Fear of Frying

himself is gonna say, ‘Why’d you cut down my trees to build that big ol’ building just to line your pockets with gold? Those were My trees, Titus.’ That’s what God’s gonna say to you. And then what good is all your gold gonna do you?”
    Shelley was no longer laughing. “That’s a real loony,“ she said once they were inside the lodge with the door firmly shut behind them.
    Benson heard her. “He’s only this bad when he’s coming off a drunk.“ He was trying to be reassuring, but it was obvious he was very upset. He went straight to the phone. Jane and Shelley went to sit by the fireplace and could hear Benson saying furiously, “Tell Taylor to send somebody out here right now to get this maniac off my property. He’s harassing my guests. I won’t have any more of this. If he turns up here again, I’m going to file a lawsuit against the county that’ll knock your socks off. I have the right to be protected from this lunatic!“
    “Can’t say I blame him,“ Shelley said quietly.
    Jane inched closer to the fire. She hadn’t realized how chilly she really was until she felt the warmth. “Imagine having to cope with someone like that!”
    A few minutes later, a patrol car arrived. Through the front windows they could see a man in uniform approach Lucky and start talking to him. Lucky kept gesturing and shouting, but the officer kept his cool, nodding and continuing to talk. Finally Lucky calmed down and was led away to the car and off the property.
    Jane and Shelley settled in to watch others who were coming in. A dozen or so people who seemed to be acquainted passed through to the dining room. Jane supposed they were local people who had decided to make a little mini vacation by staying overnight before the next day’s activities. Several young people, presumably students, headed for the kitchen, and one professorial-looking older gentleman arrived with a slide projector, screen, and briefcase. Edna Titus came down the stairs behind the front desk and greeted him.
    “Who’s that?“ Shelley asked.
    “Benson’s mother. I had a chat and a smoke with her out here last night.”
    Edna approached them and was introduced. “You haven’t seen my sweater, have you, Jane?“
    “I have. Where? Oh, on one of the rockers on the porch.”
    Edna went off to fetch her sweater, and Jane and Shelley went into the dining room. Their idea of a “light lunch“ was an apple and a piece of cheese. Benson’s was a selection of four different kinds of sandwiches, three soups, an assortment of chips, dips, nuts, cheeses, soft drinks, coffee, fancy tea bags, another platter of melon—in balls this time instead of slices—and two salads.
    “I’m going to go home weighing four hundred pounds,“ Shelley said. “I’ll have to wrap up in a tent because my clothes won’t fit.“
    “Nonsense. We’re burning off every single calorie just by walking around in the cold,“ Jane said. “Now, dig in.”

    Jane felt so stupefied by lunch that she couldn’t face a lecture. If she were to sit quietly, she knew it would be only moments before she was sound asleep and snoring repulsively.
    “I know I should be taking my responsibilities more seriously,“ she told Shelley, “but I’m going to go take a nap.”
    Shelley flapped a hand dismissively. “Go ahead. We don’t actually need to know about the wildlife in order to make an intelligent recommendation on sending the kids here. Unless, of course, they’re going to tell us about something huge and vicious that eats teenagers.“
    “If so, ask if they’re for sale,“ Jane said.
    As Jane sluggishly made her way back to their cabin, she realized it was misting and there , was a faint, faraway rumble of thunder. A perfect afternoon for a nap. She made a quick E-mail run on the computer, picking up a delightfully personal note from Mel, a plea from her daughter, Katie, that Jane authorize Grandma to advance funds for a shopping trip—funds Jane would reimburse, of course—and a note from her son Mike asking her opinion of his joining the college band, which would require the purchase of a tux.
    She replied to all of the notes briefly.
    “Me, too,“ to Mel.
    “No,“ to Katie.
    And “Let me think about it,“ to Mike.
    She sent the notes off, removed her shoes, and snuggled into bed for a nice, cozy snooze.

    When Jane woke, she thought she’d overslept and it was night. But it was merely overcast and had apparently rained quite hard while she was