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Spearfish Lake Tales
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Stray Kitten book cover

Stray Kitten
A Tale from Spearfish Lake
Wes Boyd
©2008, ©2010, ©2013




Chapter 32

They spent the night sleeping body close to body all but nude in the zipped-together sleeping bags, something they’d never done before, and to Cody it seemed almost as momentous an occasion as if they’d actually gone all the way. He woke up with his arm around Janice, feeling the warmth of her close to him. While he still wasn’t certain that he was quite ready to do what she wanted just yet, this just convinced him that the time wasn’t all that far off. Once again, he found himself hoping that when it happened like it was sure to do, it would pull them closer together rather than push them apart. Janice might still have some problems, but he was sure that he didn’t want to bother with looking anywhere else.

He just lay there holding onto her, enjoying the wonder of it all, when he realized that she was awake, too. “Good morning, Cody,” she smiled at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry that we didn’t do it last night,” she smiled. “We still could, if you want to.”

“Maybe we’d better not. After all, we do have a good reason to not do it right now.”

“Yeah, true,” she sighed. “I hate to say it, but maybe we’d better get up.”

“Yeah, I guess, but that assumes I want to get up. On the other hand, we probably ought to be getting something to eat and thinking about getting on the road.”

It still took them a while to slide out of the sleeping bags and get dressed. There was no one else around, so they took advantage of more room outside to get their clothes changed and ready for the day. Cody lit the alcohol stove and started some water warming for coffee, while she unzipped the sleeping bags, stuffed them in their stuff bags and loaded them in the truck. Together they rolled up the self-inflating air mattresses and got the straps on them to hold them closed, then broke to have their breakfast of some coffee, Pop Tarts and granola bars. It wasn’t the best breakfast they could put together, but it was easy and simple. They promised each other that they would stop at a restaurant somewhere for lunch, then took down the tent and put it in the truck along with the rest of their gear. Soon they were on the road.

They doubled back a bit to take the drive out to Miner’s Castle in the Pictured Rocks, to take in the great morning view of Lake Superior and watch one of the tour boats like they’d ridden the day before go by. Soon they were on the road again, heading for one of the main stops on their trip, the Straits of Mackinac.

They were heading down US-2 near noon when they came on a long stretch of beach right alongside the highway, stretching almost a mile. “That’s Lake Michigan,” Cody told her. “You want to stop?”

“If you want to,” she smiled.

“Fine with me,” he giggled. “If for no more reason than to watch you wiggle into that bikini under your clothes again.”

“Cody, I know I’m a little weird, but I don’t think you’re any less weird than I am. I’d change right out in the open if you asked me to.”

“I know you would, but there’s no reason to put on a floor show for all the truck drivers going by.”

The beach was great, if not as wide as the one up on Lake Superior the day before. There were more people here, but only a few, scattered here and there along the beach, at least some of them families that had stopped for a break from the driving. The lake proved to be notably warmer than Lake Superior had been up by Au Train the day before, but still not what could be called comfortable. Janice still wasn’t much of a swimmer after only a couple quick lessons from Cody, but there was a warm breeze blowing out of the south that kicked up waves that were fun to play in. After a while they got chilled enough to just flop in the sand and let the sun warm them, which meant that once again they had to get back in the lake to wash the sand off before they went up to the pickup to dry off.

Less than an hour out they had their first sight of “Big Mac,” the five-mile suspension bridge that knits Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas together. It was pretty awesome to look at, and even more awesome to drive over as a big lake freighter went under the bridge below them. It was still fairly early in the day, so they parked the truck in the parking lot of one of the big ferry companies in Mackinaw City, and rode the ferry over to Mackinac Island. Except for a handful of emergency and work vehicles there are no automobiles allowed on the island, so in a way it seemed like a place out of time. They took a tour of the village on a horse-drawn carriage, stopped to get some of the fabled Mackinac Island Fudge, and just checked things out until they were ready to head back.

Again, the Spearfish Lake Outfitters confidential list of free places to car camp proved good; there was a good place to camp not far south of Mackinaw City overlooking a little lake, pretty to look at but not very appealing for swimming. That didn’t matter much; they set up the tent, changed into swimsuits again – out in the open this time since there wasn’t anyone around close here, either, although there was evidence of other people camping in the general area – and drove a couple miles to another Lake Michigan beach. There they swam and messed around until the sun got low, then went back to camp, fired up the alcohol stove again, and opened some cans for dinner. Once again, they had a small campfire to enjoy the post-sunset time for an hour or so, but soon it burned low and they crawled into the sleeping bags, holding tight to each other again.

They got up fairly early the next morning; they’d already decided to head into town for breakfast and to catch something they’d missed the day before: a swim in Lake Huron. They put on their swimsuits under their clothes as they tore down camp, then drove back into Mackinaw City. Even though the morning was still pretty cool, they made a quick dip into the lake within a hundred yards or so of the Mackinac Bridge, then went to a nearby restaurant to order breakfast and use the rest room to change clothes while they were waiting to be served.

Dressed for driving again, they soon were headed south to Lansing and the pistol meet. They got there a little after noon, having stopped for lunch. Cody registered for the meet, and after they set up the tent next to the truck he decided to get a little practice on the unfamiliar range.

Cody was entered in two events: target pistol, which meant the .22 Ruger, and centerfire pistol, which meant the P226. He shot a few clips from both just to get used to the place, shooting regular ammunition in the Ruger rather than the match grade that Charlie had given him. Similarly, he didn’t really trust the nine-millimeter ammunition that Charlie had given him – it was old, having sat around the department for several years since the department had gone to the .40-caliber Glocks. However, Cody had bought just enough match quality ammunition to shoot the centerfire event, so although his practice scores were nothing to write home about he had hopes of doing better in the meet.

A lot of competitors and their families were camped in the grassy parking area behind the range; not to their surprise, Cody and Jan realized that he was just about the youngest person shooting at the meet, since this one wasn’t open to juniors. They were among only a few people staying in tents, too; most of the other competitors had campers of one sort or another, running from pop-up trailers up to huge motor homes.

The next day was the competition. Cody shot well with the target pistol, respectably considering his lack of big-meet experience, but not well enough to medal at anything. Heavy pistol, though, proved to be different. It happened that there was a national meet nearby that weekend, down at Camp Perry in Ohio, so a lot of the top competitors in the state weren’t there. For some reason Cody felt like he was really in tune with the P226 and shot very well, although he wasn’t paying much attention to how other shooters were doing – he just wanted to shoot as well as he could.

His “good enough” proved to be pretty good; when the scores were officially totaled up he’d won first place by one point! That made him state champion in centerfire – something to brag about, even though the best competition had been absent. Privately he thought he might have shot tenth or fifteenth if the better competitors had been there, but it was still something to brag about and a trophy to put behind the seat of the truck, and later on the mantle of his home in Spearfish Lake.

They spent the night at the range, which was mostly emptied out shortly after the match ended. There were still a few people hanging around, and he and Janice spent the evening with a group from a motor home with a fire in a fire pan, mostly sitting around and talking shooting. They were just tearing down the next morning with the idea of stopping off for breakfast someplace when their friends from the night before invited them over to eat with them, and they put on a real feed! Of course, they sat around talking about shooting for quite a while longer, so it was late in the morning before he and Janice finished tearing down their camp.

At one point they’d loosely planned to head into the Detroit area to visit Greenfield Village, a historical museum started by Henry Ford. As they had lost so much time hanging around the range and shooting the bull they decided to give it a pass; it could keep for another trip, and if they wound up going to Southern Michigan it could be an easy day trip from there. Shay would be waiting for them on his day off the next day so they decided to just drive down to be close.

By now they were in much-more-populated country, and the Spearfish Lake Outfitters list couldn’t help them with a free place to stay, so they had to settle for East Harbor State Park a few miles away from Cedar Point. They had to pay a camping fee, but it was much less than a motel. The park proved to be a huge place, with hundreds of campsites, not exactly their thing, but with a great beach, which was. This was on Lake Erie, which was a lot warmer than the Great Lakes up north, warm enough to stay in for a while and enjoy. Again there was a nice breeze blowing and making the waves kick up, so they stayed on the beach for quite a while, with lots of time in the lake. Even though it was the middle of the week the place had a lot more people around than any other beach they’d been to; Janice wore one of her more conservative bikinis, but there were a lot to be seen that were considerably more daring. Again they had a campfire that evening, but this time they had to buy the wood from a roadside stand.

Once again they were up early the next morning to drive over to the dormitory at Cedar Point where Shay was staying. They soon found him; after the usual greetings and catching up the three of them squeezed together in the truck and went to a nearby restaurant for breakfast. “I take it that you guys want to mess around in the park today,” he said.

“Well, that was kind of what we intended,” Cody admitted.

“I might as well go with you,” he replied. “There’s a big part of this place I haven’t seen myself, and usually when I get a day off, the last thing I want to do is hang around the park. It’s been a little lonely since Bethany and I broke up.”

“You broke up?” Cody replied in surprise. “This is news! When did this happen?”

“Oh, about a month ago but it’s been brewing all summer,” Shay nodded. “She never had the same days off as I did, so we didn’t see a lot of each other. But then she got to hanging out with some guy who’s going to college with her, and one thing led to another. To tell the truth I was getting a little tired of everything having to be her way or no way.”

“Boy, Mom is going to like the sound of that,” Cody said. “She never liked Bethany very much, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’ve kept quiet about it because I didn’t want Mom gloating over it. I think I can tell you guys that I miss the sex, but considering what I had to put up with to get it I don’t miss it very much. I guess that means I get to play the field a little when I get back up to Laker Land. So how are the two of you getting along?”

“Oh, pretty good,” Cody replied, setting off a long update of news from home, none of it very earth shattering since Shay had called home every few days, and none of it getting very personal about where he and Janice were with each other.

Eventually they finished breakfast. Shay took them back over to the park, getting them in at a reduced rate. Cedar Point is known as the “Roller Coast” and the park has a number of spectacular and thrilling roller coasters, among a lot of other things. It was a busy day; they rode on a lot of rides and spent some time checking out the other attractions around the place. They were getting tired when they called it a day.

“I’ll be seeing you in a couple weeks, I guess,” Shay said as Cody and Janice dropped him off at his dormitory. “It probably won’t be for long, and I’m not looking forward to the trip home.”

“Going to hate leaving this place?”

“No, not at all, and I don’t think I’m going to work here another summer if I can find something a little more in my field. I already promised Bethany I’d take her home, whether we’re broke up or not,” Shay shook his head. “But I’ll tell you what, that’s going to be one damn long trip with her chewing on my ear every inch of the way. I’m planning on driving straight through to get it over with, then I’ll have to be getting hot on packing to head back to Sault Ste. Marie. I’m probably only going to be home about three days, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get all my crap back there in just the Escort.”

“Maybe we can haul some of it over there in this,” Janice offered. “We sort of missed the sights there, and another road trip would be nice.”

It was getting very late by the time they got back to East Harbor State Park, and they were very tired. For once they skipped the evening fire and just stripped off their clothes and got into their sleeping bags. The next day was going to be a big day, the real point of the trip, and they knew it.

They stopped for breakfast once again then got on the road, driving for a couple hours up the Ohio and Indiana Turnpikes, then turning north on I-67 to head for Hawthorne. Thanks to an early start it was still midmorning when they got there, and they easily found the college. They drove around it a bit, discovering that it was a mixture of old and new buildings, the majority of them red brick in a style a century or more old, but some buildings were ugly modern masonry that seemed out of place. Still, it seemed like a nice place and a nice town, and they both said they had good feelings about it.

“Frankly,” Cody summarized. “It looks like it’d work for me, but I think that since we’re here maybe we could swing by the admissions office and see what it’s going to take to get into the place.”

“We might as well,” she nodded. “That’s the big thing I’m worried about.”

It took a little asking around to find the admissions office, which proved to be in an older building toward the center of campus. “We didn’t come here to actually put in an application,” Cody explained to the Admissions Officer, a friendly guy with a name tag that read, “George Wilt.” “But we like what we’ve seen of this place and a friend of ours thinks it’s pretty cool. To be honest and up front, Janice is concerned about whether her grades are going to make it possible for her to be admitted at all.”

“Do you have a problem with your grades?” Wilt asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Janice told him. “My freshman and sophomore years were lousy. My first semester last year was even worse. I hate to make excuses, but I was being badly abused until Cody rescued me last December. He worked with me and pushed me some, and last semester I was one B-plus short of all A’s.”

“Actually, she pulled me along,” Cody explained. “I had to bust my tail to stay up with her.”

“Well, that’s encouraging,” Wilt smiled. “Have you made up your mind what fields you want to go into?”

“Janice wants to get into nursing,” Cody replied. “I want to do pre-law and criminal justice. I haven’t made up my mind between law enforcement and law school, but it’s most likely going to be one or the other.”

“Enviable and realistic goals,” Wilt nodded. “But Miss Lufkin . . . ”

“Please, sir, call me Miss Archer. It isn’t my name yet, but it will be in a couple weeks.”

“You’re getting married?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“No, at least not yet,” she replied shyly, “but when Cody’s family took me in they did it all the way.”

“All right, Miss Archer,” he continued. “Not having seen your grades, I’d be a little concerned that you can continue them at the level you managed your last semester.”

“All I can tell you is that I think I can. Things are so much better than they were before that I think I can do even better.”

“Things must have been pretty bad for you,” he replied sympathetically.

“They were,” she said, clearly not wanting to get into detail. “Then Cody came into my life like an avenging angel carrying a nine millimeter, and that’s where my life turned around.”

“A nine millimeter?” Wilt smiled, eyebrows raised again. “Mr. Archer, that must have been something pretty desperate.”

“It was,” Cody nodded, “but I’m not sorry to say that I had to use it.”

“You know much about pistols?”

“Well,” Cody smiled. “This is probably where you throw me off campus, but as of last weekend I’m the state champion in centerfire pistol.”

“That’s it!” Wilt smiled. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere but I couldn’t put my finger on it! I thought I had a chance to medal last weekend with the big guys off at Camp Perry, but no, you had to come along out of nowhere. You were shooting a Sig Sauer, right?”

“You were there?” Cody replied in sheer surprise.

“I shot ninth, one place out of the medals,” Wilt shook his head. “I thought I was doing pretty good, too. Actually, Mr. Archer, you’re right. This campus is full of the usual mob of people who don’t understand firearms, especially pistols. The chancellor, while he’s very inspiring, is one of them. There are people who even get upset at cops carrying guns on campus, so if you decide to come here, you want to leave your guns off campus.”

“I pretty well figured that,” Cody said, “but if I do come here, is there any place around I can practice?”

“Yes, we have a club with a range out north of town. I’d be glad to take you out and introduce you around. I hope that both of you will decide to come to Southern Michigan University.”

“We want to,” Cody told him, “but there’s still the matter of being accepted.”

“Well, it’s like this,” Wilt said. “I’m willing to offer you both provisional letters of acceptance this afternoon, pending review of your records and if you can keep your grades reasonable your senior year. Miss Archer, if you can continue the way you’ve been going, there should be no problem.”

“I’ll do it,” Janice said. “With Cody helping me, I don’t have any doubt that I can.”

“Good enough,” Wilt smiled. “Now, a couple things. As you may know, Southern Michigan is a little different from most schools. We don’t have much of an endowment fund to work with so we can’t offer much in the way of school scholarships. I wish we could, but we can’t, and that’s that. That has its good sides and its bad sides, but it means that you’re going to have to pretty much make do without financial aid. There are some state and federal programs but they may not help very much.”

“We’re aware of that,” Cody told him. “Janice has some money, and I’m sure my parents will help, but none of us are made of money. I guess that’s going to mean some student loans.”

“Most likely,” the admissions officer agreed, “and we can help you with them. Now, the other thing is that campus housing is in short supply, and frankly, we keep the prices high to encourage students to live off campus when possible. It is cheaper and can save you a little money.”

“We’re also aware of that,” Cody said. “The friend we have going here is planning on graduating next spring, and we’ve talked with her about taking over her apartment.”

“You’re thinking ahead,” Wilt smiled. “Can I ask who this is?”

“She’s sort of a shirttail relative, Susan McMahon.”

“Susan?” he smiled. “She sure is a girl who marches to her own drummer, isn’t she?”

“That may be an understatement. She knows what she wants and isn’t going to let someone stand in her way.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s filled you in on a lot of things,” Wilt said. “Look, it’s going to take me a while to get those provisional letters of acceptance pulled together. Would you be interested in a quick campus tour while you’re waiting? I’m sure I can scare up someone to do it.”

They had to wait out in the front office for a few minutes while Wilt looked for someone to give them the tour. When everyone seemed busy and no one appeared to be watching, Janice leaned over to Cody and whispered in his ear. “I was so damn sure that Wilt was trying to let me down easy when he got talking about my grades, but then the two of you started talking about guns instead. I think you literally shot us both into this place.”

“Looked like it to me, too, Jan,” he said back in a more normal tone of voice. “I think this is the place for us.”

-

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