Far Country (7 page)

When
he woke up, sunlight filtered through the small window over the sink and
Deborah was busily scrubbing his kitchen countertops. Pete was gently shaking
his arm. The room smelled of hot bacon, eggs and toast.

Pete’s
voice, filled with concern, called his name. Finally, Steve blinked his eyes
open. He tried to sit up, but Pete stopped him. “You must have slipped and
fallen last night,” Pete explained.  “Don’t move quickly. Do you think you
hit your head again?”

           
Slipped?
Steve blinked, chagrinned
that once more he was being rescued by the very friends that he most wanted to
avoid. He felt confused
. Why did they keep coming back? Why did they keep
trying to get closer, when he so clearly had tried to drive them away?

And
now this! Pete said he must have slipped. No more explanation needed. He took a
deep breath, accepting that these two were not about to allow Steve to cut them
out of his life for now, so why keep fighting it?

           
“I’m okay,” he said at last.  “Help me up.”

Pete
took his arm and helped him back to the couch as if he were truly an invalid,
and for the moment, Steve supposed he was.  When Deb placed the hot plate
of eggs and bacon in front of him, he forced himself to flash her a weak smile
of thanks. 

The
meal was good, and suddenly Steve was ravenous. Pete and Deb ate with him,
their voices soft in deference to his aching head. At last, Steve put his plate
down and sighed in contentment.

He
looked from Deborah to Pete, wanting to say something, but too embarrassed to
bring the subject up. At last he plunged in. “About the stuff that happened in
the emergency room,” he began hesitantly.  He looked from one person to
the other. Pete and Deborah sat quietly, waiting for him to finish his thought.
Deborah seemed to smile in encouragement.

Steve
cleared his throat.  “I know that I was acting pretty bizarre for awhile.
I just want to apologize. I guess you two have some good stories to share now
-”

Pete
sat forward with a frown on his face. “Wait a minute. Is that what this has
been about?” He asked.  “Steve, what happened is no one’s business but
your own.  Deborah explained a little of what happened to me, but I hope
you know that we would never talk about it to anyone else.”

Steve
sat in stunned silence for a moment. “I – did worry,” he admitted. “Last time,
well, the gossip never stopped. To deal with that again…” Steve shook his head,
his eyes haunted.

Deborah
stood up. She wasn’t smiling any more.  “Steve, I think you can see that
Pete and I are trying to be your friend, even though you are not making it very
easy. I do have some idea what losing Sarah and David did to you, and I can
understand that you feel that you have a reason for  believing that
friends can't be trusted.  Pete and I will keep your secrets, because we
know how badly you were hurt then.” She paused a moment, then added. “But what
happened at the hospital shows that you are still hurt. Running away didn’t
make it go away.  Someday, you will have to deal with what happened.”

Steve
greeted her speech with stony silence. He didn’t particularly like being
lectured, and there was enough truth in her words to make him uncomfortable.

When
he didn’t answer, Deborah began clearing away the plates, carefully not looking
at him. She went to the kitchen and quickly washed up. Plates and cups clanked
noisily as she voiced her frustration through her task. Pete remained sitting
across from Steve, his head bowed.  Eventually he looked up and caught
Steve’s sullen eyes. He gave Steve a sad half smile. “Give it up, man. 
She likes you – a lot.  No way are you going to out stubborn her.”

 Deborah
walked back into the room and glared at Pete.  “Time to go or we will be
late for work.”  Pete nodded. He stood up and headed for the door. 

Deborah
turned to Steve at last. “Chuck said he was bringing you a pizza for
lunch.  We will be back around six with dinner. You like Chinese?” Her green
eyes dared him to say no.

Nonplussed,
Steve nodded slowly.

Deborah
allowed herself to relax slightly, and rewarded him with a smile.  “See
you tonight then.”

Steve
managed a faint “Thanks,” as she pulled the door shut behind her. He stared at the
door for some time. 
What had he gotten himself into?

           
Events Coordinato
r.  Steve ground his teeth and sighed.  It
had been two weeks since he had smashed his head on the rocks, and he was being
allowed back on light duty only.  That meant mostly manning the park’s
information center, or working concessions and bath house.  In
his
opinion, it was hardly worth getting out of bed for!

           
The most insipid assignment of all was Events Coordinator.  Arranging for
various programs, setting up, attending,
teaching
programs, and finally,
assessing the success of each program offered. Programs on indigenous snakes
and reptiles, owl walks, plant studies, rappelling 101, history of the
Sauroton
Mountain range, as well as pottery, woodcarving,
local music and the occasional preacher, were all under his purview. 
Steve sighed. This would be a long
, long
, summer.

           
He checked his watch with an even longer sigh.
Time to go greet the new Camp
Host and Hostess
.  Each year a couple set up in the first site coming
into the camp ground and assisted the campers when the rangers were not
available. The couple who had worked at Hanging Rock the last three summers had
left after only three weeks, due to the premature birth of their first
grandchild.  The new couple should be arriving momentarily. Steve would
help them set up their RV, if necessary, and take them on a tour of the camp
sites, lake, and Visitor’s Center.

           
Steve slouched out of the Visitor’s Center and climbed into the truck.  He
crossed the road that led to the lake, drove slowly up the hill to the
campsites, and braked in surprise. The new couple appeared to have already
arrived!  At the top of the circle, a huge RV was already backed into
place at the Host site, and an older woman was busy straightening the support
poles for the awning.  A couple of red geraniums in painted pots bloomed
by the door as if they had been there all summer.  The picnic table was
spread with a red gingham table cloth, and another potted red geranium sprouted
jauntily in the center of the table.

           
Steve studied the woman as he pulled up. She appeared to be in her early
fifties, with shoulder length hair pulled back at the nape of her neck with a
green ribbon. Once it had been a fiery red, but now it was liberally shot with
gray strands. It wasn’t until she bent over and lifted a large box that Steve
remembered himself.  He hastily pushed open the truck door and hurried up
to her.

           
“Here, I’ll take that,” he said firmly, reaching for the box. The woman looked
up at him from vivid green eyes and smiled a smile that was disconcertingly
familiar.

           
“I’m Steve Williams, the Events Coordinator,” he introduced himself as he
hefted the surprisingly heavy box.  “I’ll be your liaison this
summer.”  He plopped the box down on the table and turned back to shake
her hand.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you when you arrived. 
You weren’t expected until after 9:00.”

           
The woman’s hand was firm and strong as she gripped his. Her smile was warm and
welcoming.

           
“Hester Graham, Steve.  A pleasure to finally meet you after all these
years!  And no matter about not being here to welcome us,” she added. “We
slipped in early to see our daughter. She’s been helping us set up.”

           
Steve frowned in confusion.  “
after all these years?”
  What
could she possibly mean?
And
what
daughter
?

           
Mrs. Graham tilted her head at his obvious confusion and put her hands on her
hips.  “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

           
“W-who?”

           
Mrs. Graham shook her head.  “Deborah, of course. The brat! Well, perhaps
she meant to keep her relationship to us a deep dark secret. Having your
parents hosting at your place of employment
is
probably rather
embarrassing…”

           
On cue, Deborah stepped out of the door carrying strings of lights, shaped like
little sombreros and chili peppers.  “Steve!” She smiled happily at him, and
suddenly Steve knew why Hester Graham’s eyes and smile had felt so familiar.
Deborah was merely a younger version of her mother. 

           
Deb handed Steve a section of the light strings, and motioned with her head to
start hanging the strand around the awning that her mother had just finished
setting up.  Steve shook his head to clear his momentary surprise. Looking
up, he spotted the neatly spaced Velcro hooks on his side, and began stretching
the lights from hook to hook.

 “I
heard you, mother, and no, I am not ashamed
or
embarrassed to have you
and Daddy here,” Deborah said over her shoulder. “I just have not seen much of
Steve since he went back to work this week.” Deborah examined Steve’s handiwork
and shook her head.  “Not so tight,” she directed him. “Loop them like
this,” she said, pointing to her own section.

 “He’s
pretty much stuck at the Visitor’s Center, these days, and I don’t get
over                                    
there much,” she added, resuming the conversation now that Steve was trained on
the proper hanging of party lights.

           
“Stuck is right,” Steve muttered. “They won’t let me do much of anything since
I hit my head. I’m surprised they didn’t just stand me up as mannequin in one
of the display scenes in the Interpretive Museum.  Then I’d be even
further protected with a Plexiglas wall!”

           
“Sounds like you’re a little bit impatient with the recovery process,” Mrs.
Graham said, with an understanding smile.

           
Steve blushed, realizing that he had been complaining in front of Deborah’s
mother. “So, where is your husband, Mrs. Graham?” He asked to change the
subject.  “Surely he didn’t leave you to set up camp alone?”

           
Mrs. Graham’s eyes twinkled and she put a finger to her lips.  “
Shhhh
,” she admonished.  He always muddles my lights
and breaks the flower pots.  I deliberately forgot the ice and sent him
back to town for it. I expect he will be back in a few minutes.”

           
“I’m looking forward to meeting him and to showing the two of you around the
camp grounds,” Steve said conversationally.

           
Mrs. Graham studied him for a few moments with a growing look of concern. “You
don’t know who he is either, do you?” She said softly.

           
Steve glanced back at the picnic table where she sat, and shook his head. “I
don’t think so.”  He looked from Mrs. Graham, to Deborah, who now stood
staring at him with a stricken look on her face. He frowned.  “What is
it?” He asked, foreboding growing in his mind suddenly.

           
Deborah took a deep breath. “My father is Reverend Robert Graham,” she said
quickly. “He was the pastor that counseled you right after the accident.”

           
Steve felt himself grow pale.  He took a deep breath and willed his hands
not to shake. Deborah was watching him as if she expected him to fall apart,
like he had at the hospital. 

 “I
saw the name,” he replied at last, “but I never made the connection.” He
deliberately hooked on the next section of lights, turning his back to the
women.  “I take it that he has retired, then?” He said over his shoulder.

           
“Semi-retired.” Mrs. Graham said matter-of-factly.  “Robert still preaches
at his church part time but he has an associate pastor who has taken over many
of the duties.  That’s how we can get away for a whole summer. Robert was
quite pleased when Deborah told us that you were here. He has been looking
forward to seeing you again, Steve.”

           
Steve smiled woodenly. “Really? I wasn’t very pleasant company back then. 
I would have thought that he would be dreading the reunion.”

           
Mrs. Graham smiled that understanding smile again.  Steve ground his
teeth.

           
“On the contrary!  He has often wondered what became of you. I know he
will be pleased to see what a pleasant young man you have turned out to be.”

           
“That’s most kind of you,” Steve managed, trying to ignore the flickers of
agitation that were clamping around his chest.  First Deborah, and how her
father!  Instead of escaping from his past, he suddenly felt cornered by
it.  Even the concussion and the insane incident at the hospital – all he
needed now was for David and the Bolton family to pull up at a campsite and
start roasting marshmallows!  Again he ground his teeth unconsciously. It
was all too crazy!  Already he felt the stirrings of a headache, and it
wasn’t even 10:00 in the morning. This would be an endless day, and possibly,
he reflected glumly, an endless summer.