The Camp (7 page)

“River rescue. We’re within 50 miles of the Rogue River. That makes river rescue skills a requirement. The community end is being available for the annual Illinois River Run. That would be day after tomorrow. Aside from that, we need to restock.”

He pursed his lips and frowned. “When were you going to tell me about this Illinois River thing?” Rye rolled onto his back with a harrumph. Claire rolled on top and pushed on his chest into a sitting position. “Tonight.” She clapped her hands twice and the lamp went out.

Chapter Eleven

The mattress was on the floor, the sheets were grimy, and Ed felt grungy. He needed a shower, clean clothes, and a smoke, and he was still pissed over Amy’s rejection the night before.

He pulled on a T-shirt that hung to his waist and figured he’d locate some clean pants later, but he couldn’t find his sandals. He hated walking through the house barefoot. He either ended up stubbing his toe or getting a splinter. He made his way the short distance down the hall to the bathroom and didn’t notice that the shower was running until he walked in. He looked from the corner of his eye fully expecting to see Frank. But the image behind the shower door didn’t match. He turned to get a better look.
 

The body in the shower was silhouetted by the window light. Back arched, head back, long hair falling straight down. Breasts pointed at the ceiling, the pelvis thrust out. Her hands were wringing out her hair.

Ed turned and walked out and down the hall to the kitchen where he found Frank looking sober and sitting in the only kitchen chair that wasn’t broken. “There’s a woman in the shower.”
 

Frank grinned. “I told you I was getting laid.”

Ed was dumbfounded. What would any woman see in Frank? “You’re kidding.”

He turned around at the sound of someone coming up behind him. “He is.”

The woman from the shower was wrapped chest to thighs in a beach towel with a second one incasing her hair. She stuck out a hand. “I’m Cindy.”

Suddenly remembering himself, he gripped her hand. “I’m underdressed.”

She looked down. “I can see that, and you are?”

“Ed Thomas.”

With what little dignity he retained, Ed stepped around her and headed back to the bathroom.

“Honestly, Frank. This house is a pigsty.”

She unwrapped her hair and shook it out. “That guy is supposed to be your pick-up man?”

Frank stood, walked over to the fridge, took out a beer, turned around, and leaned against the door. “He cleans up really well. Picked up a little fifteen-year-old but blew the test and started getting attached. Then, to make matters worse, he spouted off to her father and his friends about the business.”

Cindy blanched. “Talk him into coming up to the country store.” She turned toward the door then turned back. “Oh, and Frank? Stop telling everyone we’re sleeping together.”
 

Ed climbed out of the shower feeling like a new man. He rummaged around his closet until he found a clean shirt and some jeans without holes.

He walked up the hall hoping to meet Cindy, but stopped when he came to Frank’s room.

“What are you doing?”

Frank was stuffing clothes into a duffel bag. “What does it look like?” I’m packing.”

“I can see that. What I meant is, where are you going?”

Frank looked up at Ed, who was leaning against the door jam, but didn’t stop packing. “What did you think of Cindy?”

Ed grinned when he thought of her silhouette in the shower. “Once you’ve seen them naked…”

Frank cut him off. “Hey, dick brain. I mean, what did you think of her?” Ed was taken aback. This was the guy who claimed he was getting laid.

“Hell, how should I know? I guess she has a firm handshake.”

Frank stood and braced both hands on his lower back. “Could you work for her?”

Ed was immediately intrigued. “Doing what?”

 
“She owns a little country store on the edge of the Redwoods. Sells about everything. You’d be working the counter. The main thing is rafting. Can you swim?”

This was sounding better and better. “When would I have to let her know?”

Frank put on his best shocked face. “What, you’ve got to get your affairs in order? I know—it’s your girl friend, right?”

Ed made a weak protest.

“Unless she’s going to have your babies, I’d blow her off. Cindy’s deal includes room and board if you run the rafting end of things. Matter of fact, I’m supposed to call her tonight and we’d need to be up there tomorrow to start your training. First trip is down the Illinois River.”

Ed couldn’t believe his luck and was suspicious. If he hadn’t meet Cindy, he wouldn’t believe a word Frank said. “Can I call her?”

Frank fished around in his pants pockets, before finally pulling out a wrinkled business card and holding it out.

“The Little Country Store. Cindy James, owner. Cute.” Frank was back to stuffing the duffle bag and looked up. “Call the number on the other side after seven and be sure to ask for Cindy. Don’t leave a message ‘cause she’ll never get it.”

Tuesday was an early out day from school. Ed knew Amy’d go straight to the Dojo. He could meet her there. But he’d have to wait until she finished her lesson and pick her up when she was walking home.

“I’m going need your truck for a couple hours. “

Looking exasperated, Frank stopped his packing, fished a single key out of a pocket and tossed to Ed. “Be sure to gas it up.”

Amy had a green belt in Chinese Kenpo Karate and today was working defenses for front and rear chokes and hair grabs. She knew she was past due for her brown belt test and wondered if today’s training had anything to do with it.

She pushed through the double doors at the entrance of the studio and was surprised to find Claire sitting at the front desk.

“How you doing, Amy?”

The last time her aunt had greeted her like that in the Dojo, there was a surprise belt test.

“Fine. What’s up?”

“Don’t change. Were going to go through your entire orange and purple belt self-defense techniques. We’re shooting for reality here. If you had to use one of these on the street, you wouldn’t be wearing a Karate uniform or be barefoot. Meet me in the back room on the wrestling mat in fifteen minutes.”

Amy walked down the narrow little hall to the woman’s dressing room and stuffed her gym bag in one of the lockers, then emptied her pockets, removed her bracelet and earrings.

Out in the hall, she found herself behind a group of guys that seemed unsure of where they were going. “You guys lost?”

The one directly in front of her turned around. “We’re looking for the wrestling room.”

Maybe sensei had gotten her schedule wrong. “Straight ahead.”

When they filed in the room, Claire was standing in the middle of the mat. “All you guys against the far wall. Amy, I want you in the middle here.”

Then it began.

Bear hug from the front and rear. Push to the left shoulder then the right. Each time, it was someone different. Some took it easy on her, and others tried to take her down. There was no stand and face each other and wait for a cue. Claire called out the attack and pointed to one of the men standing against the wall. He would then walk over and attack.
 

She had faced everyone several times with different defenses—everyone but one guy. Claire called out ‘headlock’ and the biggest guy—the only one she hadn’t already defended herself against—closed in.

The defense for a headlock called for a strike to the groin with the left hand that would immediately come up and over the back to grab the assailant’s nose before pulling him over backwards. But she could see that it wasn’t going to work. He was at least six foot three and she was only five foot five.

He surprised her by slamming her shoulders and knocking her back. Every other attack had been to the letter. This was already different. Then, lunging to her right side, he hugged her head so tight that she could barley move. She tried to tuck her chin to her chest, but he shifted his weight so she couldn’t. Then he just kept moving. There was no clear shot to the groin, so she grabbed the upper inside of his thigh and squeezed and squeezed until she got a yelp and he released the grip on her head and neck.
 

She was staggering back when he came at her like a raging bull, pushing and shoving until he’d driven her up against the wall and began choking her with both hands.

With all her strength, she snaked her right arm up between his two hands until it was straight up and then drove it down on his left wrist, simultaneously pulling her right shoulder away from the wall and launching her right elbow at his face. With a sudden shout, he stepped back, seconds before the strike would have hit home.

Grinning like a banshee, Claire stepped between the two. But sometimes, the adrenaline rush created during practice spurred on reactions after the technique had been demonstrated.
 

Amy was the same size as her aunt and launched her full body at her attacker, both arms flying. One hand was in a hammer fist, while the other was in a tiger claw. Her attacker was looking on like a deer in headlights.
 

Claire was forced to subdue Amy with a choke, grabbing her right collar with her right hand and stepping to her left side, pulling her shirt across her throat. Amy recognized the move and immediately began to ratchet down, calming her breathing. She then took a single step back and bowed to her attacker and extended her hand. He cautiously took it and awkwardly returned the bow.

Amy moved back to the wall and slid down to the floor. Her hair was wringing wet and her ears were ringing, but she focused on her breathing as she watched her various opponents leave the room.

Claire walked over and sat next to her. “How far would you have taken that?”

Amy stared straight ahead. “As far as necessary, until he wasn’t standing. Until he no longer posed a threat.”

Reaching over, Claire gently pulled the fifteen-year-old’s face around by the chin. “You okay? I think you scared the shit out of that guy.” Then she got up and shut the door. “I’d like to ask you a delicate question.”

Amy’s mind raced. This didn’t sound like anything to do with the martial arts.

“So ask.”

Claire braced herself for an explosive reaction.

“Have you had sex?”

Amy stood and walked over to her instructor until they were eye to eye. “Do you and Uncle Rye have oral sex?”

Claire staggered back as though she’d been punched. This was not what she had expected.

“What?”

“None of my business, right? Well, my sexual activities are none of yours.”

“How very right you are.” Claire gave a long, slow bow. “You have my sincere apologies.”

Amy suddenly folded her arms across her chest. “My father put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“No, Amy. If your father knew, he’d kill me. Uncle Rye is trying to understand the sex trafficking thing that Ed brought up the other night. He thinks Ed might be right. My question did not come from your father and I really would be in your debt if you promised not to mention this to him.”

Amy spun around. “That fucker.”

Claire stepped up and spun her around by the shoulder. It wasn’t the word, it was whom it was addressed to. But when Claire saw Amy’s tears, she released her grip. “What is it?”

Amy blinked until her vision cleared. “It’s Ed. He’s a lying sack of shit, and doesn’t care about me at all, and I’m breaking it off.” She began folding and unfolding her arms while rocking back and forth.

Suddenly, bells and whistles went off. Claire grabbed her by the shoulders and locked eyes with her. “Did he hurt you, force himself on you?”

Amy realized she’d lit a powder keg.

“No, nothing like that, honest. It’s just that he confessed that he doesn’t have a job waiting for him in Vegas. He lives in a filthy wreck of a house and has a pervert for a roommate. That was enough for me.” She didn’t dare mention that the pervert roommate was always hitting on her.

Claire grabbed her in a deep hug then backed away. “Keep this in the back of your mind: you can always depend on me to be on your side.” Amy just nodded, took her instructor’s arm, and guided them both to the door.
 

“I love you, Aunt Claire, but I’m really pitted out and need to get home.”

“Of course you do.” Claire smiled and bowed. “We’ll discuss the results of your test during our next lesson.” She watched the young teen walk down the hall, wondering what can of worms she’d opened with her stupid question. But thinking of the response, her respect for Amy went up two notches. Focus. She still had one more class to teach.

Gym bag slung over her shoulder, Amy walked down the sidewalk, her mind filled with drunken monkeys. Should she have told her Aunt more about her sexual experiences? What would Ed do when she told him that she was breaking it off? Was that really a test today? Was it just an everyday test or was it a belt test? Her thoughts were interrupted by a short honk. When she looked up it was Ed, driving that pervert’s truck. He was wearing a big grin. Something was up.

“What do you want?”

“Could you stop for a minute? I have something to tell you.”

She turned and faced the road.

“I just got this really great job offer guiding rafts. I’ll be working at a place called the Little Country Store. I know this is sudden, but I just couldn’t turn it down.” Amy smiled which confused Ed. He had expected a scene.

“That’s great. I was going to break up with you anyway. Have a great life, Ed.”

Frustrated, he revved the little engine, called her a cold bitch, and tore away down the street.

Amy cried all the way home. She wouldn’t miss Ed and her feelings weren’t hurt by the name he called her. She cried for the stupid mistake she’d made by going around with him, scared by where it might have taken her.

Chapter Twelve

Ed walked up to the raft. It was just like the ones he had seen on reality TV shows—twenty feet long with a metal internal frame and massive oars. A man wearing a tight-fitting wetsuit walked up and extended a hand. “Layton Smeeds. I’m one of your guides.” Ed took the proffered hand. “Ed Thomas.”