Since I was truly stuck between a rock and an RV park, I knew that I would take the job. I really had no choice. I picked up the phone before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hi Lori! This is Denise! I got a job and a place to live!”
“You’re lying! It’s only 9:30.” She still sounds pissed off at me.
“I swear! I’m at Bud’s Creek at an RV park and this wonderful lady named Billy was so excited to meet me. She couldn’t believe her good fortune that I came in when I did. She wants me to be her chef here at her restaurant. Well, maybe not a chef as we know it, but her cook. Then, you won’t believe this; she said I could live in this empty fifth wheel behind the restaurant!” I’ve always over-dramatized things in my favor.
“Oh my gawd!” Lori screamed.
“Lori, it’s so beautiful here! They have a lake with ducks and the fifth wheel is practically new!”
“I’m so relieved! How did all this happen? I’m sorry I didn’t have any faith in you.” She sounds genuinely sincere, so I open up as well.
“I know. I’m sorry that I made you so nervous. You know me after all these years. I guess I follow a different path that even I don’t understand.”
I call my sons and mom and dad, making it brief, and finish the chore of comforting the family fears.
As I hang up the phone, I feel a tingling sensation on the back of my neck. Reaching back to rub the spot, I feel moisture on my fingers. I turn my hand to look at my fingers and am startled to see a few drops of blood. What in the hell? At closer inspection of my fingers I notice the teeny tiny body parts of a mosquito. I do hope this is not an indication of a mosquito problem. Mosquitoes absolutely love me! I don’t just get an irritation from them, I get a violent reaction. I’m sure the pond has a lot to do with that.
My need to use a restroom at the moment leads me to explore my new surroundings for a few minutes before I leave to the motel. As I drive slowly toward the bathroom building, I notice a tan chunky gal with a bit of a biker look to her, moving sprinklers around the park. She sets one with a spray of at least fifty feet right in the direction of a family’s beautiful recreational vehicle parked and set up for their visit. I watch it blast the RV’s outer patio wall, spraying the table set-up, chairs, and ice chests. She hops in her golf cart and rides away, chugging the last few sips of a beer. The only remains of her is the thump, thump, thump of the sprinklers against the RV, breaking the silence of the morning.
I park next to the restroom and walk toward the door. There is a table next to the entry that has an ashtray with a cigarette burning, two open beers, and an empty one lying on its side about to roll off the table that is piled with various cleaning supplies. I hear two female voices from inside a doorway marked supplies. I proceed to enter the restroom door and find it locked. A sign on the door reads, “Please keep restroom door shut. For guests of Hacienda ONLY!” At this point, one of the voices startles me.
“You furget yur key?” She has the cigarette now and is holding the beer. She looks to be in her early thirties and has the worn out look of one who has been drunk all her life. “No. I actually don’t have a key just yet. I was just talking to Billy about a job for the summer.” I answer.
“Cool! Doin’ what?” She seems to be a harmless, happy drunk.
“She said she needs a cook.”
At this point the other gal comes out of the supply room. She seems more normal, but is not interested in who I might be.
“What’s yur name?” The gal with the beer asks.
“Denise.”
“I’m Ruby and this is Brenda. Sit down. Ya want a beer?” Ruby is so excited that she accidentally bangs her shin on the bench, but did not seem to notice or feel any pain.
“No thanks, it’s kind of early for me.”
“It’s twenty-four seven for me. Billy could really use a new cook. She’s getting pretty tired. Been doin’ this fur far too long. She’s got Bubba but he can’t keep doin’ all three shifts. He’s still got all the trash to haul and mowin’ the grass. Terry, his girlfriend, has been doin’ all the watering even though she doesn’t really work here. And Ray isn’t too well. Here, let me open the door fur ya. We have to keep it locked cause so many travelers and campers think they can just pull in here and use our restrooms then leave.”
Brenda doesn’t say anything, and seems like she just wants to finish up her job and get going.
Ruby opens the door and follows me in. The restroom has five large shower stalls and four toilet areas. They must have just finished cleaning because it smells like Pine-Sol. I decide on the first stall.
“So ya gonna take the job?” Ruby’s voice echoes loudly against the walls.
“I think so. I’m going to stay in Brandon tonight to think about it.”
“God, I hope ya take the job. You seem like a really cool person. Ya gonna stay in the fifth wheel?”
“Billy offered it to me.”
“Cool! Billy is really a neat lady. She offered this job to me. I’ve been here on and off for a couple of years. Billy has really saved my butt many times.”
“Well, I better get on the road. Hopefully I’ll see you later.” I say as I exit the stall.
Ruby follows me to my car. Bonita and Bandito start barking at the approaching stranger.
“Cool! You got puppies!” Ruby is at the car window rubbing Bonita’s head. Bandito has jumped into the back and is barking angrily, as if he was insulted.
“They’re not really puppies. They’re actually about ten years old, just Chihuahua mixes.”
“I love dogs! Have a new one-year old Shepherd mix. Maybe after you start working here you can come out to my place and we’ll let the dogs play together. I’m just down the road ‘bout ten miles. My cabin sits right next to Bud’s Creek.”
“That sounds fun. We’ll see how it goes. By the way, where is Bud’s Creek?” I ask.
“What do ya mean? This is Bud’s creek. Oh, I get it. Ya mean where is the creek itself.”
“Yeh, the creek itself. How do I get to it?”
“Any side dirt road ya see off the highway. It runs ‘long side it for miles.”
“Great! I’ll have to stop and check it out on my way to Brandon. Thanks and nice meeting you. Bye Ruby. Bye Brenda!” I had to shout to Brenda. She was standing by the restroom wall watching us. She waves back lazily. As I get in the car the musty odor makes me aware of all the damp camping items that need to be air-dried. Perhaps I can do this on the picnic tables when I return tomorrow.
It’s about 10:30 and the dogs need to get out for a while, so I decide to find a dirt road off the highway on my way to a motel in Brandon and check out Bud’s Creek. I hadn’t really noticed all the campsite turnoffs before on my way to and from Hacienda. I guess I had a lot on my mind. I pick a turn off after about five miles and pull into the dirt entry. I see one car in the dirt lot, but no one is around. The dogs are excited and know they are about to get out of the car. I leash them up with their extending leashes that give them sixteen feet to explore and feel like wild animals. I can hear the creek roaring beyond the tree line and we walk towards it.
The water is running strong and clear from the winter snow melt off. As I stare at it, it washes away my stress and worries. It is quite beautiful and peaceful. I see a man some hundred yards down the creek fishing. Two empty ‘Bud’ cans float near the shore. An empty pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a worm container sit near a rock a few feet away. I laugh to myself thinking about the true meaning of Bud’s Creek. I pick up the trash and put it in the plastic