Craziest Summer Ever

This story is submitted for the Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2023. Please be forewarned: It contains mention of an episode of sexual violence.

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When you are living in the wilderness far from other people, your body starts to change slowly. You sleep better, your strength improves and your sense of contentment climbs. Your senses become more keen, better able to discern tiny changes in your environment. The sense of smell, freed from exhaust fumes and pollution, improves dramatically. You can smell the subtle changes of the seasons; those first few blooms of early spring flowers, the rain approaching on a hot summer day and the musty smell of decaying leaves in the fall. The vision improves so that a tiny speck approaching in the sky is seen well before the details of a hawk or an eagle become apparent. Food tastes better once the bland, mass-produced foods have cleared from your taste buds and you are preparing your food from scratch while using wild herbs and plants for natural seasoning.

Most dramatically, the hearing improves. A tiny breeze tickling the leaves, a splashing brook hundreds of yards away, a screeching hawk high in the sky and even the snorting of a lumbering bear in the woods are all easily heard once the din of traffic, Muzak and twenty-four-hour news reports are relegated to the mind's trash heap.

Jim's hearing picked up the distant vehicle well before it arrived. He could tell from the sound alone the vehicle was ill prepared for the journey. Tires slipped, gravel sprayed, gears ground, the engine whined and water splashed under tires, all telling him the driver and vehicle were clearly ill prepared to tackle the old, rutted forest service road which led up to and just past his summer cabin. As he heard the vehicle approach, he slowly ambled down his gravel driveway towards the road. Eventually, around a bend in the road, came a small, imported truck fishtailing its way up the treacherous road. Jim didn't recognize the vehicle and realized immediately it was ill-suited to drive on this stretch of the road.

Once it reached his driveway, he saw the back of the truck had several boxes but did not appear to be overly full and a quick look at the front wheels confirmed his assumption this was no four-wheel drive truck. 'How could they expect to drive through slush and over a deeply rutted road with a light-weight, two-wheel-drive truck with little weight over the real axle?' he wondered. As the window rolled down, he looked at the cab, surprised to see a young woman with a concerned look on her face staring back at him.

He kept his distance, a wise thing to do when meeting strangers in such circumstances, and nodded to her before speaking, "Afternoon."

"Hello. I, uh, I'm looking for Saul's cabin. Is this it?"

"No, Ma'am. His is the next one, well actually, the last one up the road."

"How much further?"

"Couple hundred yards, but the road is even more wicked up there. I don't think anyone's been through there for over two years."

"I've made it this far and I'm sure I'll make it up there."

"I hope you do too. Uh, I'm Jim and I live here 'bout six months a year."

"Sharon. I may be here for a while."

"Welcome. If I can be of any assistance, give me a holler."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she answered curtly as she rolled up her window and put her truck into gear.

Jim was struck by her rather brusque manner but figured she must have her reasons for being out in the Cascades so far from others. Maybe she was hiding or needed solitude to do work or some such thing. He turned back to his place as his ears listened to her vehicle struggle up the last few hundred yards of the road. He had to hand it to her; she certainly had a lot of nerve to tackle the road with such a poor choice for a truck and come to such a remote spot all by herself.

After listening to the remote sounds of Saul's door opening and closing, he began to smell wood smoke. He figured she must have moved in and started a fire. Later, as it was getting dark, he peered through the forest towards Saul's cabin and could make out a faint light. He lit his own candles and began to prepare his dinner. As he thought about her, he decided he would do the neighborly thing and drop by in the morning with a small batch of cookies baked in a Dutch oven on his wood-burning stove.

The next morning dawned bright but cold. Even though it was late April, there was a deep frost adorning trees and shrubs. He crawled out of bed, put on an extra layer of clothing and relit the fire from some embers still glowing in the fireplace. Fresh coffee and some scrambled eggs made from a freeze-dried package helped warm him before he tackled the cookies. He chose brownies which could be easily mixed and cooked in the Dutch oven over the stove's fire. The smell of mouth-watering, fresh baking soon filled his cabin. Once he let his concoction cool, he divided it into several pieces before slipping them into an old plastic container.

He could hear sounds coming from Saul's cabin throughout the morning but decided to wait until after lunch to walk over there. Around two he picked up his offering and made his way through the woods on a trail to the other cabin. Right as he came out of the woods, he did the wise thing and called out, announcing his presence.

"Hello! Anyone home?"

After a few seconds, she cracked open her door but did not come out onto the tiny porch. "Yes?"

"I'm a bit old fashioned, I guess, and I thought it would be nice to bring some fresh baked goods to my new neighbor," he smiled.

She looked at him warily before responding, "Uh, OK, go ahead and leave them on the porch."

"Sure thing. Like I said yesterday, I'm Jim and if I can be of any assistance, please let me know."

"I'll be fine."

"I'm sure, but as you already know, it's quite a drive into town. Just holler if you need me," he said with a big grin which was met with an icy stare. He turned away muttering about his hard work and scarce chocolate being unappreciated.

A few days later he planned to go 'hunting' with his SLR camera and an attached zoom lens. He made a living doing photography and on that day, he felt the lighting would be particularly nice.

After walking up a path behind his cabin, he climbed higher to where the trail led up to a series of rocky knolls overlooking the cabins and the rest of the upper valley. He walked quietly to avoid startling any wildlife. After taking some pictures of two gold finches building a nest, he climbed higher looking for more wildlife.

He crested a small ridge and almost tripped over Sharon who was behind a rock and bent over a notebook writing furiously. She shrieked in alarm, pulling a bag towards her chest before laying into him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me like that?"

"Taking pictures. Look, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were here and I didn't mean to scare you."

"Then why the fuck were you walking so quietly?"

"Look, like I said, I'm sorry. I'm a photographer and I don't want to scare the wildlife. I'll get out of your way, Jeez!"

"Don't 'Jeez' me. I have every right to be scared."

"I agree, but it seems you don't understand the word 'sorry'. I'll get out of your hair since every animal around has long since gone into hiding."

He stormed down the path, pissed at the woman who didn't even thank him for the cookies and who yelled at him over a simple surprise. "Who the fuck does she think she is?" he muttered, "My dreams of a quiet summer are totally shot now."

Back at his cabin, he pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured himself a couple of fingers. Once the alcohol hit his brain, his mood improved to the point where he could fire up his solar/battery powered lap-top computer and work on some of the images he had taken over the prior week. He tinkered with several pictures and before he knew it, darkness was descending. After a meal, he read for the rest of the evening.

For the next few days, he ignored the neighbor, figuring she didn't want anything to do with him, so why bother? He resumed his photography work but hiked purposefully away from Saul's place to do so. Some of his newer photos were quite nice and he could see some potential for selling them.

One evening as he was about to crash, he heard some footsteps outside. It was particularly odd as they sounded like someone was sneaking around his cabin. In general, he had always felt quite safe at the cabin but this was definitely unusual. With thoughts about his safety running through his mind, he quietly tip-toed over to the fireplace and grabbed his hatchet. He slid down beneath a window between the wall and a sofa to wait. The steps sounded like they went back and forth on his porch a couple of times before stopping at his door. He ignored the faint knocking when he first heard it only to hear more and louder rapping on his door.

With his hatchet held steady on the edge of the sofa, he called out, "Who is it?"

"Uh, Sharon, from next door. May I come in?"

"Anyone else with you?"

"No, just me."

"Open the door slowly and keep your hands where I can see them."

He watched the door ease open and her step into the cabin. She gasped softly upon seeing him holding the hatchet but remained still.

"Close the door behind you."

Once she did, she turned back to him. "Uh, I'm sorry to intrude but I could use some help."

"OK. What?"

"My water doesn't seem to be working anymore and I was hoping you might be able to help me, please?"

"I guess I could look at it. Say, just an FYI. When you approach a cabin or a camp out here in the woods, you stop far away and call out, like I did the other day. Let the person know you're there and won't do them any harm. Otherwise, you might end up on the wrong side of a gun...or a hatchet," he chuckled.

"Uh, OK. I'll remember."

"Tell me more about your water."

"I had water up until this evening when it ended up being only a trickle and now I've got nothing."

"Have you opened the valve to the water line under the sink?"

"Valve?"

"Yeah. Valve. Your water is stream fed and you've probably been using what was in the storage tank and now it's gone."

"Uh, could you maybe show it to me?"

"It's right under the sink. It's the only valve there. Turn it ninety degrees and you should be good."

"Oh, OK."

"If it doesn't work, let me know."

"Thanks," she said as she turned to go.

Jim was pleased to hear she at least knew the word 'thanks.' About twenty minutes later she was back but this time calling out from a distance.

"Hello?"

He went to the door and invited her in. "What's up?"

"I found the valve but I can't turn it. Seems stuck. Would you have any ideas how to fix it?"

"Must have rusted in place or something. Hasn't been used since the summer before last. If you want, I can come over and check it out."

"If it wouldn't be too much of a bother."

"You know, I've heard it's illegal to ignore a stranded car in Alaska in the winter. Someone might freeze to death otherwise. We're kinda in the same situation. We're all we got and we should help each other, so sure, show the way."

He grabbed his tool kit and followed her down the darkened trail to her place. Inside he found it to be surprisingly cozy. There were a few photos of her and some others on the kitchen table, the fire was keeping the room warm and candles kept it lit.

"It's over here," she pointed.

"Great. Uh, flashlight?"

"Right there inside the cupboard door."

Jim lay down, reached the valve and gave it a firm tug, and another and finally a third. "You're right, seems stuck. I'll tap it with a hammer to see if it will loosen."

"Don't break it!"

He looked up at her with exasperation. "Trust me, will you? I have no intention of forcing things. I'll tap it, I said."

She mumbled a bit and waited. The tapping didn't seem to loosen anything at all. Jim thought about things a few seconds and asked, "Do you have any water you could heat up?"

"Yeah, right there in the kettle. But it's the last of my water," she answered curtly.

"Look, heat it up and bring it to me with a towel. By the way, if you don't like the way I'm working here, you could haul your water from the creek."

"No need to get snarky with me!"

"Snarky? Me? Look, I don't know what your problem is but it's making me less than thrilled to interact with you. Do you want my help or not?"

A few tears slid down her cheeks as she sniffed and nodded 'yes'.

"OK, here's what I wanna try. Let's get a bucket below and pour hot water onto the valve. I'm hoping it will expand the pipe a little and let it loosen the valve inside."

Once it was set up, she handed him the kettle and he poured the hot water while intermittently tapping the pipe and valve. Eventually, he grabbed the valve and gave it a gentle tug. It gave way to the sound of water pouring into the reserve tank.

"There you go. Problem solved," he said as he stood up. "Now I'll get out of your hair. Got a long day tomorrow."

"I, uh, I want to thank you for helping out and I apologize for my comment earlier."

"Sure, forget about it. See you around. Oh, by the way, I'll be gone to town tomorrow in case you're wondering."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"Need anything?"

"No, I'll be going in myself in a week or so."

"Eh, about that. Your truck isn't really designed for this road, you know. The less you drive it, the better off you'll be."

That seemed to set her off again.

"Look, I can take care of myself, well, except for this valve thing, and I don't need you telling me what to do."

"OK," he said as he put his hands up in front of him as if hold her back. "I'll mind my own business. Good bye."

He stomped out of the cabin, remembered his tool kit, went back in, grabbed it without saying a word to her and left as quickly as possible.

'Man, she's sure bitchy, even when I help her. And refuses to accept me getting her something from the store. I'm staying away from her as much as possible.'

The next morning as he was ready to drive into town, he heard her holler as she approached the cabin. He opened the door slightly and looked down at her.

"Yes?"

"I hate to impose, but there is something I could use in town."

"You sure you don't want to drive there yourself? I mean, you told me you could take care of yourself."

"Jesus, do you have to be such a prick? You offered to help and now..."

"And now I might remind you that you basically told me to get lost and you could do it all yourself when I offered to help. Quite frankly, each of our interactions has been less than pleasant, if you ask me. I was trying to be nice and got shut down every time. So, I am getting less inclined to help my neighbor by the day."

"OK, look. I won't try to explain but I'm having some problems..."

'I'll say,' he thought to himself.

"...and it involves a man. I guess I have trust issues when it comes to men."

"OK. Then let's get something straight. Whoever this man is, was, well, I'm not him. Got that? I'm just me, a guy who takes photos for a living and lives close to the ground. I'm not some hot shot big city guy who bosses people, particularly women, around. So, let's get something else straight. You can trust me but I expect to be treated decently in return. OK?"

"OK," came the soft reply.

"Alright. Now, you said you needed something in town?"

"Yes, please. I need some tampons."

Jim stared at her with shock in his face. Tampons? She wanted him to buy her tampons. What the...? "Uh, brand, size, number, color? You gotta be a little more specific."

"I need two boxes of FemGal tampons, regular size. In a pink box."

"Two pink boxes of FemGals. Got it. Anything else?"

"Uh, well, maybe a bottle of wine."

"What kind?"

"Whatever you like."

"Why?"

"Uh, to thank you and maybe apologize..."

"Not needed. Uh, look. Why don't you come with me? You can get what you need and I won't have to be embarrassed buying tampons. They'll give me shit about it; I just know it."

"They know you there?"

"Uh, yeah. It's my third summer here and Betty seems to think I'm the one for her. If I buy tampons, she may come out here looking for her competition."

"Wouldn't she do that if I show up?"

"Nah. I'll tell them you're at Saul's and your truck is a piece of shit and you chose..."

"My truck is not a piece of shit!"

"Sharon, your truck is a certifiable P.O.S. out here. In the big city, well, it should be OK but not here. Look, make a list of what you need, hop in and we'll do a big shopping trip."

"OK, give me a few minutes."

A short while later they were on the road. Sharon leaned up against her door and held her arms defensively across her chest while Jim concentrated on his driving. He was aware of her body language but decided to let it go. He tried to engage in a little conversation but with minimal success.

In town he drove first to the hardware store. He got out while she remained in the rig and once he'd finished there, he drove them to the grocery store. Fortunately, Betty was not working that day. The two split up, each taking a cart and working their way around the store. He was surprised to see how much she had bought but kept his mouth closed. She checked out in front of him and he sensed she was nervous about something at the checkout counter. Her card was processed without trouble before she bagged her food and headed out to the truck.

Jim also had purchased quite a bit of food and supplies and as he was checking out, the teen-aged clerk mentioned Betty would surely be sorry she missed him.

"Tell Betty 'Hi' for me, would you? But between you and me, I'm not interested."

"In that case," she batted her eyes, "You could ask me out."

"Uh, sorry, you're nice but I don't see it happening. You're too young for me, anyway."

"What? I'm nineteen and old enough."

"Old enough for some guys but too young for me. Sorry."

"Oh well," she giggled, "It never hurts to ask. Have a good day and thank you for shopping at The Food Bin."

"You bet. Not like you have a lot of competition out here, is there? See you next time," he laughed.

On the way back Jim kept thinking about Betty and the young clerk. Both were living in a tiny town deep in the Cascades where there wasn't much going on. He figured they were both desperate to get out of there and were somehow hoping he could provide them a lifeline.

Further up the road he got to thinking about Sharon. She was a real puzzle. Attractive and apparently available but, man, did she have an attitude. It seemed almost anything he did set her off before she would back-track and offer a sort-of-apology. With some trepidation, he decided to ask her what was going on.

"Get what you need?"

"Yeah. Didn't have my brand of tampons, though."

"Boy, am I glad I didn't have to wing it by myself. I'm sure I would have purchased the wrong ones."

"Probably. Maybe you could have asked that cute little checker to help you out."

"Oh, God, no! She basically wants to go out with me and I'm sure she'd have picked the worst brand to piss you off so she'd have a chance with me."

"Does she?"

"Does she what?"

"Have a chance."

"No, please. She's waaay too young for me and I think she's looking for a way to get out of town. I'm happy with my situation right now. No worries, no women and, well, no money, either."

"How'd you buy groceries?"

"Oh, I have some spending money but nothing big. I'll need to get a whole new portfolio to my agent and get some sales generated before I can do that."

"I see."

"Uh, Sharon," he spoke after a few minutes, "Are you, uh, OK? I mean, are you in any trouble or anything?"