Chapter 4 #2
There were glass doors on his left, labeled “Office,” and he went through them.
A middle-aged woman with gray hair and sharp glasses sat behind a computer. A nameplate on her desk said “Danielle.” She looked up when he entered and frowned at him.
“Hello,” she said, in a tone that suggested the “bad cop” in an FBI interrogation.
Drew almost felt like apologizing for his intrusion. “Hi,” he said. “I’m staying in town for the summer, and I wanted to take a look at the camp. Are the owners or directors around? I would love to say hi.”
“They’re very busy,” Danielle continued, and it sounded very much like she thought he was a silly man for his request.
“Of course,” Drew said. “I understand.” He hesitated.
He didn’t like pulling the “money” card, but he really wanted to see the camp.
“You see, I donated some money to the camp a few years ago, and I’ve never had the chance to see the property.
Is there any chance you could see if either of the owners is available to speak to me, and maybe show me around?
” He knew from the camp’s website that it was owned by a married couple, Don and Laurel Ackermann.
Danielle’s countenance immediately changed at the mention of money.
“Ah, well, you should’ve led with that,” she said warmly.
“We’re always happy to have donors take a look at what they’ve helped sustain.
I’ll radio and see if anyone is available.
” She picked up a Walkie-Talkie and spoke into it.
“Don, Laurel, are either of you available? We have a gentleman in the main offices who’d like to speak to you.
He donated some money to the camp and would like to see the property. ”
The radio crackled, and a man’s voice said. “I’ll be down in a second.”
Danielle replaced her radio in its cradle. “That was Don. He’s one of the owners. Would you like some water? Coffee?”
Because she was offering, Drew said, “I’ll take a coffee.”
Danielle stood and went to a shelf along one wall, taking an electronic coffee pot and filling two classic camping coffee mugs—black with white speckles and the Orion’s Belt Hockey Camp logo on the front. She handed him one. “There’s sugar here, and cream in the mini fridge.”
He thanked her, doctored his coffee, and sat in a soft leather chair to wait.
He didn’t have to wait long. Don Ackermann entered the office soon after Drew had sat down.
Don was a tall middle-aged man, maybe fifty-five or sixty.
He was fit, broad-shouldered, and had short gray hair that still showed some blonde on the top.
He wore a forest green polo shirt and khaki shorts, and he seemed vaguely familiar.
Drew was sure he’d never seen Don before, but maybe he’d seen someone who looked like him.
It wasn’t implausible. He’d already noticed that most of the people in Orion were tall and light-haired; Gabriel had explained this was because many of the European settlers of the area had been Dutch or German, and they had retained their heritage.
It was a phenomenon of most of the west coast of Michigan, he’d said.
You’d seen lots of Dutch and German last names, all of which were hard to pronounce.
Don Ackermann introduced himself by saying his name and thrusting his hand forward to shake. Drew stood, gripped the offered hand, and introduced himself as Drew. He didn’t share his last name.
“It’s good to meet you, Drew,” Don said. “Danielle told me you donated some money to the camp? We always appreciate a donation. Would you like a short tour?”
“That would be great,” Drew said. “I’ll admit, I didn’t know I’d donated the money. It was through a charitable foundation I had set up. My manager and staff mostly handle those things. But I’m excited to see what you’re doing here.”
“Manager and staff, huh?” Don asked. He seemed curious about that, but didn’t press. Midwestern discretion and all that.
Drew nodded. “That’s right.”
As Don held the door to leave the office, his curiosity seemed to get the best of him. “I didn’t catch your last name.” An oblique way of saying that Drew hadn’t given it.
“Drew Moreau,” Drew filled in, after Don had shut the door behind him. He had a feeling that Danielle might be a gossip, and he didn’t want news of his presence in Orion to spread. He also had a feeling he could trust Don.
Don smiled good-naturedly. “I thought you looked familiar. I hope you won’t ask for your money back when I say that I cheer for the Detroit Motors, instead of the Boston Minutemen. I was disappointed when we lost the Cup.”
“No offense taken,” Drew said, matching Don’s smile. “Makes sense that you’d cheer for your state’s team.”
They were back in the main building’s lobby.
The wooden walls and framed pictures of campers and staff, which looked like they went back many decades.
The oldest were in black and white. There were also banners and pennants of various NHL teams. The most prominently displayed were for the Detroit Motors, though Drew spotted a Boston Minutemen flag on one wall, near a sign for the bathrooms. He smiled.
“I’m sorry,” Don continued. “Without checking our records, I won’t know what we used your donation for.”
“That’s fine. I’m sure it went to good use. I’d just love to see the camp, and hear about what you do.”
“Of course.”
Don was a good tour guide. He showed Drew around the camp, which was large and had many buildings.
Don explained that their main focus was hockey, and they mostly served campers from Michigan, though some campers came from Wisconsin, or from Canada, and every year they had a few campers from other States farther away.
The biggest building on the property was, of course, their ice rink, which was housed in a large corrugated metal building.
“It’s not much,” Don said, “but it gets the job done. It could use an update,” he admitted, and then immediately looked embarrassed. “I hope you don’t think I’m asking for more money by saying that.”
“I understand,” Drew said kindly. “This is nice.”
“Nothing like what you’re used to, I’m sure.” Don sounded almost embarrassed.
“It’s not the facility that matters,” Drew said. “It’s the players in the facility.”
“That’s right.” Don sighed as they entered the ice rink and surveyed the bleachers set up around the ice.
He was right, the facility could use a makeover.
“I just wish more of our campers and families saw it that way. We used to have a strong heritage here, where former campers would send their kids, but now with more exclusive hockey clubs and training camps, it’s getting harder to keep campers coming here.
We just can’t compete with places that have nicer facilities to offer.
People care less about relationships now and more about what they can get from a program.
” He shrugged. “I understand, but it’s hard on our budget.
I’m sorry, I keep talking about money. It’s just been on my mind recently.
” He rubbed his face, looking stressed and very tired.
Drew felt bad for him and almost wished he hadn’t stopped by.
He knew Don wasn’t fishing for money, but it was still a bit awkward.
“I saw on your website that you’re starting your first session next week,” he said, hoping to change the subject. “When do campers get here?”
The topic of campers seemed to cheer Don up. “Monday,” he said. “The rest of the staff gets here this weekend.”
“You run the camp with your wife, right?”
“That’s right, and with the help of one of my sons.
He actually did my job last year when I was in treatment.
” He caught the question in Drew’s eye and said, “Cancer. In remission now, but Gabe has stayed on this year as Assistant Director of the boys’ camp because my doctors are worried about the stress of me working full time.
” He laughed and shook his head. “I’m unloading all of this on you.
I’m sorry. It’s been a stressful week—our head coach for the boys’ camp quit earlier this week, very unexpectedly, and we’re still trying to find a replacement. ”
“I see.” Drew’s mind was spinning, and he barely heard anything Don had said after uttering the name “Gabe.” Surely Don didn’t mean the same Gabriel that Drew had met earlier that morning.
That felt like it would be too big a coincidence, but it was a small town, and maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think that Gabriel and Gabe were the same person.
“I’m glad you’re better,” Drew said, shaking himself back into the conversation. “Sounds like a family business.”
“It is, though Gabe isn’t as big a hockey fan as I am. He was very kind to move back here after college.” Don sighed. “I feel bad; it ruined his plans to move to the city. He’s always been a big city kid at heart, though I hope that he’ll never forget this place.”
“Sounds like a good guy,” Drew said, his mouth very dry, now almost certain that Don was talking about the very same Gabriel that Drew had met that morning. He was suddenly nervous that he would run into Gabriel here, and decided that it was time that he should leave.
“He is,” Don agreed. He laughed again. “I’m telling you all this stuff you didn’t ask about. I bet I sound like an old man rambling the way that I’m going on. Sorry. Is there anything else I can show you?”
“No need to apologize,” Drew said. “I’m glad I got the chance to see the place. Thank you. Also, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that I’m staying in town. I’m trying to keep a low profile this summer,” he admitted.
“Of course,” said Don. “Your secret is safe with me.” He looked hopeful.
“If you ever wanted to, though, it would be great if you could stop by and show us some stuff on the ice. I’m sure the kids would love that.
We wouldn’t tell them who you are, and no offense, but I don’t think most kids would recognize you. ”