The Adventures of Ranger Ramona Ch. 01

"We don't generally roust unauthorized campers unless the property owner complains, but we like to keep an eye on them, make sure they don't get out of hand, or leave their fires unattended, that sort of thing."

They came around a bend and Piney slammed on the brakes. The roadbed was covered with water. He got out and stepped to the edge of the flooded area and looked around.

Ramona joined hm. "Beavers?" she asked.

"Yep." He unclipped his radio from his belt and contacted the station.

"If it ain't an emergency, best to just call it in and have a game warden sent out," he said. Martha answered his call and he reported the flooding, then stepped forward a few feet into the water.

"Don't look to be more than a couple of inches, and it's still." They got back into the jeep and he drove cautiously through the flooded section. "Never drive through moving water," he told Ramona.

They snaked their way through the woods and past a few scattered houses until they reached Merganser Pond. A jumble of vacation homes, ranging from sprawling country houses to one room fishing shacks, lined the southern shore of the pond.

"These are mostly empty now, but come summer, they will be full, and we'll get more frickin' calls from out here than anywhere else. Damn rich flatlanders will call a ranger if they smell a skunk. Hell, I had one call up, all hysterical, because there was a barred owl in their tree. They were afraid it would carry off their child. The kid was about ten."

They rounded the pond. The land rose steeply as they climbed the western end of Porcupine Ridge. "Not much up this way except a few homesteads and woodlots," Piney said, "But it's important to stay in touch with folks in these remote areas, because they are another set of eyes and ears for us."

He slowed and turned into a steep, deeply rutted driveway, shifting into low gear to make the climb.

"Thought we'd check in with Aaron Haines while we are up here," he explained.

They crested the hill and emerged into a clearing. A large log house stood at the far end. From somewhere nearby, Ramona could hear the familiar buzz of a chainsaw.

"There's Aaron, now," Piney said, gesturing to his left.

Ramona's view was blocked until they stopped and she climbed out of the jeep, but when she walked around it and looked to where Piney had pointed, her breath nearly caught in her throat.

Jeezum crow, its Paul Bunyan, she thought. Aaron Haines stood well over six feet tall, and appeared to be made of solid muscle. He had been sawing down a stand of puckerbrush at the edge of the clearing. The chainsaw looked like a toy in his hands.

He turned off the saw and put it down. After waving to Piney, he made eye contact with Ramona. His long hair and full, but neat, beard were jet black, his eyes nearly as dark. He was wearing a tight fitting tank top, and as he walked toward them, Ramona had to make a conscious decision to stop starting at his bulging biceps.

There were a pair of large sawhorses standing side by side in the yard. Piney leaned back against one and crossed his arms while they waited for Aaron to reach them. When he did, he patted Piney on the shoulder and reached his hand out to Ramona.

"You must be the new ranger we've been waiting for," he said, showing a toothy smile as they shook.

"Yes," she said, almost stammering, "Ramona Greentree."

"I was just telling Ranger Greentree," Piney piped in, "How important it is for us to keep in close contact with folks in the more remote areas, that you all are extra eyes and ears on things for us."

"That's right," Aaron said. For the moment, his eyes were on Ramona. "I like to stay in contact. But I hope if I call in I can ask for Ramona, not Ranger Greentree."

Ramona blushed and nodded. "Of course," she said, "That's fine."

"Speaking of that," Aaron said, turning to Piney, "I heard some gun shots the other night, sounded like they were coming from up around Blackshaw Hill."

"Shooting coyotes, most likely," Piney said, scratching his head.

"More likely than wolves," Aaron said with a laugh, "Despite what Hank McLellan tells you."

Piney grinned. "Well, Ramona got her first earful from him this morning."

Aaron smiled and nodded at her. "Well, you've been initiated then, ranger."

"So, you were clearing the trail head when we pulled in?" Piney asked Aaron.

"Yes sir," he replied. He leaned forward with his hands on the second sawhorse while they talked. "There's a branch trail here that runs up to the main Mount McGregor trail," he explained to Ramona, "It needs to be kept clear because every season, a few parties of hikers takes a wrong turn and ends up here instead of the Stone House."

"Stone House?" Ramona asked.

"The Stone House sits atop Mount McGregor," Piney told her, "It's a popular spot to hike to, because it's got a view in every direction."

"If you'd like, I'll hike up there with you sometime," Aaron said.

"That's a good idea," Piney said, "You ought to know these trails."

Ramona nearly missed the invitation. She was picturing herself bent over the sawhorse in front of Aaron. Shaking the image from her mind, she said, "Sure, yeah, that would be great."

"Well, then, we'll let you get back to work, Aaron," Piney said.

"Stop by any time," Aaron replied, looking not at Piney, but at Ramona. "Nice meeting you, ranger," he said to her.

"You as well," she said.

Piney turned toward the jeep and Ramona followed him. Just before she reached it, she looked quickly over her shoulder. He's checking out my ass, she thought. Fair enough, I was sure checked out him.

From Aaron's place they drove along the ridge. The sky was a bright blue, and where the land dropped away from the side of the road, the view of the valley was breathtaking. Ramona smiled when she thought of it as being, as Piney said, their territory.

The eastern end of the ridge was a rougher ride than the western. The road narrowed, and in some spots it seemed as if the woods were about to swallow it. Several times, Piney had to slow to a crawl as they bumped over deep ruts the spring melt had carved into the roadbed. But the land soon flattened, and they emerged on to a paved road. Piney turned left and, a mile along, Ramona saw the sign for Headwaters State Park.

"The main reason we are stationed up here at the end of the earth," Piney said as they drove up to the park gate and got out of the jeep. He extended the keys that hung from a retractable chain on his belt, unlocked the gate, and pushed it open.

"I should get one of those key things," Ramona said as he climbed back into the jeep.

"You should worry about getting the keys first," he replied, grinning.

The park road wound for a hundred yards, then emerged into a wide, paved parking area. There was a bull moose standing in the center of it. Piney braked suddenly, put the jeep in reverse and began to slowly back away, but the moose merely stared at them for a minute, then sauntered to the far side of the lot, where a marshy pond bordered the pavement.

"Close as I like to get to a big bull," Piney said.

The moose lowered himself into the pond, causing a dozen or more wood ducks to scatter in a flash of purple and iridescent green. With the parking lot clear, Piney pulled forward and gave Ramona a tour of the park roads. He showed her the picnic area, the scattered small campgrounds and the boat launch. The narrow dirt road skirted the top of a bluff, and Ramona could see the Wiscapasett flowing slowing below them.

"Lot of canoers and kayakers come through here," Piney told her. "The major portion of the park is on the other side of the 'Passett, and there's only a couple of fire roads that go up that way. One of 'em has a wood plank bridge, the other you only get to by a ford over a shallow part of the river. Still, every summer. at least a couple of fools try to cross it in their city cars and we have to fish them out. You'll get used to calling Hiram Fowles for a tow truck. Always some flatlander stuck in the river, or the mud or the snow."

They completed their tour of the park, then drove back to the highway and the little town of Reed's Corner. Ramona scarcely though it qualified as a village, let alone a town. The entire community consisted of a few rambling old farm houses, a dozen doublewides, the Reed's Corner General Store and Fowles Garage.

Piney pulled in at the store and smiled. "Time for lunch," he said with a big smile.

"Here?"

"Oh, yeah."

The wooden floors creaked as they entered the store and walked down the narrow aisles of canned goods and brightly colored packages of snack food to the back of the store. A small, wiry man stood behind a glass counter, cooking at a grill. There was a seating area with a few tables, all but one of which were occupied. Ramona grinned, thinking there might be more people eating in the little store than lived in the village.

"Believe it or not, this place has the best cheeseburgers in the county," Piney said. He waved to the cook.

"Hey, Pascal, I want you to meet our new addition, "Ranger Greentree."

Pascal gave a little bow. "A lovely lady ranger," he said with a French Canadian accent, "I will make you an extra good lunch."

"Burger?" Piney asked Ramona. When she nodded enthusiastically, he told Pascal, "Two cheeseburger baskets with everything."

They got drinks from the cooler and sat at the empty table. As they waited, Piney leaned forward and cleared his throat.

"Let me ask you, Ramona..." he hesitated for a few seconds, "I looked at your records from the academy and your training report down at Camden Hills, and you look to me to be a pretty sharp cookie. So how did you get assigned to the smallest, most out of the way post in the service?"

Ramona shrugged, then thought for a moment. "The easy answer would be that there still isn't much enthusiasm for female rangers," she said, "But I don't want that to sound like whining."

"I hear you. I'll admit I was a foot dragger myself, but then I worked with a few women, and they were as capable as the men."

"How about Lieutenant Bebb? He seemed pretty disappointed that I wasn't Raymond Greentree."

"He's a good man, but he's just waiting for his state pension at this point. To be honest, Ramona, it's just you and me up here. And Martha, if you ever really need someone's ass kicked."

Ramona laughed. Pascal called out their order number.

Piney nodded toward the counter. "Rookie does the running."

Ramona fetched their lunches. She could not speak about the rest of the county, but Pascal's burgers were delicious, thick and juicy and dripping with melted sharp cheddar. The basket overflowed with crispy home cut fries and a big wedge of garlic dill pickle.

"Don't get that grease on your uniform on your first day," Piney warned her, sounding stern, but grinning.

They finished lunch and as they got back in the jeep, Piney asked Ramona, "Now, do you want to know the nearest place to get really good pizza?"

"Sure."

"Boston. But Saw Whet House of Pizza will do."

They took the highway back to Saw Whet and, although matters in town were seldom within the purview of the Ranger Service, Piney showed Ramona around, taking her past the elementary school and the town hall, the fairgrounds and the little park on the river.

"Believe it or not, on the Fourth of July this place will be packed for the Saw Whet Fair. I like the horse races, myself. What I don't like is the fireworks. They ain't started a forest fire yet, but they will some day."

As they were returning to the station, the UPS truck turned onto Main Street. Piney waved when they passed, and the driver, a young man with a shock of red hair, beeped his horn and waved back.

Martha greeted them warmly when they entered the station.

"Can you let me have those training manuals?" Piney asked her. He took the manuals, then sat with Ramona at the formica table. He flipped through them, looking for anything he might not have gone over with her. There wasn't much.

"Martha will give you keys to the station and the other jeep," he told her, "and hook you up with a mail cubby. Did she tell you about the red phone?"

Ramona shook her head.

Piney fished in his shirt pocket and pulled out an old flip phone. It had been painted with what looked like bright red fingernail polish.

"This is for after hours. We rotate taking it home with us. The nights you have it, you are responsible for answering any calls. Hand off the next day, and make sure it's fully charged. As soon as the chief gives the okay, we will start the rotation. Got it?"

"Yes," Ramona answered.

"Now let me be clear. You take the call, but if it's an emergency, my number, the chief's and Martha's are programed in there, as well as the fire warden, the sheriff and the state police. But if it ain't a real emergency, don't be thinking about getting me out of my soft, warm bed. You know the definition of an emergency, right?"

"Well, an emergency can be any number of..."

Piney silenced her with a wagging finger. "Blood or fire. I expect you to be able to handle anything else."

"Got it," Ramona nodded.

Lt. Bebb emerged from his office, pulling on his jacket. "So, how did the new girl do?" he asked Piney.

"Well, we didn't take a single call, but I'd say she's ready to ranger."

"You think so?" he frowned.

"She's ready," Piney said firmly.

"If you say so," the lieutenant said, "It's you she's going to calling if she ain't."

He started towards the door, calling over his shoulder, "Welcome to the team, Ray," Before she could respond, he was gone.

"He still thinks you're Raymond," Martha laughed.

"So, I don't supposed you have much in the way of plans tonight," Piney said.

"I don't, why?" Ramona asked.

"Well, it's a tradition. Martha and the missus and me want to take you out to the Sportsman's Alibi for drinks tonight. That's our way to welcome you to the team."

Ramona was touched by the gesture. She had instantly liked them both and felt a relief that they were so friendly to her.

"Sure, that would be great."

"I can't drink, because I'll have the red phone," Piney said, "But the ladies certainly will."

"Darn tootin'," Martha muttered.

"Alright then, let's pack it in for today," Piney said, rising from the table, "See you at the Alibi. Let's say eight o'clock."

Piney left, and Martha gave Ramona directions to the saloon, which was about two miles out of town, up the Jackman road. As they left the station, she patted Ramona on the back.

"Dress up nice," she said, "It's about the only place to socialize around here, and you never know, you might want to make a good first impression on somebody."

CHAPTER THREE

The Sportsman's Alibi Saloon was a large rough plank building, set back under the trees. There were about a half dozen cars in the gravel lot when Ramona turned in. She parked, and checked herself in the rear view mirror. She seldom wore makeup, and had not brought any with her. What you see is what you get, she thought. She'd not packed many clothes either. Her nicer things were boxed and stored at her mother's house in Ellsworth for later retrieval. She had brought a nice pair of black slacks and a light flower print blouse. She didn't know if they would meet Martha's idea of dressing up nice, but they'd have to do.

The sky was a lush violet when she stepped out of the car, but the parking lot was dark in the shade of the towering pine trees that lined the road. Ramona took a deep breath of the cool evening air, ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair, and climbed the three steps to the saloon's wide front porch.

The Alibi's interior was as rustic as its facade. The tables and chairs, even the long bar itself, were made of rough hewn wood. The only signs of modernity were the glowing Labatt Blue sign above the bar, and an ancient Wurlitzer jukebox in the corner. There was a pool table at one end of the room and a dart board at the other. A huge moose head and a Red Sox flag hung above the bar, and there was a poster of Bobby Orr on the door of the single bathroom.

Martha was standing by the bar. As Ramona crossed to meet her, she felt as if every eye in the place was following her. Glancing quickly around the room, she realized that, in fact, about half of them were. She felt foolish when she realized that she had hoped that Aaron Haines eyes would have been among them. Since they had left his homestead, her mind kept wandering back to the way he had unselfconsciously looked her over.

Martha smiled when she saw Ramona. "You clean up pretty nice," she said. The bartender placed a pitcher of beer in front of her.

"Come on," she told Ramona, "grab those glasses."

Ramona picked up four beer glasses from the bar and followed Martha to a table in the far corner, near the dart board. They sat, and Martha filled them each a glass.

"Getting settled in out there at Mrs. York's?" she asked.

"Not much to settle," Ramona said, "I only brought the bare necessities for now. I figure I'll go back to my Mom's and get the rest of the stuff later."

Martha frowned. "Did you think you might turn tail once you got here and took a look around? I mean, this ain't no glamour post."

Ramona laughed. "I didn't expect glamour. I know I have to work my way up."

"It ain't gonna be easy," Martha shrugged, "Female and all."

"I'll do the job and they can judge me by that," Ramona said. She thought she had sounded too defensive, so she smiled, and asked Martha, "What about you? Are you from around here?"

"Nope," Martha said, shaking her head, "I'm from away. Which is to say, New Hampshire."

"Which makes you pretty much a foreigner up here," Ramona said with a chuckle.

"Yep. Born twenty miles over the state line. Might as well be from Mars."

"How did you end up in Saw Whet?"

"Husband was a logger. Well, no. He was a full time drinker and a recreational logger, you might say. I gave him the heave ho, he left town, I stayed. Works at the mill down in Waterville now."

"Any kids?"

"A son. Billy. He's over in Farmington. Going to college supposedly, but mostly just having a good time."

There was a chorus of greetings, and Ramona looked over her shoulder to see Piney coming through the door, accompanied by a short, round woman. Martha waved, and they came to the table.

Piney pulled out a chair for his wife.

"Ramona, this is Cassie, my much better half."

Ramona held out her hand, and Cassie took it between both of hers, squeezed it and smiled warmly. "Clarence told me that he thought you were going to make a wicked fine ranger," she said, "He didn't tell me that you were such a looker, as well."

"Maybe he thought you wouldn't want him out in the woods with her if he did," Martha joked.

Cassie shook her head. "Nope, I don't ever worry about things like that."

Ramona glanced at Piney and saw, from the way he gazed at his wife, that Cassie's confidence was well placed.

Martha poured a glass of beer for Cassie, while Piney went to the bar to get a Coke. When he came back, he brought a bowl of peanuts with him, and soon, the tabletop was littered with empty shells.

Cassie questioned Ramona about what she had seen of the town.

"Not much so far," Ramona said, "I just got in yesterday and we were out on patrol all day today."

"More like joy riding," Piney said.

Cassie and Martha gave Ramona the rundown on the local stores, which didn't take long. The conversation turned to shop talk, which naturally focused on the one member of the team that wasn't there.

"Wes Bebb was a top notch ranger in his day," Piney told Ramona, "But well..."

"His day was twenty years ago," Martha interjected.

Piney frowned. "He's lost a few steps, I agree, but I won't disrespect the man."

Throughout the conversation, Martha had been glancing past Ramona, toward the door. She had spoken of her ex-husband, but had made no mention of any other relationship, and Ramona wondered if there might be someone she was hoping to see walk into the saloon. She noticed that, although Piney had said he would not be drinking any beer, she had gotten four glasses.