“She wanted to go to the game room. Said the sun was too hot.”
“She just went off on her own?”
“Er … yeah. This is a camp.”
Jack tried to gauge why that bothered him. Was it due to those older boys, the lifeguards that he now viewed as human sharks circling an impressionable, just-turned teenager?
Or leftover feelings from last night? The guards, the whole feel of the place at night.
He would have liked to have told Christie about it. But why? Make her nervous? Let his paranoia be her paranoia?
“I think I’ll go look in on her.”
“Jack—Jesus. She’s okay.”
“I know. But a look doesn’t hurt. Going to be lunch soon.”
“In an hour. Can you just—”
But he was already up. Feeling half-naked in his blue bathing suit and a plain black T-shirt.
“I’ll be right back.”
He turned and headed toward the game room.
* * *
He could hear the voices and the music from inside even before he pushed open the screen door.
Place was jumping. Obviously the teen hangout for the kids who didn’t want to stay with their obviously too- embarrassing families by the lake.
But not just guests.
He saw three young guys playing pool, one of whom had been on lifeguard duty the previous afternoon.
Kate stood by an old-fashioned pinball machine, all blinking lights and flashing dice. “Viva Vegas,” the game was called. An Elvis caricature danced above a roulette wheel.
Except Vegas, according to most reports, was as dead as the King himself. A ghost town.
He walked over to Kate.
“Hey, kiddo, how you—”
She spun around quickly as if being caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“Dad, what are you
Jack became suddenly aware that there was no one over sixteen in the room. Kate seemed to have taken note of that as well.
He tried to smile, even as he felt his ineptness in all this. “Just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“What? I’m fine.” Then louder. “Fine!”
Their conversation had caught the eyes of other kids. Now it was a show. Kate’s voice loud. Jack trying to keep a smile on his face.
“Good. Everything’s—” he started.
But Kate turned away from “Viva Vegas,” and marched to the door. “Now that you’re here, I’m leaving.”
In a flash, she was gone. The screen door slapped shut, punctuating the whole scene.
The kids in the room, grinning at it all, had gone back to their games, their conversations.
He left the game room, only steps to the outside, but feeling as if it took forever.
And out.
Standing there. A breeze blowing, taking some of the heat away. The game room a good-sized building. Looked like kayaks and canoes and other beach stuff were stored in the back.
The game fields, deserted on this hot day, were on the left.
But the game building was big enough that it shielded an area behind it. More fields, more storage buildings?
Perhaps not wanting to face his daughter down by the shore, at least not until she cooled off, he walked behind the building.
He saw a path leading to another building, only a little bit smaller, a short walk away. Someone standing outside.
Holding an ax.
Slamming it down on a block of wood.
He recognized the person. Shana. Chopping wood like a pro.
But he didn’t.
A chunk of pine a foot in diameter split into two nearly perfectly equal halves.
Shana hadn’t looked up until Jack stood only a few feet away.
Then she stopped. Heavy beads of perspiration on her brow. Before she looked up, Jack took in her bare midriff, which showed a smooth sheen of sweat.
“Looks like they keep you working hard.”
She smiled, her eyes directly on Jack.
“I like the exercise,” she said. “And besides, I live in back here. It’s one of the woodworking cottages. We make a lot of our own stuff … use the wood that’s all around us. The dead trees.”
“Looks like you’re good at it.”
“I’m good at a lot of things.”
Again, her eyes didn’t waver. Where was that breeze now?
She had placed the ax head on the ground, the handle held close to her side. Then she made the handle end jut out. “Care to take a whack?”
“I don’t think I could—”
She took a step, lifting the ax, handing it to Jack.
“Go on. It’s very therapeutic.”
She stood closer now, the beads of sweat so close.
Instinctively, he looked over his shoulder. The game building effectively blocked anyone from seeing the two of them. Secluded back here.
“Okay. Here goes.”
Shana effortlessly put a fresh block of wood on the tree stump used as a platform for the wood splitting.
He brought the ax back.
“Nice smooth swing, city boy. Keep your eye on where you want the blade to hit. And once it’s in motion … just let it go.”
Jack took a breath. He felt her watching him. But he kept his eyes on the wood chunk in front of him.
Then another breath—and he swung.
Eyes locked on his target spot.
It didn’t land smoothly in the middle of the piece. It was an awkward swing, nothing like Shana’s.
But Jack was glad to see that the force of the hit was enough to split the wood, sending two unequal pieces flying to either side.
Shana clapped once, then again. “Well done. For a city boy. Little bit of training, and you could be useful around here.”
Jack smiled.
He should get back. Christie would have questions about his encounter with Kate.
But Jack had questions. About this place. About Shana.
A few more minutes back here wouldn’t hurt.