Chapter 2: Percy's Story

I was sitting in his leather lounge chair looking at the fire in the fire place and reminiscing. I was living my dream. I was the proprietor of a Hunting/Fishing Camp in northern Vermont. It was about 20 miles outside of a small town in the northern woods on the shore of a small clear lake. The lake was fed by cold streams coming off the mountains. The water was crisp and cold.

The camp consisted of a large log cabin that served as the main building. There were 4 bedrooms, a large dining room, a commercial kitchen, an office, a lounge with a huge fireplace, and a small bar area. There were 15 two or three bedroom cabins were the guests stayed surrounding the main cabin. The small cabins had a living room with a small fireplace and a couple of chairs and a couch that converted into a bed if needed. The bathrooms were "down the path", each cabin having its own. There were communal shower buildings near the main cabin that shared the hot water with the kitchen.

OK, so it sounds a little rough, but this was a hunting/fishing camp.

The camp was a year round operation. In the fall came the hunters, they booked almost one year ahead. Not all of them got their hunting permit limits, but they had a good time with each other. Enjoying nature, drinking, playing cards, more drinking, telling tall tales, etc.

For the hunters the relaxation associated with a week away from the big city was well worth the cost. The guides used to joke, in private of course, that a lot of the guns were never even fired. To be more accurate a lot of those guns were never even loaded.

Some of the guests were there to just relax, but didn't want their buddies thinking they were up here for something other than the hunt. We spent extra time preparing special meals for them. I wanted them to enjoy their stay with us as well.

In the winter after fall hunting season, we had all the winter sports people. We were near enough to a ski slope that we attracted a lot of downhill skiers. We also got the cross country skiing set and the snowmobilers. Then again we were lower cost that the fancy resorts, a real bargain for those people that actually wanted to ski, not show off their wealth.

Oh yes, I couldn't forget the ice fishermen. They supplied a lot of items for evening meals. The lake was loaded with perch, walleye and pike. The fishermen bragged about their catches to the hunters. The hunters told tales of their hunts.

Occasionally I had venison on the menu; the hunters naturally assumed that earlier hunters supplied the meat. I never actually admitted that my butcher bought the venison farm raised. The hunters just thought it was locally killed in the woods around here. They never could figure out why "my" venison, served for meals, tasted better than the animals they harvested once they were back home. A lot of them pestered my cook for his secret recipe. He'd just smile and shake his head.

In summer, we got the families. They hiked, fished, boated, swam (for short times, the water was cold) and saw the sights in the area. The town's people loved these guests because they kept their local businesses busy.

Spring was our slow season. The winter crowd left with the snow, and it wasn't warm enough for the summer crowd. I used this time to relax, repair, and repaint.

The operation was making enough money to pay expenses with a little bit left over for me. That's why I was sitting on my behind enjoying an adult beverage and watching the fire.

For a lot of years I had more than one drink at night to help me sleep. You see I was a homicide detective for over 20 years in a big city. I saw a lot of man's inhumanity to man.

At night I would wake up seeing those dead faces. And when I did, I woke up screaming. By drinking a quart of cheap whiskey before bed, I was able to sleep through the night. I survived this way for years before my retirement.

One night, on a case, I met Jenny. She turned out to be a homeless girl who was about my daughter's age. I offered her a meal and a place to crash for that night. She has been with me since. Of course after a while she added a husband to our little family group.

"Our family group". Let me explain about what I now consider my family. After Jenny came to live with me, I got a phone call from a Juvenile Court Judge about my long lost son. It seemed that my son, Todd, was up in front of her for sentencing and had requested to live with me, his father. The Judge asked if I would consider accepting custody because she felt that his son was really a good kid. Todd was just screwed up because of his mother's life style.

I agreed to open my home to the boy.

I gave up my apartment and bought a big house for the three of usand continued with the business of life.

Let me take a minute to explain another happening to you.

I had three partners killed in the line of duty in my 20 years. The Captain decided I needed another new partner so he assigned me a woman. My jinx held up. Before two years were up, she was killed in the line of duty.

For a cop, losing his partner is a terrible event. For me it was even worse, this partner was number four and a woman besides.

She had no close family. It was my job to stand by her coffin and lead her from the church to the grave yard. By the time the preacher intoned, "From Ashes to Ashes", I lost it and collapsed.

The Juvenile Court Judge from Oregon flew east to attend the funeral because she knew that my son had developed a closeness with the partner. Judge Sanchez wanted to make sure Todd got through this terrible episode in his life.

The Judge arrived at the grave site just in time to see me collapse. She stayed at my house for the next week. During this short time, she developed a bond with Todd and Jenny.

And I guess I'll admit that I liked her there too.

No we didn't have sex. She was a widow and still recovering from the loss of her husband to cancer.

They shared their individual grief together.