by Jayne Louise
‘Probably,’ I repeated.
‘We’ll probably see him come out in another minute or two.’
But we didn’t. Curious, we crossed the little footbridge and made our way through the near-perfect darkness to the parking area. For a few tense moments we stood there at the end of the driveway peering off into the trees for any sign of an approaching vehicle. None came.
‘So he’s not coming in,’ Jem said. ‘He probably went right on by anyway.’
I nodded. We crossed the driveway and returned to the lavatories, where we got rid of our trash and each of us stood guard while the other had a quick shower– mostly splashing ourselves with clear water since we didn’t even take our shoes off. There was no sign of the ranger or whomever it had been at all, so I retrieved the stick from where I’d left it and led the way down the dark driveway towards the road.
A car went by– while we waited with hearts in mouths it illuminated the far end of the driveway and disappeaedr. Then the road went silent.
After two-thirds of the way we broke into a run and leaped out, as before, onto the highway. The road was silent and empty. We weren’t in a hurry now and strolled pretty casually across to the campsite entrance, about 50 yards down the road from the dark driveway. It’s on a curve and you can’t get a look both ways up and down the road, so we go by hearing. The sound of a car came from down the road, coming towards us. I waved Jem on ahead and stood at the entrance of the campsite path to see its headlights come around the bend. Right now it was illuminating the picnic area where we’d sat– that was about two tenths of a mile or more away. It wasn’t slowing down to turn in. I just shrugged and strolled the sandy path after Jem.
The campsite is a wide circular unpaved lane, mostly sand, with a clump of trees in the center and a few picnic tables and charcoal grilles along the right edge of the forest. To the left is a field, where the sky is open to the stars, with tall grass and probably poison ivy and burrowing rodents, so we never go there. Straight ahead, past the clump of trees in the center, is the hiking path where I’d hidden the car. Usually the ranger will come in with his SUV, make a slow lap of the place so his headlights shine all the way around, and then leave to go across to the boat-launch side if he didn’t go there first. That’s where he usually stays longer, maybe for the bathroom or to finish his coffee. The state troopers will pull into the boat-launch place too but we’ve never seen one in the campsite. It’s probably too sandy for their cars there.
I went a little ahead of Jem, waving the stick till we came into the first side of the clearing. ‘I like the stick,’ I whispered to her. ‘On a night like this….’
‘I like it dark like this,’ she said.
We started round the right side of the clump of trees, not to the other side by the field as we’d come through on our way out. I suppose that’s enough evidence that God was with us. The next thing I saw made my heart stop.
Immediately on the other side of the clump of trees was a white SUV.
I caught Jem’s shoulder with a little ‘slap!’ –but she had seen it too. For about five long seconds we just stood there, frozen in indecision and fear. At last I knew how the rabbit feels when he gets caught in the middle of the road.
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III
Jem dropped to a crouch. I did too, letting go of the stick. Slowly, silently, we lowered ourselves to lie on the ground, amidst whatever pine needles and other gook there was there, because neither of us cared about that now. The SUV was in a perfect place to observe anyone coming in through the campsite, especially if they would be proceeding through it to the hiking path– where the car was. So all I could think was that the ranger had spotted the car and was stealthily waiting for us to come get it so he could give us a ticket for illegally parking here after hours. It’s like a $300 fine, you know. They take it seriously.
‘Please, God,’ I breathed, ‘just let us get out of this.’
‘Amen,’ breathed Jem, for she had been praying the same thing.
After about two or three minutes nothing had happened. I mean nothing– the car had not moved, no one in it had moved, no lights had come on, and there had been no sounds. We had not moved either. We just lay there, half on top of each other, breathing quietly, waiting.
‘Crawl,’ Jem breathed against my leg.
I nodded and stuck one hand out in the direction of the camp grilles to our right. Like soldiers in slow motion we started out, side by side for one to hide beside the other, on elbows and knees with our rear ends held as low as we could make them. Several times I went right down on my tummy and froze, especially after accidentally cracking a twig or something too loudly. Surely by now the ranger would have heard us and tried waving a flashlight at us.
But no signs of life came from white SUV. The interior lights weren’t on either. Maybe it was a moonless night. Maybe there were a few trees between him and us. Maybe our suntans and dirty sneakers were dark enough to camouflage us. But how could anyone on a stakeout like this not have perceived two naked chicks crawling across the sand just 50 feet away?
We made it into the tree cover across the path, now about 60 feet straight behind him. I was very wary of crawling through the view in his rearview mirror but we were not going to have a choice. Somehow we had to get around behind him to get to the hiking path. Even then we’d be in his right-side window till we got far enough around the way the path bent. This guy had really picked the perfect spot to catch his after-hours intruder!
And then, when we had got to the car, what then? Well, we’d switched off the interior lights. We’d be able to get our clothes on. Then, I decided, we’d dash away up the hiking path, wait 15 minutes or so, and come hiking back down towards the campsite with the flashlight like we were long overdue coming back from a nature hike. We’d say the car had been here since it was legal, before dark. I don’t like lying, but the alternative of getting caught naked by this forest ranger wasn’t something I wanted to face either.
For a few long moments we cowered in the dark, both of us staring intently at the white SUV. It looked like a Cherokee, what the rangers use, but it could just as well not have been. Also we’d never seen any shape of a person sitting inside. I really was just about ready to stand up and just stroll right around behind it for the hiking path when it suddenly got worse.
We’d been so focused on the white SUV we hadn’t been paying attention to the road. Then from our left came headlights. Someone else was coming in!
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IV
With the second car’s noise to hide us I scampered around behind a tree, crouching very low with Jem behind me, almost on top of me. The headlights came in, turning right towards us, illuminating the tree but leaving us in shadow, and turned towards the SUV. We inched around, keeping on the other side of the tree from them. Then they stopped.
It was a regular Jeep, not like the ones the rangers use, and it was silver with a black roof. The windows were open and some girl leaned out and said in a normal tone, ‘That looks like them. Are they there?’
They were both staring at the SUV, completely unaware there could have been anyone else in the world but themselves and the other car. Using the clutch, the driver moved the Jeep forward a little. Then more. Then more. Then they went right around the SUV, slowed to look into the windows, and drove right out again. We could still hear them talking and laughing about their friends whom they had not seen here.
‘God,’ Jem breathed.
‘Ready for another pee yet?’ I whispered, and crept out from behind the tree. Slowly I stood up and stepped around, going behind the SUV about 60 feet away. Jem followed, and then we were both sidestepping towards the hiking path. It might have taken us two full minutes but then we were looking at the other side of the SUV.
Suddenly the lights returned from the road– the Jeep was coming back. Instantly we both bolted down the sandy hiking path, our feet silent and o
ur hearts racing. I didn’t waste time for the key– even as the headlights came around again, swinging by where we stood behind the foliage where the car was, I was lifting the hatchback of the car and diving in over the seats. After all, all we needed was clothes. We’d sort out the rest after that.
‘Don’t hit the horn!’ Jem cautioned me as I scrambled down into the driver’s seat.
I found my shorts and got them on and frantically straightened out my top even as Jem was doing the same thing in the other seat. Then I was struggling to free the key from the sneaker and shoving it into the ignition.
‘If they come this way, we’ll fake sleep,’ she whispered. ‘Maybe they’ll think we’ve been here all night.’
I nodded, not caring too much for that plan. Ahead, the headlights were still there. I cranked a window down a little and we sat still and listened. There were voices, just the guy and the girl from the Jeep. There was no one else. The white SUV had been empty the whole time.
The Jeep swung around and headed out again. I waited till they were on the road before starting the engine. Immediately I let go the clutch and pulled out, even before switching on the lights. In fact the hatchback was still up. I didn’t even slow down to look but drove right around the white SUV and charged out to the road, turning north, opposite from the way the Jeep had gone. They were half a mile away past the marina by then.
‘God,’ Jem sighed.
‘God is good,’ I said.
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Epilogue
I drove about halfway down to Batsto when the itching on our legs and arms got a little too much, and then I turned around in the middle of the road and headed back. We saw no other traffic. The SUV was probably still in the campsite, still empty, and still confusing the two idiots in the Jeep. But we no longer cared.
I turned down the launch-ramp driveway and steered straight up to the lavatories, where we both showered as completely as we could, having no soap and no shampoo, and dried off with some beach towels from the back of the car. And Jem got to have her pee.
We drove back down the road and most of the way up Route 9 before we put our clothes back on… just because.
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About Jayne
Jayne Louise was born in December 1987 and lived most of her youth in the seacoast resort of Surf City, New Jersey. She was taught in piano, cello, violin and guitar from an early age and co-founded, with her two younger sisters, a pop-music trio in 2002. The teens toured during the next three summers, adding the girls’ cousin and two others before recording, in 2006, their first of three CDs of original faith-based and youth-oriented rock music.
Besides music and literature Jayne’s interests include swimming, surfing, sailing and naturism. She first published components of the collection, Jayne’s Nature, online via personal blog and profile sites, chronicling the innocent adventures she and her sisters shared whilst hiking and boating throughout the New Jersey Pinelands.
She currently works in artiste management for a public-relations agency based in Ocean County, New Jersey.
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More adventures are told
in the upcoming complete edition
of Jayne’s Nature,
from Surf City Source media group.
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