Cabin Girl

by Kristin Butcher

  Cook looks up from the ham she’s slicing and scowls. “Are you responsible for the shore lunch boxes?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Why? Is there a problem?”

  Cook clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “You could say that. Three of them were messed up. No pork and beans in one. No flour in another. Another one was missing bread. You can’t be making those kinds of mistakes, Bailey. It’s a good thing April looked the boxes over this morning. If they’d gone out like you filled them, there’d be the devil to pay, and that’s the truth.”

  “Really?” I say. “They were that bad? I checked each box twice against the list.” I know I was tired when I was doing it, but did I really screw up three boxes?

  Cook sighs and shakes her head. “I need some cheese grated.”

  I nod, but I have a rock in my stomach. This is not a good way to start the day.

  It gets worse. As well as grating the cheese, I grate my finger, and Tricia has to take over. When April comes in, I’m in a corner buttering toast.

  “The guides will be coming in for breakfast soon.” Cook nods to the warming pans, so April and I start moving them into the staff dining room. I’m on my way back to the kitchen for another when there’s a big bang.

  “Bailey!” April hollers from the staff room.

  I fly back. The floor is carpeted with scrambled eggs.

  “What happened?”

  She glares at me. “What do you think happened? You left the warming pan on the edge of the counter and it fell on the floor. Tell Cook we’re going to need more eggs. Then help me clean up this mess.”

  I want to protest. I didn’t leave the pan where it could topple over. Did I? But now I’m not sure, and there’s no time to argue, so I bite my tongue and do what April says.

  The day is doomed. Before the guests show up for breakfast, Gabe cruises through the dining room and spots a dirty coffee cup on one of my tables.

  “I know you don’t wash the dishes, Bailey,” he says, “but the tables are your responsibility. Imagine what a guest would think if he went to drink out of this.”

  It doesn’t get any better. During service, an entire table has to ask for napkins. Another has no cutlery. How can I be screwing up so much? It’s like my first week at the lodge all over again.

  I’m actually relieved when it’s time to clean cabins, especially when I find a four-leaf clover in the grass. I start at cabin one, and April starts with cabin eleven. She has the wagon, so I have to keep making trips back and forth to the washhouse to drop off soiled linen and get fresh stuff. It bugs me how April’s taken over my job, but I don’t say so. I don’t want her to tell Gabe I’m complaining.

  Finally, we’re done, and we have some time to ourselves before dinner. I go back to where I saw the witch. The ground is still all chewed up. I’m relieved. It proves what I saw last night was real. I want to tell April, but she isn’t exactly being friendly, so I decide to keep the witch to myself—for now, anyway.

  As the fishing boats start returning, I head back up to the lodge. I pour myself a glass of lemonade and take it out to the back deck. Before I’ve had even a sip, Winnie comes storming out of the washhouse.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demands.

  “What do you mean?” I look around guiltily, though I can’t think what I could have done wrong. “I’m sitting down?”

  “Not when there’s work to be done, you’re not,” she says. “Guests in cabin three don’t have any towels. You better be taking them some—right now—and make sure you apologize. Then you can take some toilet tissue to cabin four and say you’re sorry to them too. Is this how you do your work? Sitting down? Because if it is, you can sit yourself down on the next plane out of here.”

  “Winnie, I’m…I’m sorry,” I sputter. “Did I really forget to put towels and toilet tissue in the cabins?”

  “Would I be telling you if you hadn’t?” she hollers. “Don’t ask silly questions. Just fix it! And when you’re done, you can dust the lodge.”

  I deliver the towels and tissue and then head to the lodge with my duster. I’m in a fog. The day has been one disaster after another. It’s bad enough that I’m screwing up, but I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

  The lodge doesn’t seem to be the least bit dusty, but I give everything a thorough cleaning anyway. I don’t want Winnie yelling at me again.

  I work my way to Gabe’s office. Maybe he’d like me to dust in there too. The door is open and I can hear a voice, so I don’t knock. Instead, I take my duster to a table in the hallway.

  I’m not really listening, but it soon becomes clear that the voice is talking on the phone. It’s not Gabe. But that’s not unusual. Cell phones are useless in the woods, so guests often use Gabe’s phone.

  I’m thinking I should probably come back later when I realize the voice belongs to Dennis Savoy. Suddenly, I’m curious.

  “Yes, sir, that’s right. I have all the information we need to proceed. I’ll be leaving tomorrow as planned. I’ll fax everything to you once I get back to my office.”

  My duster stops. What does that mean? It sounds like Dennis Savoy is at the lodge for business, not pleasure. But what business? He’s a field investigator. I still don’t know what that is.

  I think about all the pictures Dennis Savoy has taken and all the questions he’s asked me and other people at the lodge. Is he gathering evidence to use against the lodge somehow? Why would Savoy be investigating the lodge? Is somebody suing Gabe? Is the lodge involved in something illegal? Has Gabe broken some law?

  Stop it! I scold myself. The man could be here for positive reasons. Maybe the lodge is up for an award. Or maybe the people Dennis Savoy works for are planning a big company trip.

  I hear him say, “Absolutely. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’m back in the city. Talk to you then. Goodbye.”

  Instant panic! If Dennis Savoy sees me, he’ll know I was eavesdropping. But my run of bad luck is still holding. As I turn to leave, I knock an ornament off the table, and it clatters to the floor. I make a dive for it just as Dennis Savoy exits Gabe’s office.

  Sprawled on the floor at his feet, I look up and smile innocently. “Hi.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dennis Savoy has to know I was eavesdropping, but he just helps me to my feet and walks away. At dinner, he sits at one of April’s tables. I’m glad. I would be uncomfortable serving him, especially since I can’t decide if I should tell Gabe about his phone conversation. If the lodge is under investigation, Gabe should know. On the other hand, I could get in big trouble for spying on a guest.

  The next morning, the camp turns into a wilderness airport. From ten until noon, it’s one plane after another, soaring off with our guests. Every last one of them. The weird part is that there are no more coming in.

  When all of the guests have gone, Gabe calls a meeting on the dock.

  “Okay, everyone. Listen up.” He rubs his hands together thoughtfully. “We have an empty camp—though not for long. Tomorrow morning, we’ll be bursting at the seams again. But today we can relax. So here’s what I’m suggesting. Let’s use the next few hours to prep for tomorrow’s arrivals.

  “After that”—his eyes start to twinkle—“we should unwind a little. We’ve earned it.” He smiles. “I suggest a little fishing derby, followed by a late shore lunch at George’s lunch spot. What do you say?”

  A mini cheer goes up.

  Gabe glances at his watch. “All right then. Let’s aim to be finished our work and back on the dock by four thirty.”

  I don’t know who picked the teams for the derby, but I end up in a boat with April and Sloan. A few days ago that would have been great. But considering how cool April has been to me lately, I’m not exactly thrilled. Still, this is supposed to be a fun evening, so I paste a smile on my face and climb into the bow of the boat. April takes the middle seat, and Sloan, of course, sits in the stern.

  He’s totally straight-faced when he says, “Okay, girls, you better
be ready to do some serious fishing, because I hate to lose.”

  April laughs. “Hey, you’re the guide. You take us to the fish, and we’ll reel them in.” She turns in her seat and grins at me. “Right, Bailey?”

  That catches me off guard. Lately, all April’s done is scowl at me, so I’m not sure what to make of her smile. Is she saying she wants to be friends again? I guess time will tell.

  I nod and smile back. “Absolutely.”

  We don’t win the derby, but we do catch fish, and we have fun doing it. In fact, we laugh so much that by the time we get to George’s lunch spot, my stomach hurts. April is back to her old self, and that is a huge relief. Taking on two jobs and having to train me was a lot of pressure. She was probably just stressed. I know I was.

  “That walleye was so good!” Ed groans as he loosens his belt. “I wish I could eat it all over again.”

  “It was wonderful!” Cook exclaims. “I could use you fellas in my kitchen.”

  A few of the guides smile sheepishly.

  “Well done, everyone,” Gabe says. “But there’s a ton of paperwork to do and somebody needs to man the phones, so I have to get back to the lodge.”

  Although I’m having a really good time, I think I should go back too. It’ll give me a chance to tell Gabe about Dennis Savoy. I open my mouth to ask for a ride, but Winnie beats me to it.

  She hauls herself up from the picnic table and says, “I’ll come with you. I still have laundry to finish.”

  So much for that. I watch as Gabe and Winnie speed away, and then I help with the cleanup. Afterward, one of the guides pulls out a guitar, and everyone settles around the fire. Before you know it, we’re singing up a storm. I notice April and Sloan are missing, but I don’t think much of it. They probably want some time to themselves.

  When Ed announces we’re leaving in fifteen minutes, I head into the bush to get rid of the three cans of soda I’ve drunk. I’m not looking for company while I do my business, so I walk until I can barely hear the singing. Up ahead there’s a monstrous rock. Perfect.

  But as I undo my jeans, I hear voices. They’re close, so I refasten my pants and listen. It’s April and Sloan, and from the sound of it, they’re on the other side of the rock. I start to tiptoe away, but when I hear my name, I stop.

  “I have never seen anyone as superstitious as Bailey.” April giggles. “Tricking her into thinking I was the witch was the easiest thing I’ve ever done! I wish I could’ve seen the look on her face. The way she took off, she could’ve won the Olympics. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing.”

  “You should’ve been in my shoes,” Sloan says and snickers. “She ran into me like she’d been shot from a cannon. Then she started beating on me with everything she had. I’ve got major bruises.”

  “Aw, poor baby,” April croons.

  Suddenly it gets quiet, and I’m pretty sure I know what’s happening. I should leave, but I’m too stunned to move. Although I heard April with my own ears, it takes a while for the truth of her words to sink in. There was no witch. It was just a mean trick.

  April sneers, “The little princess has absolutely no clue. She’s more trusting than a puppy.”

  “Why are you so hard on her?” Sloan says. “She’s a kid.”

  “Yeah, a spoiled kid. The only reason Gabe took her on is ’cause she’s his goddaughter. I worked as cabin girl for two whole summers before I got promoted to waitress. Bailey’s here barely three weeks, and she gets moved up! She’s used to being a guest—not staff. Working at the lodge is a game to her. She doesn’t need the money.”

  “Maybe not like some people,” Sloan concedes, “but you gotta admit she’s a good worker.”

  “I don’t have to admit anything,” April growls. “Why are you sticking up for her?”

  “Like I said, she’s just a kid. The witch scam was one thing. It was funny, and I was okay with keeping Bailey occupied while you got back to the cabin. But you’ve really got it in for her.”

  “Are you referring to her little screwups yesterday?” April says. “That goes to show what a freakin’ little innocent she is. No wonder her parents don’t give her any freedom. She never suspected for a second that I was behind it. If anyone else messed up that bad, they would’ve got fired for sure, but not our Bailey.” There’s another pause and then, “Do you have any more beer?”

  I feel my eyebrows shoot up. Alcohol is off-limits to staff.

  “Not here. But back at camp. We can continue our party there—if you know what I mean.” Sloan chuckles. “I’ll bring the beer. You bring—”

  Just then there’s a shrill whistle, and my stomach does a flip.

  “It must be time to leave,” Sloan says. “Ditch these beer cans and let’s get back before—”

  I don’t hang around to hear the rest.

  Chapter Ten

  I climb into the first boat heading back. As soon as it docks, I bolt for my cabin. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I can take a joke, but what April did wasn’t funny. It was mean.

  I crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling. All I want is for sleep to come, but it’s not even in the building. My eyes blur with tears that spill over and slide into my ears.

  Angrily, I pound the bed. Why am I crying? Because I was tricked? Because I was the brunt of a joke? Because April doesn’t like me?

  It’s none of those things. I’ve been pranked and laughed at lots of times, and April isn’t the first person who hasn’t liked me.

  The thing that gets to me is that I trusted her. I opened up to her. I told her about myself—private stuff that I haven’t shared with almost anyone. I thought she was my friend.

  But she never was. She never liked me. She called me a princess. She told Sloan my secret, and she said I was spoiled.

  Spoiled? Ha! At home, I have chores every single day, and I don’t even get an allowance. I can really use the money I earn at the lodge.

  But that’s not the point. April’s had it in for me from the start.

  But why? It doesn’t make any sense.

  I’m still trying to figure it out a couple of hours later when April comes in. She doesn’t turn on the light. Instead she stumbles around in the dark, bumping into furniture and then swearing like it was the furniture’s fault. What she doesn’t crash into she smacks with the plastic bag she’s carrying. From the way it rustles and clanks, I’m guessing it’s full of empty beer cans. Finally, April makes it to the bed and collapses. The bag of cans clatters to the floor.

  I wake to early-morning sun and April snoring. The cabin reeks of stale beer. Since the new guests don’t start arriving until ten o’clock, there’s no rush to get up, except that I need some fresh air. If I breathe in any more beer fumes, I’ll be drunk too.

  I shower and dress. April still hasn’t moved. In fact, I don’t think she’s moved all night. She’s sprawled facedown on the bed, fully dressed. There are beer cans spilling out of a plastic bag on the floor—a lot of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if April stays passed out until tomorrow.

  I think about getting Gabe. One look at April and she’d be leaving on the next plane. It’s nothing less than she deserves, but—

  A light goes on in my brain. Picking up my clock, I smile and set the alarm for right now. Then I stroll over to April’s bed and pull the pin.

  Instantly, the whole cabin starts jangling. I flinch, even though I know what’s coming. April’s eyes snap open and her body jerks off the bed. She grabs desperately at empty air, but it doesn’t help, and she drops to the floor in a noisy heap, knocking the beer cans every which way.

  “Oh god!” She belches and claps a hand over her mouth. Then she claws her way to her feet and stumbles to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  She’s there for quite a while. When she returns, she has a wet facecloth pressed to her forehead. She looks like the walking dead.

  “Headache?” I ask sweetly.

  She glares at me. “Why did you do that?”

  I
frown. “Do what?”

  “You know darn well what. The alarm clock.”

  I glance at the offending clock. “Oh, that. I guess I woke up early and forgot to turn it off. Sorry.”

  She lies down on the bed again and lays the cloth over her eyes.

  “Are you sure you should do that?” I say.

  “What?” she replies. Her voice is as lifeless as her body.

  “Lie down. You might fall asleep again.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Except that you might not wake up for a couple of days, and guests arrive in a couple of hours. It’s going to take you at least that long to get ready.”

  April lifts the facecloth long enough to glower at me.

  I sit down on my bed, and with the toe of my runner, I send a beer can rolling back to April’s side of the room. “For starters, you need to get rid of these beer cans and air out the cabin—you know, in case somebody lights a match or in case Gabe comes in.”

  “Why would he?”

  “Because he owns the place?” I clear my throat. “And you might want to think about having a shower and brushing your teeth. No offense, April, but you look like you spent the night in a garbage bin, and you smell like a brewery. Definitely not the image the camp is going for.”

  April props herself on an elbow and scowls. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  I cock my head curiously. “I’m just looking out for you.” I smile brightly. “That’s what friends do.”

  April starts to roll her eyes, but the effort obviously pains her because she gives it up and flops back down on the bed. “Go away,” she mutters. “You’re making me feel worse than I already do.”

  I stand up. “You know what you need? Food. You’ll feel much better with something in your stomach. Some greasy bacon and fried eggs should do the trick, I think. Nothing like a little bacon grease to jumpstart the day. Before you know it, you’ll feel like your old self. I bet you’ll be up to pulling more tricks on me by lunchtime. Heck, you may even want to do your witch impersonation again.” I stroll over to the door. “But then, that’s not really an impersonation, is it?”