Stan Morris - Surviving the Fog

“That’s more experience than most of these kids have,” Hector agreed.

“And I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” he said skeptically. “What is it?”

“I was thinking about these braces,” she said, motioning to the heavy iron straps that Hector had retrieved from the logging camp. “You’re going to make wooden pegs to hold them to the logs, right? But you can’t get the pegs perfectly round, right? So there’s bound to be gaps, right?”

“Right so far,” Hector responded, humoring the girl.

“I was thinking that, since we don’t have any wood glue, we might be able to use the sap from trees to fill the gaps,” she said.

“Now that’s an idea, uh…Kathy,” Hector answered slowly. He thought about it. “That is an idea.”

“And since the sap is sticky, it might make the braces stronger. That would make the wall stronger, right?”

“Si,” Hector answered. “That’s not a bad idea at all, Kathy.”

“I was thinking that if we heated up the sap and then rolled the pegs in the stuff, it might be easier to cover the whole peg.”

“Damn, that is a good idea,” Hector exclaimed enthusiastically. “Uh, sorry.”

Kathy gave him a sweet smile. As if I don’t hear the ‘F’ word every day , she thought.

“So can I work with you?” she asked.

“Uh, sure. Why not?” he answered. “Tomorrow I’ll explain what I’m planning to do here. But you might have to carry mud some times,” he cautioned.

“I don’t mind,” she answered happily. She walked with him down to the dining hall.

The next day, Hector sent her exploring for tree sap. Kathy spent most of the day gathering samples, but at the end of the work period, she was at the wall with a bottle of water for Hector. That evening, she and Hector whittled pegs and melted sap trying to find a combination that would be as effective as glue.

For the next week, they worked closely together. They finished building the wall, and they discovered that the sap covered pegs worked. Now that the wall was completed, it was time to dismantle the remaining cabins on the other side of the river, and move them over to the work site where they would be reassembled on top of the wall and the rock ledge.

But before they began to reassemble the cabins, Hector took the bus up to the logging camp, and he filled it with old branches, scrap timber, and the ends of logs. He drove the bus back to the camp, and the kids stacked this wood into the space between the wall and the ledge. They would use this lumber for firewood during the winter.

Hector was impressed with Kathy’s intelligence and her knowledge of wood. And she was a fast learner. He could show her something once, and she would quickly understand. He showed her how to place braces under the floors of the cabins using log posts. She found some string, and she used it to measure the distances for the rest of the posts, thereby speeding up the work.

He found himself spending a lot of time in her company discussing the construction of the Lodge. Once, when she was scrambling along some scaffolding that he had built, he told her that she looked like a cat. They laughed together, and after that he started calling her, Kat.

He liked spending time with Kathy, he realized. He wasn’t that much older than some of the kids, but he didn’t feel that he had much in common with them. Sometimes he felt lonely. With Kathy, he had someone to talk to about something that he enjoyed.

And she was nice. It seemed like she always had a bottle of water for him after work. And when he was exceptionally busy and was reluctant to pause for lunch, she always had a sandwich handy. It was usually peanut butter and jelly, his favorite.

“Where are you from?” Kathy asked one afternoon, as they shared their dinner.

“I was born in Zacatecas,” replied Hector. “In Mexico. I worked with my father who is a carpenter. But there wasn’t enough work, and my parents have five other children. So, when I was twenty one I rode the bus to Ciudad Juarez, and I snuck across the border. From there I made my way to California. I got a job on this logging crew. They work all over the west. They needed workers, and they didn’t ask questions. They usually paid us in cash. What about you, Kat? Where do you come from?”

“I was born in Concord, California,” she replied. “I lived in a small place called Clayton Valley. My Dad told me that it used to be a quiet country area, but now there are houses everywhere. There’s a mountain nearby. Mount Diablo. It’s not that high, and you can drive all the way to the top. I used to go there with my family, and we would have picnics.”

He thought about that one evening after he had retired to his cabin. It was the last one standing on that side of the river. The others had been disassembled and reassembled on the wall. He was thinking that Kathy was unlike the other girls.

The other girls are much sillier , he thought. She wasn’t athletic like Yuie, but she was strong. She could carry those buckets of mud tirelessly. She wasn’t bossy like Desi could be, but if he needed her to supervise other kids, she could get the job done.

She wasn’t like Erin, of course. Erin had those magnificent breasts. Kathy was still developing. But she was perfectly formed. And she did have a really cute face. He liked her lovely blue eyes. He loved the way those beautiful blond bangs fell down sometimes and covered her face. She really needed a haircut. And once, he had seen her in a towel coming out of the showers. Her legs were exceptional. She certainly had a cute butt. He could tell from those tight designer jeans that she was always wearing. He wondered. How would it feel to caress that cute butt? He wondered. How would it feel…? He was jolted back to reality. What are you thinking? She is only fourteen. And a half. He was twenty three. He couldn’t be thinking of her that way. He sternly told his body to settle down. Way down.

Unfortunately, in the following days, it seemed as if he was more aware of her physical presence than ever. And she was always inadvertently touching him, putting her hand on his shoulder or chest or back, or leaning back against him when he helped her lift a section of wall.

It started to drive him crazy. Once, when her denim covered bottom backed against his groin, he had to take off his cap and hold it over himself while pretending to be deep in thought. He began to think that he would either have to grab her and hold on for dear life, or else flee back to the logging camp. At night, in the privacy of his bed, he futilely tried to think of someone else. He tried being less familiar and more formal with her. Then, for some reason, she stopped wearing those tight jeans, and she switched to her skirts; her short skirts.

One day she was standing on a plank laid across a pair of rough sawhorses. She asked him to help her while she bolted a section of the wall. Obligingly, he stood behind her, and he gripped the plank firmly to steady it. He felt a sudden gust of wind, and suddenly the rear of her little short skirt flew up to her waist. During the day, her panties had worked themselves up between her cheeks. There, before him, was presented the most wonderful twin moons that it had ever been his privilege to behold. Apparently she did not know what had happened. She continued to concentrate on the bolt. Startled, he almost pulled the plank out from under her.

As soon as she finished, he excused himself and went to Chief’s Headquarters to see Mike. John and Desi happened to be there. Hector told Mike that Kathy might be better off working in some other capacity.

“She’s not doing her work?” Mike asked.

“No, no, her work is just fine. Better than fine. She’s good at everything she tries.”