Northern Lights: A Scorched Earth Novel

by Boyd Craven III

  “Somebody clue me in first,” I said.

  “Yes, if your appendix burst you will need these,” Jordan said loudly. “The toxic shock might kill you.”

  “You can’t be sure I had an attack or it burst!” Mr. Wood shouted.

  “It’s preventative since you won’t let me look,” Jordan shot back.

  “You’re not even a doctor, I’m not going to let you cut me open. There're no hospitals around here…” Mr. Wood’s voice rang out again despite Mrs. Wood trying to shush him.

  “What about the food?” Tracy asked me suddenly.

  “I know, we’ll have to go back soon either way,” I said, “otherwise it’ll spoil.”

  “I know, we don’t have to drag the boat all the way back to the cabin right away,” Brian said.

  “It’s not like we need it for fishing,” I told them both.

  “When you guys go, can you give me a lift back, so I can get the canoe?” Denise asked.

  I noticed her hands were at her side and she had a slight smile on her face. Tonya was a little red in the cheeks as well.

  “Listen, Mr. Wood, if you don’t want the medicine, it’s better off with us. I’m not going to waste it on somebody who won’t take it,” Jordan said angrily.

  We all turned to look. Mr. Wood was red in the face and Jordan was throwing his hands up in the air, before starting to pack the two bags.

  “Listen to him, Dan,” Debra was saying “It won’t hurt anything to take the medication, just in case.”

  “That’s what all doctors say, and then BOOM you’re dead, or they give out vaccinations that make the kids autistic or deaf…” he looked over at Tonya who met her father’s gaze and then deliberately stuck her tongue out at him and turned to face us.

  She started signing and I could tell she was saying something serious to her sister.

  “She wants to know if you can ask your friend Jordan to stay? We have an extra bedroom at the cabin.”

  “Why? He doesn’t look like he wants to stay,” I said nodding towards Jordan.

  It was true; he looked pissed, Mr. Wood looked pissed, and the only one who was trying to smile was Mrs. Wood who kept touching her husband’s arm or shoulder. Every time she did his volume went down and he calmed slightly, but he looked like a kettle that was fixing to boil over.

  “Because I’m worried. I can bring him back in the canoe in the morning.”

  “I’ll ask him,” I said, “Just…”

  “Ok, I’ll take the damned pills!” Daniel shouted to his wife who just smiled bigger and patted his arm.

  “Did Jordan just talk him into it?” I asked, confused by the sudden shift.

  “It’s

  whatever my mom whispered to him,” Denise said. She’s pretty good about it. My family’s just kinda crazy… especially about health problems.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “My sis was born deaf, mom is diabetic— “

  I winced at that, and Denise caught the look.

  “So my parents are both on opposite ends of the scale on medicine and doctors.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it was more about her mom than her situation.

  “Mom already knows. She’s been out of medicine for about three days now.”

  “I’ve got books, I can go through them, see if there're any natural remedies,” I told her.

  “I’ve got some too,” she said, “meet me tomorrow with Jordan and we’ll compare notes.”

  “If he’ll come,” Tracy piped up.

  “Oh trust me,” Denise said looking right at her sister, “I think my sister can talk him into staying.”

  Tracy batted her eyelashes at us innocently. It took me a second and I snickered when I realized what she was saying nonverbally.

  “Jordan,” I hollered, drawing his attention.

  “Yeah?” He asked.

  “Can you stick around here tonight in case there’s a medical issue? The girls will bring you back in the morning?”

  “Dude…” Jordan said loudly.

  Tonya walked up, pulled a notebook out of her pants pocket and a pen from another and wrote out a quick note, handing it to Jordan. The look of annoyance faded from his features and he looked at me and nodded.

  “Tom, tell me they have beer?”

  I busted up laughing, and then Brian, Tracy, Denise and I said quick goodbyes. We planned to take Denise back to the canoe and then meet up there in the morning again.

  * * *

  “So did you just pimp your sister out to keep Jordan there to watch your father?” Tracy asked, a hint of snark and bitch evident in her voice.

  “No, why would you ask that?” Denise asked from the bench in front of me.

  “The way she looked at you when you asked for Jordan to stay…”

  Brian busted up laughing and ended up moving from the seat next to his wife into the middle of the hull between benches. He was laughing so hard that I expected him to start pounding the bottom and the sides of the boat with his hands and feet.

  “What’s so funny?!” Tracy screamed.

  “Oh God, it was a little bit of that, but it wasn’t Denise trying to pimp out her sister. More like the other way around. Tonya was trying to get her sister and Tom…”

  “What?” Denise asked, staring holes into Brian who missed the death rays shooting from her eyes.

  “What, you think you two are the only ones who know ASL?” he howled.

  “Clue a brother in man,” I said as Denise’s ears turned red.

  “You know sign language?” Denise asked him, cutting me off.

  “Yeah, and I caught almost all of it,” Brian said, pounding on the sides of the boat.

  “What was it?” Tracy asked, curious.

  “Please don’t,” Denise pleaded, “At least wait until I’m off the boat.”

  “I can’t hold this one out on my bud, but I’ll wait till you’re off the boat and we’re into the woods before I tell him.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” I complained, frustrated.

  “Yeah, what’s the big deal?” Tracy complained.

  “I can’t, it’s just…” he howled with laughter, and it only intensified in volume the redder Denise’s face became.

  “This is embarrassing. I’m sorry about my buddy, he can be an asshole.” I said trying to say something to ease her discomfort.

  “He can be something, that’s for sure,” Denise said turning to face me.

  “So what’s your story?” she asked. “Tracy back there is obviously the ex-wife, and your buddy married her?”

  Tracy’s ears perked up and she moved across her husband’s writhing form and got on the bench seat next to Denise.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Tracy asked, an eyebrow arching menacingly.

  “Isn’t that against man law or something?”

  That surprised me and I busted up laughing as well. They didn’t notice it, but I also twisted the throttle a little more. We’d gone to their cabin against the wind, but for the return journey it was at our backs and I was opening the little motor up for all it was worth.

  “It would have been,” I explained, “Except I met Brian about six or seven years ago. What I didn’t know, was that Tracy and he had gotten married. In fact, I kinda hoped that Tracy had been hit by a Mack truck or died in a train derailment… or maybe an escaped hippo ate her like the parents in James and the Giant Peach or— “

  “That’s nice, real mature,” Tracy interrupted.

  “You two are something else,” Denise said, cracking a smile.

  “You have no idea,” Brian said, getting up from his spot in the middle and sitting on the front bench seat again.

  “Shut up,” both Tracy and I echoed.

  I grinned, Tracy grinned, but Brian and Denise frowned. Someday he’d have to clue me in.

  “Looks like we’re here, that was a fast turnaround,” Denise said as I cut the motor and let the boat coast into the sand, beaching itself.

  “Ye
s. What time tomorrow?” I asked her.

  “Don’t have a working clock or watch. How about an hour after sun-up?”

  “That sounds good to me,” I told them.

  “Thanks,” Denise said and moved from our boat to the canoe.

  “Have a safe trip back,” I called.

  “Thanks, you guys too. Thanks for helping. We really appreciate it.” Tracy said.

  “Bye,” all of us but Brian chorused.

  What was up with that? Was he feeling self-conscious because of me and Tracy having a ditto moment? That happened from time to time. Instead, Brian went to the front of the canoe and gently pushed it off the sand, giving her a quick escape to the open water.

  “Hey, Denise…” Brian hollered before she got too far out.

  “Yeah?” she called.

  “Jordan knows sign language, too.”

  The cursing that came out of that woman’s mouth left us all grinning, despite the foul language, and it didn’t let up until we lost sight of her.

  “Ready to get home so we can switch out that fish?” I asked.

  “You just want to know what she said,” Brian teased.

  “Yup. That too,” I acknowledged.

  “Well, good. You should wonder.”

  “So are you going to tell him?” Tracy asked.

  “Nope. Not till his revenge fantasy on you is lifted.”

  “What?” I almost shouted, “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “My deal was with the girl, not with you,” Brian said.

  “You’re dead to me,” I pointed to him and walked faster.

  “You ever wonder why he’s so anxious to find out what she said?” Brian asked his wife.

  “Probably because he was checking her out,” Tracy answered.

  That stopped me dead, but they went on like I wasn’t there, walking and talking.

  “She was checking him out as well. Was telling her sister all about staking her claim since there weren’t likely to be any handsome men left in this part of Canada, and she was lucky enough to flash her boobs right off the bat…”

  “She did what?” Tracy asked, pushing Brian away from her for a moment.

  “Tom walked up on her when she was taking a bath in the lake. ‘Admiring the view’ as she put it.”

  “The pervert,” Tracy said.

  “Yeah, said he was about as red as red could be when she saw him.”

  “Guys, I’m still standing right here,” I said.

  “So the sister wasn’t being pimped out for Jordan to stay.”

  “Oh no, Tonya had her own ideas for Jordan; the two were gossiping like girls probably gossip all over the world since their parents weren’t watching them. Seems they felt like they were going to die all alone and Tonya was telling her big sis to take one for the team…”

  “She didn’t look like she was complaining too much,” Tracy said, now a little snide sounding.

  “Nope. I think she was disappointed that Tom didn’t have to convince Jordan harder.”

  “Still standing right here,” I said.

  Tracy turned back to look at me without breaking stride, “You can be quiet. Grownups are talking.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  10

  I was the first one up, and I visited the outhouse and then used some of the last of the hand sanitizer before heading to the campfire ring. I stirred the coals and added a couple of big chunks. The smoker had gone mostly out, so while that wood was catching I dug out the ash from the previous day and took it to the fish cleaning station and spread it around. I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might help mask the smell and keep the bears from sniffing out anything that might fall from when we cleaned the fish. As it was, we used buckets of water from the lake to hose the top off.

  So far, the bears had left us alone since our first encounter.

  “You’re up early,” Tracy said, exiting the cabin and pulling the door shut behind her softly.

  “Couldn’t sleep much,” I admitted. “Brian still out cold?”

  “Yeah,” she said, looking out across the lake.

  There was a covering of fog or mist that rose up from the lake in the morning. The air was cooler than the water, making a light fog that burned away as soon as the sun rose fully, but it was quiet and serene. Sometime during the night it must have rained, because the grass was heavy with moisture and the bottoms of my pants were wet from walking about doing my morning chores.

  “You need a hand with anything?” she asked me.

  “No,” I said, feeling hollowed out.

  I’m normally a pretty happy go lucky guy, but there're days where I wake up and I’m just down. I mean, down in the dumps and can’t pick myself back up. It had happened again and I had no idea why. It happened from time to time; no reason, no excuse. Usually watching football or hanging out with my buddies would alleviate it, but not quite cure it. Tracy knew what those days were like, and she did what she always did. She stood next to me and…

  “Penny for your thoughts?” she asked. “Thinking about Denise?”

  “No,” I told her truthfully. “My mind is in a freewheel,” I said.

  “The thinking about nothing but brooding about everything?” she asked.

  “Yes, pretty much,” I told her.

  “Anything in particular bothering you?” she said, bumping her hip against mine, testing my balance playfully.

  “Your breath,” I said straight-faced and then dodged as she tried to push me. She almost tripped, but I caught her from going over and I laughed.

  Just that moment, the sun rose on the far horizon and my mood immediately started lifting. I could feel the dark brooding thoughts burning away, just like the fog over the lake’s surface.

  “You’re an ass,” Tracy told me, but she was smiling.

  “Yeah. What do you want for breakfast?” I asked.

  We’d taken to cooking whenever we could on the bottom two shelves of the smoker to conserve wood, and, if we were going to bake something, that’d be the place to do it.

  “Can you save some coals for me to try out a pancake mix?” she asked.

  “Sure…” I said, curious.

  She went back into the cabin, and a moment later came back out. She’d prepared the batter apparently, and it was in a plastic pitcher. I could see some crushed blueberries in the thick mixture and I smiled. She didn’t know how much pucker power they had. Apparently she saw me smirking, though.

  “I used some sugar to compensate for the sour. Now, get me a good spot in the campfire, this will only take a few minutes. I think.”

  I pushed the coals more or less even on one side and she set the cast iron pan down on the coals. Soon it was hot and I could see the heat rising off it. I watched as she used a thick towel to grab the handle and place it on the rack we’d scavenged from the Coleman smoker, and she put both over the fire where I was burning some larger pieces into hot coals.

  “You look like you’ve been practicing,” I told her. “I mean, you were kinda legendary for burning water.”

  That elicited an icy glare. “You can’t burn water, asshole.”

  “Well, if anybody could, it’s you,” I said smiling. “Really, your cooking has improved.”

  “I took some classes and Brian’s mother taught me some things,” she admitted after a few minutes.

  “Well, if those berries aren’t too tart, this should be awesome!”

  She poured the batter into the hot skillet and immediately saw bubbles rise in the batter. She pulled a plastic spatula from her back pocket where she’d hidden it and flipped it.

  “Go get me some plates,” she murmured.

  I obliged and headed into the cabin where a shirtless Brian stood stretching, his hair a total mess.

  “Where’s Tracy?” he asked as I was walking out the door with three plates.

  “Cooking pancakes,” I told him.

  “God help us all,” he murmured, making the sign of the cross.

  “You married her,” I sni
ped.

  “You married her first.”

  He was right, and my heart really wasn’t into a snark fest, so I pushed the door open and headed out. I held out a plate and she deftly flipped a pancake the size of the pan onto it. I set the other two plates down on the picnic table and headed back to the cabin. Brian met me at the door and I handed it to him. He already had the silverware in his hand, so I followed him to where he sat by the picnic table. I sat down and grinned.

  “You didn’t spit on it, did you?” he asked.

  “Nope, but not a bad idea. Without syrup it might need a little something-something.”

  “You’re gross,” Tracy piped up, flipping the next one over.

  I watched entranced as Brian contemplated his plate. He cut off a wedge and quickly stuffed a piece in his mouth, chewing furiously.

  “Well?” Tracy asked.

  Brian didn’t say anything, instead, he held up a finger to finish chewing. He took another bite. I waited for him to fall over in convulsions, dead of instant food poisoning.

  “It’s different. Is this the cattail flour mix?” he said.

  “In part, yes,” Tracy said. “Mixed with some regular flour. Is it horrible?”

  “It’s not bad, it’s just different than I expected. The blueberries were a nice touch.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Tracy flipped another pancake onto a plate and pushed it in front of me before turning to pour the rest of the batter into the skillet. I gave it an ugly look and then looked up to see both of them staring at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked aloud.

  “What are you waiting for?” Tracy asked me.

  “Your husband to fall over, kicking and screaming, holding his stomach and calling for Mommy.”

  “You’re almost 40 years old, and you haven’t matured a day past the ninth grade,” Tracy said.

  “Eigth, that was the best year of my life,” I said, smiling broadly.

  “You really should try it,” Brain said, chewing another bite.

  “You want mine?” I asked Brian.

  “Why do you always rag on my cooking?” Tracy asked.

  “Because you could never cook without burning anything.” I told her.

  She stood up straight, cocked her hip to one side and rested the hand with the spatula on it and pointed with her free hand. I’d wound her up enough to let loose with a verbal equivalent of a spear of vileness but I just smiled suddenly and took a bite.