Chapter 9

A rickety post held a cardboard sign reading SeReNiTy CaMpGrOUnd written in red and blue magic markers. Stacy and Seeker stood in front of the sign by the road, the dog panting, Stacy sweating from the two mile trek.

Underneath the sign, the words that Stacy saw back in town were added: Pets welcome.

“That’s you,” Stacy said to Seeker. “C’mon, boy.”

About a mile and a half back, Seeker had begun to walk by Stacy’s side, even though he wasn’t leashed. At first it was amusing but then Stacy found it a bit disconcerting. His old dog Scout used to wander around when unleashed, sniffing things and sticking his nose under fences and such. Seeker appeared to be Stacy’s sidekick, his head held high as they approached their destination and even now as they walked up to the camp office in a small log cabin, the dog kept an even pace.

When Stacy opened the door, he said to the dog “Stay.”

A fiftyish woman inside with brown hair wearing a yellow Camp Serenity T shirt and jeans yelled out “It’s okay. You can bring the dog inside.”

Stacy opened the door and Seeker walked over to the desk. The woman smiled and patted him on the head. “Nice dog. How old is he?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t had him long.”

“Adopted? That’s nice. My husband works with an animal rescue group. This one looks pretty healthy. You must take good care of him.”

“Yeah,” Stacy said uncertainly. This was becoming a longer conversation than he’d had in a week and he found himself feeling uneasy, even though the woman and the camp office couldn’t be cheerier. On the walls hung photos of happy campers, smiling as they sat around campfires, fished in the lake or worked on arts and crafts. Underneath the photos were art drawings by kid campers in yellow, oranges and reds, bright colors that screamed I am having a good time at him in a way that made him uneasy. It didn’t seem quite serene after all. False advertising.

“How can I help you-?” she asked, waiting for him to fill in a name.

“Mack. Stacy Mack,” he said, putting his hand out.

She took his paralyzed hand gently, glanced at it, then released it without the rough shake that hurt. But her gesture wasn’t one of rejection or revulsion – just a recognition that his hand needed special care. “I’m Audrey,” she replied. “Collins is my last name and my husband is Tom – Tom Collins. That’s really his name. Kind of unusual but we can’t help what we’re named, can we?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, watching as Seeker yawned and laid down on the woven orange carpet in front of the desk.

“Military?”

“Marines.”

“Tom was Navy, way back when. You were in the war?”

Stacy nodded, then looked down.

“Well, glad you’re back home. So how can I help?”

“I’d like to camp here.”

“Great.” She peered out the window. “Where’s your RV? Or do you have a popup?”

“Neither. I don’t even have a car.”

“Did you want to stay in a cabin?”

“I thought I could just get a tent,” Stacy said. “Do you rent those?”

“I got a few tents that would suit you and your dog just fine, but this time of year I can do you a real good deal on a cabin and you’ll be more comfortable.” She quoted him a figure that was less than half Turqoise Towers. “Would that be okay?”

He nodded. She grabbed a key, saying “The Lark. We stayed in it when we were just getting this place started up so it’s totally furnished and very comfortable for a traveler. Or maybe you’ll decide to stay?” Audrey asked as she led them out of the office.

He didn’t answer her since he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that when he saw the camp sign he had to come here, the same way he knew he had to go to the Turquoise Towers, except this time he just wasn’t sure for how long and wasn’t willing to make a guess. They went down a dirt trail through a dense area of trees and up a slight hill. Immediately a small lake came into view with half a dozen log cabins arranged around it.

“Nice, huh?” she asked. “Much better than where the RV’s and pop up’s go, actually. They’re over there –“ she pointed to the left. “Now when we have our group get togethers, everyone joins in no matter where they stay, but mind you don’t let anyone come over if you don’t want to since some of those people try to sneak into the cabins without paying the rates, so much more comfortable. Up to you, but you’re the one paying more,” she said, as she walked up the porch of the nearest, largest cabin and turned the key. “Three of these are empty, including the ones next to you, so if I’m not around, go on over to Mr. Carson across the lake. He’ll help you out.” She pointed at another large cabin directly opposite.

Seeker marched into the cabin as if he’d lived there forever and quickly picked a spot to continue his nap in front of the couch, staying on t he floor. Audrey showed Stacy around- two bedrooms with two single beds and country oak furniture; a country themed kitchen with lots of roosters, a table for four and an old stove that looked like his grandmother’s ; a fenced in dog run out the back door with a hose attachment to bathe Seeker – a hint that Stacy didn’t miss; a bathroom with an antiquated white tub; and back to the living room with a faux leather vinyl couch, a small TV and a bookshelf full of paperbacks. She opened every closet and cabinet as they went along, pulling out linens and towels that she tossed expertly onto the beds and counters as she showed him the place.

When they were done, she went into the kitchen by herself and Stacy soon smelled chicken soup. When he went out there, she was stirring some on the stove. “This will get you started but of course you’ll need to get your own groceries. Being you don’t have a car, if you give me a list, I’ll have Tom pick some things up for you in the next couple of days”

Stacy nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think to bring groceries.”

“Some campgrounds sell groceries but we’re too small for that, so if campers need us to, we’ll shop for them.” Audrey pulled a bowl from the cabinet, poured soup in it and set it on the table for him. Then she tossed a small package of saltines on the table. “Not much food for a young guy like you.”

He indicated his backpack. “I’ve got some snack bars.”

“Well. Maybe Tom can shop by tonight. Just drop off a list when you’re done eating and we can settle up with your rent. You set here?”

He nodded and Audrey, still smiling, left the cabin, dusting the living room as she went.

Seeker plodded into the room and sat watching as he ate. Stacy left some soup in the bowl and put it on the floor and watched as Seeker lapped it up.

The little boy was drinking from a bowl, his tongue lapping the liquid like a dog. Stacy knelt down, his gear settling heavily as he did, to show the boy how to drink normally, but the child snatched it away fiercely and continued to lap.

He was about five years old, with huge dark eyes set in a face so gaunt that it was almost skeletal.

“That one doesn’t talk at all,” said the woman leading him through the orphanage. “He saw too much.” She called his name and repeated the correct drinking procedure to him, but he ignored her and flapped his arms a few times, turning away from them.

She shrugged. “I try, but there are so many of them and only one of me. These children, they are so damaged. No one wants them.”

Stacy heard a noise as he followed her down the hall, and threw a door open to see where it was coming from.

“No, no!” she protested.

Behind the door was a concrete floor. On it lay at least half a dozen disabled children, naked, covered with feces. Flies swarmed around them in the heat.

As Stacy approached, he saw one boy lift his head, then drop it, his eyes rolling back in his head. He turned to the woman, but she was gone.

Instead, the little boy from outside was sitting there. He’d followed them and was holding his arms up to Stacy to be lifted up. Then he crawled toward him. Stacy picked the boy up in his arms and held him tightly, staring in horror at the bodies of the other children at his feet.

Copyright 2008 Ruth Harrigan