Paddy Plays in Dead Mule Swamp

by Joan H. Young

  “Hello, I’m Madison and I’ll be your waitress. What would you like to drink?” the young voice broke through my thoughts.

  I smiled at the girl, barely older than Star. “Just water for now, thanks.”

  “Do you need a menu?” she asked with a cracking of gum.

  “Yes,” I answered. Something made me add, “Is Paula here today?”

  “Yup, she’s in the back. I’ll see if she can come out. Today’s special is ham and cheese on rye with two sides of your choice.”

  The girl laid a large card encased in plastic in front of me, turned on a heel, and with more annoying gum-cracking, headed for another table.

  In a few minutes, she was back, with a glass of water, and order pad in hand. “Have you decided?”

  “I’ll have the special,” I said, “with cottage cheese and a salad. Thousand Island dressing, please.”

  “American or provolone?”

  “Provolone.”

  “Mustard and mayo?”

  “Yes.”

  “That it?”

  “All set for now.”

  Madison took off on her rounds again, and a woman who was about my age approached the table, carrying two glasses of brown liquid. She wore a bibbed apron over jeans and a t-shirt. Her short salt-and-pepper hair was brushed into a spiky do above a red face. She had a frank and open look and a wide mouth, pulled into a genial smile. She didn’t look at all irritated to be called out of the kitchen, and she slid into the other side of the booth.

  “Hi I’m Paula Wentworth. I hear you want to talk to me. Have some iced tea on the house.” She pushed one of the glasses toward me.

  “Thanks. And thanks for talking with me. I’m Ana Raven, from Cherry Hill. I have to confess I’m a bit at a loss for words. I asked if you were here on something of a whim.”

  Paula laughed. “Works for me. I was ready for a break. It’s beastly hot in the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. What’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve only lived in the area for a few months and haven’t been here before today.”

  “If I can make a regular customer of you, I’ll count it as work and take an extra break later.” She grinned. “In reality, the boss never gets to take a break.”

  I took a sip of the tea. It tasted freshly brewed and refreshing and gave me courage to plow into a topic that was barely my business. “This morning I met the Leonards,” I began.

  “Ah,” said Paula with a knowing look. “The disappearance of Angelica.”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s your interest?”

  While Paula drank tea and fanned her face with the menu card that Madison had left on the table, I explained about the Family Friends program and how I was likely to be seeing a lot more of Star and Sunny. I told her that having more background might help me understand them better.

  “Sunny probably doesn’t even remember,” Paula mused. “I haven’t seen them in years. The Leonards don’t eat out much. And they sure don’t come here. I suppose it’s too painful. Star must be in high school by now.”

  “Corliss said she’ll be taking Driver’s Ed in the fall.”

  “Corliss? Oh, you mean Len. Amazing! Well. There was lots of speculation and dirt in the papers, but I only know a little bit about it all, personally. Angelica and I were friends, even though she was younger. She was the same age as my baby brother, Frank. He’s close to three-hundred pounds now, but back then he was fit. Played football. Frank and DuWayne were buddies, they both liked football so much, and she would spend time at our house so she could see DuWayne.”

  “Did her parents object?” I asked.

  “Not that he was black, but they didn’t like how much time they were spending together. And then she got pregnant. That wasn’t part of anybody’s plan.”

  “I was afraid it was something like that.”

  “She finished school. I’ll give her credit. DuWayne was mostly a mooch, but Len got him a job at Forest Tech. DuWayne made enough to buy a trailer in that sorry mess they call Hammer Bridge Town, and they tried to turn it into some kind of home. They did care about each other a lot. It wasn’t just a high school crush.”

  “So DuWayne is the father of both girls?”

  “Absolutely! They looked like two peas in a pod in their baby pictures.”

  “They still look a lot alike.” I smiled at Paula, but I could tell she wanted to get on with the story. Madison brought my lunch.

  “Would you like something, Miss Wentworth?” she asked with a bit too much attitude.

  “I’m good, Madison. Thanks.” Paula turned back to me. “Anyway, DuWayne managed to keep the job for more than a year. That was a bit of a surprise. But then he quit, and they got by on odd jobs and handouts from Len and Becky. Things were pretty tight for a few years. Then there was a big change.”

  My mouth was full of ham and rye, but I raised my eyebrows in question. Paula took another drink before continuing.

  “Suddenly, they had plenty of money. They didn’t move into a better place or anything, but they bought a new TV, and a truck, and a lot of other stuff...”

  I swallowed. “Oh no! Drugs?”

  “I think so. But that wasn’t my scene, and Frank was gone in the Army, so I didn’t see DuWayne and Angelica much during that time. Then Sunny came along, and things got better and worse.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She never said so, but my opinion is that Angelica got pregnant in hopes of convincing DuWayne that his family was more important than illegal activities. I don’t think they were personally using anything hard, but probably pot and maybe some pills. So, her plan worked. DuWayne must have given up dealing because they quit buying extra things. But after a while any money they had stashed away was obviously gone.”

  “That seems like a strange way to get someone off drugs.”

  “I know. It sounds lame, but DuWayne really loved babies. So, that’s what I think. They went back to limping along on odd jobs. That’s about where they were when Angelica asked me if I needed some help here.”

  “And you said, ‘yes?’”

  “I told her to come in and we’d talk. It wasn’t going to be a free ride. I interview everyone, even if they’re only going to bus tables.”

  “And that brings us to the day she disappeared?”

  “There we are.” Paula’s gaze roamed over the dining room. “I need to get back to work, but it’s been nice to meet you. Stop in again. I’d like to know how those babies are doing.”

  “Some babies!” I said. “Maybe I’ll bring them here for a treat.”

  “That might work. But you should make sure they feel all right about coming, first. Star was old enough when it happened to have plenty of memories of her mother.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I promised. But I was already talking to Paula’s back. She was striding toward a brewing confrontation between a customer and Madison at the cash register.

  Chapter 7

  The fuss seemed to be about the price of an item on the man’s check, but Paula just smiled and told Madison to ring up the lower charge. I wiped my mouth with the paper napkin and glanced out the window. I’d completely forgotten to keep my eye on the car and the dog, although I had saved him a small bit of sandwich.

  Paddy was poking his nose out of the window and scratching at it. His tongue was hanging from one side of his mouth. Suddenly, I felt very guilty at being such an inexperienced dog owner. Without wasting another minute, I headed for the register.

  “How was everything?” Madison asked apprehensively.

  “Just fine. Could I have some water to go, and maybe some kind of plastic dish? My dog is in the car, and I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything for him to drink.”

  She quickly brought some water in a plastic cup with a styrofoam soup bowl inverted over the top. I paid my tab, and hurried to the car. Gallon jug of water and a dish, I added to my mental list. It only took a minute to unlock the car and Paddy jumped out so fast I
couldn’t catch his leash. But it was all right, because he was only interested in the water, which he lapped up as fast as I could pour it into the small bowl. I easily picked up the end of the leash, and took him for a short walk under the trees at the back of the parking lot. Plastic bags for dog-doo duty, I mused. I’d need a crate to store all this stuff; it was as bad as having an infant.

  I knew from seeing their ads in the Cherry Hill Herald that there was a good-sized pet store in Emily City. I decided this was going to be my next stop. Paddy seemed ready to forgive me for letting him get thirsty, since he jumped back in the car with no hesitation. We drove on down the street. Sheep Ranch Road had become 14-Mile Road as soon as we entered Sturgeon County, and then had changed into Main Street at the Waabishki city limit. That seemed to just continue and blend into Emily City with a few box stores and fast food places strung along the way. I easily spotted Fur and Fins on the left and pulled into their spacious parking lot. There was no place in the shade at all. I wondered if the pet store allowed pets, and decided to give it a try.

  Paddy was obviously happy to be invited to go with me this time, and we approached the glass doors which slid quietly to the sides. Immediately I was greeted by a cheerful young man.

  “Welcome! Bring your dog right in. We always like to meet our customers.” He bent to give Paddy a pat on the head. “Sit.”

  Paddy sat. I was impressed. He didn’t always pay attention to me when I gave him commands. The man gave Paddy a small treat.

  “His name’s Paddy,” I offered.

  “Shake, Paddy. My name’s Brad.”

  Paddy grinned and thumped his tail on the floor. The young man lifted Paddy’s paw and shook it, then gave him another tidbit. After two more tries, Paddy had the game down pat. The man turned to me.

  “Since we can’t usually get the customers to speak English, even when they are as intelligent as Paddy, I’ll have to ask you what he would like today.”

  I admitted I was nearly clueless about dog care. The truth is we had owned a cockapoo when my son, Chad, was small, but I’d never dealt with a large dog in my life. Chad was now a junior at Michigan Tech, but was spending the summer on Isle Royale.

  “Since I’m going to have to take him with me a lot, I need all kinds of things to keep in the car,” I said. Paddy, Brad and I walked the aisles and filled a basket. I was intrigued to discover that there were collapsible water bowls made of treated fabric that wouldn’t take up a lot of room. A dispenser for plastic bags that fastened on the leash looked very handy. I bought cable and a lead to set up an outside line run. Of course I couldn’t resist a couple more toys. Brad suggested ones that would withstand the chewing power of a large dog, and when he cocked his head and held out a book called Training Your Large Puppy, I nodded, and it was added to the basket. Two bags of small training treats went in next, and Brad carried a fifty-pound bag of food to the checkout for me.

  While I was pulling out my wallet, I noticed a sign on the counter, “Dog-sitting while you shop - $8 an hour.”

  “Really?” I asked. Rather a silly question, since they wouldn’t post a sign for a service they didn’t offer.

  “Sure. We have a big grassy area in back, all fenced, with a couple of kennels if we get visitors that don’t want to play nicely with each other. It not only helps you, but it’s good for socializing the dogs, too.”

  “Do I need an appointment?”

  “Nope. It’s strictly a drop-off service. Of course you have to pick the dog up before we close at eight p.m.”

  “I’d just like time to go to the fabric store.”

  “We can do that. You need to fill out this form,” Brad said, reaching around me beneath the counter. “Abby can help you now. She’ll check his tag for a current rabies shot,” he added, turning me over to the woman running the cash register.

  In a few minutes I had pre-paid for an hour of dog-sitting, and was about $80.00 poorer all together, but feeling much better about doing the other errand I hoped to complete. It was a relief to me that the dog seemed happy to go with almost anyone who would pay attention to him. I stroked Paddy’s red head, looked deep into his brown eyes and told him I’d be back soon. His standard answer was a lick and a tail wag, after which he let Brad lead him toward the back door.

  I asked for directions to a fabric store, and fortunately Abby knew exactly how to get to one. After my purchases were stowed in the Jeep, I drove away and found the store with no trouble. Most of my hour of freedom was spent wandering between racks of fabric bolts, feeling the material. There were a couple of shades of blue that I liked, and I held them against a barn-red colonial print to see how they would look together. There was some gauzy white material that might look nice with those choices, too. However, I finally realized that I didn’t have a good enough idea, yet, to make a decision about the kind of curtains or drapes I wanted. Still, it was fun looking and getting ideas.

  I returned for Paddy just before my hour was up. He was as happy to see me as he had been to go with Brad, so apparently I hadn’t slipped a notch in his estimation. But it was only three-fifteen. I still needed to kill some time before returning home. It was Thursday, and the construction crew would be working only one more day before the weekend, but I had already heard all the hammering I needed for the week. Also, I wasn’t eager to spend the rest of that day inside the house with a large machine swinging its arm around the windows and over my head as it lifted trusses.

  “Let’s explore the long way home,” I said to Paddy, as I opened the front door of the Jeep for him. He jumped in and turned so he could look out the window even before I was able to shut the door.

  Chapter 8

  I’d begun keeping a Forest County map in the car. Although many of the county roads are in grids of a mile square, there are quite a few that aren’t. Rather than bisecting farms these wandering roads often follow waterways or meander through cool green forests. Also, some roads seem to be through routes, but often they are in non-contiguous segments, with long breaks across swamps or hills where no road has been built. And there are so many rivers and creeks crossing the area that one can never be sure the road you want has a bridge. It was good to be able to check the map. Some of the time it was even correct.

  The easy part was to return to Kirtland Road and drive south until I crossed the Petite Sauble River. Then I only had to explore westward until I connected with the roads south of my house, or until I bumped into Centerline. If I got that far west, I could just turn north and go home the familiar way.

  “Want to play a game?” I asked Paddy. He didn’t say no. “Let’s just take the first road west after the river and see where it takes us.”

  That corner was marked Turtle Dam Road. I was pretty sure I knew where that road led because Turtle Lake is the largest lake in the state forest, and is hard to miss when you even glance at the map. The road was paved and we followed it all the way to where it ended at an expanded turnaround beside the dam, with parking. Several official-looking buildings dotted the neat lawns, and I noted a number of trucks and cars in the parking lot. I saw signs indicating where a foot trail began, and although I wasn’t dressed for outdoor activities, I parked, and Paddy began to whine and wiggle.

  “Yes, we’ll take a short walk,” I agreed as I opened the car door.

  The dog tugged on his leash and headed toward some people who were clustered near the edge of the parking area. When we reached that spot, I saw it was an overlook above the water. Turtle Lake, with two large islands and several small ones, spread to the northeast. Behind the dam, alongside the lake, was a large grassy lawn with picnic tables, grills, pavilions, a swimming beach and restrooms. A paved trail wound through the area, and I could see camping trailers and tents beyond that. Apparently I’d stumbled onto the main recreation facility.

  “This will be a great place to bring Star and Sunny,” I told Paddy.

  Just then two kayaks, one red and the other a bright yellow, came into view around the corner of an isl
and.

  “What fun!” I said. A man next to me turned and looked around to see whom I was addressing. He must have decided he was the one.

  “You can rent canoes and kayaks from the north side of the lake,” he said. “It would be a lot more convenient if the rentals were here by the camping and picnic areas, but that’s the state for you. People like to canoe to the islands.”

  “Thanks for the information,” I answered. “I know some girls who might really enjoy learning to paddle.”

  “Get ‘em while they’re young,” he added, and walked away.

  We stood there a while longer. I watched the kayakers, and Paddy seemed content for a few minutes. When he began to whine I walked him across the dam and found a kiosk with a map showing a large network of foot trails in the forest.

  “Not today, Paddy,” I said. “You’ve always got your hiking shoes on, but I sure don’t. Let’s see if we can find our way home.”

  Since the dam road was a dead end, I drove back east until I found a road that went to the south. There was no sign on the corner, but the dirt road looked graded and smooth. In a mile I found another unmarked road going west and took that. It ran straight for a mile and turned back to the north. There was no other choice, but it wasn’t signed “No Outlet” so I took the corner. It ended abruptly at the river. To my left a track marked “Seasonal - Road Not Plowed in Winter” wound its way along the riverbank. It was smooth dirt, but not as wide as the road I was on. I pulled out the map.