Fear of Frying

been Lucky Smith,“ Benson Titus said, coming from the kitchen with an enormous tray of food. He set out a platter of fried chicken, an enormous bowl of mashed potatoes, a giant pitcher of gravy, and two good-sized bowls of green beans on the table. “Start on this,“ he said, leaving to fetch another tray with the cornbread, butter, coleslaw, and a tossed salad. When he’d distributed the food, he sat down at an empty spot at the table. “Yeah, Lucky Smith is our local hunter thug who saw the light and turned environmental thug. He keeps a close eye on us here. But he’s not dangerous, just a nuisance. Lucky grew up in these parts, a real good ol’ boy, slaughtering everything he could hook or shoot.
    “He got religion about the same time a group of enviro-Nazis started up in the county. Sorry. My wife says I shouldn’t use that word, but sometimes it’s the only one that fits. Anyhow, Lucky’s decided it’s his mission in life to keep an eye on the resort.”
    Shelley passed Jane the beans and whispered, “Trouble in paradise.“
    “Makes paradise more interesting,“ Jane replied.

Three

    “So what’s this Lucky person do?“ Marge Clay- pool said timidly, glancing around and seeming to notice for the first time that two sides of the room were windows with utter darkness beyond them.
    “Nothing much,“ Benson said with a reassuring smile. “He likes to gather a crowd and rant about how he used to be a hunter and fisherman—I won’t spoil your dinner with any of the details—but he came to his senses and God told him to devote his life to returning nature to the indigenous residents.“
    “The Indians?“ Jane asked.
    “Oh, no. He says they came here from someplace else, too. No, he means plants and animals. A real Tree Hugger. But like most fanatics, he considers himself the exception. He carries on about the tourist trade bringing in all the people who wreck the land, but he doesn’t make any effort to remove his own sorry carcass from the area.”
    Shelley had put down her fork. It was a dangerous sign, when Shelley put down her silverware in the middle, let alone the beginning, of a meal, Jane thought.
    “You don’t believe in saving the wildlife?“ Shelley asked in a dangerously quiet voice.
    Benson put up his hands as if to ward off an attack. “I surely do. That’s why we left Chicago, because we love the wilderness. I’ve never shot a gun at any living thing. And I’ve never caught a fish that wasn’t intended for eating. But I’m intolerant of fanatics.”
    Shelley picked her fork back up and nodded approval.
    “Speaking of animals, there’s really an enormous variety of them in the area,“ Benson said brightly, diverting the conversation. “In each of your cabins there are several handbooks. Mammals, fish, birds, and wildflowers, plus we have a little library next to the front desk where you can borrow books about geology, climate, natural resources, and history of the area. Please feel free to consult any of the books and take them to your cabins if you like. One of the things we’re doing tomorrow is viewing a film about the natural history of this part of Wisconsin. Sounds dull, but I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
    Jane noticed that Eileen Claypool had been dividing her attention almost equally between eating and watching Bob Rycraft eat. Understandable. Watching Bob Rycraft do anything was a pleasant activity. Now Eileen tore herself away from both activities to ask, “What else will we be doing tomorrow?“
    “Anything you want,“ Benson said. “We’ve got lots of things planned, but you’re all free to participate or skip them.“
    “We’re here on behalf of the school board and the city council,“ Bob said. “I imagine we’ll all want to participate.“ Then, apparently thinking that sounded too much like an order, he added, “Or won’t we?”
    There was a noncommittal murmur around the table.
    “There’s a real country breakfast in the morning,“ Benson said. “We go a little light on lunch, so you might want to stoke up in the morning anytime between eight and ten. At ten I’ll give the official tour of the grounds and facilities. It would be a good idea for everybody to attend that.“
    “We certainly will,“ Shelley said. She made no bones about it being an order. Her tone had the precision and power of a dentist’s drill. This time the murmur was of agreement.
    Benson stared at her for a moment, collected himself, and went on.