Lone Wolf

Bob looked almost too horrified to speak. “What?”

 

 

“I could hire you on, to run charters. You could spend your whole summer up here, running fishing tours. No one knows this lake better than you. You’d know every little nook and cranny where someone could find a fish.”

 

“If there are any left,” Bob said. “There’s already fewer fish in these waters now than five years ago, ten years ago. You put up some big resort, this lake’ll be fished out in no time. You’ll ruin it.”

 

Leonard waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. There’ll always be fish. And listen, I gotta spend all this diaper money somehow!” He laughed.

 

“Let me ask you something,” I said.

 

“Shoot,” said Leonard.

 

“Are you wearing a diaper right now?”

 

Leonard smiled. “You can’t tell one way or another, can you?”

 

Bob got up abruptly. “I’m turning in,” he said. He looked at me, a sadness in his eyes. “We still on to go fishing in the morning?” He was asking like it was the last time he’d ever be able to do it.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “What time should I be ready?”

 

“Six-thirty?”

 

I swallowed. “Six-thirty?”

 

Bob smiled. “You want to catch fish or not?”

 

I sighed. “Sure, I’ll be ready.”

 

“And we’ll take a walk up there, right?” Leonard said to Bob. “Before the week’s over? Show you where the hotel’s going, the dining hall? Maybe, someday, even a casino? If I can get the license.”

 

Bob left without responding. Leonard watched Bob walk back to his cabin, then said to me, “He seems a bit upset about something, doesn’t he?”

 

“Maybe,” I said. “Hard to know what it could be.”

 

“Anyway,” Leonard said, recovering quickly from Bob’s slight, “my company’s also going to sponsor this new reality show. It’s just a blast, listen. They take this guy, and they tell him, you’re gonna love this, they tell him his parents are dead, killed in an accident, whatever. But the parents are alive, and in on the joke, and they get to watch their son planning the funeral arrangements, going to the funeral. It’s absolutely hilarious. Then, at the reading of the will, the guy finds out he’s been stiffed, he’s not getting anything, and then they bring in the parents, who are really alive, and, here’s the best part, because we’re the sponsor, it’s worked right into the whole plotline that everyone has to wear a diaper, because when this guy sees his parents are still alive, you know he’s going to shit his pants, right? So when…”

 

I went back into the cabin, unconcerned about seeming rude to Leonard. He seemed impervious to offense, giving or receiving.

 

Dad and Betty and Hank were sitting at his table, dirty plates stacked to one side, a dozen empty beer bottles here and there. I said, “I think the bear got the wrong person.”

 

Betty said, “That’s sort of what we were talking about.”

 

Dad said, “Come on, Betty, this doesn’t make any sense.”

 

I grabbed a beer, twisted off the cap, and took a chair at the table. “What doesn’t make any sense?” I asked.

 

“You knew Betty was a nurse, right?” Hank said.

 

I nodded. “You guys told me, you’re retired now.”

 

“Don’t even tell him,” Dad said. “He’ll just make something of it.”

 

“Arlen, I’m just telling you what I saw,” Betty said.

 

“What did you see?” I asked. I remembered how Betty and her husband had gone back into the woods alone, how he’d held up the tarp for her so she could get another look. I’d branded them ghouls at the time.

 

Dad shook his head, gazed down at the table, realizing it was pointless trying to keep Betty from telling me whatever it was she wanted to.

 

“I worked in Emerg for years,” she said. “Off and on, but I was down there a lot. In a lot of different hospitals, too. Most of that time, down in the city, but when we first got married, Hank and I, we lived up in Alaska.”

 

“No kidding?” I said. “I’ve never been up there, but have always wanted to see it. Ever since I saw that movie, with Pacino and Robin Williams, he’s the killer, and Pacino can’t get to sleep because the sun never goes down.”

 

“It’s beautiful,” Hank said. “You should go.”

 

“Sarah would love it, I bet. Can’t you take one of those cruises, see whales or something?”

 

“Can I tell my story?” Betty said. Hank and I shut up. Betty continued, “So I’ve seen the whole gamut, you know? From guys who’ve fallen off their fishing boats to teenage gang members who’ve been knifed in the head.”

 

“Yuck,” I said.

 

Betty shrugged. “A few times, in Alaska, I helped treat people who’d been attacked by bears. Maybe you saw that documentary, the one about the guy who lived with grizzlies, got killed by one? Remember how they brought bits of him back in garbage bags? I’ve seen that kind of thing. I’ve seen what bears can do, when they attack, which is still very rare.”

 

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