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Steve and Jan McMahon encounter horrors on a camping trip First 2 Chapters |
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Chapter 1 The dawning sun cast a strawberry tint over the entire morning as she leaped up onto the sandstone outcropping that looked like the floor of a stage; flat, square and about eight inches thick. It was also surprisingly level considering the builder's history for making such things level. Best of all, it was hidden behind a cap rock. There she stood royally; chest out, head high, motionless, fearless. From there, she could see for miles. She was truly queen of all she surveyed. As she scanned the prairie, she suddenly became aware of a small herd of mule deer grazing in the pasture below. She had smelled them before, which was the reason she'd jumped onto the flat rock in the first place. She kept her eye trained watching them graze their way closer and closer. She watched one of the younger ones flare its nostrils to take in the sweetness of the morning breeze. The little doe's ears pricked forward listening for any sounds of movement. Some of the others stopped grazing too and looked around curiously for a while, but then resumed their morning munch, satisfied that they were in no immediate peril. Stealthily behind the cap rock she dropped low on her haunches; her tail straight out behind her, rigid as a broomstick; her muscles tight as the head of a banjo. She was preparing to ambush that young doe grazing not twenty feet below her. The doe lifted her nose to sniff the moist spring air one last time. It all happened so fast! The poor little doe was down and struggling for any breath at all. The cougar had attacked suddenly and ferociously. The impact of the huge cat landing on the doe's back shattered the left front leg and broke several of her ribs one of which was plunged through her right lung. Realizing the doe was in no shape to put up a fight or even run away, the great cat circled, taunting the frightened deer. Suddenly she grabbed the back of the doe's neck and shook her until she shook the very life out of the young deer. Afterward, the cougar enjoyed a leisurely, early-morning breakfast. Chapter 2 The late spring breeze warmed her face as she unzipped the tent door and peeked out. Jan thought about the western mountains near Missoula where she'd grown up. She thought about how the snow would still be heavy in the Bitterroots. Here, the aging, gray snow had been replaced by the wetness of late spring rains. The air had that "just-rained" smell. Jan loved that smell. Jan and Steve McMahon were camping in Makotahita State Park in eastern Montana. It was a bit early in the year for camping, but Steve had been feeling somewhat burned out at work and needed some time off. Besides the rattle snakes were still friendly this time of year, Steve had joked knowing they were probably still in hibernation; at least he hoped they were. As Jan made her way through the tent door, she found the morning somewhat frosty. She paused for a moment before leaving the tent to glance back inside to see Steve and their five year-old son, Connor, still sleeping soundly. "Gotta get a fire going, she said in a whisper as she exited the tent, “but I gotta pee first.” Outside the tent she whispered a good morning greeting to their golden Labrador retriever as he came bounding up from the coulee below. Jake wagged his tail excitedly in response. Good old Jake. He'd been around a while now, what was it? Nine years? Ten? She couldn't remember exactly. It seemed like Jake had been around forever. "Stay, Jake", she commanded, not wanting him to follow her to the trees to do her morning business. Jake obeyed. He did not follow. As she squatted, Jan thought about Jake. She remembered when they'd first gotten Jake. Oh how that dog loved Connor. The two of them were inseparable. Jan knew that Jake would never let anything happen to Connor. He was the most trust-worthy and loyal babysitter she could think of. Still she'd become very concerned when Connor and Jake wandered off yesterday. They hadn't gone far but she and Steve became mighty worried before they found the pair a short distance from camp. She didn't want to become one of those over-protective parents, but sometimes she'd almost panic at the thought of something happening to Connor. After returning to camp, with Jake's supervision, Jan started building a fire. She gathered some pine needles from around the campsite. There is always an endless supply of pine needles in the forest. Why is that? The day before, she and Steve had scrounged twigs and small branches for kindling the fire. She was having a difficult time starting this fire because everything was partially wet from all the rain they'd had lately. Gas, Jan thought, would get this fire going in a hurry, but she knew Steve would frown on that if he should wake up while she was dousing a log with gasoline. Being a Montana girl, Jan knew sometimes the outcome does justify the means. Steve, being a city boy, thought using gas to light a fire was both wasteful and dangerous. "He's such a wimp, sometimes", she thought blowing on the smoldering mound of pine needles. As the fire slowly began to grow, Jan rounded up the coffee pot, an old stainless steel, nine-cup percolator she'd purchased from a lady named Gracie who owned a second-hand store in Dillon, Montana. She'd paid a buck and a half for it even though that was about twice as much as it was worth. Jan dug around in an old backpack she'd had since graduate school and found her trusty, battery-operated coffee grinder. She remembered when she bought the pack at the University of Montana bookstore in Missoula where she and Steve had first met while attending grad school. She quickly ground enough beans for the percolator's basket. One thing she and Steve had always agreed on: they both preferred fresh-ground coffee. Jan had finally gotten a nice roaring fire going which had now burned down to coals just perfect for cooking. She was watching the coffee perk, noticing the brew was darkening a little more with each "bloop." She was sort of spaced out thinking about the source of the blooping sound when Connor came out of the tent door with dad in tow. "Morning guys", she said softly, "I'll have some fresh coffee in a minute." "I want coffee, Mama", Connor yelled excitedly as he came running toward the fire. "Don't run into the fire, son", Steve called from behind. "I want coffee, Mama", Connor repeated, each word becoming softer as he approached. "I know you do, honey", Jan answered, "and you want cream in it too huh?" "Yeah, mostly cream with a little bit of coffee… and sugar too." Jan fixed him a cup of mostly 2% milk that Connor thought was cream because that’s what Grandpa had mixed in his coffee. Before her dad had died six months earlier, he would take Connor sometimes on Saturday afternoons. They'd go for walks, and stop to rest on a park bench. Once they went all the way to Billings and stayed over night. Connor talked about that trip for days afterward. When they'd get home from one of their odysseys they'd sometimes have coffee. Other times they'd have soup. "Bean-less" bacon, as he called it, was Connor's favorite. Grandpa even fed Connor oyster stew a couple of times… And Connor ate it… and liked it! "What do you want for breakfast, boys?" Jan asked, handing Steve a cup of hot, steaming coffee. "Steak and eggs", he answered. "No", replied Connor, "Spaghetti… or pizza… Yeah pizza!" "We can't have pizza for breakfast", Jan said. "Why?" "Because pizza is for supper, you silly" Connor looked at his mother thoughtfully for a moment. Unwilling to let anyone else decide, he quickly said, "Peach pancakes then." "I didn't bring any whipped cream", she said apologetically. It showed on Connor's face that he was thinking about that. He liked peach pancakes. It was another thing he'd learned from Grandpa when they'd visited the IHOP in Billings last year. "Did you bring "surup?" "Yes, honey, I brought syrup." Connor's face lit up again. "Ok lets have pancakes but I don't want no peaches." "You don't want any peaches", Steve corrected. "Yeah, I don't like peaches with no 'whip' cream." "Pancakes good with you, Hon?" Jan asked Steve. He nodded his head, "Yeah sure… as long as there are eggs and bacon to go with them." "Coming right up", Jan answered. Connor watched as Jan began mixing the pancake batter and frying the bacon. "Mama?" began Connor, "is your friend Katie an Injun?" "She's Native American, son", replied Jan, "Why?" "Grandpa said she's an Injun", Connor said. "What's a 'Naytee' American?" "Native American… it’s… It's a nice word for Injuns", she whispered, glancing at Steve who was taking in the scenery and sipping his coffee not paying attention to their conversation, which was good she figured. "Am I a 'Nayteeve' American, Mom?" "No son, you're half Irish and half Norwegian." After giving the matter considerable thought, Connor asked, "Is my top half Irish and my bottom half 'Norweejan' or is my top half 'Norweejan' and my bottom half Irish?" Jan couldn't contain a chuckle. "It doesn't work that way, son", she answered. "It doesn't?" "No." "How does it work then?" Jan thought about how to answer him in a way he'd understand. She looked from the frying pan into Connor's questioning face. His eyebrows slanted upward as if trying to form a triangle on his forehead. Unable to think of a suitable answer, she said, "Your right side is Irish and your left side is Norwegian." Conner nodded his awknowledgement and headed off toward their vehicle. Jan was sure he was trying to find a mirror so he could see which side was Norwegian and which was Irish. After breakfast, Steve stoked the fire a bit. Jan placed a large pot filled with water on the grate over the fire to serve as a wash basin. When the water was satisfactorily heated she washed the few dishes and utensils she'd used for cooking. They always brought paper or plastic plates on these camping trips so there weren't many dishes to wash. Steve went to gather more firewood. Connor was following directly behind him asking, "Where ya going, Daddy?" Firewood can be hard to come by in Makotahita. Most trees in the Park are Juniper, which is not the best wood for burning, but if it's dry enough, it serves the purpose. Jan watched Connor follow his father into the woods and out of sight. She noticed that he had his dad's walk. Everything about Connor reminded her of Steve. She heard some hacking noises coming from the woods. Steve was chopping wood, she guessed. She was busy drying the bowl she had used to mix the pancake batter when Steve emerged from the woods dragging a large, dry branch. "This'll last for a while, but I better get more right away." Jan watched as Steve dragged the branch over beside an eight-foot-tall boulder and began chopping it up with his hatchet. "Where's Connor?" Jan asked. "I don't know", Steve answered, "I thought he was with you." |
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