Alan Cook - Honeymoon for Three

“Look at that car over there. Except for the color, it’s just like mine.”

Gary directed his gaze at a 1959 Ford Fairlane parked about fifty yards away, whose occupants apparently were also looking at the dam. He couldn’t see who was inside the car. The two-tone, green and white model had wings that were less pronounced than those of the 1957 model had been. It looked stylish, but it was a gas hog. Which is why they had opted to drive his economical Volkswagen on this trip, even though Penny’s car, given to her by her parents, would hold a lot more baggage.

Alfred saw their car pull up to the viewpoint. He had guessed right about their destination, but he had parked far enough away so they wouldn’t see him inside his car. They didn’t know what his car looked like yet. It was just the car of another sightseer. He was safe for the moment. Soon they would know his car, but it would be because Penny was leaving in it with him.

He could sit here and plot his next move. The immediate problem was the rain. It was coming down in sheets, and they showed no inclination to get out of the VW. It must be cramped in that little car, especially with all the stuff they had in the backseat. He was glad he had the roominess of his Ford, even though buying gas for it was rapidly depleting his cash supply.

As long as Penny stayed in the VW, he wouldn’t be able to isolate her so that he could talk to her. He needed to catch her away from Gary. How could he do that? Alfred finished his lunch. Penny and Gary stayed in their car. Alfred thought about creating some sort of disturbance that would get their attention and separate the two of them long enough for him to do what he had to do. It was raining too hard.

While he dithered, time passed. Before he could come up with a workable plan, they drove away.

Penny wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did. The feeling was not one of terror, but the prelude to terror, when the hairs on the back of your neck tell you that something really bad is going to happen, but you’re not quite sure what it is. Why should she feel this way at a pleasant campground in Little Round Pond State Park near Sandpoint, Idaho?

They were cooking their dinner on the Coleman stove and contemplating camping here for the night. Gary was busy tending the stove and seemed to be as happy as a mouse sitting on a mountain of cheese. They had come through Spokane, Washington, in intermittent rain and then crossed into Idaho. At Coeur d’Alene they had purchased some groceries and then headed north through beautiful scenery-trees, hills, the occasional lake. One thing the U.S.A. had in abundance was beautiful scenery.

It was cool but not cold. The sun would be setting in a while. Its rays were being filtered through the evergreen trees. The air had that fresh, foresty aroma, the aroma of an outdoors with clean air and no Los Angeles smog.

The ranger in charge of the campground was being very attentive to them. He had the time to be attentive because they were the only people in the campground. He was middle-aged and mild-mannered. He wore glasses and a ranger uniform. He looked as if he wouldn’t hurt a mosquito.

He was chatting with Gary at the moment, asking where they had come from, where they were going. Why had they decided to elope to Reno to get married? Didn’t they have family? Friendly questions. Nothing to be concerned about. Questions that anybody might ask. Questions that an ax murderer might ask.

Since it was the end of the camping season, the chances of anybody else showing up at this campground tonight were slim. All right, the chances of the ranger actually being an ax murderer ranged from slim to nonexistent. He was no more an ax murderer than Gary was. Penny admitted to herself that her fears were completely irrational. But irrational fears destroyed many a night’s sleep.

Maybe it was the ghost of Emily, coming to haunt her. Making sure that even when everything seemed idyllic, she had something to worry about. Things were going too well. That was a crazy thought, perhaps, but Penny couldn’t shake it.

Before they put up the tent, she broached her fears to Gary. She didn’t say that she thought the ranger was an ax murderer. She said that the campground felt creepy since they were the only campers. He was surprisingly sympathetic. He didn’t tell her she was crazy. He said that if she felt this way they would go on and stay somewhere else. She got the impression that he felt the isolation too.

The landscape was getting wilder and wilder. Alfred had not known that large portions of the United States were completely uninhabited. While driving across the country he had encountered the emptiness of the plains, but at least there had been scattered farm houses.

He didn’t know where Penny and Gary were. He hoped he was ahead of them, because that’s what his plan called for. He had stayed the night at a motel in Sandpoint, Idaho, and gotten an early start this morning. Today, he knew that they planned to go into Glacier National Park on the Going-to-the-Sun Road. They had talked about hiking to a place called Sperry Chalet where they would stay overnight. That was complete madness, and Alfred would put a stop to it.

He ate an early lunch in Kalispell, Montana, because his map didn’t show anything beyond it that looked civilized. He had been picking up maps at gas stations as he went. Fortunately, most of them were free. As far as dinner was concerned, he expected to be back here by then, with Penny sitting happily beside him.

He drove into Glacier National Park and alongside Lake McDonald. He knew that the trail to Sperry Chalet started from the lake. He drove carefully on the road that some halfwits might call scenic, looking for signs. With trees on one side of the road and the lake on the other, unbroken expanses of green and blue, it was almost impossible for him to know exactly where he was. He was afraid that he might have passed the trail when he saw the sign. He pulled into a parking lot at the trailhead.

His heart sank as he spotted the green Volkswagen, sitting among a handful of other cars. Penny and Gary were nowhere to be seen. Alfred parked his car and walked over to the VW. It was locked. They were already on the trail.

“Do you remember when we climbed Mt. Manual in the Big Sur?” Gary asked as they stopped to take a breather.

“Do I ever.” Penny sipped water from her canteen. “It’s a good thing I had my hiking boots. If Grandpa hadn’t sent me the ten dollars to buy them… Do you know that you’re my first boyfriend he’s ever approved of?”

“You must have told him a good story.” Gary had never met her grandfather. In fact, he hadn’t met any member of her family except an uncle and aunt and a couple of cousins who lived in Goleta.

“I told him all about you in my letters. And, of course, I saw him when I went back east. I think the thing that sold him on you is the fact that you’re not Catholic.”

“Then for my sake, I’m glad I’m not. Anyway, Mt. Manual was a good training hike for this one. And I’m the one who got blisters.”

“That rattlesnake scared the bejesus out of me. I almost jumped off the mountain.”

The snake had skittered across the trail in front of them. They had been hiking alongside a cliff, and for a moment Gary had been afraid that Penny was really going to jump off. That was when he found out how scared of snakes she was.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for you,” Penny continued. “Remember, I sat down and said I couldn’t go another step.”

Gary had been sure they were very close to the top. He went on ahead and spotted the peak. Then he returned and persuaded Penny to go the rest of the way. She staggered to the top, sank down on the ground, and took off her shirt to cool off. She looked very appealing, sitting there in her white bra, but neither of them had the energy to do anything about it.