Paddy Plays in Dead Mule Swamp

by Joan H. Young

  Sure enough, the seasonal road was labeled East South River Road, the same as the road I lived on. But I was pretty certain it didn’t connect with my piece. According to the map, however, it did go through to Mulberry Hill Road. That sounded interesting, so I nosed the Jeep past the warning sign and began to bump my way along beside the river. Except for a few large potholes the road wasn’t bad at all. Driving slowly was desirable anyway because every so often there was a break in the trees, and the river could be seen shining in the afternoon sun. A dark blue kingfisher swooped low as we passed one of those openings.

  The road became narrower and narrower. Soon, branches were occasionally brushing the sides of my vehicle. Paddy seemed to be enjoying the drive, if I could judge by his eagerness to sniff the air and poke his nose out of the window.

  “We have a Jeep,” I said to him. “We might as well keep going until we can’t get through.” The truth was, I was enjoying this adventure as much as Paddy. I’ve always liked knowing my local area, and I hadn’t had much time to explore Forest County yet. I hoped Mulberry Hill would be marked because I had forgotten to check the mileage when we turned onto South River Road. There were two-track vehicle paths leading into the woods every so often with no indication as to whether they were roads, driveways, or abandoned logging tracks.

  We crept along carefully, but the road didn’t get any worse. Finally, we passed an abandoned house on our left. The white paint was mostly gone, the front door was open, and one section of roof on an attached shed was collapsing. The lawn was grown up to weeds and small shrubs. In another tenth of a mile we reached a small turnaround at the river, separated from the water by a guardrail.

  “I think we missed our turn,” I said. “But let’s check this out.” I grabbed the map and walked with Paddy to the river’s edge. I slipped his leash over my wrist, thinking it wouldn’t be a good plan to let him go in the river. Clearly, South River Road used to go through. There were still two concrete bridge abutments in the middle of the river. I was a little confused, because I had already crossed the Petite Sauble River, back on Kirtland Road. So, had the road wandered north again and I hadn’t noticed, or where was I?

  The map quickly revealed that there was a small river, the Thorpe, coming in from the southwest and flowing into the Petite Sauble. I was only about two miles from my house, and could have driven right home if there were still a bridge. I could see a matching dirt road with a guardrail across the water and realized it had to be the seasonal road that continued beyond my place.

  I looked upstream on the Thorpe River, which was wide and straight in this section. The spreading, shallow water rippled over sandbars and around a few large rocks. Much to my amazement there was a bridge less than a half-mile away. With a shake of my head I looked at the map again, and saw that it was a railroad bridge. I’d been told the trains hadn’t run for years, but the bridge was still in place. I wondered if it was safe to walk across. There was a bit of a path along the river, but I suspected it had been made by fishermen rather than hikers.

  “I think there’s a nice walk in your future,” I told Paddy. “But let’s go home now.”

  This time I remembered to watch the mileage and easily found Mulberry Hill Road, which did, indeed, go up a steep hill. There were even two switchbacks before I reached the top, where I turned west on Shagbark. After exploring such an assortment of routes, I’d had enough adventuring for one day, and followed the map closely, taking good dirt roads till I reached my house.

  The construction crew was gone for the day. Not only were the trusses in place, but they were topped with a plywood roof covered with tarpaper, and a few rows of shingles stairstepped across the black underlayment. It really looked like a new house.

  Chapter 9

  The next day was Friday, and I wanted to get things cleaned up before Star and Sunny came on Saturday to bake cookies. The construction crew was also eager to eliminate the piles of building supplies in my yard, since rain was predicted for Sunday. As a result, they worked like maniacs that day, bringing in extra help to finish the shingles on the new roof. The upper floor was sheathed in plywood, and window sashes were fitted to the framing. By the time they left just before dark, the yard was nearly cleared and my new upper floor was somewhat weatherproof.

  I hauled the stepladder outside and stretched the cable I’d purchased at the pet store between two trees. I clipped the long lead to it so Paddy could have more freedom outside when I wasn’t with him.

  My plan was to pick up the girls the next day and take them first to the grocery store. That would allow me to observe them around other people. Although Adele served as the coordinator for the Family Friends program, her primary occupation was proprietor of Volger’s Grocery Store, so I called her to see if she would be working Saturday morning. When I told her I’d be shopping with Star and Sunny, she said she’d make it a priority to be in the store. Although she’d seen the girls around, she hadn’t actually met them.

  Saturday morning, I shut Paddy in his kennel crate. Even though I’d strung the cable run, I hadn’t tested its security to leave him for several hours. With a promise of friends to play with soon, I admonished Paddy to be good and headed for Hammer Bridge Town. Star and Sunny were waiting outside at the patio table with Len. Sunny was playing checkers with him while Star fiddled with Sunny’s hair. This was the second time I’d seen the girls together, and I realized that Star didn’t seem to show any of the typical teenage contempt for younger siblings or authority figures.

  When they saw me coming up the driveway, they waved with both arms and ran to meet me. Short shorts and t-shirts seemed to be their usual attire, as that’s what they both wore again today.

  “Where’s Paddy?” asked Sunny with a wail.

  “He’s home saving up his energy for you,” I teased.

  “Can I ride in front then?”

  “If you get the front seat now, I get it on the way home,” Star protested, putting her hands on her skinny hips and sticking out her tongue in mock argument.

  I glanced at their grandfather, and he seemed to be enjoying the girls’ bantering.

  “Good Morning, Len,” I said. “What time would you like me to bring them home? Is it OK if they eat lunch with me?”

  “Any time this afternoon is fine. We don’t have any other plans.”

  “We packed up some jeans so we can play with Paddy after we bake,” Star added, grabbing an overstuffed plastic bag off the table. In seconds the girls were in the car with seat belts buckled and ready to go.

  “We’ll have a great time.” I turned to Len. “We’re also going to the store. Is there anything you need?”

  “No, but thanks for asking,” he said. I wondered if he was just being polite.

  Once in the car, Sunny began chatting. She was clearly the more outgoing of the two. As we drove back along Sheep Ranch Road, she explained in a rapid stream of words that she was going into sixth grade in the fall, that she liked math and science best, and hoped Trevor Miller would be in most of her classes.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “He likes to solve math puzzles with me,” she said with a toss of her head and no apparent coyness that might indicate she had a crush on Trevor.

  When there was a slight break, I glanced back and asked Star what grade she was in.

  “I’ll be a sophomore,” she said. “I turn sixteen in August.”

  “She likes to read and read and sometimes write poems,” Sunny chimed in.

  I wondered how much Star liked having her little sister speak for her. I tried to catch Star’s eye, but couldn’t do it while driving.

  “I thought we’d go into town and get some things for lunch,” I said.

  “Carrots!” said Sunny.

  “Strawberries!” added Star at the same time.

  “Carrots and strawberries it is then,” I said with a laugh.

  We parked in the small lot beside Volger’s Grocery in Cherry Hill, walked around front and opened the crea
king screen door which was shaded by a large maple tree.

  “We don’t come here much,” said Star. “It’s closer for us to go to Waabishki to shop. We can even walk there if we have to.” I thought of her mother walking to town the last time she was seen but shook off the thoughts of that sad day.

  “I’d like you to meet Mrs. Volger,” I said, seeing Adele coming out of her office. “She owns this store.”

  Adele’s short gray curls were just loose enough to bounce a bit when she walked, and although she was no longer slim, her appearance was motherly rather than stout. She wore a green apron printed with the store name over black slacks and a polo shirt. Adele likes to know what is happening with everyone, and I was sure she’d been keeping an eye out for us.

  “A lady owns the grocery?” Sunny asked. She sounded awed.

  “Don’t be rude,” hissed Star.

  After introductions were made, Adele gave each girl a pack of gum and invited them to Youth Group at the church. “We just have games and snacks, and a short devotional,” she explained. “It’s Sunday evenings at six.”

  “We don’t have any way to get there,” Star said. “I don’t even get my learner’s permit until this fall, and Grandpa can only drive when it’s really important. His back hurts too much when he tries to sit up straight.”

  “We’ll try to work something out if you’d like to come,” Adele offered.

  Sunny looked eager but waited to see what Star had to say. “We’ll ask Grandpa,” the teenager said. Apparently neither girl was confident of making commitments without permission.

  As we shopped, I learned that the girls loved fresh fruits and vegetables. Even though they were poor, their diet of choice wasn’t loaded with carbohydrates and sugar. They told me that when their grandmother was alive she had shopped often and fixed healthy meals. They both said they missed that kind of food, as well as cooking with their grandma. We loaded up a cart with produce for a big salad, including strawberries and some other fruits. They agreed they wanted to make chocolate chip cookies. I knew I had the basic ingredients, but we added a large bag of chocolate morsels to the basket.

  By the time we reached my house it was nearly noon.

  “You built a new house?” asked Sunny as we pulled into the yard.

  “It looks like it,” I agreed. “But I only added an upstairs to that one section.”

  “I wish we had that much space,” said Star with a sigh. It was the first time I’d heard her say anything that sounded a little envious of having a better life.

  As we entered the house, Paddy lifted his head, thumped his tail and opened his mouth in a huge yawn. Both girls ran to his cage.

  “You can let him out,” I said. “In fact, you had better take him right outside. But come back in quickly. We’ll eat lunch first, I think. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” the girls chorused loudly, and raced for the door with Paddy loping behind them.

  From the kitchen window I watched them play with the pup. They had forgotten to put on their long pants, but they seemed adept at keeping away from the dog’s toenails, dancing around him and teasing him with a stick. Paddy got tired of lunging for a stick he couldn’t get, and brought a yellow tennis ball to Sunny. She tossed it to Star. Of course, Paddy raced toward the older girl, who threw the ball to Sunny. The girls seemed completely at ease with the dog. While they played keepaway, I tore up lettuce and washed the other vegetables and fruits we’d bought.

  I opened the kitchen door to let in some air, and soon the three playmates tumbled into the kitchen, laughing and shoving each other.

  “We can help,” Star said, suddenly looking a little bit ashamed.

  “OK,” I said. “Thanks for giving Paddy some exercise. He needed that.” Star looked relieved. She was clearly a little more wary of her relationship with me than Sunny. “There are dishes in that cupboard, and you can pour some drinks. I have lemonade, milk or water; I hope those are all right. I didn’t think to get any soda pop. Sunny, the silverware is in that drawer.” I pointed to the left of the sink.

  “Lemonade is good. I’ll have milk later with the cookies,” said Sunny, heading for the silverware.

  “Wash up first, please,” I added.

  Within a few minutes we sat down to a lunch of salad, fruits, and some rolls I’d bought earlier in the week. It seemed light, but I knew we’d be filling up with cookies soon. Paddy lay under the table, his nose resting on Sunny’s foot.

  After eating, we stacked up the dishes and got out the baking utensils. Star measured the shortening, and Sunny scooped up the brown sugar.

  “We used to bake with Grandma,” began Star.

  “We still bake things, but it’s not as much fun as it used to be,” Sunny finished.

  “It’s more like work, now that we’re doing most of the cooking,” Star admitted.

  “You have a nice big kitchen. It’s fun to do it here,” Sunny said as she creamed the moist ingredients together. The girls didn’t squabble over who got to do which part of the task at all. Clearly, they had been working as a team for a long time. I looked around at my bargain appliances and old wallpaper. Although I’d bought a stove and refrigerator, I’d postponed the kitchen remodeling in favor of the new upstairs. But seeing it through the eyes of these girls who lived in a small trailer, I realized how grand it really was.

  Before long we had rows of warm chocolate chip cookies cooling on a rack, and we’d each swiped more than one finger-full of raw dough. There was lots of giggling involved. I hadn’t raised any girls. My only child, Chad, had baked with me when he was small, but cooking with two girls was definitely different from that experience.

  “Let’s take Paddy outside again before we have cookies. May we do that, Miss Ana?” asked Sunny.

  “Sure,” I said. “He’d like that. There’s a path over that way, if you’d like to take him for a walk.” I pointed in the direction of the trail into the swamp.

  “I’m going to change,” said Star. “The bugs might be thicker in the woods.”

  “You can use my bedroom,” I said, pointing to the stairs. “There’s more room than in the bathroom.”

  The girls rushed to switch to jeans and then hurried out the door with the dog. They ran down the path into the swamp so quickly I forgot to tell them to take his leash. I wasn’t very worried though. He always stayed near me on our walks and that trail only led, eventually, to the seasonal road. There certainly wasn’t any dangerous traffic.

  As I watched them disappear around the first bend, I contemplated how I might help these girls. Should I ask them how they felt about their mother? Neither of them had brought up the topic yet. Maybe talking about their grandmother’s death was a better idea. It was more recent, as was the loss of their dog. They clearly adored Paddy, and must miss—what was her name?—Gracie, very much.

  I began to wash up from lunch and baking, and mulled over more possible ways Family Friends might be able to help without seeming to be patronizing. Maybe the church could make sure they had more chances to buy fresh foods. Maybe we could get them a better refrigerator. I hadn’t yet been inside their trailer, but it didn’t look as if anything was in very good shape, judging from the outside. However, the family obviously had a lot of pride and might not want to accept large gifts.

  It was refreshing to see how happy and self-contained Sunny and Star seemed to be, but I was also sure they didn’t have many chances to spend time with other kids. I had no idea what their finances were, and I wondered if the girls would have any new clothes to start the next school year.

  As I was putting away the dried dishes, my eyes darted to the window when the sounds of yelling drifted through the open door. The dog was running into the yard with something long and white in his mouth. The ends were covered in mud, and so was he. Both girls ran after him, screaming and trying to catch him, but it was Paddy’s turn to play keepaway.

  “Give that to me,” demanded Star. I moved to the door and opened the screen.

&n
bsp; Sunny looked at me and yelled, “He’s got a big bone!”

  Chapter 10

  Paddy trotted up to the stoop and dropped the whitened object at my feet. Star caught up and grabbed the dog’s collar.

  “Get the hose and wash him down,” I said, taking hold of Paddy myself. “Sunny, that old blanket is still on the front porch.” I hadn’t washed it yet, but that wouldn’t matter since it was about to get even dirtier.

  Star unwound the hose from where it hung by the kitchen door and began spraying the dog, and I was getting pretty wet myself. Water dripped everywhere; Paddy shook and made it worse, but then Sunny appeared and wrapped the dog in the old blanket. Star began to laugh.

  “Come look at your big scary bone,” she said to Sunny, between chuckles.

  We looked at the thing Paddy had dropped, which had also been washed by all the water flying around. It was, indeed, a long bone, but attached firmly to one end was a deer hoof.

  Sunny’s bottom lip stuck out and she said with a flounce, “Well, I couldn’t tell it was just an old deer leg. There might be dead bodies in that Dead Mule Swamp. Nobody would ever find them. Nobody ever found the dead mule, did they?”

  Star put her finger over the open nozzle of the hose to make a fine spray and aimed it at Sunny. The younger girl sputtered and launched herself at Star, causing the teen to sit down hard in what was now a very wet spot in the grass. She dropped the hose, which began to hop around from the water pressure and spray everything in sight. However, the day was hot enough that no one seemed to mind getting wet, and before I succeeded in catching the end of the hose we were all soaked and giggling.

  “OK,” I said. “We better get cleaned up and eat some cookies. Clip Paddy on his new line over there so he can dry off.”

  We stripped our wet sneakers and socks, left them outside, and then all went upstairs to change. I loaned the girls some dry t-shirts and they put on their shorts again. The shirts were too big on both of them, but they didn’t seem to care. Sunny impulsively gave me a little hug after she slipped into the Michigan Tech shirt I handed her. It hung below her shorts like a dress.