scrub oak and pine, abandoned farm houses,
and an occasional woodlot didn’t inspire me. I liked the country
life I was finding in the north, and there was plenty of beauty for
those who looked for it, but this particular stretch of road wasn’t
going to win any awards for most scenic highway.

In about two miles, ranch-style houses
began to line both sides of the road, and a sign informed me that I
was entering Waabishki. At the next corner, I passed a gas station
and then the Suds-Your-Duds Laundromat. Directly opposite was
Paula’s Place. Apparently the diner was still in business; a number
of cars were in the parking lot. I pulled in. After all, it was
nearly lunchtime.

Paddy would have to stay in the car,
but I found a spot in the shade at the back of the lot. I shook out
the blanket and spread it over the seat.

“Hey pup, you need to stay here and be
good. Can you do that for me?”

Paddy wagged his tail, his response to
most questions.

“I’ll bring you a treat.”

I locked him in, and tried not to look
back as I walked toward the building, but out of the corner of my
eye I saw him trying to force his long nose through the small
opening I’d left at the top of the window.

The restaurant had been modernized
fairly recently. Probably its location on the edge of a larger town
helped build the customer base and bring in enough income to cover
occasional renovations. There was an entryway with heavy glass
doors, and a bulletin board choked with business cards on the wall.
Two posters with cars for sale, and another asking for help to
locate a lost dog were also taped on the paneling. I wondered if
someone had put up pictures of Angelica seven years ago.

When I entered the dining
room, I was pleased to find a bright, clean room with both tables
and booths, none of which looked damaged or patched with duct tape
as they were at the Pine Tree Diner, Cherry Hill’s one restaurant.
There was plenty of light and every table held a small vase of
flowers. A sign said, “Please seat yourself,” so I chose a table
near the side window where I could keep one eye on my car. It
looked as if Paddy had lain down. At least I couldn’t see his nose
in the window opening.
Two blankets and a
brush
, I thought. I was making a mental
list of things dog owners should keep in the car.

I turned my eyes to the restaurant.
The flowers weren’t real, only silk, but the arrangements were
tasteful and cheery. I was glad to see a condiment caddy on each
table too. Since I’d had to eat out fairly often this year, I knew
how annoying it could be to try to get the attention of a server
for ketchup or extra napkins.

After Roger and I had split up, it had
taken me a couple of months of searching before I found a place I
wanted to live, because Roger had gotten our house. I’d stayed at a
motel for a while, before I moved in with Vic’s mother, Rita, my
mother’s cousin. She thought I was having a bad reaction to my
divorce, driving around the northwoods, and meeting with realtors
to view decrepit old houses. She told me in no uncertain terms that
I should get over it and find a good college town, where they
needed a Professor of Literature. Perhaps I wasn’t being sensible,
but it kept my mind off Roger and Brian. I did not want to let my
thoughts wander in that direction. Lately I had become more
accepting of my situation, but the pain was still there if I opened
the door.

And what had drawn me to Cherry Hill
and Dead Mule Swamp? I still wasn’t really sure. The house I
purchased wasn’t even particularly attractive. But its location was
like something from a half-forgotten childhood dream. The house
nestled into a curve of Dead Mule Swamp, the flood plain of the
Petite Sauble River, and it was the last building on the maintained
road. The area surrounding the yard was solid ground, probably wet
in some years, but usually just rich woods. When I had first seen
it, in March, there were snowdrops and violets pushing through the
snow, and when I signed the papers, pink spring beauty carpeted the
ground beneath the trees. I had since found an old trail that wound
into the swamp and led to the open water that I could see only from
my bedroom window. That was why I wanted the upstairs porch, to see
the water better.

“Hello, I’m Madison and I’ll be your
waitress. What would you like to drink?” the young voice broke
through my thoughts.

I smiled at the girl, barely older
than Star. “Just water for now, thanks.”

“Do you need a menu?” she asked with a
cracking of gum.

“Yes,” I answered. Something made me
add, “Is Paula here today?”

“Yup, she’s in the back. I’ll see if
she can come out. Today’s special is ham and cheese on rye with two
sides of your choice.”

The girl laid a large card encased in
plastic in front of me, turned on a heel, and with more annoying
gum-cracking, headed for another table.

In a few minutes, she was back, with a
glass of water, and order pad in hand. “Have you
decided?”

“I’ll have the special,” I said, “with
cottage cheese and a salad. Thousand Island dressing,
please.”

“American or provolone?”

“Provolone.”

“Mustard and mayo?”

“Yes.”

“That it?”

“All set for now.”

Madison took off on her rounds again,
and a woman who was about my age approached the table, carrying two
glasses of brown liquid. She wore a bibbed apron over jeans and a
t-shirt. Her short salt-and-pepper hair was brushed into a spiky do
above a red face. She had a frank and open look and a wide mouth,
pulled into a genial smile. She didn’t look at all irritated to be
called out of the kitchen, and she slid into the other side of the
booth.

“Hi I’m Paula Wentworth. I hear you
want to talk to me. Have some iced tea on the house.” She pushed
one of the glasses toward me.

“Thanks. And thanks for talking with
me. I’m Ana Raven, from Cherry Hill. I have to confess I’m a bit at
a loss for words. I asked if you were here on something of a
whim.”