Chapter Six
A scream pierced the air.
The angry woman who dressed in all black was high-knee stomping through the snow in front of her cabin. “I can’t do it! I can’t!” she shrieked. “I can’t do rodents!”
“Hey, what’s happening? Are you okay?” Lance asked.
“No!” she screamed, her cheeks bright read and her eyes full of terror. “It’s in there!” She pointed to her cabin.
“What’s in there?”
“A rat!”
Shhhit. “Okay, go to the main lodge, I’ll take care of it,” Lance assured her as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The last thing the Woodpecker Inn needed was a bad review about rats in the cabins.
He connected a call to Brock.
“Yellow,” his friend answered.
“Hey, someone said they saw a rat in their cabin.”
“We don’t have rats in the cabins.”
“Yeah, well, she’s pretty friggin’ convinced. I sent her your way. I’ll take a look around.”
“This is the last thing we need right now,” Brock muttered.
“I know. I’ll let you know what I find.” He placed his palm on the cold wood of the door. It creaked open.
“Kitchen!” the woman yelled from where she was hiding behind a sapling.
“Yep. I think Roberto is making you food. Go relax and I’ll take care of it.”
“How will I ever be able to sleep in there again?” she shrieked.
Okay, this lady had barely made the effort to string two words together all week, and now she suddenly was Chatty Kathy?
“It’s eating my Corn Nuts!”
Lance pinched the bridge of his nose and made his way into the kitchen.
The rat in question was sitting in the middle of the pantry floor and was indeed snacking on an overturned package of corn nuts, but the rat wasn’t a rat at all.
It was a little beige hamster.
Lance pursed his lips against a laugh, lest he scare the little critter off.
It didn’t seem to care about him much. Currently, the little rodent was stuffing it’s cheeks full.
Meh. He liked corn nuts too.
It was a cute little thing. He looked around the kitchen and in the recycling bin, he found an empty snack box. He knew exactly where this little thing had come from, and Brock was about to be so happy.
Quiet as a mouse, he padded into the doorway of the pantry.
The hamster looked at him with beady, black little eyes, but kept chewing.
Its tiny hands were curled up into little fists against its chest. He was going to have to show Birdie this thing.
She would freak out, but probably not like the screamer.
He had a feeling Birdie would think it was cute.
The hamster tensed as he stepped into the pantry. It was clearly pretty tame, which further fed his idea of where this thing came from.
“Hey there little guy,” he crooned as he slowly knelt closer. Don’t. Run.
The hamster took off like a shot, but he was ready. He shoved the box over it and scooped it right inside, then upended it.
Feeling proud of himself, he looked inside, and the critter leapt at his face. He squawked and shoved it back inside, then closed the flap. He could hear the little claws scratching around against the thin cardboard.
Immediately, he could hear chewing. Crap.
Panicking, he looked around. Dang, this woman had every child snack known to man.
He set the box down and, in a rush, he pulled some crackers, cereal and more corn nuts and a fruit roll up and shoved it into the barely cracked top of the box before he shoved the thin cardboard flaps closed once again.
He stood there frozen, hugging the box to his chest as he listened for chewing sounds.
And there were chewing sounds, but this time, it was the hamster eating.
He chuckled. Little critter sure was easy to distract.
He grabbed the box of cereal and made his way outside.
The woman in black was still standing behind the sapling, shivering—with fear or with cold, Lance hadn’t a guess.
“Got him!” he called, holding up the make-shift hamster cage.
“You put that giant thing in that tiny box? And what are you doing with my cereal!” she griped.
“Keeping the hamster distracted with food. Your house is cleared. I’ll pick up more…” He read the label on the cereal… “Donut O’s, when I’m in town.”
“You said hamster. That thing was huge.”
“He weighs maybe an ounce,” he called over his shoulder. “A little boy lost him here a couple of months back. He will be happy to have his little friend home. Your cabin is cleared. Enjoy your day!”
When Lance glanced back at her, she was just staring dumbly at him, but he didn’t know what else to say. Go inside and get warm, or stay out in the snow all day, but if she gave this place a one-star rat-review on Yelp, he would sign up for an account just to argue it.
Lance took the stairs up to the main lodge two at a time and pulled open the door. Warm air blasted into his face. “Dude,” he called to Brock. “Guess what I found?”
“The rat?” Brock asked, the landline phone resting between his ear and shoulder.
“No, remember that kid a while back who lost his hamster?”
Brock frowned. “His gerbil?”
“No, his hamster.” He held up the box. “I found him.”
Brock set the phone back in the cradle, and opened his mouth, then shut it again with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he said he lost his gerbil.”
“Same difference, look at this thing,” he said excitedly. That kid was going to be so happy.
He could hear chewing inside, so he opened the top carefully and peered inside. The little cream-colored hamster was even cuter with his cheeks all puffed out with food.
“Does he have something wrong with his teeth?” Brock asked.
“No, they store food in their cheek pouches. He probably has a nest somewhere in the cabin.”
Brock’s frown still existed and it annoyed Lance. “Just email that kid’s mom okay. He pulled his phone out and snapped a picture and sent it to Brock. “Show them the picture and ask for a good address. If they live close enough, I’ll drive it out. If not, we’ll ship it.”
“Ship a hamster?”
Lance shrugged and busied himself with a photoshoot of the little critter. He was pretty dang cute with his little hands and his little beady eyes and his little soft-looking ears. Birdie was going to freak out.
Brock sighed and poked around on his phone. “Sent, but I’m really pretty sure they said it was a gerbil and I’m also pretty sure I saw said gerbil running free and wild all over the woods and around the trashcans.
“I’m telling you, man, this thing is tame. I swear I remember them asking us to look for a hamster.”
“How do you know so much about hamsters and cheek pouches and nests?” he asked.
“I had one when I was a kid. I asked for a dog, but my mom wanted something easier to take care of. Its name was Billy, and it lived for ten years.”
“You had a ten-year-old hamster?” Brock asked skeptically.
“No, I think my mom just kept replacing them when they got old and died. She still won’t admit to it though.” He tried to pet the little brown critter, but it tried to bite him. He flinched back and then closed the lid to it. “I’m going to go show it to Birdie.”
“Is that the lady you’ve been palling around with?” Brock asked nonchalantly.
“Maybe.”
“You look good together. Have you told her about the wedding tomorrow?”
“A little,” he muttered setting the makeshift hamster cage on the check-in counter. He tapped the bell thoughtfully. “Can I be honest?”
“I prefer it,” Brock murmured, scribbling onto the old school registration paperwork Gran insisted Brock use.
“I haven’t thought about Beth or the wedding hardly at all since I started hanging out with Birdie. She’s fun and easy to be around.”
“And she’s a good distraction.”
“I guess. Feels a little bigger though.”
Brock jerked his attention up from what he was writing. His blue eyes narrowed. “Are you still going to the wedding tomorrow?”
“Hell no. I was never going.”
“Your sister said you had RSVP’d.”
“Nope. That’s a rumor. Why would I go?”
“Seems like Beth is wanting you to.”
“Beth will get over it. She should probably focus on her new husband.” He straightened up and cradled the snack box. “I’m headed out.”
“Did you say her name was Birdie?” Brock asked. “I think she’s signed up for the ATV tour. The shuttle picked them up fifteen minutes ago.”
Lance frowned and made his way to the excursion sheet. Sure enough, her name was scribbled fourth from the top. Birdie Grenadine. Huh.
“I think she’s coming to the game tonight.”
“She won’t be back until after it starts,” Brock said. “Maybe text her and ask her to meet us there?”
Confused, he nodded. She hadn’t mentioned the excursion. They’d talked about her going to his game, and he’d told her the time to meet, and she hadn’t even batted an eyelash. Maybe she skipped the excursion.
But when he made his way to her cabin and knocked, no one answered the door. He knocked again. Still nothing.
The little hamster was scratching at the insides of the box.
“I know little buddy. Your owner is going to tell us what to do with you soon. He could hear chewing on the box, and he pried the top open by centimeters. Good gah, the hamster had emptied its cheek pouches, ate all of that, and every snack he’d put in there.
He put a handful of cereal in there and watched in awe as the critter started demolishing the food. He liked it. Sometimes all he wanted to do in stressful situations was eat too.
He stood and looked around for inspiration.
Okay. If he left the little box in his cabin, he had a feeling the little thing would run through the snacks and chew its way out.
Maybe he should put it in a glass jar? No, it would suffocate.
He didn’t have any Tupperware containers.
Even the thought of poking holes in the top made him think the hamster would start chewing its way out as soon as the snackies dried up.
It seemed content as long as he kept feeding it.
So okay, the little hamster was going to come on an adventure with him. He would just need to make a little detour before the game to the store to pick up more hamster snacks.
He made his way to his cabin and set the box on the kitchen counter, and then texted pictures of the little thing to Birdie.
I found this little guy in one of the cabins.
A little boy lost him a couple of months ago.
Until he claims him, I’m naming him Raisin.
Have fun on the ATV ride!! Want to meet at the game?
If you’re still up for it? I will buy you nachos as a bribe.
They make them with liquid cheese and shredded cheddar there.
I kind of miss you, wild thing. Me and Raisin will see you at the game.
P.S. I miss your boobs. Send. He typed out the address and then sent that as well.
Then he braved a bite from the fuzzy little critter and pulled it out of the box, held it up next to his face and took a selfie of him and Raisin, and then sent it to Birdie.
It didn’t even bite him. Not even once. Raisin just wiggled it’s cute little nose and twitched its whiskers.
He let the hamster run across his hands over and over, moving one hand in front of the other, and then the other hand, and then the free hand and so on. He was so fast and so cute. The little ears were killing him.
A selfish part of him kind of hoped the little boy didn’t want Raisin anymore. Maybe the mom had bought him a replacement hamster, like Lance’s mom used to do.
But then Raisin got mad and bit his finger, and his teeth were really sharp, and Lance had to put him back in the cardboard box and give him more food. That settled him down.
“Okay, spirit animal,” he grumbled. “I get grumpy when I’m hungry too.”
He dressed quickly and grabbed his soccer bag, and he and Raisin were out the door. He cast a glance at Birdie’s cabin, but the lights were off. It was weird that she hadn’t told him. She wasn’t freaking out after they’d slept together, right?
Fuck, what if she was?
He checked his phone, but she hadn’t texted him back yet.
Oh no. What if they had gone too far too fast and Birdie had started second guessing in the couple of hours they were apart?
Maybe he should’ve kept them slowed down.
No. Lance shook his head hard, trying to jar that thought out of his head. He was just overthinking it. Birdie was zooming around a snowy mountain right now on an ATV, probably having the time of her life.
He would see her at the game.
He was sure of it.