GRILL!: The Misadventures of an RV Park Fast-Fry Cook. Diane Stegman

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      “Cool! Billy is really a neat lady. She offered this job to me. I’ve been here on and off for a couple of years. Billy has really saved my butt many times.”

      “Well, I better get on the road. Hopefully I’ll see you later.” I say as I exit the stall.

      Ruby follows me to my car. Bonita and Bandito start barking at the approaching stranger.

      “Cool! You got puppies!” Ruby is at the car window rubbing Bonita’s head. Bandito has jumped into the back and is barking angrily, as if he was insulted.

      “They’re not really puppies. They’re actually about ten years old, just Chihuahua mixes.”

      “I love dogs! Have a new one-year old Shepherd mix. Maybe after you start working here you can come out to my place and we’ll let the dogs play together. I’m just down the road ‘bout ten miles. My cabin sits right next to Bud’s Creek.”

      “That sounds fun. We’ll see how it goes. By the way, where is Bud’s Creek?” I ask.

      “What do ya mean? This is Bud’s creek. Oh, I get it. Ya mean where is the creek itself.”

      “Yeh, the creek itself. How do I get to it?”

      “Any side dirt road ya see off the highway. It runs ‘long side it for miles.”

      “Great! I’ll have to stop and check it out on my way to Brandon. Thanks and nice meeting you. Bye Ruby. Bye Brenda!” I had to shout to Brenda. She was standing by the restroom wall watching us. She waves back lazily. As I get in the car the musty odor makes me aware of all the damp camping items that need to be air-dried. Perhaps I can do this on the picnic tables when I return tomorrow.

      It’s about 10:30 and the dogs need to get out for a while, so I decide to find a dirt road off the highway on my way to a motel in Brandon and check out Bud’s Creek. I hadn’t really noticed all the campsite turnoffs before on my way to and from Hacienda. I guess I had a lot on my mind. I pick a turn off after about five miles and pull into the dirt entry. I see one car in the dirt lot, but no one is around. The dogs are excited and know they are about to get out of the car. I leash them up with their extending leashes that give them sixteen feet to explore and feel like wild animals. I can hear the creek roaring beyond the tree line and we walk towards it.

      The water is running strong and clear from the winter snow melt off. As I stare at it, it washes away my stress and worries. It is quite beautiful and peaceful. I see a man some hundred yards down the creek fishing. Two empty ‘Bud’ cans float near the shore. An empty pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a worm container sit near a rock a few feet away. I laugh to myself thinking about the true meaning of Bud’s Creek. I pick up the trash and put it in the plastic poop bags I always carry on walks. We wander the creek’s edge for about half an hour. I fill up a second poop bag.

      “You must be fishing for mountain lion,” a deep voice says. The man I had seen fishing was now approaching us. The sudden sound of his voice startles me.

      “Oh, fishing for mountain lion?” I question.

      “That’s a good idea using Chihuahuas as bait. I really like your fishing reels.” Bonita and Bandito were currently deep under a bush looking for a lizard. All that was visible were the two thin black lines from their retractable leashes. We both start laughing and end up chatting for a few minutes until he wanders up the creek in search of a better fishing spot.

      Suddenly I become aware of a burning pain on the back of my neck. I reach back to feel the tender hard lump of the mosquito bite. I remember I have some tea tree oil somewhere in the car and am happy to know my favorite ‘cure-all’ will come in handy.

      We hop in the car to head for Brandon to find a place to stay and replenish the supplies—ice, juice, fruit, and a can of chicken for the dogs. I just ran out of the boiled chicken and brown rice mixture I have prepared for them for ten years.

      All routines that I have created for at least the past ten years have been broken the moment I got in the car and left Ashland.

       Chapter Two

      The town of Brandon is more substantial in size than anything I have seen since leaving Ashland. I drive the entire length of it just to see what would be available to me thirty miles away from my new job. The mile-long strip of commercial buildings seems to have all the regular places to fulfill my needs—Safeway, Rite Aid, hardware store, motels, restaurants, thrift store, and drive-through coffee. I run into Safeway to get the few things I need at the moment, then head back to the motel called White Fences that I had spotted at the beginning of town, with a sign below that said, “Small pets welcome”.

      It took me awhile to get to, and unload the few things I would want for the night. I find my tea tree oil and dab it on my neck, which really hurts. I feed the dogs and take them for a long walk through town. The sun is setting as I put the dogs back into the room and walk across the street to a restaurant for a nice dinner.

      Upon returning to my room, I sit and count the money I have left from my original $400, which is $180. This is only my second night on the road! I’d never last! Let me think: gas—$80, campsite—$20, breakfast—$10, this room—$65, dinner—$20, Safeway—$25.

      I pick up the phone to call Billy.

      “Hi Billy, this is Denise. I’ve decided to take you up on the job offer.”

      “Of course you have! I never thought that ya wouldn’t.” Billy replied matter-of-factly.

      “Listen, Billy, I’m really just on a working vacation, so to speak. I can only promise you that I’ll stay for the summer. I’m headed south after that to be near my parents and family.”

      “I understand and that’s fine. You just stay long enough so that Ray and I can take a vacation for the first time in seven years and we’ll all be happy.”

      “Billy? There are only two things that could make me leave, because I am a woman of my word and a darn good hard worker. First, if my parents, who are in their eighties, get ill and need my help; and secondly, if I am no longer happy there. You see Billy; I really need to be happy right now.” I’m surprised at how easy the truth comes out of me when speaking to Billy.

      “Oh you’ll be happy, I’ll see to it! You just come on by in the morning. I’ll give ya the keys—one to the fifth wheel, and one to the restroom. Even though the fifth wheel has a bathroom, we need to straighten out a few things in there first; it’s been sittin’ empty for a spell, so ya might need to use the facilities in the park for a day or so. You just get yourself settled in for the day and we’ll start to work day after tomorrow.” We each hang up the phone relieved.

      By this time, Bonita and Bandito are both cozy under the covers. I think I’ve stressed them out a bit. I climb into bed myself and fall sound asleep.

      After a nice long hot shower in the morning I pack up, walk the dogs, and head straight to the drive-thru coffee place to prepare for my drive back to Hacienda. With the pressure of being homeless lifted and the caffeine pumping through my veins, my eyes are opened and I am able to take in the beauty of the national park. “We’re going to have lots and lots of fun walks, you guys.” Bonita and Bandito are listening СКАЧАТЬ