Star Gazing

Star Gazing

Jack and Robin lived a quiet life in Davenport Iowa. Married the same week they graduated from Iowa State, they had good jobs at a local bank and the city’s library. Their vacations were split between snow sports, in Colorado or other parts of the Rockies, and summers of camping, boating, and hiking. Every summer they explored a new area, and this year it was the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota. 

With their canoe strapped to the top of their van, they were excited about the trip; canoeing on the lakes, camping in the wilderness, fishing, hiking, exploring an area they’d heard and read so much about.

They’d read of the wildlife adventures other campers had in the area. They knew they could see in the Northern Minnesota wilderness; deer, moose, beaver, otter, mink, lynx, bobcat, and timber wolf and black bear. A reasonable trepidation about the bear population convinced them to pack Jack’s pistol, an old 45 his father carried in the second world war and given to him when he got married. He’d always been comfortable with firearms; hunting birds, coyote, and small game.

In September the night skies were usually clear, the air brisk with the anticipation of winter. And the northern lights, the aurora borealis, were said to be particularly vibrant in the fall. While being lulled by the quiet sounds of the wilderness, they watched the light show in the sky, and the stars that seemed to hide in the colors. 

Constantly shifting, moving across the darkness. Quiet greens and pale blues, a pretty picture.. Each evening, after dinner and with the cooking gear stowed, they settled back to watch the light show, warmed by their fire, and mugs of red wine. 

The quiet was tangible. Life in the city, even a medium sized city like Davenport, was never truly quiet. People, vehicles, and the business of the city had a sound, a rhythm, that was absent in the forest. Large evergreens swayed ponderously in the evening breeze, while deciduous trees waved their complex arms and causing their leaves to rustle before their fall. These all provided a gentle susurration, suggesting a time for bed.

They’d planned for the chill of fall in the north woods. A Minneapolis friend said he’d moved there “Because the weather’s better than Iowa”. There, winters could be bone chilling, but Minnesota has a national reputation for cold. Iowa is mostly known for corn, tornados, and football. Jack and Robin knew all about cold, and were prepared with fluffy down sleeping bags, self filling bed pads, stocking caps, and wooly socks.

Each day brought a new hike, or a new body of water to be explored. The canoe was light enough for short portages, and both of them were fit from their daily fitness routines in Davenport. Hiking or canoeing, they took time to fish. They also brought vacuum flasks of coffee, tea, and one with a nice white wine. They didn’t want days of hardship, just a time to enjoy the woods, the clean clear air, and each other.

One day they met another hiker. An older fellow, he appeared wizened by time and weather. While they liked being alone together, Robin had said “Alone is ok, sometimes, but being alone is lonely too. Isn’t it?” Their life in the city was always with friends or workmates, or family. Never really alone.

They exchanged greetings, and the man said to call him Carl. Sitting around their campfire they talked about the wilderness area, camping, canoeing, and the animals they’d seen. Talk turned to hiking, and they told their new friend, about hiking in Glacier Park, the Tetons, and around their state. He told them about the wilderness area, the hunting he’d done, and more. They settled into a pleasant rhythm, and Robin asked if Carl would join them for dinner “It’s only camp food. We just add water and heat, and it’s not bad.” Carl accepted the invitation, then turned to remove his backpack, and take off his jacket.

Jack noticed that Carl had a long treacherous looking knife hanging from his belt, tied to his thigh. Bothered by this, he excused himself and went into their tent. He unpacked the pistol he’d brought, feeling uncomfortable with their new camp mate.

After their dinner Robin left for the lakeshore and a sponge bath, while the men continued to talk about the region they were in. Carl said he was retired from the military, and had been on the road, hiking, for the last six months.

Robin returned, and Jack excused himself to freshen up. When he returned, smiling and refreshed, he didn’t see Robin, or Carl. Their camp was not disturbed, just scuffs in the dirt where Robin had sat. Worried, he quickly put on boots and a jacket, and with his gun in hand he left to look for his wife. 

He mumbled to himself “Damn, we shouldn’t have trusted that guy. Alone, in the woods, he could be all kinds of bad.” While years past his eagle scout days, he felt he could still track someone in the woods. He followed a freshly disturbed animal track, hoping he was doing right. Worn down from the anxiety and stress of his wife’s dilemma, he stopped to rest and to listen to the forest and its night sounds. And he heard a human sound. He moved toward it, and saw two people wrestling in an open area. 

The man, he was able to see it was Carl, had his knife out and was threatening Robin. She was backing away, pleading, sobbing. Jack quietly moved the slide on the gun to load a shell, crept toward the two, then from about 15 yards, stood and shouted at Carl to drop the knife and move away from Robin.

Carl spun around, moved to grab Robin, and Jack shot him. The bullet hit him in the chest and knocked him down. Jack ran to Robin, pulled her close, and said, “It’s OK honey, he’s done.” Then he kicked the terrible looking knife out of Carl’s hand.

Using Carl’s belt they tied his hands behind his back, and left him on his back while they walked to their camp. With no cellular service or phone lines, they had no way to get help unless they walked out. While Robin settled her nerves Jack packed for their walk. “We’ll walk out honey. We passed an outfitter camp on our way in. They’ll help us. Carl will keep, and we’ll come back for the rest.”

Robin smiled, put her hand on Jacks back and her head on his shoulder. “Thanks babe. He can rot for all I care. He’s got a bed of forest brush, and a terrific view of the stars.”