Lake Silence

CHAPTER 83

Vicki

Windsday, Sumor 12

“You’re moving back to The Jumble tomorrow?” Julian asked as we settled in the chairs on his porch. He had a beer; I had orange juice over ice since I was still taking a nighttime pain pill in order to sleep.

“Yes, I’m going back, although I’m not sure for how long.”

“Why?”

I hesitated. I went through so much to keep The Jumble; it was hard to admit defeat. “The Jumble is kind of notorious now.” Kind of? Newspapers from Lakeside to Hubbney and all the Finger Lakes towns in between had written about the Tie Clip Club’s schemes and scandals, and the terra indigene’s retaliation against said schemes and scandals. The one good thing that had come out of all of this was that the club had been exposed as a group of wheelers and dealers who were, quite often, underhanded in their business dealings with anyone but their own members.

“I don’t think it’s likely anyone is going to want to rent one of the cabins and take a chance of being eaten,” I finished. Or bitten by critters whose happy faces hid a different, and very lethal, form of terra indigene.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Julian asked after a minute.

“Sure.”

“Yes, The Jumble has some notoriety now, and with the ban on the Tie Clip Club members and their families, you’re not likely to get the snooty crowd coming in for a weekend of summer fun.” Julian leaned forward. “But ever since the story broke, I’ve been fielding calls from people who know people who were aware that I live in Sproing: professors from the Finger Lakes universities, and not just the Intuit university; writers and photographers who provide material for magazines like Nature!; even acquaintances from Crystalton who want to get away from home for a few days but don’t want to go far. They all tried to call The Jumble directly but couldn’t get through. I’m guessing your answering machine is full of messages. Since they couldn’t reach you, they called me, and they’re all asking the same thing: are you taking reservations?

“Vicki, this is a terra indigene settlement that not only allows human visitors to be on the land; it allows them to interact with the Others in a social setting. It’s probably not the only place where that’s possible, but I think it’s among the few, and maybe the only one around the Finger Lakes. Think of it. You can swim in a lake ruled by an Elemental. You can talk to one of the Panthergard or a Bear. You can play a game of cards with a Crow. People who want to study the terra indigene in order to understand what we humans need to do in order to survive on this continent are leaving daily messages at Lettuce Reed because we need places like this. I think we always did, and that’s why Yorick Dane’s great-great aunt built this house and the cabins in the first place, so that the terra indigene could learn about humans and we could learn about them.”

“There are terra indigene living in some of the cabins. I can’t ask them to leave. It’s more their home than anyone else’s.”

“You don’t have to ask them to leave. In fact, you shouldn’t. Having a furry neighbor is part of the appeal. And I did mention that most of the cabins were basic accommodations with toilet and shower facilities in a nearby building. Apparently, when some of these people receive permission to spend a few weeks out in the wild country to do their research or take pictures, they’re living rougher than that. They were excited and made it sound like having toilets and showers at all would be a luxury. And I’ll give you one more reason for letting whoever is already living in the cabins stay on.”

“What’s that?”

Julian sat back and raised his beer bottle in a salute. “Somebody has to take care of the goats and donkeys.”