early nineties? Only lived out here several months of the year back then. Well, not here exactly. There’s a shack down the lake a-ways. He lived in that till this cabin was built. Then he lived here all the time near the end. Passed it onto his son when he died, I guess. That’s the one that pays me, the son. Old man Wagner wasn’t from around here.”
“You mean Culpepper?”
“No. I mean this country. Had some kind of accent. You could understand him okay, but it was some kind of European accent. Sounded a bit like that big muscular fella, you know the actor who became a governor?”
“Arnold Schwarzenegger?” Jack said.
“That’s the one. Old man Wagner sounded a bit like him when he talked. Of course, he wasn’t all muscle-bound like Schwarzenegger. But I gotta tell you, he had his own way of intimidating people, if you know what I mean.”
Jack did not.
“Old man Wagner wasn’t friendly like his son is. The few times I talked with him, he’d barely say anything in reply. He was a strange one. Had this fierce look in his eyes. I was a younger man then, bigger than I am now. Linebacker in high school if you can believe it. Wasn’t afraid-a nothing. But if I’m being honest, I was afraid-a him. Made me feel like he’d snap my neck if I crossed him. So, I pretty much left him alone, and he left me alone. And we got along just fine after that.”
“You remember when he died, the old man?” Jack didn’t know why he was asking these kinds of questions. It was none of his business.
“Old man Wagner’s been dead a good while. Ten, maybe fifteen years. Don’t remember exactly when. Had some kind of bad stroke. Almost felt sorry for him, seeing what it did to him there at the end. Killed him slow. He just wasted away, sitting out here all by himself for the most part. The son hired nurses to look after him the last few years. They didn’t live out here. Came out most every day there at the end.” Bass looked around, then up at the sky. “Anyway, I better move on before I lose all the light. Gotta get home, exchange this rifle for my fishing pole.” He smiled. “Fishing’s great on this lake, by the way, if you wanna join me some time.”
“Maybe,” Jack said. “Thanks for the offer.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fished.
“Well, I better git. Glad you weren’t an intruder. Would a-hated to have to shoot ya. You need me, just head west through the woods a bit. I’m the next place over.” He smiled and walked off the porch the way he came.
Jack closed the door. So…Mr. Bass would become his permanent neighbor if Jack bought the place. Should he put the checkmark for that in the pro or con column? He walked toward the living area, mostly thinking about the things Bass had said about old man Wagner. Had to be some kind of a story there. A moment ago, this cabin was just a cozy little place on a quiet lake. Now, it had some history.
Hmmm. Old man Wagner.
He may have been dead for decades, but Jack was all about history. He loved snooping into stories about interesting old guys who’d been dead for decades.
13
The following morning, Jack decided he would head outside and enjoy this fresh air, but first he wanted to improve the quality of the air inside the cabin. Last evening and all the way until bedtime, he’d noticed how musty and stale it felt in here. Another evidence the cabin hadn’t been used in a while was the little dust cloud that lifted off the braided, oval throw rug in the living room whenever he walked across it. The same thing happened with the rug upstairs in the loft.
He carefully grabbed both throw rugs, brought them outside and laid them across the wood railing. He’d found a broom in the pantry, brought it out and started whacking them. Kept it up until no more dust came out. The porch quickly filled with a thick gray cloud. He had to step off it every thirty seconds or so to catch his breath. Then he used the broom to break up the dust cloud,
“You mean Culpepper?”
“No. I mean this country. Had some kind of accent. You could understand him okay, but it was some kind of European accent. Sounded a bit like that big muscular fella, you know the actor who became a governor?”
“Arnold Schwarzenegger?” Jack said.
“That’s the one. Old man Wagner sounded a bit like him when he talked. Of course, he wasn’t all muscle-bound like Schwarzenegger. But I gotta tell you, he had his own way of intimidating people, if you know what I mean.”
Jack did not.
“Old man Wagner wasn’t friendly like his son is. The few times I talked with him, he’d barely say anything in reply. He was a strange one. Had this fierce look in his eyes. I was a younger man then, bigger than I am now. Linebacker in high school if you can believe it. Wasn’t afraid-a nothing. But if I’m being honest, I was afraid-a him. Made me feel like he’d snap my neck if I crossed him. So, I pretty much left him alone, and he left me alone. And we got along just fine after that.”
“You remember when he died, the old man?” Jack didn’t know why he was asking these kinds of questions. It was none of his business.
“Old man Wagner’s been dead a good while. Ten, maybe fifteen years. Don’t remember exactly when. Had some kind of bad stroke. Almost felt sorry for him, seeing what it did to him there at the end. Killed him slow. He just wasted away, sitting out here all by himself for the most part. The son hired nurses to look after him the last few years. They didn’t live out here. Came out most every day there at the end.” Bass looked around, then up at the sky. “Anyway, I better move on before I lose all the light. Gotta get home, exchange this rifle for my fishing pole.” He smiled. “Fishing’s great on this lake, by the way, if you wanna join me some time.”
“Maybe,” Jack said. “Thanks for the offer.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fished.
“Well, I better git. Glad you weren’t an intruder. Would a-hated to have to shoot ya. You need me, just head west through the woods a bit. I’m the next place over.” He smiled and walked off the porch the way he came.
Jack closed the door. So…Mr. Bass would become his permanent neighbor if Jack bought the place. Should he put the checkmark for that in the pro or con column? He walked toward the living area, mostly thinking about the things Bass had said about old man Wagner. Had to be some kind of a story there. A moment ago, this cabin was just a cozy little place on a quiet lake. Now, it had some history.
Hmmm. Old man Wagner.
He may have been dead for decades, but Jack was all about history. He loved snooping into stories about interesting old guys who’d been dead for decades.
13
The following morning, Jack decided he would head outside and enjoy this fresh air, but first he wanted to improve the quality of the air inside the cabin. Last evening and all the way until bedtime, he’d noticed how musty and stale it felt in here. Another evidence the cabin hadn’t been used in a while was the little dust cloud that lifted off the braided, oval throw rug in the living room whenever he walked across it. The same thing happened with the rug upstairs in the loft.
He carefully grabbed both throw rugs, brought them outside and laid them across the wood railing. He’d found a broom in the pantry, brought it out and started whacking them. Kept it up until no more dust came out. The porch quickly filled with a thick gray cloud. He had to step off it every thirty seconds or so to catch his breath. Then he used the broom to break up the dust cloud,
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