Day 19

She wound her way to the Southside Addition and found Hugo’s house at the end of Hugo’s street.
Hugo’s house wasn’t exactly at the end of the street. Next to him sat two other houses on his side, and then the abandoned house next to Mrs. McGregor’s was technically farther down that his. Of the neighbors next to him, he knew very little. The one closest was a rental: people always seemed to be moving in or moving out. In the last house on the street lived a man with even more peculiar habits than Hugo’s. He rarely went out, and when he did he always climbed up onto the canal bank, leaving the neighborhood by that route. Hugo had talked to him once, but not for very long.
When Mandy arrived, the neighborhood seemed deserted, except for Mrs. McGregor working in her yard. Mandy had met Mrs. McGregor twice before. She waved as she pulled up in front of Hugo’s house. Mandy got out and strode to Hugo’s door. She knocked on Hugo’s door and waited. A cat jumped into the front window and looked at her standing on the porch. Mandy waved at the cat, then wondered why she did. She knocked again. The cat cleaned itself.
She turned to go. When she reached her can, Mrs. McGregor called out: “He’s gone off with Bonanza.”
“Oh,” Mandy replied. She wondered what she should do next. “Do you know where they went?”
“I do.”
Mandy considered this. “Can you tell me?”
“I’m sorry, dear, I can’t,” said Mrs. McGregor setting her hoe against the fence and walking toward Mandy through the gate.
“Well, do you know when they will be back?”
Mrs. McGregor walked up to Mandy. She laid a hand on Mandy’s arm as Mandy held on to the door handle, waiting to see what would happen next. “Listen,” Mrs. McGregor said. “You want to go back down to the refuge, am I right?”
Mandy paused for a second, then said, “Yes. I thought that I might have a look at Skeleton Cave during the day light, instead of in the dark.”
Mrs. McGregor nodded. “I think that Hugo and Bonanza will be tied up most of the day. I’ll go get my coat and flashlight.”
Mandy considered this. She thought that she should say no, but then decided that the company would be nice on the ride down. By the time she looked up, Mrs. McGregor had already gone into the house. Mandy looked up the street toward the canal bank. She could see that the cottonwoods had almost lost their leaves; one looked especially bare, only a few yellow-orange leaves clinging to the middle branches. A hawk sat in that tree. It didn’t hunt, but only sat.
Mrs. McGregor returned. “Here we are, then,” she said as she walked to the passenger side door. She had a coat and flashlight, a large aluminum barreled one that took many large batteries. She also had a small satchel, though Mandy could tell right away that it was not a purse. Mrs. McGregor waited patiently for Mandy do get in the car and unlock her door. Mandy slid in, reached over to unlock the passenger door, then started up the car. Mrs. McGregor climbed in and made herself comfortable. “I haven’t been down to the refuge in years,” she said. “How exciting.”
Mandy smiled and buckled herself in. She drove to the end of the road and turned around. Mrs. McGregor looked at the last house and scowled a bit. Mandy didn’t notice as she straightened out the car and headed it toward the highway. She checked the gas gauge and decided that they had better fill up before they left town. She didn’t want to chance running out of gas miles from nowhere, and no one. She stopped at the same station that Dr. Bonanza frequented.
After she told the attendant what she wanted in the way of fuel, she asked Mrs. McGregor if she wanted anything from the convenience store. Mrs. McGregor said that she would like a candy bar, but that she didn’t know what kind that they had these days, “I haven’t had a candy bar for ages. Just get me something that you like.”
Mandy went in, thinking about what she should buy; rarely did Mandy have a candy bar these days either. She chose a bag of chips and a large orange juice for herself, then had a look at the candy display.
As she stood trying to decide another man walked into the store: “Hello, Joe,” he said. “Did you hear about the man hunt? They think that they might have a lead on who’s been killing those animals.” Mandy concentrated on the conversation.
“I did hear that,” said Joe. “Old McGillicuty, was in here this morning. He says that they are looking up around two rabbit lake. Maybe some kind of squatter.”
“Well, I hope they catch the sonofabitch,” said the man. He paid his bill and left the store.
Mandy quickly chose a candy bar and went to the cash register. She wondered if maybe there would be information in the morning paper. She paid for her gas and groceries. She asked for change for the paper box as well. As she exited the store, she looked for the man with the information, but the only car in sight was her own. She climbed in, almost breathless. She wanted to relay the information to Mrs. McGregor, anyone really, but she hesitated, wondering even why she had brought Mrs. McGregor along. She handed the candy bar to her, and started the car. As they pulled out of the gas station lot, she decided that she would tell Mrs. McGregor what she, Hugo, and Bonanza had been doing they day before.
“I have something to confess,” she started.
“I know all about it. I spoke with Dr. Bonanza last night,” said Mrs. McGregor.
Mandy looked at her and nearly swerved into a mailbox. She hadn’t thought that maybe Dr. Bonanza knew Mrs. McGregor. “So, you know that we were scared pretty good out at Skeleton Cave last night?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Mario told me all about it.” Mrs. McGregor sat sweetly in the passenger seat placidly gazing out the windshield.
It dawned on Mandy that Mario, must be Dr. Bonanza’s first name. She had never really thought about it before. He had always been Dr. Bonanza. She had no idea what his degree had been in, but she had taken a class from him as an undergrad at Hedlund. Then it dawned on Mandy that Mrs. McGregor --now she wondered what her first name might be-- and Dr. Bonanza, Mario, knew each other. And possibly had for quite some time. Mandy thought about yesterday’s events, but chose to pursue more pressing matters.
“I’m sorry to be so forward, Mrs. McGregor, but how do you know Dr. Bonanza?” she asked.
“Please, dear, call me Eseme. Well, we go back a long ways. I knew him during the war.” She didn’t offer anything else. Mandy thought about pushing farther, but felt that it would be too impolite.
“Did Dr. Bonanza tell you about the symbols that we found?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Mrs. McGregor.
Mandy waited for more. She said, “What do you think about them?”
Mrs. McGregor tilted her head and smile faintly, “I think that he’s barking up the wrong tree.”
Mandy relayed the information that she had overheard at the gas station.
“Yes, well the police must try to do something,” responded Mrs. McGregor.
Mandy began to wonder about her passenger. The two previous times that they had met, Mrs. McGregor, Eseme, had been quite the chatter box. One time telling Hugo a story about some trip that she had taken as a girl. And the other time pontificating on the virtues of a well kept garden (that time the audience seemed to be the garden at large). They rode in silence for a time.
They passed Dr. Bonanza’s drive. Mrs. McGregor either didn’t notice or chose not to point it out. Mandy noted the name on the mailbox; neither did she, however, say anything about it. She looked down the drive, seeing two housed in the distance, but not knowing which Bonanza lived in. The sun began to warm the earth and the ponds and watering troughs began to steam. The air remained cold, however. Fall had settled into the McLoughlin valley and winter wouldn’t be far behind.
They entered the refuge and Mandy checked her watch: half past nine. She wondered what time the visitor center opened. It was located down the road about three miles from the turn off to Skeleton Cave.
“I’d like to go to the visitor center and see if we can talk with the ranger who hauled off the deer carcass, if you don’t mind,” she said.
“Oh, that would be lovely, dear,” said Mrs. McGregor. “Maybe we can spend some time looking at the exhibits”
“Sure.”
The drove through the refuge, and passed the turn for Skeleton Cave. Mandy tried to see if any new tracks had been left in the gravel road. She knew that Hugo could have done it, but just driving by, she had no chance at it. She shrugged and drove on. The road curved away to the west and down a small ravine; the visitor center stood on the south bank. The pulled into the parking lot, and into a parking place. It looked deserted. Mandy assumed the worst, that they were closed on Sundays. She turned off the car and got out to check the door anyway. Mrs. McGregor followed.
When they reached the door, it swung outward almost hitting them.
“Oh!” Mandy cried.
A tall, thin ranger in his mid fifties stepped out. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, grabbing her arm to steady her. Mrs. McGregor stepped back, perfectly calm.
“We were just wondering if you are open today,” Mandy stammered.
“We are,” he said looking at his watch. “But not for another ten minutes.” He scratched his chin. “I’ll tell you what. I have to run a quick errand. Why don’t you two go on in. You can have a look at the exhibits, and the gift area. How does that sound?”
The two women thanked him and went in.
“He seemed nice,” said Mrs. McGregor when they were alone.
Mandy nodded and looked around. Directly in front of them stood a square counter. On it were spread maps of varying scale of the refuge and some of its caves. She glanced at them, but maps had never interested her. To the left and extending around to the back of the counter stood the gift area. She could see books on bats, geology, and birds. Other sundry items lined the shelves. She had never been that enamored with gift-shop gifts either. To the right and down a hallway Mrs. McGregor walked toward the exhibits. Mandy followed giving a cursory glance to each diorama depicting either cataclysmic eruptions eons ago, or native peoples engaged in the rituals of every day life: house building, weapon making, food gathering.
She stopped and looked more closely when she came to a series of photographs depicting pictograph and petroglyphs. She scanned each photo looking for the symbols that they had seen on the trees, but none of them looked familiar. In fact, she became less sure what the originals looked like, the more she looked at the photos. She scanned the captions and was surprised to find that many of the pictures were from far away, Arizona, Illinois, Japan, and Uganda. Beside the pictures of the petroglyphs in the refuge, she could discern many similarities.
She had almost given it up when something caught her eye. She had to turn her head to the left and kind of squint, but she felt sure that she saw the outline of the middle symbol, as she remembered it. This one, however, had been obscured by another symbol that looked something like a tree that had been broken, its top laying beside the trunk on the right side. Mrs. McGregor joined her, but didn’t say anything right away.