Dan headed out to try to find a little more dry wood at the bottom of the woodpile. “Some fucking vacation,” I heard him mutter. Poor guy was having a bad day. First the emergency at work, then the expensive bag, then the rain, and now his cabin.
In the carport, he took off his towel, and went behind the hut naked as a jaybird. He showed back up with several pieces of wood, and made a couple more trips, making a dry stack of wood under the cover of the carport.
I noticed what he was up to since I was constantly going in and out, being tasked with taking out the dirty linens, three full garbage bags, and the broken glass from the window. Sheri came out to hang up the wet towels from our bag; she was treated to an eye full as Dan finished his last trip. He looked like a drowned rat.
“Sorry, but I wasn’t about to get the only semi-dry thing I have any wetter.” He explained to my wife, while he turned his back to her, dried off, and got re-wrapped.
Sheri laughed, making light of the whole situation, taking it better than I could have hoped. “Don’t sweat it. I’ve got a feeling, that we’ll all be seeing a lot more of each other than we expected to by the end of this weekend.”
Truer words were never uttered.
With the garbage out, most of the place cleaned up, the bathroom, kitchen, floor, and any surfaces we could reached wiped down, and the furniture set right, you could hardly tell it was the same place we’d arrived at just a couple of hours earlier. It was almost a miracle what six people could do in less than three hours. The place was decently lit and smelled of Clorox and Pinesol, which was a whole lot better than it had started out. The front door opened onto a covered porch, which faced the water about 50 yards away downhill. We had the door open, with the screen door closed, helping air out the place. The windows were all still shuttered, except for the two in the front facing the porch. You didn’t have to get soaked to open those, and we could even open the windows themselves, with the screens in place.
The storm outside was not letting up, and there was no doubt we were going to be spending the night in this place. I finally gave it a good look over, seeing what we had, instead of what was wrong.
The cabin was basically quartered. Entering from the side door, the kitchen area was on the left. It had a propane stove, an icebox, and a simple sink and some counter space. It also had a table with 6 chairs. The front door divided the front of the house into two, the kitchen, and sitting area. The sitting area had two couches and a table that bracketed the huge fireplace. The back of the cabin had two queen sized beds, some dressers, and the small but efficient bathroom.
Dan was still upset. “I don’t understand it. They didn’t have to trash the place.”
Truth was it could have been a lot worse. I have rental houses that were left in much worse shape by tenants. Whoever had been there had broken the window, letting the weather and animals in, and had left a lot of trash around, but hadn’t gone out of their way to damage the place beyond that. They were just slobs.
The storm was picking up intensity outside, which also didn’t make sense. The forecast had been for possible showers. Friggin’ weathermen.
Robin had done her best to make the beds, with help from Jill, and had complained bitterly that the home invaders had torn down her privacy curtains which separated the two beds and the back of the house from the front. Once she mentioned it, I looked up and saw the evidence of the missing curtains and the busted tracks.
Jill, on the other hand was still bound and determined to make the best of things. “Leave it to Alex to make sure we at least have tequila, vodka, and rum. I suggest we break out the bottles, and just thank our stars that the place is still standing. What if they’d burned it down or damaged the roof? We’d be out in that slop, trying to get back to civilization.”
She was waving a bottle of tequila, a salt shaker, and a squeeze lemon. “What do you say, gang?”
Robin plopped down on the couch, in the seat nearest the fire. “Pass it here. I sure as hell need a drink.” The couches were in a bit of a V shape, further apart nearest the fireplace, and only an arm span apart at the opposite end.
Within a few seconds we were all gathered in the sitting area, tired and ready for a break, listening to the storm continue outside, and maneuvering for a place to sit. I ended up next to Robin, with Sheri by my side. On the other couch Jack was opposite Robin, Dan opposite Sheri, and Jill was firmly ensconced in the middle. I looked her over, anticipating a great view, but she had her legs demurely crossed.
Robin sprinkled some salt on her hand, licked it and took a drink from the bottle. You could see the surprise on her face. “Wow! That’s the best tequila I’ve ever had. I swear it’s like a single malt scotch!”
“El Tesoro Anejo, it’s been sitting on my shelf for the last three years. Not the best but pretty damned good.” I informed her.
The bottle made a circuit of the room, with the salt leading the way, followed by the tequila, with the squeeze lemon following behind. Before it had completed a second trip, Jill started in again. “This isn’t really that bad. I’m just thankful that we have a roof over our heads.”
That got a conversation going and it was decided that each person had to say one thing they were glad of on this trip.
Dan had the bottle, and was about to lick the salt off of his hand. “I’m glad that only one window was broken, and Jack was able to close it.” He licked the salt, took a swig from the bottle and leaned over to pass it to Sheri, who had just passed the salt to me.
As she leaned forward to take the bottle, her towel fell open giving everyone paying attention, and Dan in particular, a full on view of her chest. She set the bottle down on the table, re-did her towel, and grabbed the bottle again. “Didn’t I tell you?” she told Dan who gave her a smile. It was his first smile in a while.
“I’m glad that we remembered to bring the booze,” she said, before taking a healthy swig.