Backcountry Page 3

  “Are you serious?” she asked. “Here?”

  “I told you, best ice cream I’ve ever tasted!”

  They pulled up alongside the trailer and Alex rolled down his window. A bored-looking teenager with a scattering of pimples leaned out.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Blueberry for me, and—” he looked at Jenn—“a vanilla for the lady?”

  She nodded, and the teenager disappeared inside the trailer. He reappeared a moment later with two cones laden high with ice cream.

  “That’ll be two dollars.”

  Alex handed over a toonie and passed the cones across to Jenn. “Can you hang on to these?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said through a mouthful of ice cream. “But I’m not sure how much you’ll get.”

  “It’s amazing, aren’t they?” he asked as he pulled back onto the highway.

  “Yes, it is incredible.”

  She held out the blueberry cone for him to lick.

  “You like it, huh? You know, sometimes it feels like nothing is ever as good as it seemed in your childhood. Things aren’t as big, or as exiting, or as tasty—it’s like you can never go back. But this ice cream is the only exception to the rule I have ever found. I don’t know what they put in it. Hell, looking at that trailer, I probably don’t want to know. But it hasn’t changed—it’s still the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.”

  “That’s a big call,” she laughed. “It’s pretty good, but I don’t know if I would call it the best ice cream I’ve ever had.”

  “Oh? So where have you had better ice cream?” he challenged her. “Go, on, name somewhere.”

  She thought for a moment. “I can’t think of somewhere off the top of my head. But I’m sure ’ll come to me sooner or later.”

  “You just don’t want to admit that you’re wrong,” he said good-naturedly.

  “True.” She poked out her tongue.

  He chuckled and took another huge lick of his ice cream. The next few miles were spent in companionable silence as they enjoyed their cones, Jenn holding out Alex’s for him between taking licks of hers and occasionally alternating them so that they both had blue tongues.

  “Ah, that was just what I needed,” Alex said, crunching the last piece of cone. “Well, almost. There’s one more thing that I need to make this drive perfect.”

  Jenn let out a little shriek as he reached across her lap, tickling her knee, but his hand kept moving to pop open the glove compartment. He scrabbled around for moment and then, with a triumphant “Aha!” pulled out a CD in a generic case. The black-marker label simply read “On the Road Mix #1.” Jenn groaned and rolled her eyes as he made a great show of taking out the CD and inserting it into the player painfully slowly.

  “Oh, God,” she said, lowering her head in mock surrender as country music filled the car.

  He grinned and started singing, badly.

  “Never put your hat on the bed, son,

  Never put your hat on the bed

  ’Cuz if your hat’s on the bed, you

  Might wake up dead, so don’t ya

  Never put ya hat on the bed.”

  Jenn covers her ears and scrunched up her face in mock pain. “My ears! My precious ears!”

  Despite his inability to carry a tune, Alex sung with gusto, and his exaggerated expressions and complete enthusiasm soon had Jenn laughing and singing along. As they continued to drive north, their laughter and song filled the car.

  “So, are you excited about next week?” Jenn asked.

  “To be honest, I’m trying not to think about it,” Alex said. “It’s not really my comfort zone, you know?”

  She reached over and put her hand on his. “It’s going to be fine,” she said, smiling. “When the bank sees the business plan you’ve put together . . . they would be stupid not to give you a loan.”

  “That I put together? You mean you put together,” he said and over at her. “I had no idea what I was doing or what half those terms meant.”

  “You’re the one with the practical experience,” Jenn said. “I’ve got no idea how the landscaping business works. I couldn’t have done it without all the background info you gave me. All I did was turn that into language a loan officer will understand.”

  “Maybe.” He sounded skeptical. “But I really do appreciate all the help you gave me. I couldn’t have done it without you—I wouldn’t even have known where to start.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I was happy to help. You’re good with your hands; I’m good with figures. It’s nothing to feel bad about. We’ve just got different talents. I wouldn’t know which end of a hedge trimmer to hold on to, and I you’re unlikely to be preparing briefs on precedents in corporate law anytime soon. You just worry about the gardens and I’ll worry about the paperwork, okay? It was nice to get a chance to use my minor in commerce, anyway.”

  He nodded, but frowned. “Do you really think I have a chance? I mean, it’s not like I have much experience. I’ve only been doing gardens for six months now. All my experience is in construction.”

  “Yeah, but you have a talent for it. Even I can see that and I know nothing about landscaping,” she said. “I’ve got no idea what plants should go where or how much water one needs compared to another. I’m not even sure what mulch is. But I’ve seen the gardens you’ve done and I know there’s something about them that sets them apart.”

  She stopped, searching for the right words.

  “When I look at one of your gardens, it’s like you’ve taken a piece of the outdoors and put it into someone’s backyard. I don’t want to sound pretentious, but the only way I can describe it is that you create . . . an aesthetic that gives an impression of barely contained wildness, like opening the door out into a park somewhere—” she saw that Alex was staring at her.

  “Wow, Jenn. You really think that?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t know what to say.”

  “I do think that. I’m really proud of what you’ve done. And that’s why it makes me angry that you’re being taken advantage of. I mean, you’ve got people asking for you by name because they specifically want you working on their garden. People want something that sets them apart from the neighbours, especially people with too much money on their hands. But your boss still can’t give you a decent contract.”

  “Well, the economy isn’t that great,” he said.

  “Bullshit. He’s making plenty of money from your work,” she said. “That’s money you could be making. And if you go out on your own, you will be.”

  “The bank might not think that, though,” he said.

  “You’ve got enough of a potential client base already to keep you going for months. And your business plan is sound and that’s what they really care about. It’s got everything they’re looking for. You use local plants, your designs are environmentally friendly. They know there are grants you can apply for to get you started,” Jenn said. She paused for a moment. “Look, of course it’s not guaranteed; they might say no. I’ve got a good feeling about it, but it’s always better to assume the worst. Sorry I got a little carried away, but I’m just really excited for you.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, either.”

  “Anyway, so what if they say no?” she asked. “If that happens and you stay with the same company, I think you have enough leverage to get a better deal. You should go to them and tell them that if they don’t start treating you fairly, you’re going out on your own. They don’t need to know that you’ve already been to the bank.”

  “And if they laugh in my face?”

  “If they’re stupid enough to do that, then you de
finitely walk away. I really think now is the time to do this, even if it does mean we look at a second mortgage or I cash in some of my stocks. We can almost get by on my salary anyway, if we’re a bit more frugal, so it’s not like it’s a huge risk.”

  “I couldn’t ask you do that,” Alex protested.

  “Why not?” she asked. “This is meant to be a partnership, right? What’s yours is mine and all that? You aren’t asking me to do this—I want to do this. It’s good for both of us, anyway. You think I can’t see how stressed you are when you get home, how much you struggle with working for people who don’t value you? It doesn’t affect only you; it impacts me as well. I’m the one who has to live with you and I’m getting sick of walking on eggshells all the time.”

  “Wow, I can see why you do so well in court,” he said. “I’d hate to go up against you.”

  She laughed. “You know it. I’d eat you for breakfast.” She fixed him with a serious look. “Whatever happens with the bank, things are looking up, okay? We’ve gotten through the tough times and I have a good feeling about what the future holds.”

  “Me too. I’m hoping that this trip marks a new chapter for us,” Alex said. “I think when we get back, things are going to be a lot different. There are all sorts of good things in store. I can feel it, too.”

  Jenn smiled and squeezed his hand again, then turned back to the window. Suddenly, the forest didn’t seem quite so oppressive, but more like an opportunity. She had been really worried about Alex; he had a tendency to bottle things up and withdraw rather than sharing. But already, she could see traces of the old Alex returning, as if the closer they got to the park, the more weight came off his shoulders. If this trip was going to bring them closer together and open him up, then a lack of plumbing seemed a small price to pay.

  “How much longer is it to the ranger’s cabin?”

  Alex looked at his watch. “About forty-five minutes. We’ll get our park permit and pick up our canoe. By the time we paddle up the lake and hike our way to the campsite, it’ll be almost time for dinner. We should set up camp before it gets dark. It’s going to be great, I promise.”

  By the time they reached the ranger’s cabin, the asphalt had long since given way to hard-packed dirt. It was riddled with potholes, and Alex’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly as he carefully guided the car around them that Jenn could see his knuckles whiten. Letting him focus on the road, she looked around at the scenery. The woods had really closed in now, and the road had narrowed to the point where cars coming in opposite directions had to be careful passing one another. The lines of trees on either side were broken only by the occasional trail that led deeper into the forest. Jenn knew from her research that they were fire access trails for the need that might arise in the summer months, but they made the road they were on look like a highway. She wondered how anyone could get up here during the winter months after it had been raining or, even worse, snowing. She shuddered at the thought of having an accident or a heart attack or something like that with no way of getting help. The thought of winter brought another unpleasant thought to mind.

  “How cold is it going to get up here?” she asked. “Have I got enough gear?”

  Alex didn’t look away from the road to answer.

  “We’ll be fine. The sleeping bag we have is rated for far worse conditions than we’ll have to deal with. In fact, we might even be too warm in there,” he replied. “This time of year is perfect for camping. Ah, here we are.”

  She looked where he was pointing. The ranger’s cabin was well maintained; whoever was stationed there obviously took his or her job seriously. It was made out of logs and looked old, like something in a classic movie, but it was well repaired. There was a well-tended garden to one side, and everything about the cabin gave the sense of being looked after. Jenn thought she would like the person responsible for caring for the building. This thought was only reinforced by the large plaque that commemorated the cultural heritage of the park and recognized the original owners of the land. The sign boasted “some of the most beautiful trails you will ever see and an experience you will never forget.” Jenn hoped that was the case.

  As lovely as the cabin was, though, something about it made Jenn uneasy. She could feel herself tensing up, and she looked around, trying to work out what was provoking this seemingly irrational response. It was only when she looked away from the cabin and at the woods that she understood what was bothering her. Aside from the gravel parking lot and the road that led further on toward the lake, the cabin was the only sign of human habitation. Compared to the towering trees that seemed to cluster menacingly around it, the cabin seemed tiny, insignificant. It looked out of place, even unwanted. Instead of adding a human presence to the forest, it only served to remind Jenn how far away they were away from everything she was used to. She found herself wishing she was back in the city where the buildings outnumbered the trees, not the other way around, and where she was always surrounded by people.

  The car crunched over perfectly raked gravel as they pulled up alongside the cabin and came to a gentle stop.

  “Let’s check in first,” Alex said.

  Jenn noticed that the front room was a combination gift shop and information kiosk. There were racks of brochures and maps, books about the park’s history and notable features, and a messy pile of free postcards. The ranger smiled at them and put down his paper as they entered. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, with shrewd eyes that crinkled at the corners as he looked them up and down. His regulation Parks Ontario shirt bulged at his waist, which surprised Jenn, but for all that, he looked fit and had the tanned, leathery skin of the lifelong outdoorsman. Jenn assumed that he had probably grown up around here and knew the park like the back of his hand.

  “Hey there, folks, how are you?”

  Jenn stood back as Alex approached the desk.

  “Good, thanks,” he said. “We’ve got a reservation.”

  The ranger pulled out a thick, leather-bound ledger and opened it. “Your name?”

  “Alex Lewis.” Alex slid his ID toward the ranger, but the other man ignored it.

  “Here you are. You’re paid in full and ready to go. Your canoe is number six. You can pick it up at the boat launch.” He looked back down at the paper. “And you’re returning Monday by five?”

  “Yeah, back to work on Tuesday.”

  Jenn flicked through the brochures on the rack. She ignored the sign-up sheets for summer camps and lifeguard lessons, but fixed upon one snarling image. As if hypnotized, she pulled out the brochure and stared at the picture of the black bear on the front. Above the bear were the words, “Would you know what to do?” Underneath it read, “Be aware of bears in our park.”

  Behind her, Alex and the ranger continued chatting. Then Alex turned to see what she was doing.

  “Jenn?”

  She quickly shoved the pamphlet into her pocket, feeling absurdly guilty, as if she had been caught doing something wrong. She joined them at the counter. The ranger nodded to her, then turned back to Alex.

  “Need a map, son?”

  “No, I’m good,” he replied.

  “Are you sure about that? I’d hate to see you get lost up there.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can find my way around,” he said stiffly.

  The ranger grunted noncommittally at that, as if it weren’t worth commenting, and folded the map away.

  “A bit late in the season, don’t you think?”

  “Fewer people,” Alex said.

  “Amen to that,” said the ranger. It was the first time he had sounded slightly agreeable.

  “Not my first rodeo,” Alex said.
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br />   That didn’t seem to impress the ranger as much. “Where are you thinking of going?”

  “Blackfoot Trail. We’re planning on camping there Sunday—our last night. I can’t wait to show it to her. It’s her first time.”

  “Bad news. Blackfoot Trail is closed for the season.”

  “What? Why?” Alex asked, his voice rising.

  “Too many yahoos trampling all over it. It’s a treasured site, so the park wants to keep it that way.”

  Alex leaned forward, hands gripping the countertop. “Are you serious?”

  The ranger didn’t even blink. “Dead serious.”

  “And there’s no way around that?”

  “Nope.”

  Jenn was starting to wonder whether the ranger was getting some sort of kick out of giving what he probably thought of as city folks a hard time.

  “Being there at sunset was kind of the whole point,” Alex said. Jenn didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was having difficulty controlling his temper. “Why wasn’t this updated on your website?”

  The ranger ignored Alex’s tone. “It’s a five-hundred-dollar fine,” he said, locking eyes with Alex, “if we catch anyone up there.”

  They stared at each other for a moment.

  “Okay. I get it.” Alex turned back to Jenn. “Ready?”

  “Yeah, let’s go,” she said.

  They’d almost left when the ranger called out, stopping them at the door.

  “Rodeo,” he said. He slammed a clear plastic container with a screw-top lid onto the counter. In it was a small medical kit and a whistle with a string wound through it. “Try not to lose it and I’ll try not to charge you.”

  “Five hundred dollars?”

  The ranger winked. “Funny. Oh, and here you go.” He handed Alex a laminated card. “Your permit. Leave it on the dash of your car.”