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Chapter six
Two days later, the hunting crew from the Roads End camp gathered at the cabin for the work bee. Jeff and Grant met there the night before and cooked a lake perch dinner. The Roads End camp was a log structure built in 1940 out of white cedar. Their father had commissioned an Amish builder from a nearby county renowned for his skill in building cabins. It had three rooms including a bathroom and an extra bedroom on the north end of the structure. The main room was open and had a TV, a kitchen with running water, a bar, and eight bunk beds along the back wall. In front of the main room sat a stone fireplace that had burned untold cords of wood since the camp opened. A refrigerator, an upright freezer, and an electric stove sat along the wall, surrounded by hardwood floors throughout the cabin. Visitors commented that the cabin was one of the nicest in the entire county. The crew of Roads End certainly agreed. The members loved telling their friends and spouses they were going to camp to “rough it,” knowing that the camp had more conveniences than most homes in the county.
Roads End Hunting Club
The first two guys to arrive the following day were Lawrence Duquette and Nick Scarmucci. Nobody ever called them Lawrence or Nick. They were always known as Frenchie and Mooch. There weren’t many people of French descent in Granite Cove. It’s not tough to figure out how Lawrence Duquette became Frenchie. He liked his nickname and played along by wearing a beret. His curly black beard covered his entire face and his high-pitched voice sounded like a boy yet to hit puberty. Frenchie went to school with Jeff and became one of his closest friends and confidantes. He worked as a yard manager at a local lumber company and lived in Granite Cove his whole life. When Jeff returned from Montana to work at Koehler, his lifelong friendship resumed with Frenchie as if it never missed a beat. Frenchie’s jovial nature made him the court jester for the entire camp.
Mooch was a long-time friend of Grant’s. He had a barrel chest with a gut hanging over his waist. His belt sagged under the immense pressure of supporting his enormous girth. He sported black mutton chop sideburns and wore the same denim jacket whenever he left the house. Mooch worked at a car dealership in a nearby town where his outgoing personality and likability made him the top earner at his job. He earned his nickname Mooch because of his last name and propensity to “borrow” things from his friends. He constantly hung out at Grant and Jeff’s home during his childhood and always would hit up their mother for cookies or candy every chance he got. Mooch seldom brought lunch to school. Grant brought extra sandwiches for his friend when his mother packed his lunch. His fellow hunters were accustomed to his queries if anyone had extra ammo, flashlights, gloves, or tools he could borrow.
Frenchie and Mooch pulled into the camp almost simultaneously and immediately started arguing about their work ethic. “Hey, Mooch,” Frenchie yelled, “I’m surprised you made it. I figured you’d come down with the one-day flu to avoid work.”
“Fuck you, Frenchie,” responded Mooch. “I’ll work you under the table every day of the week and twice on Sundays. I hope Grant assigns you latrine duty because you’re full of shit anyway.” This back-and-forth banter became a hallmark of the relationship between these two men. Before Max Koehler died, he always said they reminded him of the “Bickersons,” an old-time radio sketch from the 1940s where the two main characters were constantly arguing and teasing each other relentlessly. The guys at Roads End had become immune to the “Bickersons” banter. The two were actually great friends. You might think they were arch-enemies if you didn’t know them and realized it was a game. As they entered the cabin and began to put away their gear, Jeff could hear them arguing in the back about which one deserved the lower bunk and which guy had to climb up top. Once they were settled and waiting on the rest of the crew, Mooch immediately informed Grant he had forgotten gas and chain lube for his chainsaw. He would need to borrow some from one of the guys.
The next guy to arrive was Chet Freemont, who had been a camp member longer than anyone not named Koehler. Chet taught shop class at the local high school and had a hard-edged personality that could be quite abrasive. When the stockily built Chet exited his truck, he looked like a force of nature. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms that looked like he could play linebacker on a football team. For a man in his late 40’s, Chet was incredibly strong. He had a gray goatee that clashed with his bald head. On his hip, he carried a hunting knife on his right side and a machete on his left. Mooch joked he looked like Rambo going into battle against the entire enemy nation. Chet could be fun, but he frequently butted heads with Jeff and Grant lately. As Chet got older, he became more cranky and disagreeable. Some thought it stemmed from his hard-charging personality, but others knew it went much deeper. Chet greeted the guys who arrived before him. Grant and Jeff hoped Chet wouldn’t stir up any problems during the weekend.
Chet had one distinguishing figure of speech, unique to him and him alone. His closing remark at the end of almost anything he said was, “Burn it Down, Baby.” This phrase made no sense to anyone but Chet. Despite this, he still used it extensively in almost every imaginable conversation. For example, Chet might say, “I am going to the bar tonight. “Gonna Burn it Down, Baby.” If he talked about his favorite sports team, the Detroit Lions, he would say, “It’s going to be a Lions year in 2021. Burn it Down Baby” If you asked him about work or hunting, it mattered not; he would still end his response with his famous line. Everyone else found this idiosyncrasy very annoying and nonsensical. However, it was a part of Chet, and he wasn’t gonna change. As Chet exited his car and greeted everyone at camp, he yelled, “Let’s get on with this work bee and Burn it Down, Baby!”
The men were all grabbing chainsaws and gasoline out of their trucks and scurrying around, getting ready to work. They were almost ready to head out to the forest when they saw another truck approaching the camp. The next person to arrive was definitely the most unconventional camp member of all. An old, rusted 20-year-old Chevy pickup pulled in alongside the other vehicles. Out stepped the newest camp member, Henrietta Elkins. The tiny woman stood no taller than 5ft 3in, with brown hair and a wrinkled face that made her look older than her biological age of 60. She was terribly skinny and had hands that told you she worked hard her whole life. Elk kept her hair short in a style that required the least attention and hadn’t worn makeup since high school. Jeff had known Henrietta for much of his life before he knew her first name because nobody ever called her anything but Elk. She leaped out of her truck and immediately barked, “Frenchie, move that piece of shit, hunk of metal you call a truck, out of my spot. That’s my parking spot, and I won’t have some French Fuck like you taking it over.”
“Bite me, Elk,” Frenchie responded, but everyone noticed he immediately grabbed his keys and moved his truck.
“Greetings Elk,” Grant said,
“Hey, moneybags, How’s it hanging these days?”
Henrietta Elkins grew up with her mother, working in a small restaurant in Granite Cove. She never knew her father and never really cared. Her mother ran a small restaurant that only seated about 30 people. By age ten, Elk waited tables in the restaurant, and by age 12, she learned to cook from her mother and the head cook, Cheryl. Elk’s true passion became cooking. By age 17, she had assumed most of the cooking duties at the restaurant. Her skills became well-known around town. The quality of the food kept the small restaurant busy with standing-room crowds during lunchtime.
During her time as a waitress and cook at the restaurant, she came to know Max Koehler very well. They struck up a friendship during his daily lunch trips. Max and Elk seemed to click because both were no-nonsense, compassionate souls. There were several times when money became tight at the restaurant over the years. Max “loaned” Elk’s mother money to cover the expenses. When she tried to repay Max, he would say the food tasted so good that he considered the debt paid in full.
Elk’s mother died in her late 60s from an unexpected heart attack. This devastated her. Elk told Max she was considering closing the restaurant because she couldn't bear to work there after her mother passed. Upon hearing this, Max convinced her to run the cafeteria at Koehler Iron Works. Elk agreed and became the cook and food services manager at Koehler.
Elk had become a frequent visitor, and sometimes hunter, at the Roads End camp for years. Max always convinced her to come out to hunt and cook a few meals for the guys every year. Elk proved herself an excellent hunter who picked up the sport at a very young age from a local conservation officer who took her under his wing. She learned to shoot a gun better than most guys and seemed to have a knack to anticipate where deer would appear. When Max died, Elk spoke with Grant and told him she planned to retire. Her frugality, and money saved from the sale of the restaurant, allowed her to retire in a manner consistent with how she lived.
Elk surprised all the guys at Roads End about a month after her retirement when she showed up at the camp on the night before deer season. She announced her plan to join the camp because you horn-dogs can’t cook a decent meal without me.” Looking directly at Grant, she then stated if anyone had a problem with her joining, they could “kiss my ass.” The guys were surprised and a bit shocked, but not a single person raised an objection. From that day on, Elk became the first camp member in history who wasn’t invited to join. She just invited herself.
Grant found himself faced with the unique challenge of where Elk should sleep. The cabin featured an open floor plan with all the guys dressing in the back area where the bunks were. That wouldn’t work for Elk, so he assigned her the only private room on the north side of the cabin. When he told Elk where she would sleep, she said, “Wherever you put me is fine. None of you weenie waggers have anything I haven’t seen before…but maybe just a smaller version.” With the sleeping arrangements settled, Elk became a full-time camp member.
Loud music playing and gravel spraying announced the arrival of Eddie Koehler. He sang as he exited his brand new black Ford F-150 Lightning pickup. Nobody knew where Eddie got the money to afford it. The door burst open to a favorite Eagles song.
“Well, I’m running down the road trying to loosen my load, I’ve got seven women on my mind. Four that wanna own me, two that wanna stone me, one says she’s a friend of mine.”
“Who would that one friend be, Eddie?” asked Mooch, "The new blackjack dealer in Bangate?”
Eddie smiled and grabbed Elk, lifted her off the ground, and started twirling her around. “You’re my friend aren’t ya Elk?”
“I won’t be your friend much longer if you don’t put me down right now. I’m about to introduce my foot to your lugnuts and you’ll be singing soprano.”
Eddie could always make Elk smile. At age 38, Eddie was a fun-loving single guy. Like Jeff, Eddie had received money from his share of Koehler Iron Works. Unlike Jeff, who invested much of his money in a new home and business, Eddie used it to fuel his fast-moving lifestyle. There were rumors that Eddie owed the casino in nearby Bangate City a lot of money, but nobody knew for sure. Eddie seemed to have lots of money and was known as an eligible “ladies’ man” in the small Michigan community. His dark and handsome looks were marred by a small scar from an old bar fight over his left eye. Eddie always dressed sharply, rarely wearing Levi’s jeans and a flannel shirt like his brother Jeff. For the work bee, he wore a Filson special edition coat that he purchased from Ducks Unlimited. He also sported Carhartt work jeans, an Orvis Waxed Cotton shirt, and LL Bean Maine hunting boots. His clothing looked so snazzy Jeff asked his brother if he planned to work or audition for the role of the next “Marlboro Man.”
Eddie grew to be the tallest brother in the family at 6ft 3in and was definitely the most outgoing. He’d worked at more jobs than Grant or Jeff could remember. Eddie worked as a sales rep for several companies that inevitably went “belly-up” within a few years of his joining. Now he supposedly worked on a venture related to cryptocurrencies. Nobody knew what he did at the firm. Most of what Eddie did involved gambling. He would gamble at casinos, local card games, lottery tickets, etc. If something went on, Eddie could find a way to bet on it. Eddie became the most popular guy in the camp. He worked as hard as anyone, and the camp always was fun with Eddie around.
The work bee started off well with the major task of replenishing the camp supply of firewood. The group fanned out in teams of two, seeking oak or maple treetops from the last logging operation. These tops were now three years old and were perfect for firewood. Before long, the woods echoed with the sound of chainsaws chewing up firewood. The group teased Frenchie when they discovered he hadn’t sharpened his saw and spent the first hour messing with a file and chain before he could get any work done. When Mooch learned that Frenchie had issues, he began taunting him mercilessly.
“Hey, you lazy Frenchman. I knew you would find some excuse to avoid work. Pretending to have issues with your saw is a low point even for you. Maybe we can appoint you the camp water boy so you can drive around in the UTV and fetch water for the real working men.”
“Shut the hell up, Mooch. Once I get my saw tuned, I’ll show you how a real lumberjack cuts wood. I can cut more in two hours than you will do in the entire day. Why don’t you stop jacking your jaws and get out in the woods and pretend to do some work.” And so it went back and forth between Frenchie and Mooch for most of the day.
Grant assigned each of the different groups a general area to cut wood so nobody got in each other’s way. Chet teamed with Mooch and decided he knew a better place on the east side of the property. He ignored Grant’s assignment and did his own thing.
