by Bill H Myers
“When I got to Oasis, the employee gate was open. I drove through it and back to the wildlife care center where Denise was waiting for me. We grabbed two guys from the shop, and they helped us get the panther into the motorhome.
“I put Bob in the bathroom while we were doing that to keep him safe. But when I let him out, he saw the panther and freaked out. He started hissing and howling and hyperventilating. It wasn't good for him or the panther. So I grabbed him up, sedated him and put him in your carry case.
“Even with him sedated, I didn't think I'd be able to drive the motorhome and watch over him. So I asked Denise to watch him until you showed up.
“I tried calling you before I left Oasis, but there was no cell service. I wanted you with me, but I didn't want to wait around until Kenny showed up.
“I knew there was no way I was going to be able to drive the motorhome on I-75 through Naples and Fort Myers, especially with a panther in the back. So I needed to find a place to meet up with you before I reached the interstate.
“There aren't many places on Alligator Alley big enough to hide the motorhome, but I remembered the Skunk Ape Museum had a campground. I know the guy who runs the place and knew he'd let me stay there overnight.
“I didn't want Denise knowing exactly where I was going, so I wrote 'Skunk Ape' on the note and had her give it to you. You got it, and here you are.”
I shook my head. “I still can't believe there's a panther in my bed. Will she be okay there tonight?”
“Yeah, she'll be okay. She's been sedated so she'll sleep through the night. The kittens have been fed, and they'll stay in their box in the same room with her.
“I called Big Cat Rescue and confirmed they have a place set aside for the mother and kittens. All we have to do is get them there safely.”
“What about Kenny?”
“As long as he doesn't know we're here, he won't be a problem. Even if he does find us, what's he going to do? I've got you and four panthers on my side.”
I was about to say something when Lori's phone chimed. She looked at the caller ID. “It's Denise. I'll see what she wants.”
She took the call.
“Yes, he's here. Thanks for giving him the note.”
“Really?”
“What about Callie?”
“That's what I figured.”
“He did what?”
“When's his last day?”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“That far? That should keep him out of trouble for a while.”
“Will do. And thanks for your help with this. Don't forget the job offer.”
“I'll tell him.”
She ended the call.
“You'll never guess what happened.
“Kenny showed up about twenty minutes after you left and handed in his resignation. He said he was going to Alaska. Going to live in his camper until he found a job.
“Callie wasn't with him, and he didn't say anything about her. He just said he'd had enough of Florida and would be leaving in the morning.”
I nodded. “So Kenny won't be bothering us?”
“That's what it sounds like. He's busy emptying out his trailer and getting his truck ready for the trip.”
I nodded. “A long road trip might be just what he needs.”
Lori pointed to the chickee hut. “Anything you need from the motorhome before we head up there?”
“Yeah, maybe a shower and some clean clothes. Think that would be possible?”
She shook her head. “No, don't take a shower in there. Use the campground showers instead. They're down in the bathhouse. You probably passed it on your way in.
“After you shower, come up to the chickee hut. I'll be waiting for you.”
She started to walk away, but I stopped her. “Give me the keys to the motorhome.”
She turned back to me. “What do you need the keys for? You afraid I'm going to take off in it again?”
“No, it's not that. I need a towel and clean clothes for my shower. From inside the motorhome. I need the keys to get in.”
She held the keys in the air. “Let's swap. I give you the motorhome keys, and you give me the keys to the van.”
“Why do you need the van keys? You planning on going somewhere while I'm in the shower?”
“No, I'm not going anywhere. But you bought the things on my list, right? And they're in the van?”
I nodded. “Yeah they're in there. Along with Bob.”
“Then I need the keys.”
I handed her the keys and said, “Be careful with Bob. I'd hate to lose him out here in the Everglades.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Like most campgrounds in Florida, the bathhouse at Trail Lakes was a one-story, concrete block building painted white on the outside with one door for men and another for women.
Walking into the men's side, I found the typical layout; a row of urinals against the left wall, four sinks with a large mirror in the center of the room and four shower stalls against the far right wall.
An unpainted cement floor sloped to a drain in the middle of the room to catch water splashed out of the sinks and showers. Overhead, three rows of fluorescent bulbs provided light and served as an attraction for flying insects.
The place was clearly designed to be functional, easy to clean, and able to withstand the heat and humidity of South Florida.
The shower stall farthest from the door looked the cleanest, so I chose it. Pulling back the plastic privacy curtain, I was happy to see a small seating area as well as hooks to hang up clothes and towels.
I turned on the water and let it warm up. I'd been in many campgrounds and knew not to expect hot water in the showers, at least not right away.
During my travels, I'd learned that most campgrounds in Florida have solar hot water systems. Basically black pipes on the roof to absorb heat from the sun.
When the weather's right, they can produce a lot of very hot water. After the sun goes down and the stored hot water is used up, the showers run cold.
Fortunately, there weren't many people taking showers that late in the day, and there was plenty of hot water left.
As I stood in the shower letting the warm water wash over me, I thought about all the things that had happened since Polly had talked me into this trip.
I'd met Lori, seen my first real live panther, spent the night at Oasis Ranger Station, hiked out into the Everglades, rescued a panther kitten, driven to Miami, recovered two more kittens, camped in a casino parking lot, and had my motorhome taken on a joyride.
That night I'd be sleeping in a chickee hut at the edge of the Everglades at the Skunk Ape Research Center, while a full grown panther slept in my bed in the motorhome.
When Polly had talked me into doing this so-called small favor for her, she said it would be easy. Pick up Doctor Joy, drive to Oasis, wait two hours, and drive back.
She didn't say anything about panthers, gators, hiking through the Everglades or camping in a casino parking lot.
But I really couldn't complain. Meeting Lori hadn't been so bad. And how often do you get the chance to actually see and hold a panther kitten?
Even hiking through the Everglades, searching for the panther nest, had been fun, for the most part.
Of course, when Lori took off in my motorhome and I had to figure out her cryptic note, things got a little stressful. But, overall, the time on the road with her hadn't been bad.
Still, there was the chance that while I was standing in the shower reminiscing, she could have been packing up the van and been long gone before I got back to camp.
She did have the keys, and she could leave if she wanted to. I didn't think she would because there was no way she could move the mother panther from the motorhome to the van without help. And surely she wouldn't leave without her.
Still, I thought it would be wise to get back to camp sooner rather than later.
I climbed out of the shower, dried off, and changed into clean clothes. I
hadn't brought a razor so didn't bother to shave. I bundled up my dirty clothes and headed back to the campsite.
On the way there, I remembered what Lori had said about the night in the Everglades. About how that's when the creatures come out. I was half expecting to walk up on a skunk ape or gator.
That didn't happen. But it didn't mean they weren't out there. Just that they were good at hiding.
Back at the campsite, I was happy to see that both vehicles were still parked where they'd been when I headed off to the shower.
Lights in the chickee hut along with movement inside suggested Lori was up there. Before going up to see her, I went over to the van to check on Bob. This was the first night he hadn't been in the motorhome in almost a year. He wouldn't be happy about being locked up in the van.
The last time Bob was forced to spend the night in a strange place, he'd tried to escape. We'd stopped in a small town in Mississippi, and I'd gotten out to check on a tire. When I opened the door to get back in, Bob was waiting. He launched himself out the door, streaked across the parking lot and hid under a parked car.
When that car started to drive away, Bob darted from it to another, trying to find a safe place. We were near a highway, and there was a steady stream of cars coming in and out of the parking lot. Bob was frantic, running from car to car and I was afraid he was going to get hit.
A family coming out of a nearby store saw what was going on and came to my aid. With their help, we were able to corral Bob and get him back in the motorhome. It was a close call, something I never wanted to experience again.
It's been several months since Bob had last tried to make a run for it. He thinks the motorhome is his home, and it's the place he prefers to be. It's where his people live, where his food and water are, and where his favorite sleeping spots are found.
But that night, he wouldn't be sleeping in the motorhome. He'd been kicked out and put in the van. There was a good chance he was planning his escape.
I had to be careful when opening the door to check on him. That meant I had to distract him. I had to make him think I was coming in one door, but actually I would be opening another.
I started by going to the driver's side of the van. I tapped on the door and called Bob's name to get his attention. Then I quickly went to the back door, opened it and climbed inside, closing the door behind me.
Looking around, I saw that the shopping bags filled with the things from Lori's list were gone. And there was no sign of Bob.
Lori must have come down and gotten the bags while I was in the shower. Hopefully, Bob didn't get out while she had the doors open. I called out his name. “Bob, you in here?”
No answer. Usually, when he hears his name, he responds. He'll say something like, “Murrph.”
But not this time. I called out his name again. “Bob, you in here?”
No answer. He was either hiding or he was gone.
I checked under the front seats, in the wheel wells and up under the dash. No Bob.
Like most cats, he's pretty good at hiding, but in the empty cargo van with its bare walls, there weren't many places for him to hide.
I tried again, this time giving Bob a reason to come out. “Bob, I've got food.”
Normally, when he hears the word “food, he comes out to investigate—even if he isn't hungry. But not this time. He didn't show. He wasn't in the van.
Hopefully, Lori knew where he was.
I climbed out of the van and headed up the stairs to the chickee hut. Lori met me at the door. Before I even asked, she said, “Bob's in here with me. He's over there in the window.”
I looked over her shoulder and saw Bob sitting on the sill of the large picture window, leaning against the screen. He turned and looked at me, nodded, and then went back to whatever he had been doing before I arrived.
I was relieved to see he was safe. He'd been with me for almost a year, and I'd gotten used to having him around.
Lori saw me looking at him and smiled. Then she asked, “So how was your shower?”
“It was good.”
“So, you're all refreshed, right?”
I nodded. “I am.”
“Good. Are you hungry?”
“I'm starting to get that way.”
“Good.”
She tossed me the keys to the van. “Take the van, go about a mile west on Alligator Alley and you'll find Joanie's Blue Crab Cafe. I called in an order. Our food will be ready when you get there.
“Before you leave, give me the keys to the motorhome.”
I didn't mind going to get the food. In fact, I was glad Lori had called in an order. But I wasn't sure I should give her the keys to the motorhome. It's not that I didn't trust her, but the last time I gave her the keys she took off without me.
I brought this to her attention. “The keys? You planning on going somewhere?”
She shook her head. “No, I'm not going anywhere. I need the keys so I can unlock the door and get the wine from the fridge. Is that okay with you?”
I could tell she was a little annoyed I'd questioned her about the keys. But I didn't want to risk the motorhome being gone when I got back, so I said, “No problem. I'll unlock the door for you on my way out.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
It took less than five minutes for me to get to the Blue Crab Cafe. It was after dark, and there wasn't much traffic on Alligator Alley. All the tourists were back in their hotel rooms, not wanting to drive the road after sundown.
Even without the tourist traffic, I had to be careful. The animals that live in the Glades come out at night, and some of them might have been on the road. So I took it slow.
The unpaved parking lot of the Blue Crab was about half full. Mostly pickup trucks, the kind driven by people who work for a living. The van I was driving would fit right in.
From the outside, the Blue Crab looked pretty much what you'd expect a crab shack in the middle of the Everglades to look like; a weathered wood building up on piers sitting in the middle of a dirt parking lot. Three wide steps led up to the front door. Off to the side, a screened in porch for those who wanted to dine outside.
Inside, the place had a down home feel. Rough sawn cypress walls, exposed wood beam ceiling, pine floors. The kind of 'old Florida' look trendy new restaurants work hard to get these days.
The Blue Crab wasn't trying to be trendy. It was what it was—an authentic old time crab shack in the middle of the Everglades.
An older woman wearing an apron, standing behind the bar, looked up at me and smiled. She picked up a menu and headed my way.
“You eating with us tonight?”
“No, we called in an order. My girlfriend sent me over to pick it up.”
She smiled. “You timed it right. Your food just came out.”
I followed her to the register where she rang up the order. Behind her, scribbled on a chalkboard, were the words, “If you want fast food, keep traveling. 42 miles west or 66 miles east. Happy trails, y'all.”
I smiled. That sign told me a lot about the place and the people who ran it. I paid for the food and put a ten in the tip jar. You've got to support these kinds of places. Not many of them left.
As I turned for the door, the woman said, “Come back in the morning. We'll feed you a hot breakfast. It'll get your day started out right.”
It sounded like a good idea to me. A hot breakfast might be just what we needed after a night in the Skunk Ape Campground.
The drive back was uneventful, unless you counted the glowing eyes of unknown creatures lurking in the ditches on both sides of the roads. I figured some were gators. Maybe even a skunk ape or two. But I wasn't going to stop and find out.
Back at the campground, I parked the van and headed up the stairs to the chickee hut. When I reached the top, Lori was waiting for me.
“That didn't take long. Was the food ready when you got there?”
“It was. It's a pretty interesting place. Might have to go back there for breakfast.”
“Yeah, or maybe we'll eat there the next time you bring me down here.”
That gave me pause. Was she thinking we might do this again? I had to ask. “So you think there will be a next time? You think I'm going to volunteer to do this again?”
She smiled. “Walker, there will be a next time. You'll see. We'll talk about it later, but right now, let's eat.”
She held the door while I brought in the food then said, “Put it on that table, then go say, 'HI,' to Bob. While you're doing that, I'll fix our plates.”
I put the bags on the table and walked over to the window where Bob was sitting. When he saw me coming, he stood and stretched and when I got close enough, he leaned his head into my hand as I reached out to pet him. I stroked his back and rubbed his ears until he purred. He was happy.
From behind me, Lori announced, “Food's ready.”
I left Bob and joined her at the table.
She pointed to the plates and said, “I didn't know what you'd want so I ordered the house special—alligator salad. It'll give you a real taste of the Everglades.”
I looked at the salad with the large chunks of meat and said, “Never had alligator, but it looks pretty good. You get the same thing?”
“Yeah, I got the same. I've had it before, and it was interesting.”
She was right, it was interesting. Not something I'd want to eat all the time, but it wasn't bad. The meat tasted a lot like chicken, but with a hint of crab.
Lori had opened one of the two bottles of wine she'd brought up from the motorhome. I wasn't sure what kind of wine was supposed to go with an alligator, but after the first glass, I was pretty sure it was the one we were drinking.
She kept refilling our glasses while we were eating, and by the time we had finished our meal, we were both feeling pretty good. We were fed, had a slight wine buzz, and were happy the day had gone so well.
As we sat there, digesting our meal, I asked her, “You said you know the guy who runs this place?”
She nodded.
“And he's the guy who runs the skunk ape center?”
She nodded again.
