Chapter 1

"Mr. Jones, my name is Miss Michaels. I understand you have a room for rent."

"That is correct, and it is still available."

"Would you tell me a little about the room and where you are located?"

"It is a very large room. 18 by 22 feet. South facing and well heated. You do understand you have kitchen privileges, don't you? I mean you would have to take your meals here unless you drive the four miles into town every meal."

"The kitchen privileges are very important because I don't have a vehicle and I don't go out often. I do have a California driver's license. I illustrate children's books for income. Umm, do I need bedding? I've never been in this position to have to rent before."

"There are sheets in a chest and some blankets in a trunk. They would need airing out. I've never rented a room out before so--ah--I guess what I'm trying to say, I would need two months' room rent in advance."

"You advertised this for $125 a week or $450 a month. I would certainly pay by the month. Would you give me directions on how to get to your place? I will have to get a cab to transport me."

"Where are you now?" I knew it was the middle of the afternoon and no cabby would come out here this time of year anyway.

"I'm at the bus station here in Brattleboro."

"I'll pick you up in 45 minutes if you want to wait that long. The grocery store I use is on the same street and I have to get some things."

"You are so kind, Mr. Jones. I will expect you."

After I hung up, I decided maybe my new roomer might want something at the store so I would go directly to the bus station.

I had no idea what this woman who had rented a room from me sight unseen would be like. She seemed pleasant over the phone. I hoped she was as pleasant when I met her. I didn't really hurry as she wouldn't be going anywhere. I drove up to the station and I saw this very tall woman come down the steps and stand by several large suitcases. She stood there patiently as I pulled up. She had on a full winter coat and a Tyrolean style hat. The hat was pulled down to her eyes and she had a scarf almost covering her lips. I smiled to myself, wondering if she was wearing leather britches and suspenders.

"Mr. Jones, thank you for coming for me. These bags are mine. I'm glad you have a van. I would have had to argue with a cab driver about fare, they are so heavy." I opened the hatch door and the bags filled the cargo space between the seat and the door. She stood there clutching a hard case much like those that repairmen use to service equipment. I went to take it from her hand, but she said she would keep it with her.

I didn't realize what a large person she was until I got close to her. I am six-feet, three-inches tall and she was nearly my height. I held the passenger door open and she gathered her coat around her and slid into the seat. I caught just a glimpse of her legs as she swung in. They were long, of course, but even as quick as my glance was, I noted how smooth and fine skinned she was. I was startled when she readjusted her hat and removed the scarf, but made no comment.

"I didn't get your first name, Miss Michaels."

"It is Chastity. You can call me Chazzy. Most everyone I know calls me that. You said you were going to the grocery. I have a list if you would be kind enough to pick up these few items." I wondered if I was going to always do her bidding. Too early to argue about it yet.

There was a fact I was aware of that I didn't think she knew. I had seen Chazzy twenty years ago. It was at the Williamsville swimming hole not many miles distant from my home. A place for kids and grownups alike to swim. I was nine at the time and I surmised this girl swimming with her friends was a year older than me. At the time she was tall for ten years, but not overly so. I remembered the girl wasn't what you would call ugly, but she certainly wasn't pretty. At the time I didn't speak to her, because she was summer people.

The growth spurt that came later hadn't done that much for her facial features either. Now she had heavy dark eyebrows, an overly big nose and excessively large lips. The lips barely covered her teeth which were crooked, uneven and protruded. Also her lower jaw receded and there was little apparent chin.

I knew where her folks lived at the time I had seen her years ago. My father sometimes went there to do some work for Big Tony, the owner. Dad told me at the time I was never to go near there. He never said why, and I never did, maybe because he was so serious about it.

The place was only about three miles from where she would be living with me now and still carried the name of the Smith place. Then something came unbidden into my mind. Her name at the time was Chastity Michaels Smith. I had seen it written on her bicycle. Why had she dropped her last name? A little mystery here.

When we reached the store she handed me a $100 bill. "That should cover what I need. You do have a refrigerator and a freezer don't you? If it is more, I'll reimburse you. I'd go in, but I have had a long journey and am very tired. I do thank you, though." I surmised she didn't want to face the public. I can't say that I blamed her.

When I reached the inside, I paused to see what she had put down for groceries. She had fresh fruit and vegetables. The fruit was in multiples of two, so I guess she wanted enough on hand for two days. The vegetables were hearty. Sweet potatoes, white potatoes, squash, turnip (rutabagas) and onions. Not too many leafy ones. She specified how many pounds of each. When I went down the meat aisle, she had roasts, both pork and beef, sausage, bacon, chicken and lamb and extra large eggs. Damn, my mouth was watering already, for lamb was my favorite. Maybe she would like to have me sit down with her.

Bread, she wanted wheat and twelve grain, both loaves and rolls. She had butter, yogurt and cheese and when it came to ice cream, she wanted the gallon size, two if they have different kinds. I didn't think I would have any money left and I made sure I had extra money in my hand when I reached the checkout. I had enough, but just barely. My change was a nickel and two pennies. The groceries went on the back seat of the van. I handed Chazzy the change and the slip. "No beer? You didn't get beer."

"I'll get that at the discount center. I have to stop for gas."

"Good, I like beer with my meals." She paused, "Damn, I forgot to put freezer bags on the list."

I broke in with, "I have a good supply. Cooking for one person, I always have leftovers."

"Smart man, that's what I do too. Of course with my appetite, I don't always have too many of those."

As we turned onto my road, I told her that at this time of year the mud could get pretty bad. "We have two miles of it after we leave the black top. My driveway is about three hundred yards long and I drag all the way. It'll last another week and then it will start to dry up. The mud is a lot worse over beyond here. Dummerston and Newfane have further to truck gravel to fill in the mud holes."

"What town is your house in?"

"Brattleboro. The Dummerston town line is at the top of the hill."

"Is this your house we are coming to?"

"Yes, hang on, I'm going to have to goose the hell out of the van to get through this." We were considerably bounced around as I charged through the mud, just being able to make it.

I pulled in front of the house. Chazzy said, "I'm not going to do any driving until the mud dries up, that's for sure."

We unloaded the groceries. I carried the heaviest of her suitcases into the room she had rented. She was looking with interest at the furniture. I pointed out where the bedclothes were stored. "You better get them out. You can fluff them in the dryer if you want." She took off her hat and coat and threw it on the bureau. My God, what a hunk of woman!

"Go ahead and stare. Most people do. That is why I don't go out too much. You'll get used to how I look if you are around me for awhile."

I was somewhat embarrassed, but I wanted to keep looking. She had invited me to, hadn't she? I did, I walked around until I was behind her and paused. "Okay, that's enough. Come around where I can see you." She said this as she whirled to face me. Her face may not have been what her parents hoped for her, but there was no disputing the rest of her was fine. There just was so much of it.

I smiled into the face that was equal in height to mine. "You're beautiful!"

"Yeah right. As beautiful as a horse."

"No seriously, you're beautifully proportioned. The dress you have on is just right and your hair style is perfect."

"Mr. Jones, I have known you for less than an hour and I think you have gone far enough with your remarks."

"My apologies, Miss Michaels."

"That's Chazzy to you. What is your first name, now that we've got the boundaries established?"

"It's Marvin. Call me Marv, which I hate, or just plain Jones, as others do. Hey, I'll get more suitcases." When I came in and put two of them down, Chazzy had the sheets out and was making her bed. I grabbed the blankets and went down to the cellar to put them in the dryer to fluff. There was an opening over the washer that had at one time been a place to shoot laundry down. I could hear my new guest on her phone.

"Uncle Mort, I got here all right, but we can't do anything for a few weeks. You can't believe the muddy roads they have here. I think I'm about three miles from the house and I'm on the right road, but still in Brattleboro. I don't really remember what the place looked like and I don't want to ask too many questions. The person I'm renting from is a pretty nice guy. When we get done what we have to, I just might stay here for awhile and get to know him."

So--she was here because of where she stayed when she was younger. Why had she dropped her last name and why didn't she come right out and ask about her former home? Well it wasn't really a home because she only stayed the summer. There were places like this all over southern Vermont for people with money to come and stay a few weeks. Wow! A mystery for sure! Maybe I could have a real mystery to unravel. I should be able to because I wrote mystery stories for a living.

I waited down in the basement for the blankets. I heard her go out and get her last two cases, and it sounded like she was putting her things away. I got the blankets out of the dryer and folded them slightly so I could carry them. I received a smile of thanks as I parked them in a chair. "I'm having soup and a sandwich for supper. My heavy meal of the day is at noon. I can put together a sandwich for you if you wish."

"No, I'll cook myself a hamburger. What kind of soup?"

"Tomato."

"I'll have a cup, if you have enough." When Chazzy cooked hamburgers, she fried an onion and used almost a pound of hamburg for the two she fried. It made my mouth water to sit across the table from her. They weren't on the plate long, as they disappeared into her mouth at a rapid rate. She drank the hot soup from a mug. Half before she began on the hamburger and the last before she started on the second one. She washed that burger down with a can of beer.

I considered myself a good feeder, but I knew I couldn't compare to Chazzy. "That was good. I like your choice of beer. You know, I'm going to be doing nothing all day to speak of. Why don't I do the cooking for both of us?" She didn't look like she wanted an argument, so I agreed. I think my world had changed and it was certain to change more in a very short time.

There wasn't much for dirty dishes and we did them up in a few minutes. After that I went in and put on the evening news. I did this every day. Chazzy sat on the couch and I parked in my recliner. When the news was over I said, "TV is all yours if you want. I have some things to write in my office." I received a thank you.

I worked for two hours on a novel I was composing. I began to smell popcorn. I came out and she had my huge mixing bowl full of popcorn. "I was hungry so I went looking for a snack. I found the popper so borrowed some corn and made it. I'll pay you back next time you are in town." I hunted up a cereal dish and scooped some out of the bowl. She had put enough butter on it to practically soak the kernels.

The road was frozen over in the morning, so I went for my walk. I always planned on doing this, but sometimes I skipped out. I did walk enough to keep me lean anyway. When I returned, I could hear the shower running. I put coffee on and set about getting my breakfast.

I usually had one egg on toast, one extra slice of toast, one slice of bacon, one sausage link. As I sat down to eat, Chazzy came in with a robe on. It was easy to tell that was all she had on. She was well covered, but what was under the robe moved with every step she took. That is facing me or going in the other direction. It had been a couple of years since I had a steady woman in the house and this was quite a show for me.

"Look all you want, Jones, but you ain't ever going to get none."

I mumbled, "Sorry." I watched as she put three eggs in the frying pan, four strips of bacon and three sausages in another and filled the four slice toaster with bread. I said nothing, but got up and got the largest coffee mug I had out of the cupboard. I had creamer, but no cream.

"You will get some cream when you go to town again. I need it in my coffee. None of this fake stuff." I could tell she almost said crap, instead of stuff. She put the food into her at an amazing speed. Done, she stood and gathered all of the dishes. "You don't have a dishwasher? We need one. I like to cook, but I hate doing dishes. I'm going for a walk. Tell me about where the roads are within five miles of here?"

I drew her a map explaining where we were in relation to the different towns. It took her five minutes to get dressed and I watched her go down the driveway. I did the dishes. Nothing had been said about dinner and she had agreed to cook the meals but-- I fixed a three and half pound chicken to roast. Smiling, I wondered if I would get any of it. This done I went into my office and took up where I was last night with the story I was writing. I heard her come in two hours later.

She knocked on my door, opening it before I asked her in. I looked up at her. The sweat suit was well named, for she was perspiring heavily. "That chicken in the oven. Are you going to invite me or do I cook something for myself?"

"You're invited, but--" and I paused, "you do the dishes. Shut the door, I'm busy."

"Sorry." The door slammed. I decided maybe we should have a sit-down discussion about what's what after dinner.

"So where did you walk this morning?" I asked Chazzy this as the last bit of chicken disappeared off of her plate.

"I went up the hill. I saw the Dummerston town marker. When I got quite a ways, I saw the road that said Marlboro, but I kept to the right onto the Ravine Road. I went a long ways until I saw Barrows Road, turned around and came back. I had a hard time coming back up the hill and was glad when I reached your driveway."

"Oh then, Barrows Road is just past a house we have always called the Smith place. Some summer people owned it back twenty years ago. They don't own it now and haven't for several years. Is it muddy out that way?" Chazzy's head came up at attention when I said Smith place.

"Not any worse than this driveway is. In some places the road is still smooth. How come?"

"That means it hasn't broken up. I mean, the frost hasn't come out of the ground yet. Those spots will be muddy eventually."

"I think I will buy me some kind of transportation. What would you suggest?"

"I don't know. Where will you be driving and how far?"

"Not far, but I would like to be free to take off anytime."

"Soon? If you are, you should have something with four wheel drive in it. There are any number of vehicles out there. Pickups and Subaru cars would do it. You buying new or used?"

"Old and used, but dependable. Would you know what to choose?"

"I could find something. How much do you want to spend?"

"Could you get something good for a couple of thousand?"

"Sure."

"Well after I get the damned dishes done, let's look for something." I sat and watched as she did the dishes. I think she thought I was going to be intimidated by her size and the shape of her body enough to help. I wasn't intimidated, really. How can you be when something so admirable was moving around in close proximity to a person. When she hung up the dish towel to dry she said, "You're bad." She smiled and I grinned. I think over time we were going to get along okay.

The next day we found a nine-year-old Subaru on a used car lot on Putney Road for $1795. When it came time to make out the paperwork and pay for it, all she had was cash. "Jones, I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you the cash and you run it through your checkbook. You buy the car in your name and when I leave, you can have it. All you have is the van. Wouldn't it be good to have a smaller vehicle?"

"Why?"

There was a long hesitation before she answered. "I don't want my name to show up anywhere, that's all."

"Is the law after you?"

"No, but I can't tell you why either. Won't you trust me on this one little thing. You are getting title to a car that is all paid for, so isn't that enough?"

"I'll probably regret this, but I guess I can. Give me the money." I went into the dealer's office and told him I would be back with a check for the full amount. I went across the street and bought a quart of half and half cream, a three pound bag of popping corn and handed over one of the hundred dollar bills to the checkout cashier. She examined it and used her little pen on it, rang up the amount and gave me the change.