Vivian and Helen, finished dressing, waited while the others got into clothes. Abilene used her blouse to wipe herself dry. Finley put on her baggy shorts and shirt without drying, tucked her knee socks into the deep pockets, and slipped her bare feet into her shoes. Cora didn’t bother to dry, either. She put on her T-shirt. It clung as if melting into her skin, but was long enough to hang like a very short dress. She stepped into her shoes and picked up the rest of her clothes.
She started to climb the stairs. Abilene took up the rear, carrying her damp blouse.
At the top of the stairs, they found themselves in a dimly lighted corridor beneath the stairway to the second floor. On the right, the hall led to the rear of the lodge where it met a windowed door to the porch. The far side of the corridor had two shut doors. There were no numbers on them, and Abilene guessed they might open into rooms that had been the living quarters of the lodge’s owners. On the other side of the corridor, near its end, was a single door. Picturing the layout of the place, Abilene figured it must lead into the back of the kitchen.
She followed the others out from under the stairway and around it. There, just ahead and to the left, was the front door.
She felt very glad to see it.
Vivian walked straight toward it. As she stepped outside, Cora and Finley wandered into an open room to the right. A parlor or library, Abilene supposed. Much of it was walled with built-in, empty bookshelves. There was a fireplace, smaller than the one in the lobby, on its north side. At the front, some limbs from the huge branch on the porch reached through the shattered window.
Helen gave the room little more than a glance before going out to join Vivian. After a few moments, Abilene followed.
It was good to be outside. It was especially good to see the familiar car parked a few yards from the porch.
Vivian and Helen stood in the sunlight beside the car. They were talking softly. They turned their attention to Abilene as she trotted down the stairs.
‘Do you want to leave?’ Helen asked her.
Shrugging, she spread her blouse on the hood of the car to dry.
‘Vivian does,’ Helen said.
‘I don’t think it’s safe.’
‘It might not be,’ Abilene admitted. ‘I don’t know.’ She looked at Helen. ‘I take it you’d rather stay.’
The girl’s face twisted as if she were in misery. ‘At least for one night, you know?’
‘What’ve we got here, a mutiny?’ Cora asked, striding out the front door.
‘We’re just discussing the situation,’ Abilene said.
Cora trotted down the porch stairs, Finley close behind her.
‘Shouldn’t we just climb in the car and drive out of here?’ Vivian asked. ‘I’m not suggesting that we fly home right away, nothing like that. We could find a nice motel for tonight and maybe spend a few days driving around, exploring.’
‘That kid really rattled you,’ Cora said.
‘This whole place rattles me. It gives me the creeps.’
‘It’s supposed to,’ Helen pointed out. ‘That’s why I picked it.’
‘I think it’s neat,’ Finley said, climbing onto the hood. She put down her camera, then sat beside Abilene’s blouse, lay back, raised her knees and folded her hands under her head. ‘We haven’t seen the upstairs yet, either,’ she added.
‘I think we should stay at least tonight,’ Helen said.
‘It’ll be really swift after dark,’ Finley said, sounding as if she longed for nightfall.
‘What about you?’ Cora asked Abilene.
‘It’s Helen’s choice. And we came all the way out here to see this place.’ She thought about the lodge for a few moments. It was spooky. She didn’t care for that aspect, but she realized that she did rather like the mysterious and nostalgic sides of its atmosphere - the wonder it inspired in her of peaceful times that were gone forever. Also, she knew she would hate to leave the hot spring behind. In the cool of the night, the caressing water would feel wonderful. ‘I think we should stick around overnight,’ she said. ‘See how it goes.’
‘Right on,’ Finley said.
Abilene turned to Vivian, who was not looking happy. ‘I know you’re worried about that kid. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open. If anything happens, we can hightail it.’
‘Okay?’ Cora asked.
Vivian groaned.
‘We’ve stuck with you,’ Helen reminded her. ‘Like traipsing all over New York City. Not to mention that time with the Sigs.’
‘Low blow,’ Finley commented from the hood.
‘Yeah,’ Cora said. ‘It’s not like she owes any of us. She’s done plenty.’
‘We’ve all done plenty,’ Abilene added.
‘I’ve just got a bad feeling about this place.’
‘We’ve all had bad feelings about some of the crap we’ve done,’ Cora said. ‘But we always stuck together.’
‘And had a gas,’ Finley said.
‘And we’re all still alive and kicking,’ Helen said.
‘Some kicking more than others,’ Abilene put in.
Vivian nodded. ‘Why don’t we at least hoist a couple before we go back in?’
‘Now you’re talkin’,’ Finley said.
Cora squinted into the trees to the west. ‘Looks to me like the sun’s over the yardarm.’
Everyone but Finley went to the rear of the Wagoneer. Helen found the keys in her pocket and opened the tailgate. Cora climbed in, spent a while searching, then shoved the ice chest down past her feet. Abilene picked it up. Moments later, Cora crawled backward dragging the box of plastic glasses, liquor, mixes and snacks.
They carried the ice chest and box to the front of the car.
‘Ah-ha!’ Finley said. ‘Goodies!’ She scooted down off the hood and joined them.
Abilene opened the chest. Before leaving the motel that morning, they’d packed it to the brim with ice. Some had melted. But plenty of the ice remained - enough for tonight, at least.
They scooped up cubes with their glasses. Cora opened a bottle of pre-mixed margarita and poured some for each girl.
‘To us,’ she toasted.
‘The daring young maids,’ Finley added.
‘On our flying trapeze?’ Abilene said.
All five touched the rims of their glasses, and drank.
‘Isn’t this just the greatest?’ Helen said.
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ Vivian said. ‘The margarita sure hits the spot, though.’
‘We really oughta be imbibing down at the bar,’ Cora said.
‘Too hot,’ Abilene told her.
Finley climbed back onto the hood and sat with her feet on the bumper. Cora, following, looked over her shoulder. ‘Do you mind if I sit on your blouse?’ she asked Abilene.
‘Help yourself,’ Abilene said.
Cora dragged the blouse toward the front of the hood, then climbed up and sat on it.
‘We oughta get good and polluted,’ Vivian said, refilling her glass.
‘So we can watch you throw up?’ Cora asked.
Helen laughed. ‘Just like she did in Hardin’s office. Remember?’
‘Good ol’ Hardass,’ Finley muttered.
CHAPTER SEVEN
