From Out Of The Blue

 

            One day when Ranger Rick was sitting in his office poking at his laptop with one forefinger, his phone buzzed at him. It was a text. He grunted and pulled the thing out of his pocket to see if it was anything at all.

“Hi Rick. I thought I better write and tell you early that I guess I won’t be back to work at            the campground in the spring. It was a great experience, and thank you for giving me the opportunity! Marge”

            “Well, shoot!” Rick said aloud into the empty room.
            “Thanks for letting me know in a timely manner,” he wrote back. At the same time he was thinking that some things about the modern ways of communicating were oddly mysterious. He had no idea where his message was going. Could be flying to outer space, and he laughed. All he knew for sure was that it was going to Marge.
            Rick was feeling a little sad for Dexter. “Well, onward,” he said aloud, again.
            Outside the office window, the snow was fairly deep on the ground except where the parking lot had been cleared. His service truck was already parked in its usual spot. He expected Dexter to show up soon. It was 7:50 AM, a Tuesday. More snow would fall today, but the season’s best snowfalls were still to come.
            At 7:55AM, but who’s watching, Dexter pulled in and parked. He was bundled up like he was in Antarctica. Maybe there was no heat in his beater? He wore a dayglo orange earflap hat, pretty dorky Rick thought. A heavy coat, gloves and boots, naturally, completed the look.
            Stomping his feet, Dexter came through the door. He looked frozen. Skinny guy.
            “Isn’t there any heat in that thing?” said Rick, eyebrows up.
            “I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” said Dexter. His teeth were actually chattering.
            “Coffee’s made,” said Rick, like he was proud of his Safeway coffee.
            Dexter jammed his hat and gloves in the pockets of the black coat and hung it up in the back room. He went to get a mug of coffee, thinking that at least it was hot. It had that going for it. Not much else. There was a box of doughnuts in the kitchen nook too.
            “Score!” said Dexter, with his mouth full of doughnut, coming out to take a seat on the office spare chair.
            “We have a little situation here,” said Rick. “Marge isn’t coming back this spring. I just got a text. She didn’t explain.” He tried to judge Dexter’s reaction, noting maybe a little droop.
            “Lots of time to get a new host, I guess. How do you go about it?” said Dexter.
            “Ralph introduced Marge last time. I guess I’ll have to look through some applicants and talk to them,” said Rick. He was already looking at applications as they spoke.     
            When it came down to cases, there were three applicants. Two guys and a young woman. Rick thought having a female camp host was a nice touch. It was homey, he thought. He thought campers felt better about asking a girl silly questions.
            The young woman’s name was Hannah Tucker. She lived in Arlington, so Rick called her. He told her that they would come to her for a chat.
            They would meet her somewhere.
            “How about the Bluebird Café?” answered Hannah. “It’s on main street, right in the middle of town.”
            “Yup. I know the spot,” said Rick. “How about tomorrow for lunch? Let’s do it at 11:00 and beat the rush.”
            “Wednesday, 11:00AM, the Bluebird. Got it,” said Hannah.
            “You want to come along?” Rick asked Dexter.
            “Sure,” he agreed.
            She was easily spotted at the Bluebird. Hannah had chosen a booth right up front by the windows. A noisy choice, but thoughtful. She was a bit birdlike herself. She was one of those tiny true blonds that pop up in the population once in a while.
            “Hannah?” said Rick once he and Dexter were indoors.
            “Yes. That’s me,” she said.
            The men got seated on the other side of the booth, and a waitress brought menus.
            “I’m buying, by the way,” said Rick. Then, “so, Hannah, what makes you yearn to be a National Forest campground host?”
            “Looking for a change. I’d like to be out in the woods for a while. I’m tougher than I look,” and she laughed, because she could see what Rick was thinking. “I’m good with people and I like talking to strangers!”
            “What special skills do you have?” said Rick. Dexter wasn’t saying anything at all It was as if he had lost the facility of speech.
            “My hobby is target shooting. I also develop recipes for my blog,” she said.
            And so the questioning went on in a casual friendly manner. Hannah had chili and milk for lunch. Rick had fish and chips. Dexter was hungry so he ordered a Reuben sandwich and fries. Both of those two had coffee.
            “Well, Hannah, unless you change your mind, we can use you up in the campground I think. Thanks for meeting us. I’ll send details and contact you when I’m about to open the campground for spring. It won’t be for a while yet. Snow is coming!” said Rick.
            As they were settling back into Rick’s service truck for the return trip to the Ranger Station, Rick turned to Dexter and said, “Well. What do you think? Will she do as fine a job of hosting the campground as Marge did?”
            “Marge? Oh, yeah, Marge did a good job, didn’t she?” said Dexter. But he was grinning like a goof, a goof who had gotten another look into that far warm golden country.
            Rick just shook his head, started up the engine, and smiled.
            The date was February 14.

💘