Chapter 31

I never went to Dr. Davis’ office. I knew where I’d find him.

Bingo! “Hi Amy.

“Hi Karen. Good summer?”

“Pretty much. Made a lot of money from my stretch of the creek.”

“What?” Amy said.

“I thought everybody knew. I’ve been dredging Wolf Creek from the bridge at my house ... I own the land to Keystone road. I do not have sole use of the water, though. Circle K has water rights from the source to the confluence with the Tongue.

“Remember the fuss during the dry spell two years ago? No? Well, Circle K used up all the water to irrigate their hay meadows The Game and Fish Department were highly pissed and took the ranch to court. Wyoming Department of Natural Resources v. Circle K Ranch and its Proprietors.

“In court discovery petitions revealed the the Federal Land people had confirmed the Circle K Ranch had purchased the right to Wolf Creek and tributaries from the Native Tribes extant at time of purchase. The Federal wish to obtain the land for the Forest Service was stymied for a number of years until the Circle K donated the land “From the source to the forest boundary,” freely and without let or hinderance so long as Circle K owned the Water Right. Circle K gave the land but kept the water.

“Discovery also produced Federal documents that declared Wolf creek to be NON Navigable ... and therefor not subject to Sovereign Servitude.

“The Tongue is navigable. Discovery also revealed that the merging ... the confluence ... of Wolf Creek and the Tongue produced no measurable increase in the Tongue’s volume or flow.

“That pissed the Fisheries people off no end. They had stocked Wolf Creek with Rainbow Trout ... an invasive species, by the way. Wolf Creek is not native habitat to Rainbows. Brook trout are native. The stocking was done without permission.

“When Circle K used the water two years ago ... they used ALL the water. In court the state claimed damages. The decision of the court was that the state had no case ... it was a frivolous suit ... the state paid all costs.”

“Interesting, Karen,” there he was ... too good-looking to ignore and too damn old to be “Eligible.”

“You only missed one fact. The Circle K was using the water in accordance with the Water Right ... irrigation is the second mentioned legal use.”

“Dr. Davis,” I said.

Amy jerked and stabbed the intercom button, “Dr. Davis, Miss Post is here.”

I couldn’t help it ... I laughed.

“Heck,” said Amy. “Sorry, Dean.”

“Amy, college is a learning experience. Did you learn anything?”

“Yes Sir.”

“What?”

“Buzz you as soon as a student shows up.”

“Exactly, Miss Post ... please to follow me.”

He led the way to the cafeteria, chose an extremely visible table, helped me to my seat, and fetched me a cuppa. While he was away, I was subject to the scrutiny of various and sundry student ne’er-do-wells and faculty loungers.

Shit. Shit. Shit! I am in so much trouble.

<Maybe not.>

“Idiot! Keep out of this!”

Dean Davis was taken aback at the ferocity of my attack.

“Sorry, Doc ... wrestling with my demons. What did I do?”

“You,” he paused, “Didn’t do anything, and That is the problem.”

He slid an envelope with my name and address in the receivers box and the School Financial Office address in the upper left hand corner. The damn thing had official Post Office rubber stamps all over it. Returned. Unopened. Left in Box three weeks. Undeliverable. No Resident.

“The faculty decided. You get paid for your class.”

I fumbled with the envelope, “Where did they send it?”

“Your shop.”

“I haven’t been there in months.”

“We know.”

I whipped out my homemade Italian style switchblade knife ... machine shops are so much fun. This one was an exact copy of a nine inch knife ... except ... it was six inches overall open. The scales were walrus ivory and the knife was as well made as the best Italian ... it was just little.

I slit the envelope top and slid out a check ... for seven thousand dollars.

“What the Fuck?”

“They included rental of the building, machinery, heat and bathroom along with your wage as a temp.”

He growled, “Temps are hourly... 26 dollars an hour ... I’m salaried and don’t make that much.”

“Withholding? Social Security? Insurance? Teachers Retirement? How much was ... oh ... I see ... Doc ... they didn’t take THAT much out of my lottery winnings.”