Chapter 4 - Leaving the Lakeside
The sign on the Dairy Queen door read, TAKE OUT ONLY, so they took their food outside to the firepit.
“DQ’s at home aren’t like this. Not this big and no firepit.” Grace unwrapped her chili cheese dog halfway, then left it on the bag in her lap. She wanted her milkshake. She had to admit — not to Robby — this was a good idea.
Robby was well into his own chili cheese dog. “We’re way off schedule, you know.” He looked at her over the top of his dog.
“I figured. You want to get on the road, don’t you?”
“No. Just letting you know. It’s starting to sink in that I don’t have to go . . . anywhere. My schedule’s my own. I think I’m going to like it . . . at least . . . until . . .”
“Until what?”
“I get . . . caught up on sleep and . . . bored . . . I guess.”
“What happens when you get bored?”
“I leave. But not this time. So to answer your question, I have no idea. Like you at the airport. Right now, I’m taking it moment to moment.
” He stuffed the last couple inches of chili cheese dog into his mouth and reached for his malt.
Chewing, he said, “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these.
Maybe I can gain some weight during this thing. ”
Grace shivered. “I don’t see how you drink that stuff. Yuck.”
“You don’t like malt? . . . No . . . of course you don’t . . . if I do. I may have to rethink my offer.”
“Don’t do that. I need to get to Olsson’s and back to the Lakeside.”
Robby looked at Grace. “So, what you’re saying is you’re using me . . . and you’re not joking.” He took a long drink on the straw, looking at Grace. “This is new for me. Like I said, different.” He took another sip, thinking. “It seems like I should get something in return.”
“You are. The pleasure of my company.”
“When’s that start?”
Grace made a face. “Look, I’m serious—”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Shut up. I don’t know a thing about your old world. To me, you’re just an older guy who’s pretty full of himself but has a pickup, and I need rides.”
“I hear you. I’m trying to believe it. We should head to Olsson’s, though, before I change my mind.” He picked up their trash. “How ‘bout you take my malt while I put this stuff in the bin?”
“Yuck!”
“Do you want a ride or not?” He laughed and walked off.
*******
They went into the grocery store, masked.
Robby visited with the owners and some customers.
They each ended up with several boxes of groceries.
Some needed to go in the cooler. “No problem,” said the Olssons, when they were checking out.
Gene Olsson looked at Grace. “We can hold these till you’re ready to leave Grand Marais.
Robby says you’re headed up the Trail tomorrow with a lodge owner.
That sounds like you’re going with Jim Pedersen, ‘cause Jim comes to town on Thursdays to get supplies. If that’s so, you’ll be leaving here around 2 to 3 p.m., ‘cause he also goes to the Lakeside for lunch, and I’m willing to bet Margie’s going to serve him, Covid or no.
” He looked at Robby. “When are you heading to your place?”
“Tomorrow.”
Grace looked over at Robby but didn’t say anything until they got in the truck. “So when did you decide to stay till tomorrow?”
Robby reached back for his seatbelt. “Ummm . . . 10 minutes ago? Changed my mind. Told you, I’m in charge of my own schedule now.” He looked over at her. “Don’t worry. No strings.”
“Okay . . . I need to make one more stop, since you’re not in a hurry.”
Robby looked back at her. She could tell by the crease between his brows he was frowning. “Where?”
“A liquor store. At home they sell beer and wine in the grocery stores, but I remember now, that’s not the case up here.”
“Oh . . . right. It’s on our way. I could take some beer home.
” So he bought the other brand Margie mentioned, Castle Danger, Grace bought red wine and Schell’s, and they were officially finished.
Robby pulled up in front of the cafe about 4:00.
He looked over at Grace. “Just time for a nap. Quite the last twenty-four hours or so. I’ve had some doozies, but this one’s in a class by itself. ”
*******
This time it was Grace who came down first. Margie was sitting on a stool on the kitchen side of the counter, studying a supply catalog, and looked up. “Get a nap? You’re looking better than this time yesterday, for sure.”
“I did. I didn’t think I would, but it was easy. I can’t believe it’s only been a little over twenty-four hours since I landed in Duluth.” She slid onto a seat a way up from Margie.
“And this time tomorrow, you’ll be up the Trail, a stone’s throw from the border. What’s your pleasure? Schell’s?”
“Yes, I liked that. ‘Bought some today.” When Margie returned, Grace asked, “So you know Mr. Pedersen from the resort I’m going to? Mr. Olsson said he comes here for lunch.”
“Ahhh, that’s where you’re going. I thought it might be. Oh, sure. Everybody here knows everybody else. We try to stay out of each other’s business though. Having said that, how long ‘you planning to stay in the Northwoods?” Margie laughed.
Grace shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows? As long as the pandemic lasts, or till my money runs out, whichever comes first.”
“That’s as good an answer as anybody’s got,” Margie said, sitting back down.
“You give Charlie and me a call if you need to. In fact,” she said, getting up and going over to the plastic rack next to the cash register, “here’s our card.
It’s got all our information on it. You keep it.
” She handed a card to Grace who put it in her back pocket.
“You got Robby’s information?” Margie asked clearly, as he came around the corner.
“Robby! Give this girl your phone number and email and you get hers. You check on her. She’s got nobody up here but you and us. ”
“Ha. I’d be risking my life.” He stopped and looked at Grace. “Do you have a card?”
“Not on me.”
“Well, I don’t usually need them — most people know who I am — and I don’t make a habit of giving out my contact info.” He looked at Margie. “Can you give us two of yours? She can write on the back of one . . . that way, when I see it, I might remember who she is.”
“Oh, puh-lease. You’re insufferable. I’d have to be desperate to call you.”
Robby smiled. “Being in the wilderness can have strange effects on people.”
Margie shook her head and handed them cards and pens. Robby took his to his usual spot at the end of the counter. When he finished writing, he pushed it down to Grace. “Guard that with your life. Some girls would hurt you for that.” He laughed.
Grace smiled as she finished writing, then slid hers over to him. “I’ll put it in my favorite socks, when they’re dirty.” She slipped it into her back pocket without looking at it.
He put hers in his wallet. “Margie, Grace is not impressed.”
Margie smiled. “I’m assuming you need that room again tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m enjoying being in no hurry.”
“It’s a good thing, because you’re getting nowhere fast. Beer?” Robby nodded. “Then I’ve got to get in the kitchen. Meatloaf is the special tonight. ‘You guys want some? Mashed potatoes and fresh garden peas, lemon meringue pie.”
“Oh, man, I may never leave. Once I get to my place, I have to cook for myself, if I can remember how.”
“Awww,” Grace said. “There’s a song for that, isn’t there? ‘Cry Me a River’?”
“See, Margie? She’s a hard case.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it. No telling when you’ll be back in the limelight, although I’m sure there’re some females around here and in Duluth who’ll be more than happy to hear you’re sticking around.
You two take your beers over to the windows, so Grace can look at the big lake one more evening.
It’ll be a while before supper’s ready.”
*******
Grace looked at the lake and sipped her beer. Robby looked at Grace. “I noticed you looked at newspapers and were in the local history section at the library this morning. Were you looking for something? Maybe I can help. I did grow up around here.”
“I doubt you can help.”
Robby inhaled, let it out slowly. “That’s insulting. I went to school too . . . college, till music got more interesting than books. Musicians get educations too, and Anishinaabeg often know more about their surroundings than whites do. What were you looking for?”
“Okay. You’re on. Current information on how mining is threatening the Boundary Waters.”
“Oh . . . well . . . I was not expecting that.” He sat back in his chair. “And I hate to admit, especially to you, I’m not up on the current situation. Why that? Because you have a sentimental connection to the area?”
“Would that be wrong?”
“No. I’ve just got a feeling it’s more than that. Let me guess. It is more, but it’s none of my business.”
“You’re right — it is more, but you told me about yourself.
Turnabout is fair play. My family had a lot to do with the development of the Iron Range.
I feel guilty about that, although back then nobody was thinking about environmental consequences.
Now, I’d like to get involved in preventing harm to the Boundary Waters. ”
“And you think I’m going to fault you for what your ancestors did to the environment?
Or think you’re a silly white girl for trying to help?
No. The Boundary Waters needs all the help it can get.
Go for it. I’m sure the resort has internet.
You’ll have the owner’s undivided attention for at least an hour tomorrow.
Pick his brain. I’m not sure what the cell phone situation is that far up the Trail, but he’ll know.
You brought a tablet, right? You had one in the airport. ”
“Tablet and a laptop. I work for a small newspaper. I’m a journalist.”
Robby raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. On several levels.” He took a swallow of his beer. “You might be able to offer real help. How’re you going to get involved?”