Page 6 of Summer Camp with the Mountain Man

Until one day you look at your bank account and realize that world isn’t as out of reach as you thought. The question is, do you belong there?

Or do you belong in a place like Cedar Spring, where someone like Rayne can skip down the dock with your heart in the pocket of her tight little jean shorts?

The drive through town takes an age, it’d have been quicker to walk at this point, but I’m in no rush. I’m where I’ve always belonged, and I don’t care if I never leave again.

“Oh well aren’t you a tall drink of water,” the woman at the desk says with a whistle as I step in the cabin. “You must be part of the Procter party.”

I don’t want to jump to conclusions here but I’m quite certain this woman is stoned off her ass. “Cade Procter.”

I took my mother’s maiden name a few years after the divorce, when it became clear Dad wasn’t coming back for me.

“My word, if you were to say that like a pirate, you’d be an arrCade.” She is definitely higher than a kite. “Big fan of Ms. Pac-Man here. And pineapple on pizza. Which really isn’t an arcade game but it deserves a shout out anyway. Someone should make a game about that. You don’t design arcade games by any chance, do you, Pirate Cade? Of course you don’t, look at you. I bet you do pushups with sperm whales on your back for a living.”

“Ya know, I tried but the salt water dried out my skin, so I started building decks instead.”

“Well shiver me timbers, you are a fascinating specimen. If my daughter wasn’t suddenly engaged out of the blue I could see you being my new son-in-law. Okay, cutie pirate, here’s the treasure map to your campsite.”

“This is an empty Doritos bag.”

“It is? My heavens, it is. Aww,” she says, giving the empty bag a pouty face. “That’s no good. Here we go, this is the map. Oh and if you see my daughter, just go along with it and pretend she doesn’t work here. Wink wink. Not quite clear on why.”

I think she just winked at me using her mouth, both eyes still wide open. She is way higher than I thought she was. Is she under the impression I know her daughter? Does she even realize I’m a guest or does she think I’m here to plunder her booty? Bad choice of words, I will not be plundering her or her engaged daughter’s booty. Maybe stealing their treasure would have been the more appropriate phrasing.

Seeing the water through the trees reminds me of being back on Cushing Island. Same wild forest. Same sparkling water.

In my heart I always knew coming here would complete me in a way I can’t explain, a ghost crossing over after resolving its unfinished business. I could have come here countless times over the years, I’ve even turned down a couple jobs on the lake. I guess I wasn’t ready until now. There was still more haunting to be done.

The last thing I wanted was to come here and feel like an outsider, not in the place I always knew I belonged.

“There he is!” my uncle shouts, dropping his tent stakes the moment he sees me. “Everybody, Cade’s here!”

“Booo!” A chorus of disapproval echoes through the woods. What can you do? I guess you never completely fit in everywhere you go.

“Ahh don’t listen to these knuckleheads,” Uncle Bobby shouts, waving off the jeers from the surrounding campsites. “My boy’s a putz, you did what ya had to do.”

Why he talks like a New Yorker when he’s lived in Colorado for as long as I can remember is beyond me, but it’s always made me feel at home. I chalk it up to him working a blue collar job but by that logic, the rest of the construction crew would sound like a reading for a mob movie in the 1950s. They don’t.

He pats my shoulder proudly as I saddle up beside him, helping string the tent rods through the holes. I was never an outsider in his eyes. Sometimes I think he took on the accent just for me, so I wouldn’t feel so out of place when we moved from New York to the outskirts of Denver after the divorce.

“You don’t need to keep booing me, Mom, everyone has already stopped.”

“And you’ll keep getting booed until you bring your cousin back. Giovanni deserves a second chance. We all make mistakes.”

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. Are we actually calling him Giovanni now? I couldn’t hire him back if I wanted to, he’s got multiple lawsuits opened against him. I’m pretty sure he’s not legally allowed to work in construction right now.”

“Don’t pay them any mind, Cade. You know they do nothin’ but coddle that kid. He’s fine. He’s got some harebrained scheme goin’ with one of his investor buddies. I’m sure you heard he’s engaged now.” The way Uncle Bobby rolls his eyes makes me feel a little less guilty about my skepticism. Sounds about as real as his new business venture.

“I’ve heard. He likes to leave me messages every few days, in case I need reminding he’s doing fine without his job.”

“I told your Aunt Marie, we ain’t payin’ for any more of his legal troubles.”

“Really?” I chuckle, patting his back playfully. “So how’s the couch been treating you?”

He gives his muffin top a good jiggle, untucking his company logo shirt. “At my size, I barely fit on the damn thing. I did find almost a dollar in loose change though. So take that, Marie! Yeah, she wants to give him his trust fund. Had to open my big mouth and tell her if he proved he could handle it, I’d be on board. He goes and starts his own bitty-coin business or whatever it is and gets engaged. Foot, meet mouth.”

“Maybe wait and see if either of them are real before signing anything over.”

“I heard that,” Mom shouts from her campsite somewhere through the trees. Is she actually here or does her running commentary just live rent free in my head?