Paddy Plays in Dead Mule Swamp (5 page)

“Want to play a game?” I asked Paddy.
He didn’t say no. “Let’s just take the first road west after the
river and see where it takes us.”

That corner was marked Turtle Dam
Road. I was pretty sure I knew where that road led because Turtle
Lake is the largest lake in the state forest, and is hard to miss
when you even glance at the map. The road was paved and we followed
it all the way to where it ended at an expanded turnaround beside
the dam, with parking. Several official-looking buildings dotted
the neat lawns, and I noted a number of trucks and cars in the
parking lot. I saw signs indicating where a foot trail began, and
although I wasn’t dressed for outdoor activities, I parked, and
Paddy began to whine and wiggle.

“Yes, we’ll take a short walk,” I
agreed as I opened the car door.

The dog tugged on his leash and headed
toward some people who were clustered near the edge of the parking
area. When we reached that spot, I saw it was an overlook above the
water. Turtle Lake, with two large islands and several small ones,
spread to the northeast. Behind the dam, alongside the lake, was a
large grassy lawn with picnic tables, grills, pavilions, a swimming
beach and restrooms. A paved trail wound through the area, and I
could see camping trailers and tents beyond that. Apparently I’d
stumbled onto the main recreation facility.

“This will be a great place to bring
Star and Sunny,” I told Paddy.

Just then two kayaks, one red and the
other a bright yellow, came into view around the corner of an
island.

“What fun!” I said. A man next to me
turned and looked around to see whom I was addressing. He must have
decided he was the one.

“You can rent canoes and kayaks from
the north side of the lake,” he said. “It would be a lot more
convenient if the rentals were here by the camping and picnic
areas, but that’s the state for you. People like to canoe to the
islands.”

“Thanks for the information,” I
answered. “I know some girls who might really enjoy learning to
paddle.”

“Get ‘em while they’re young,” he
added, and walked away.

We stood there a while longer. I
watched the kayakers, and Paddy seemed content for a few minutes.
When he began to whine I walked him across the dam and found a
kiosk with a map showing a large network of foot trails in the
forest.

“Not today, Paddy,” I said. “You’ve
always got your hiking shoes on, but I sure don’t. Let’s see if we
can find our way home.”

Since the dam road was a dead end, I
drove back east until I found a road that went to the south. There
was no sign on the corner, but the dirt road looked graded and
smooth. In a mile I found another unmarked road going west and took
that. It ran straight for a mile and turned back to the north.
There was no other choice, but it wasn’t signed “No Outlet” so I
took the corner. It ended abruptly at the river. To my left a track
marked “Seasonal - Road Not Plowed in Winter” wound its way along
the riverbank. It was smooth dirt, but not as wide as the road I
was on. I pulled out the map.

Sure enough, the seasonal road was
labeled East South River Road, the same as the road I lived on. But
I was pretty certain it didn’t connect with my piece. According to
the map, however, it did go through to Mulberry Hill Road. That
sounded interesting, so I nosed the Jeep past the warning sign and
began to bump my way along beside the river. Except for a few large
potholes the road wasn’t bad at all. Driving slowly was desirable
anyway because every so often there was a break in the trees, and
the river could be seen shining in the afternoon sun. A dark blue
kingfisher swooped low as we passed one of those
openings.

The road became narrower and narrower.
Soon, branches were occasionally brushing the sides of my vehicle.
Paddy seemed to be enjoying the drive, if I could judge by his
eagerness to sniff the air and poke his nose out of the
window.

“We have a Jeep,” I said to him. “We
might as well keep going until we can’t get through.” The truth
was, I was enjoying this adventure as much as Paddy. I’ve always
liked knowing my local area, and I hadn’t had much time to explore
Forest County yet. I hoped Mulberry Hill would be marked because I
had forgotten to check the mileage when we turned onto South River
Road. There were two-track vehicle paths leading into the woods
every so often with no indication as to whether they were roads,
driveways, or abandoned logging tracks.

We crept along carefully, but the road
didn’t get any worse. Finally, we passed an abandoned house on our
left. The white paint was mostly gone, the front door was open, and
one section of roof on an attached shed was collapsing. The lawn
was grown up to weeds and small shrubs. In another tenth of a mile
we reached a small turnaround at the river, separated from the
water by a guardrail.

“I think we missed our turn,” I said.
“But let’s check this out.” I grabbed the map and walked with Paddy
to the river’s edge. I slipped his leash over my wrist, thinking it
wouldn’t be a good plan to let him go in the river. Clearly, South
River Road used to go through. There were still two concrete bridge
abutments in the middle of the river. I was a little confused,
because I had already crossed the Petite Sauble River, back on
Kirtland Road. So, had the road wandered north again and I hadn’t
noticed, or where was I?

The map quickly revealed that there
was a small river, the Thorpe, coming in from the southwest and
flowing into the Petite Sauble. I was only about two miles from my
house, and could have driven right home if there were still a
bridge. I could see a matching dirt road with a guardrail across
the water and realized it had to be the seasonal road that
continued beyond my place.

I looked upstream on the Thorpe River,
which was wide and straight in this section. The spreading, shallow
water rippled over sandbars and around a few large rocks. Much to
my amazement there was a bridge less than a half-mile away. With a
shake of my head I looked at the map again, and saw that it was a
railroad bridge. I’d been told the trains hadn’t run for years, but
the bridge was still in place. I wondered if it was safe to walk
across. There was a bit of a path along the river, but I suspected
it had been made by fishermen rather than hikers.

“I think there’s a nice walk in your
future,” I told Paddy. “But let’s go home now.”

This time I remembered to watch the
mileage and easily found Mulberry Hill Road, which did, indeed, go
up a steep hill. There were even two switchbacks before I reached
the top, where I turned west on Shagbark. After exploring such an
assortment of routes, I’d had enough adventuring for one day, and
followed the map closely, taking good dirt roads till I reached my
house.

The construction crew was gone for the
day. Not only were the trusses in place, but they were topped with
a plywood roof covered with tarpaper, and a few rows of shingles
stairstepped across the black underlayment. It really looked like a
new house.

Chapter 9

The next day was Friday, and I wanted
to get things cleaned up before Star and Sunny came on Saturday to
bake cookies. The construction crew was also eager to eliminate the
piles of building supplies in my yard, since rain was predicted for
Sunday. As a result, they worked like maniacs that day, bringing in
extra help to finish the shingles on the new roof. The upper floor
was sheathed in plywood, and window sashes were fitted to the
framing. By the time they left just before dark, the yard was
nearly cleared and my new upper floor was somewhat
weatherproof.

I hauled the stepladder outside and
stretched the cable I’d purchased at the pet store between two
trees. I clipped the long lead to it so Paddy could have more
freedom outside when I wasn’t with him.

My plan was to pick up the girls the
next day and take them first to the grocery store. That would allow
me to observe them around other people. Although Adele served as
the coordinator for the Family Friends program, her primary
occupation was proprietor of Volger’s Grocery Store, so I called
her to see if she would be working Saturday morning. When I told
her I’d be shopping with Star and Sunny, she said she’d make it a
priority to be in the store. Although she’d seen the girls around,
she hadn’t actually met them.

Saturday morning, I shut Paddy in his
kennel crate. Even though I’d strung the cable run, I hadn’t tested
its security to leave him for several hours. With a promise of
friends to play with soon, I admonished Paddy to be good and headed
for Hammer Bridge Town. Star and Sunny were waiting outside at the
patio table with Len. Sunny was playing checkers with him while
Star fiddled with Sunny’s hair. This was the second time I’d seen
the girls together, and I realized that Star didn’t seem to show
any of the typical teenage contempt for younger siblings or
authority figures.

When they saw me coming up the
driveway, they waved with both arms and ran to meet me. Short
shorts and t-shirts seemed to be their usual attire, as that’s what
they both wore again today.

“Where’s Paddy?” asked Sunny with a
wail.

“He’s home saving up his energy for
you,” I teased.

“Can I ride in front then?”

“If you get the front seat now, I get
it on the way home,” Star protested, putting her hands on her
skinny hips and sticking out her tongue in mock
argument.

I glanced at their grandfather, and he
seemed to be enjoying the girls’ bantering.

“Good Morning, Len,” I said. “What
time would you like me to bring them home? Is it OK if they eat
lunch with me?”

“Any time this afternoon is fine. We
don’t have any other plans.”

“We packed up some jeans so we can
play with Paddy after we bake,” Star added, grabbing an overstuffed
plastic bag off the table. In seconds the girls were in the car
with seat belts buckled and ready to go.

“We’ll have a great time.” I turned to
Len. “We’re also going to the store. Is there anything you
need?”

“No, but thanks for asking,” he said.
I wondered if he was just being polite.

Once in the car, Sunny began chatting.
She was clearly the more outgoing of the two. As we drove back
along Sheep Ranch Road, she explained in a rapid stream of words
that she was going into sixth grade in the fall, that she liked
math and science best, and hoped Trevor Miller would be in most of
her classes.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“He likes to solve math puzzles with
me,” she said with a toss of her head and no apparent coyness that
might indicate she had a crush on Trevor.

When there was a slight break, I
glanced back and asked Star what grade she was in.

“I’ll be a sophomore,” she said. “I
turn sixteen in August.”

“She likes to read and read and
sometimes write poems,” Sunny chimed in.

I wondered how much Star liked having
her little sister speak for her. I tried to catch Star’s eye, but
couldn’t do it while driving.

“I thought we’d go into town and get
some things for lunch,” I said.

“Carrots!” said Sunny.

“Strawberries!” added Star at the same
time.

“Carrots and strawberries it is then,”
I said with a laugh.

We parked in the small lot beside
Volger’s Grocery in Cherry Hill, walked around front and opened the
creaking screen door which was shaded by a large maple
tree.

“We don’t come here much,” said Star.
“It’s closer for us to go to Waabishki to shop. We can even walk
there if we have to.” I thought of her mother walking to town the
last time she was seen but shook off the thoughts of that sad
day.

“I’d like you to meet Mrs. Volger,” I
said, seeing Adele coming out of her office. “She owns this
store.”

Adele’s short gray curls were just
loose enough to bounce a bit when she walked, and although she was
no longer slim, her appearance was motherly rather than stout. She
wore a green apron printed with the store name over black slacks
and a polo shirt. Adele likes to know what is happening with
everyone, and I was sure she’d been keeping an eye out for
us.

“A lady owns the grocery?” Sunny
asked. She sounded awed.

“Don’t be rude,” hissed
Star.

After introductions were made, Adele
gave each girl a pack of gum and invited them to Youth Group at the
church. “We just have games and snacks, and a short devotional,”
she explained. “It’s Sunday evenings at six.”

“We don’t have any way to get there,”
Star said. “I don’t even get my learner’s permit until this fall,
and Grandpa can only drive when it’s really important. His back
hurts too much when he tries to sit up straight.”

“We’ll try to work something out if
you’d like to come,” Adele offered.

Sunny looked eager but waited to see
what Star had to say. “We’ll ask Grandpa,” the teenager said.
Apparently neither girl was confident of making commitments without
permission.

As we shopped, I learned that the
girls loved fresh fruits and vegetables. Even though they were
poor, their diet of choice wasn’t loaded with carbohydrates and
sugar. They told me that when their grandmother was alive she had
shopped often and fixed healthy meals. They both said they missed
that kind of food, as well as cooking with their grandma. We loaded
up a cart with produce for a big salad, including strawberries and
some other fruits. They agreed they wanted to make chocolate chip
cookies. I knew I had the basic ingredients, but we added a large
bag of chocolate morsels to the basket.