Beth looking out the windshield just didn’t know what to do next. Bob and his friends were looking for her and the kids everywhere. It was getting colder and she thought about going to her old friend Mary but the last time she tried to leave and hid out there his police buddies broke in and threatened to arrest Mary for drug and prostitution. She just couldn’t put her through something like that again. Quiet sniffles in the back made Beth lean over and tuck the tight blanket around the twins. Thinking for a moment she took off her coat and laid that on top of them too. Looking at their angelic features and she swore to herself she would somehow find a safe place to raise them. Shivering she leaned back in the seat to try to get some sleep and suddenly saw an envelope on the dash. Looking fearfully outside the windows for someone, she was sure that wasn’t there a moment ago. After a few hesitant minutes she picked up the somewhat heavy envelope and checked for any writing or labels on it. Not seeing anything she opened it and with the help of the dim streetlight shining in she checked the contents. Staring with her mouth open in shock she saw a bundle of cash and train tickets. A month later on the other side of the country Beth came home from her job to find an envelope sitting on her door step. Scared that Bob might have found her here Beth worriedly open it to find a news article inside from her home town paper. The article talked about the FBI’s investigation into the town’s police force. The article was about how several local police officers got caught in a sting operation after a mistyped address had the FBI setup a sting operation in the wrong place at the right time. Instead of a drug dealer and gang they found the local police running a protection racket. The resulting investigations lead to the arrest of Bob, his father the police chief, and several other officers.
* * * * *
I decided to start my search for a car the next morning by checking auctions. One of my teachers last year in school would brag about the deal he got buying one from the GSA auto auction. One thing he said that I really liked was that government cars all had the Flex Fuel option. Using a blend of gasoline and ethanol was better for the environment unfortunately most gas stations didn’t carry it so having the option to use either when fueling seemed the best of both words to me. The next auction was in 10 days in the state capitol which would be a little tight with my uncle’s deadline to get out but I could make it. In case I didn’t get a car at the auction I could buy something from one of the local used car lots.
Ten days later I was standing at the auction yard with a piece of cardboard with my number on it. It was a two hour bus trip to get to the city and then a ride share from the station to the lot. There were a lot of dealers around checking out the cars. Most were using an app on their phones to scan the VINs. Looking over someone’s shoulder it looked like the app brought up the history of the car and what those make and model recently sold for. Nice app it looked like, I had to do it the hard way printing out the auction listing yesterday then looking up each car online. I did have one advantage over the dealers thou, I didn’t care about year, make, model or color. My only requirement was something dependable that wouldn’t stand out up in the hills.
There were over 200 cars in the auction this month and the auction was only scheduled to last hour. I had no idea how they would get through them all until it started. All four lanes had cars going through once a minute. The auctioneers were yelling out bid amounts with people yelling back and waving their numbers. Drivers would pull the cars up wait 30 seconds in front of the auctioneer then drive out the other side. Watching them run around to get another car to drive was so distracting I missed what the first dozen cars sold for. Not that I could understand the auctioneers shouting but the monitors above each lane showed the current bidding and flash the winner for a few seconds. Looking at my marked up list as the cars went by it looked like they were pretty much going for their wholesale value. I was starting to get comfortable with the bidding when the first car I was interested in pulled up. It was a 10 year old GMC Jimmy. The car was beat up but only had 40,000 miles on it. Even more important according to the car sites I checked it had a decent dependability rating but a low resale value. As I thought about bidding my comfort with the process went away. I decided to just go with it and raise my number. Every time the auctioneer looked at me I shook my head yes. Seeing a dealer looking at me from the side I could tell he thought I was crazy. A few seconds later the auctioneer stopped his chant and when I looked at the monitor my number was listed as the winner. It looked like I got it for $100 over wholesale which sounded ok to me. The dirty look from the dealer next to me showed he didn’t like how I did it.
Driving my first car home felt great. I even stopped at a fast food restaurant just so I could go through a drive through for the first time. The only issue I ran into was at the gas station. The pump was on the wrong side from the gas cap and the hose wouldn’t stretch over the car. I felt so happy about the car I didn’t feel embarrassed at the other customer’s smiles. Just grinned and moved my car to the other side. Pulling into my uncle’s mansion I didn’t wait and started taking boxes down to put in the back. I didn’t have much and my uncle had already given me the key to the storage lot my parents stuff was at. He even gave me the bill for the net month’s rental of the unit. I didn’t want to go through their stuff so for now I just planned to keep paying the rent on it. Someday I would have to go through it but not now. With a last look around I got in and headed out. I thought about stopping at the house to say goodbye to my uncle but he would probably be happier with the note I left and I had miles to go before I sleep.
Initially I thought finding a place to live would be easy. I needed someplace with privacy and no curious neighbors around who might ask questions about me or any strange things they see or hear. For a lark I decided to check online for private islands and found a nice one off the shore of North Carolina only 20 acres for 1.3 million. The thought of a private island I could take care of and keep eco friendly was a nice fantasy but time to get real though, I changed my search to look for rental cabins. My personal preference was out in the countryside away from everyone. It would also be good if I could rent it with cash and no paperwork. That last part was the stickler. Every place I checked did a background check. Not that I couldn’t pass a background check but that would be one more paper trail if things start to heat up.
Maybe a hunting cabin would work. They aren’t considered permanent residence more something for the hunting season. Makes me think the renting might be more casual about the checking. After some looking I finally found an old listing for a hunter’s spring cabin in a desolated part of Montana. The listing had been active for over a year with only a telephone number to contact. The lack of interest was a good sign that it might fit my needs, or maybe it was just a dump that nobody would want to live in. I wasn’t picky so either way worked for me.
I decided to call the number and ask some questions to get a feel for the situation. After a half a dozen rings I started to hang up thinking it might be a mistake when the call was answered by someone with a young girl’s voice.
A bit unsure and thinking it might be a mistake I said “I’m calling about the hunting cabin listed for rent is this the right number for it”.
After a short delay the young voice excitingly said “Oh, you mean grandpa’s old shack”, her voice stumbled for a second and then she said in a rush “I mean cabin, not a shack, it’s really a nice shack, Argh! Cabin, I meant to say cabin”.
After a long pause I heard her say “hello are you still there?”
I patiently said “yes, I wanted to know about the cabin and if it was still available”.
She then rushed to say “Just a minute, I’ll get grandma”.
I could hear a loud “thunk” as if the phone had been dropped with a distant voice yelling excitingly “Grandma, somebody is actually calling about grandpa’s shack”.
After a few minutes a gravely old woman’s voice came online and tentatively said “hello”. I identified myself again and asked if the cabin was still available.
After I finished introducing myself and that I was interested she introduced herself as Mrs. Hetcher but said “Just call me grandma, like everyone else”.
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She apologizes for her granddaughter Sammy’s phone etiquette before jumping into describing the cabin to me. She started asking questions about me. It took me a few minutes of her questions to realize she was just asking to be neighborly and not really trying to pry. After asking again about the cabin she responded in a roundabout way to explain how the cabin was up the mountain in back with a great view but not much else.
I stated how I was a writer looking for a private place in the woods to work on my novel and thought a small quiet cabin would be fine for my writing. I actually felt bad lying to her since she seemed honest in telling me about the problems with the cabin. But I needed a reason for wanting a small place in the middle of nowhere. Writing might not be the most original reason for someone to hideout with but it was somewhat plausible and would hopefully explain why I would be out there alone.. I added to my story about being a writer by mentioning I was trying to get inspiration like Hendry Thoreau. It was evident she didn’t know who I was talking about so she switched direction and started telling me how helpful it would be to rent it out since money was a bit tight for her and her granddaughter. She then proceeded to do her best to tell me everything that was wrong about the place. After listening for a while she finally paused a bit and I quickly jumped in and asked if I could check out the place tomorrow. She agreed and said her granddaughter would take me up to see the place if I could come by after school left out for the day.
I quickly made an appointment to meet at 3:30. Thinking about what the lady’s granddaughter said the place might end up just being an old shack but I had a good feeling about the place. Worst case I could probably park a trailer on the property and live out of that. There was also the good possibility the given how desperate they seem to be to rent it she might consider an off the books cash agreement. I might be acting a bit paranoid wanting to skip any paper work but better safe than sorry. Heading out to my Jimmy I knew I wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight. Both from thinking about finally having someplace to call home and also how uncomfortable it was sleeping in the back of the Jimmy. For some reason the last though I had before falling asleep was to wonder what the granddaughter looked. Her voice sounded young but did that mean 12 or 18 years old?
Next day I followed the directions further and further into the mountains. Going from highway, to paved road and finally gravel. After getting lost a few times I finally pulled into a small but tidy looking cabin. Waiting out front to meet me was a pretty blond hair girl who I assumed was Sammy. Looking at her I was surprised at how cute she was. The old cutoff jeans and plain white t-shirt couldn’t hide a surprising full figure topped with a smile so bright I couldn’t help smiling back. Running up to the car before I could even turn it off she quickly announced
“Hi, I’m Sammy, come and meet my grandma”
She then open my car door and started tugging on my arm.
Laughing I responded “Hello Sammy, I would love to meet your Grandma.”
For a minute Sammy stopped with a surprised look then her grin got larger and she started tugging harder on my arm as she pulled me to their cabin.
Mrs. Hetcher, AKA “Grandma” was waiting in the doorway wiping her hands on a dish towel.
She smiled and said “Hello, Mr. Pritcher”
The smile didn’t quite reach her sharp eyes. It was obvious this woman was cautious when dealing with strangers and also probably surprised at how young I was. I decided to switch to plan B with my approach and try being charming. Not something I had a lot of experience with but after seeing Sammy I wanted them to have a good impression of me.
“Hello Mrs. Hatcher, I mean Gandma” I said with a smile. It’s good to meet you and your granddaughter after talking to you both on the phone. I hope I’m not disturbing your day coming straight over today.”
“”No, no not at all” she replied reaching out to shake my hand.
I was laying it on a bit thick but I thought I was off to a good start until Sammy jumped in and excitingly asked
“Are you a criminal running from the police and need Grandpa’s cabin to hide out” she exclaimed.
Grandma immediately swiped her across the backside with the towel before telling her to go inside and prepare some tea for the guest.
I continued the conversation with my partially fabricated story. Since all good lies need to have at least a little truth so I added a bit. My more believable version of why I wanted to rent an old cabin in the middle of nowhere continued. I talked about my parents, their life and goals and how I wanted to do something worthwhile in my life. I mentioned how I wanted to try living off the grid while I tried to write a novel about the planet and man’s impact on it.
Mentioning my parents along with my own small efforts toward stopping pollution got a sympathetic and understanding look from Grandma and from Sammy. When I finished Grandma excused herself to attend to something in the kitchen leaving me alone with Sammy. For some reason I felt like I was now about to receive the real interrogation and braced myself for it.
Sammy immediately started.
“Where are you from, where did you go to school, how old are you, what’s it like in the city?”
After 15 minutes of her questions without any time to properly answer any of them she stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and asked
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
“You’re very pretty” I exclaimed without thinking.
Man, she was good, I thought. Either that or she was a natural at interrogation sliding that question in just to see my reaction. She should give the FBI interrogation lessons. I immediately tried to get back control in this conversation by throwing her a compliment and quick questions.
“You must have a lot of boys chasing you” and a few seconds later “What grade are you in?”
With an embarrassed smile on her face and red cheeks she told me
“No, I get teased a lot in school” she then looked down and tugged at her ragged clothes.
Looking up at me with a hint of a challenge in her eyes she said “I’m a senior, they skipped me a grade.”
Grandma then came out with a plate of cookies telling me to help myself. She got after Sammy to saddle up a couple of horses to take me up and show me the cabin.
Shocked I immediately asked “why horses, couldn’t my car make it?”
Grandma apologized but said no one had been up in a couple of years and the trail was now so overgrown most cars couldn’t make it. But, she assured me she would get after their neighbor Bob to take his tractor and grade the trail enough for my 4 wheel drive.
Getting a bit worried about the cabin I was thinking of renting I went out to the yard to meet Sammy. She was sitting atop a big bay gelding holding the reins of a small spotted Appaloosa. Feeling a little embarrassed at the size difference along with my rather limited riding experience I clumsily climbed aboard the Appaloosa which Sammy introduced as “Dolly”, telling me she used to be Grandma’s horse until her hip started acting up. Sammy then headed out telling me to keep up. Watching her backside as it bounced up and down in the saddle I kept reminding myself I was here for a reason and chasing after a beautiful girl like Sammy did not fit into my plans.
After a half hour trail ride we reached a small clearing and Sammy slowed her horse down to allow me to catch up. As I rode up beside her she pointing across the clearing saying that was the cabin. It took a minute to spot being mostly hidden by the bushes and trees. All I could make out was a sharply pointed roof and some faded brown shingles. Looking at Sammy I could see her looking nervously at me wanting me to like the place. I couldn’t see any real details but I quickly commented on how pretty it was surrounded by all the trees. As we approached I started to get a better view and could see why Sammy and her Grandma referred to it as a shack. The cabin was on the small side and I doubted more than one or two people would fit.
Once we pulled up to the door which had a short porch in front I got a better look at the place. The most interesting thing I could see was how well fitted the mismatched wood of the outer walls were. It looked like someone took a lot of care to fit each piece even though the boards seem to come from different species of trees. Most was pine but the casing around the door and windows looked like poplar. I didn’t see a lock on the front door but that was no real surprise seeing how far out in the woods we were. Locked doors and tight security was a thing for towns and cities not for the countryside. Not because country people were more honest but more because being miles away from others made breaking into a empty houses a no witness kind of crime out here.
As the door opened with a bit of a squeal I got my first look inside. There were no trophy heads on the walls which made me happy since they were expected decor for a hunter’s cabin. The overall look was also somewhat of a surprise. Not because of the heavy dust on everything or the mismatched furniture in disrepair. What was a surprise was just how comfortable it somehow all looked together. The place had obviously not be used or even cleaned in a few years but the furniture was comfortable and well made. The walls were lined with bookshelves and an overstuffed recliner sat in front of the only window. From the evidence it looked like Sammy’s grandfather was more interested in the solitude and reading instead of actual hunting.
Sammy looking around the dusty cabin suddenly seemed to realize what condition it was in. With a quick embarrassed look on her face she started trying to clean the dust off of an end table.
Breathlessly saying “I’ll have the place cleaned up in no time”.
“Don’t worry” I said “All it needs is a little dusting and I can do that”
She continued to hurriedly explain how she would get the place spic and span before suddenly stopping and exclaiming “You’re going to rent place?”.
“Of course” I said with a smile, “It’s just what I need, peace and quiet with a cute girl to visit occasionally”.
With that cute comment the red on her face deepened even more as she stared at the floor.