Clues At Dietz Lake
It was some sort of camping/wilderness resort place. I paid two dollars to get in. The lady in brown in the tiny cabin where they take admission was all smiles. She handed me a park map.
I unfolded it and searched for the cabins, then cabin number 43. I couldn’t find it. There was a cabin 42 and a cabin 44 way up on a hill apart from the others.
I went back to the smiling lady. “Excuse me, Miss?”
“Is there a cabin 43?”
“Do you see one on the map?”
“Then there isn’t.” She smiled and turned her back to me.
I blinked. Once, Twice, Three times, and backed away from the tiny cabin with the overly cheery, and obviously lying, lady.
I decided to hike into the park and find out for myself. I headed toward cabin 42.
16 cars passed by me towing boats, boat trailers, or RVs. None of them stopped. Lonely.
I wasn’t alone, HE was with me, and he had a blue and gray tackle box. HE fished from the dock, his pant legs rolled up mid-calf.
The memory was gone.