Chapter 80

John drove up into a broader valley. He drove past a steel gate leading to a private cabin association and up to a public camp ground. He parked and prepared his fishing gear, then made his way down to the stream. Fighting the scrub oak that had inundated the lovely valley. When John had first visited the valley as a boy, there was only a small patch of it at one end. The rest was open grassed meadow. Had he known then what the scrub oak would do, he would have happily taken a chain and a truck to it. But he had been too young to drive then.

“Twenty-twenty hindsight.” He mumbled to himself, fighting his way to the stream.

The extra foliage also kept the water from draining. Creating other ecology’s in the process. John was unappreciative of this fact as he repeatedly stepped in stagnant pools surrounded with mosquitoes.

He finally reached the stream, with at least a pint of his blood missing, he thought. He began to work the stream. First he worked his way up. Catching several small trout that he released to grow up. Up just into the wilderness boundary he caught his first nice one. This he kept. He made his way another half mile up stream and crossed the stream on a fallen log, cut by beavers but much too large for them to move. They must have been after the food source of the higher branches ... or just exercising their teeth. He mused.

He fished his way down a spell until he reached the old trappers cabin from the 1800’s. Now just a small rectangle of rotting logs some two to three feet tall. He sat down on a broad rock and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Your stroke is getting better.” a voice said.

“That’s what Sheila tells me.” he responded, without looking towards it.

Howdy chuckled. “Where’s your shadow?” he asked.

“About half a mile down on the other side, looking for a way across. There isn’t one. The women chose to stay and get randy so I figure there’s just him.” John said.

“Better stay hidden anyway. So, how’s tricks?” Howdy asked.

“One o-clock sharp, day after tomorrow.” John said.

“He said he’d be there?” Howdy asked, excited.

“Yeah, but Catarina’s getting spooked. I don’t blame her. There was no need to bug the motor home after she reported she had the film. Doing so was either very stupid, or they suspect something. I don’t like it either way.” John said, sipping his coffee.

“Got another cup of that?” Howdy asked.

There were two stacking cups on the thermos, John only held one. He stretched suddenly and bumped the thermos with his arm, it rolled into the doorway of the cabin. A hand snatched it. A gurgling sound was heard and then a contented sigh.

“Good coffee, thanks.” Howdy said.

“You’re welcome. How about snagging my tail just before the snatch.” John asked.

“It was planned. All sorts of people are going to get snagged all over the U.S. All we needed was the exact time” Bill answered.

“Good, what time can I start back for Temple Square?” John asked.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Bill said.

“Yeah, so what time should it be safe for me to do so?” John asked.

Bill moaned. “No sooner than twelve-thirty. And hang well back out of the area. I don’t want one of Sergei’s spotters making you and blowing the whole thing.”

“That’s doable. Airport to Temple Square in half an hour.” John said, “Tell you what. Ping my E-mail when he gets on premise with the girl. I promise to hang back until then.”

“That’s doable ... and agreeable. You’d better start moving again. I don’t want your tail to see your mouth move.” Bill said.

“See you day after tomorrow. One o-clock. And I’d buy some ointment down at that gas station.” John said, standing up and retrieving his thermos.

“Why’s that?” Bill asked.

“Cause those green plants in there are Poison Ivy. It moved in when I was a kid. I found out the hard way while I was playing in there.” John chuckled.

Bill moaned and cussed.

John still chuckled as he packed up his thermos and moved off. Bill let him get well down stream before he slipped around the walls and back into the woods, itching as he moved.