The Adventures of Ranger Ramona Ch. 02

The vacation community that lined Merganser Pond looked like something from a fairy tale. The houses and trees could have been built of snow. As Ramona made her way around the pond, the only signs of life she saw were a trio of crows on the power line and a set of fox tracks along the edge of the road.

She stopped in front of Isabel's house. Damn, I miss her, she thought. They had made plans for a long weekend together in Montreal, but that was still more than a month away. For a moment, she considered getting out of the jeep and walking up the long driveway. She wasn't sure why, it just seemed like it would be nice to be in her place, if only for a moment or two. But it was so damn cold, and she'd probably feel like a fool standing outside the house shivering in the snow.

She drove to the boat launch and looked out over the pond. As she had expected, the snow was undisturbed on the ice. If the wind blew more of it clear though, someone might chance it, so she made a mental note to check again later in the day.

Martha had said that the power company thought their lines were down around Blackshaw Hill. If that was the case, she reasoned, there is probably more storm damage around that area than elsewhere. She had noted in the past that the hill's slope often seemed particularly windy. Piney would be proud of her for knowing where it is windiest, she thought.

There were a few dead branches in the road on the south slope, and she was able to pick them up and toss them to the shoulder. In other places, heavily laden tree limbs sagged low over the road, but had not broken. She saw no major damage.

As she rounded the bend to the western slope, there was more evidence of the storm. A few trees were down near the road but not intruding on it. There were a some tire tracks in the snow, so evidently traffic had been getting through.

She neared the power lines and saw yellow lights flashing up ahead. A CMP truck was parked just off the road. A line worker hopped out and waved to her as she pulled up.

"Mornin' ranger," he said when she had put down her window. "Glad you stopped by, I was going to call in to your station, but got busy and haven't had time."

"What's up?"

"Something I wanted you to see."

Ramona got out of the jeep. "How's it going up here?" she asked.

"We ought to have her up and running in another hour or two."

The power lines ran along the center of a cleared strip of land, about fifty yards wide, that went up and over the crest of the hill.

"Over this way," the lineman said, motioning for Ramona to follow him. They trudged along the western side of the power corridor for about a hundred paces. A pair of ravens burst from the snow drift ahead of them and flew off, cawing loudly.

"Wasn't for the birds, we'd not have seen it," the lineman said.

Ramona walked over to where the ravens had taken flight. She saw a bobcat, its hind legs gripped in a steel spring trap. She tapped it with her foot, and when it did not move, squatted down beside it. It was dead, half frozen. The snow beneath it was stained with blood.

"It's dead, right?" the lineman asked.

"Sure is."

"I hate to see something like that, is that legal?"

Ramona stood and looked down at the dead cat. "It's legal. Season runs till the end of the year."

"Goddamn shame. Beautiful animal like that. Sorry to have bothered you."

"That's alright. Thanks for looking out. And thanks for all your hard work getting the lights back on."

She walked down to her jeep and got in, turning the heat to full. She wasn't fond of trapping, but people were going to do it, legally or otherwise. With that thought, she made a mental note to check the tree line along the wires after the holidays. If whoever had set the trap continued to do so out of season, there was something she could do about that.

Before she had gone very far, her radio squawked. "Hey, Ramona," Martha said, "We got a call from up on Porcupine Ridge. Snowmobiler went off the road. Says he called 911 and they told him, 'so walk home'. Think you can lend him a hand?"

"Sure," she said, although she generally avoided the ridge, even in good weather. She hadn't spoken to Aaron Haines since the night he stormed out of the Alibi Saloon, and she didn't want to run into him.

"Great. He's about a half mile in on the eastern end."

Ramona drove to the bottom of the ridge road, switched to four wheel drive and started to climb. She did not need to look for the snowmobiler, his tracks were still visible and led her straight to him.

He was standing on the side of the road, waving to her. Next to him, Ramona saw the break in the snowbank he had gone through. She put the jeep in park, got out and looked down the slope. The snowmobile was half buried in snow about thirty feet down. It had come to a stop just a few yards short of a large stand of birch trees.

"Jeezum," she said, "You had a close call."

The man rubbed his mittens together. "Yeah, guess I did. Goin' a smidge too fast, maybe."

"Maybe, huh?"

He stomped snow from his boots and chuckled. "Yeah. Guess so. Anyway, thanks for coming by."

"We're here to help," she said. She got back in the jeep and turned it around, slowly edging the rear end toward the drop off. When she got in place, she opened the back and got out her tow rope. She tied one end to the trailer hitch, then held the coil out toward the man. He looked at it for a minute without taking it.

"Well," Ramona said, "You don't expect me to climb down there, do you?"

He looked at the snowmobile. "It's wicked steep," he muttered.

"You climbed up, didn't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Down is easier."

He sighed, took the rope and carefully stepped over the bank. He slipped after about ten steps down the slope, but slid right to the back of his snowmobile. He tied the rope to it, gave it a tug to make sure it was secure, and started to climb back up. He fell to his knees on his second step and proceeded to crawl on all fours.

Ramona shook her head. "Use the rope, bub," she called.

He looked up at her for a minute, then understood her instruction and pulled himself to his feet and gripping the rope hand over hand, made his way up the slope. When he was close enough, Ramona grabbed his arm and helped him over the snowbank.

She got back into the jeep and drove slowly forward. The engine revved at the strain of its tow load, but rolled steadily until the snowmobile reached the top and burrowed into the bank. Ramona opened the door and looked behind her. The vehicle's owner was tugging at one of the skids, trying to pull it free.

"Stand back," Ramona shouted. When he stepped clear, she dropped the jeep into low gear and punched the gas. Her tires spun in the snow for a moment, then she lurched forward and the snowmobile broke through, slamming down on the road with a loud thump.

"Jeezum, that was rough!" the man shouted at Ramona as she got out of the jeep.

"If you want, I can put her back down," she said, untying the rope.

"No, no," he said, "I just hope it didn't take no damage."

"Well, if there's damage," Ramona replied, "I'd say it's because you drove off the side of a bluff, not because I hauled her up."

He shrugged. "I guess so. Well, thanks."

Ramona nodded, tipped her hat and got back in the jeep. That dubber is going to get back on and speed away just as fast as he was going when he went over, she thought as she drove off.

As she neared Aaron's homestead, she could not help feeling a desire to stop and talk to him. He'd had three months to get used to the idea that she didn't want an exclusive relationship with him, or anyone else. Maybe he had second thoughts about not wanting to see her. And she really did wish she could be with him again. She still thought about him frequently. Admit it, she thought, he's still your favorite fantasy when you masturbate.

She slowed to a crawl when she neared the bottom of his driveway. She could hear the sound of an engine and put down her window. Chainsaw. Looking up the drive, she saw that a large pine had fallen across it. Aaron was behind the downed tree, trimming off branches. She stopped and watched him for a minute. If he knew she was there, he gave no indication of it. She thought about getting out and helping him, but hesitated. He was fully fitted in his winter gear, but the sight of him at work reminded her of how he looked on the day of the forest fire. He was working on a log then, wearing only a pair of cutoffs and his work boots. His skin was glistening with sweat. That had been the last time they'd been together.

"Yeah," she muttered to herself, "And he fucked the shit of you." She sighed, put the jeep in park and got out.

She took the chainsaw from the back of the jeep and trudged up the driveway. The snow came nearly to her knees. She was halfway to the fallen tree when the sound of his chainsaw stopped. For a second, she thought he must have someone helping him, but realized that she was hearing the buzz of his electric generator.

He silently watched her approach.

"Thought I'd stop and give you a hand," she said.

"Thanks. I want to clear these branches, then take off the top. After that, I think I can drag it clear with my truck."

"Sounds like a plan."

Ramona started her saw, and the two of them began working, he on the uphill side of the tree, she on the downhill, and quickly cut off all the protruding branches. Aaron then cut through the truck, parallel to the edge of his driveway, while Ramona gathered the sawn off branches and piled them to the side.

Aaron stood back and studied the tree truck. After a moment he said, "Alright, I'll bring down the Expedition." Ramona was starting to feel the cold. She danced from foot to foot as she watched him climb into his SUV and back it down to the tree.

She watched him take a heavy length of chain from the back of the SUV, wrap it around the trunk and hook it to his vehicle. He probably would have dropped that dubber's snowmobile back down the ravine for complaining, she thought, grinning.

Aaron got back in the SUV and drove forward until the chains drew taut. The tree trunk moved a few inches, but then his wheels began to spin and shoot plumes of snow into the air. He backed up a few feet and tried again, but with no more success.

Ramona trotted down the hill to her jeep. She started it, put it into four wheel drive, and drove up to the tree. She touched her bumper to the trunk, then backed away. She nudged it again, and repeated the maneuver. With the snow packed down under her tires, she held her arm out the window and gestured for Aaron to pull forward. When she heard his engine rev, she stepped on the gas.

The trunk moved a few inches before she lost traction, but that was enough. Aaron managed to keep it moving. Ramona shifted into reverse, in case it broke free and rolled back, but he succeeded in towing it clear of the driveway.

I should just wave and go, she thought, but Aaron shut off the Expedition and waved his arm, gesturing for her to come forward.

She pulled up next to him and rolled down her window.

"Thanks, Ramona," he said, "I've got a pot of venison stew simmering on the stove. Why not come in, have a bowl and warm up?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Aaron."

"Come on, Ramona. I just want to thank you for your help. I'm not going to try anything, if that's what you are worried about."

"I'm not worried. I've got bear spray in my pocket."

"You'd use it, wouldn't you?"

"If I had to. I don't think I will, though."

"So, come on in." He turned toward the house and Ramona followed him.

It was warm in Aaron's house and the stew smelled delicious. Ramona took off her hat and parka and sat down at the kitchen table. Aaron poured them each a cup of coffee, then dished out two steaming bowls of stew.

She thanked him and dug in. The stew tasted as good as it smelled. She had eaten half of the bowl before Aaron spoke again.

"It's nice to see you, Ramona," he said, "I've missed you."

"You can call me anytime, Aaron."

"I wasn't sure about that."

"I told you, it was your choice to make."

"You still seeing the delivery guy?"

"Why do you say 'delivery guy' like it's an insult?"

"Sorry."

"Yes, we still see each other. But, like I said, I'm not interested in a serious relationship."

"And what about your, um, girlfriend?"

"I'd never think of Isabel as my girlfriend," she said, laughing. "Anyway, she's in Montreal for the winter."

Aaron snorted. "Who goes to Canada for the winter?"

"Canadians?"

"I'm coming off kind of confrontational, aren't I?" Aaron asked, setting down his spoon.

Ramona ate the last of her stew. "A little bit, yeah."

"I don't mean to. I'd really like the two of us to get back to a better place."

"You mean back to fucking?"

Aaron blushed. "I sure wouldn't mind that."

Ramona sighed. "I wouldn't mind either. But you have to accept me for who I am."

"Fair enough." Ramona noticed his eyes shifted toward his bed. She wondered if he was even conscious that he had done so.

"Thanks for the stew," she said, "It was delicious. I need to get back on patrol."

They stood and Aaron walked her to the door. She pulled on her parka and picked up her hat.

"So, I guess I'll give you a call," Aaron said. He lifted his arms as if to hug her, then dropped them again and stuck his hands in his pants pockets.

"Yeah, okay," she said with a nod, "Call me, we'll talk some more."

She noticed that he grimaced when she said it, but she did not tell him that she had. Talking wasn't what he was interested in.

She walked out and got back in her jeep. As she crept down the slippery driveway and back onto the road, she felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment. When he had lifted his arms to her, she thought she might fall into them, and let him carry her to his bed. But when she saw that grimace, she wanted to knee him in the balls.

She sighed and spoke aloud to herself. "The hottest guy in the valley wants to fuck me, but the hottest guy in the valley is an asshole."

She drove by Merganser Pond on her way back to Saw Whet, and it was still free of ice fishermen. She cruised the back roads for a while and passed a line of coyotes trotting single file down the Greenville Road. Near the Mount McGregor trail head, a young couple were on their roof, shoveling off the heavy load of snow. She stopped and called to them, asking if they needed help, but they smiled and waved and said they were alright.

It was nearly dark when she got back to town. As she turned on to Main Street, the lights came on. Suddenly the cold and forlorn landscape seemed warm and welcoming. She checked in at the station, then drove home.

CHAPTER THREE

Ramona filled her gas tank and bought a bag of pretzels and a large soda at the Citgo station in Coburn Gore, then crossed the border. When the Canadian customs officers saw the Forest Service decal on her windshield, they passed her through with a smile and a wave.

The sky was the bright crystal blue that only comes on cold winter days. Ramona put on her sunglasses to counter the glare of the sun on the snowy fields. Another three hours or so of driving, and she'd make Montreal. Then...well, who knew? When Isabel was involved, she never knew what to expect.

Winter duty had been long, dreary and dull. Even the holidays offered little relief from the tedium. January did not appear to be offering much, either.

Piney had graciously agreed to cover both Christmas Eve and Christmas so that she could visit her family. After all, he reasoned, there probably wouldn't be any calls, and he could just stay home unless something came in. Ramona was grateful for his generosity, but Christmas was gray and rainy, and spending part of it with her mother and her family, and the rest with her father and his new girlfriend, was far from festive. Ramona thought that she'd have rather asked Piney if she could celebrate with his family back in Saw Whet.

The highway across southern Quebec was straight and flat, through a landscape of bare trees and snowy fields. She stopped in Sherbrooke to stretch her legs and get a sandwich. Hearing others in the store speaking French brought a smile to her face. In another hour and a half she would be in Montreal, les ville des saints, Isabel had called it, the city of saints. Somehow, she was not expecting much saintly behavior on her long weekend.

As she approached the outskirts of the city, she began to feel anxious. She was not accustomed to heavy urban traffic and she had no knowledge of the city. But she had entered Isabel's address in her GPS before she left Sherbrooke and it guided her through the busy streets until she was in front of a large brick building that looked like it had once been a factory.

She found a parking space a half block away, took her bags from behind her seat and walked to the entrance, half expecting to encounter a uniformed doorman. But there was no one there, and she entered into a small, glass enclosed foyer. The wall to her left was lined with mailboxes, each with a white call button. She found 701 and pressed it.

She heard Isabel's voice emerge from the tiny speaker a few seconds later.

"Ramona!"

"Yes, it's me."

"I know, cherie. There is a camera."

Reflexively, Ramona looked around for the camera, but could not see it.

"Are you going to let me in?" she asked.

"Into my home and my heart and my pants," Isabel said, as the door buzzed.

Ramona entered the wood paneled lobby. A huge fern stood in one corner. There was an open elevator on the far wall. She stepped in and pushed seven.

Isabel was leaning in her doorway when the elevator opened. She was wearing a lacy white crop top and a pair of burgundy sweat pants hung low on her hips. She waited in silence while Ramona stepped off the elevator, crossed the hall to her and set down her bags.

They gazed at each other for a moment, then Ramona put her hands on Isabel's hips. Isabel draped her arms over Ramona's shoulders and their lips met in a long, tender kiss.

"Your neighbors may be watching us," Ramona whispered.

"Oh, they have seen much more than this," Isabel said, smiling. She led Ramona into her apartment, closing the door behind them.

Ramona looked around the front hallway and living room of the apartment while Isabel hung up her coat. She had expected something similar to the Cape Cod style of her Maine summer house, and was surprised when she saw how modern Isabel's apartment was. The furniture was all contemporary and the room was bright and sunny with light streaming in from tall windows that ran the length of two sides of the living room and opened to a magnificent view of the city skyline.

"This is beautiful," Ramona said, "What a lovely apartment."

"Thank you, my dear, I think it reflects my taste much more than the house in Maine. Although, of course, I have many sides, non?"

Ramona walked around the room, taking in the modern art on the walls and the vases of fresh flowers on the tables. She looked into a dining alcove and a small modern kitchen beyond it.

"Come, mon cherie," Isabel said, dropping on to a plush leather sofa. Ramona sat down beside her and leaned her head against her shoulder.

"How was your drive, dear girl? Weather was fine, I assume?"

"Oh yeah, it was good. Kind of a boring drive, though."

"Oui. But we will have an exciting time now that you are here." Isabel kissed Ramona on her temple. Ramona turned her head and Isabel kissed her lips, her tongue slipping into her mouth. They sat and tenderly kissed for a while, then Ramona leaned back.

"I really have to pee," she said.

"It is right over there, Isabel said, pointing to a hallway across the room. "It is on the left. Go to the right and you will be in my boudoir...a bit soon, I suppose."