Chapter 20: Grounds
"The lands seem quite extensive," Shana said to Mr. Anderson as they headed for the garage that housed the ATVs.
"It ain't actually all that big, but the way the trails is laid out makes the place seem a lot bigger. There's nearly five miles of trail out there."
"Well, if I'm here, I probably won't use them much except for a morning run, maybe, so as the new owner of the place, I'll expect you to allow the local kids to continue using the trails for their activities. As long as they aren't destroying the place, tearing up the ground, vandalizing the trees and throwing trash around. If you see any of that happening you'll throw the interloper out."
"Most of these kids're pretty decent. Plus, they know they ain't supposed to be here and they take care not to leave any sign they were here. The way that there Mr. Kennedy scared that little girl went chasin' her dog scared the kids around here. If you don't mind, I'll just keep things as they are."
The ATVs roared out of the shed and out onto the dirt trail. And Mr. Anderson seemed to be right, the kids who were trespassing seemed to want to leave little sign that they'd been there; for Shana and Snake Eyes, used to seeing garbage everywhere on the ground in New York, the ground looked oddly bare—and it was nice.
Anderson stopped his ATV, and held up a hand; the others stopped too. "Looks like them kids mighta come out a bit early today, seein' as how it's Saturday an' all."
Shana turned off her ATV. "Let's go have a peek, hmm?"
The ground sloped up to a low rise, and they made their way silently through the brush to the top, as only special forces trained soldiers could, then flattened themselves along the top and peeked over.
They needn't have bothered sneaking. There was a little valley on the other side of the rise, and about four kids on BMX stunt bikes, riding up one side of the valley, doing airborne stunts and flips, and landing on the downward slope, pedaling up the slope on the other side, and doing it all again. Shana raised her eyebrows; a couple of the kids looked pretty good, to her, performing the kinds of stunts that she watched with Conrad on the base's TVs during the extreme games that he liked—skateboarders, bikers, extreme skiers, and the like. She winced as one kid lost his grip on his bike handlebars and went flying over it, hitting the ground with a dull thud; she wondered for a moment if he'd broken something but he simply got up to the accompaniment of shouts and good natured ribbing from his friends, got back on the bike, and pedaled back up the side to try the stunt again. This time he made it and his buddies cheered him.
"Yeah, I have no problem with these kids out here doing this," Shana said thoughtfully as Charlie and Mr. Anderson joined her and Snake Eyes watching the kids. "As long as they aren't doing that." She pointed, and they all looked in the direction her finger was pointing.
There was a boy there, watching the others. He was eating something, some sort of candy that was individually wrapped, and he was carelessly tossing the wrappers right and left. There wasn't much of a breeze on this sticky Atlanta day, but what little breeze there was had started finding those wrappers and begin scattering them around.
Snake Eyes slipped from Shana's side before she could say anything, and she, having a good idea where he was going and what he was going to do, motioned to the others for silence and to wait. Sure enough, a few minutes later she saw him slipping between trees and through brush and fallen leaf litter, making no more noise than a squirrel, until he was on the other side of the tree against which the boy was sitting.
With the help of a few well-placed branches, Snake Eyes shimmied up the tree, a skill honed by years of special forces training and muscles developed by a lifetime of martial arts practice. The yell the boy gave when a black-clad shadow dropped out of the tree in front of him as silently as a ghost made Shana snicker behind her hand. Snake Eyes wasn't wearing his stealth suit, or his butterfly swords, or his balaclava, but his scarred face and dark frown looked absolutely forbidding, and only someone who knew him would be able to tell he was putting in a huge effort not to laugh.
The boy stood slowly, staring, apparently frightened, and started to back away. Snake Eyes thought idly that someone really should be teaching these kids about basic self-defense; if the kid stayed with his back to the tree he'd be in a better position to defend himself.
But that wasn't what he'd done this for. He pointed to the ground in front of him, where the boy had dropped the rest of his bag of candy in his surprise at Snake eyes' sudden appearance.
"What?" The boy asked, his voice shaking a little. Snake eyes just kept pointing to the dropped candy.
"Dude, I think he wants you to pick up your trash," said another kid, standing a short distance away next to a BMX bike.
"Is that it?" The first boy said, and in answer Snake Eyes gave the second boy a warrior's acknowledgement, head bent over clasped fists. To his surprise the boy answered in kind, dropping his bike, facing him fully, then bowed, a sign of respect, as the first boy bent to start picking up the dropped candy and the scattered empty wrappers. As the other two kids bent to help, Snake Eyes melted away into the underbrush, exiting unnoticed; when the boys straightened up, the clearing was empty except for them.
Snake Eyes rejoined Shana, Charlie, and Mr. Anderson, grinning. "You know, I think you enjoyed that a little too much," Shana teased as they all backtracked to where they'd left the ATVs. "Maybe after we muster out someday we open a school?"
Snake Eyes thought about it. One of the things he liked about Joe base was training recruits; how different could training a bunch of inner city kids be? Maybe, he finally signed as they continued on their tour of the four acres. Live here, open a school, teach inner-city kids? The idea had merits.
Three of the four acres were wooded/forested, with about five miles of trail running through it. In the northeast corner of the property, however, there was a huge pond, almost a small lake. Shana exclaimed in delight as she parked her ATV and went to the edge. "How deep is it?" she looked down, saw the small silvery shapes darting just under the surface. "Oh, hey! Fish!"
"Them banker types fancied a spot of fishin' while they was here, so they stocked the pond with some game fish. Don't rightly know what kind, but there is fish here..." and as if on cue, out towards the middle of the pond something silver flashed, spreading ripples across the quiet surface. "It's a natural lake, and there was some talk about bringin' jet skis or something like that, but it never happened. There's a couple of kayaks in the boathouse on the other side, and a small motorboat, but nothing real fancy or complicated. Now, there's some people come fish out here sometimes, which I kinda let go on because them bankers didn't come out here that often and most the time they caught and released—very few'a them kept what they caught and ate it…so I let a little fishin' happen on the sly cause the population needs to thin a little now an' then."
"Sounds like a good idea," Shana said. "In fact, I don't see anything that you're doing right now that I want to change. If you're up to the idea, we'll continue the status quo. What are you getting paid, and how are you getting it?"
"Them bankers set up a repeatin' deposit each month. I'll show you some statements when I come back. They didn't pay me much, but I didn't ask for much either; I got my own landscapin' business, and this is just a sideline for me. And my daughter –she's near sixteen and been ridin' since she was six—loves comin' up to feed the horses and clean out the stalls. She's got one of her own, but the mare's in a boardin' stable a couple miles away and she don't get to see her often."
"Tell you what. From what I saw, that stable has plenty of room—if this property's closer, I don't see why your daughter couldn't keep her horse here. Storm and Sunshine have to be lonely, they might welcome some company. Let's get back to the stable; I'll take a look."
"That's mighty gen'rous of you, ma'am…"
"It's practical," Shana insisted, waving off his words. "Both Snake Eyes and I are in the military; we won't be here for more than a few weeks out of the year. If the stable is empty except for the two horses, there's no reason why you can't bring yours if there's room; you take care of the property, right?"
"An' when them bankers call and says they're expectin' guests my wife and daughter come and give the place a bit of cleanin' so's the place is spruced up."
They were reaching the place where the trail doubled back to the yard when Shana held up a hand. Clearly, in the still morning air they heard someone whistling an Irish reel, broken by an occasional "No, the other foot…yes, there you go…" and the whistling would resume.
Shana turned off the ATV and parked it, and followed the path until it opened up by the paddock. And there, in front of the barn, Shana's father was clapping his hands in time to the whistled tune of 'Whiskey In The Jar' and Cam was dancing.
They hadn't seen Cam dancing since before they'd left on the Congo mission. Her face was flushed, she was breathing hard, but she was also smiling as her feet moved in time with the tune.
"I never thought of that," Shana breathed. "I never thought…Irish dancing doesn't require the use of arms, not like her ballet does. I never thought she'd be just as happy doing jigs and reels as she would doing her ballet!"
And just then Cam caught sight of them and stopped, face flushed, sweaty but happy. "So how did it go?" she called as she waved.
Shan shook herself out of her musing. "Great!" she answered back. "Let's get the ATVs back in the shed and I'll tell you all about it." She turned away, headed for the ATVs, and only Snake Eyes saw the tears in her eyes at seeing her friend happy.
But she was in full control of herself by the time they joined her father and Cam. "Let's walk. I want to take a look at the barn; Mr. Anderson's daughter has a horse of her own, but she's in a boarding stable some distance away, and since he's taking care of the land and grounds I don't see why he can't bring his daughter's horse here instead of the boarding stable."
"That's a wonderful idea! Storm and Sunshine have to be lonely here, with just the two of them all the time—having company for them would be great!"
There were six stalls in the barn; one was being used as storage for tack, but three stalls were empty. Shana turned to Mr. Anderson. "It's settled then. Bring your daughter's horse here; she's welcome to stay. In fact, let's go inside where we can talk; I have a proposition for you."
She told them about the property as she sketched out a map of the grounds for Cam and her father's benefit, describing Snake Eyes' little adventure with the children in excruciating detail for the benefit of her father and Cam, who both laughed at the image of the boy terrified of Snake Eyes. Cam's laughter was infectious, and soon they were all laughing.
Mr. Anderson wiped his eyes. "Them kids is never gonna to forget that. I guarantee I ain't never going to find no speck of garbage out there from here on out."
"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Snake Eyes and I are in the military, so we're not around much. And we also have a home—a cabin in the California mountains, so the only time we're going to be here is when we're visiting family. But there's a lot of history here, and the grounds are beautiful, and there's a lot to offer. So I want to make a proposition for you." She leaned an elbow on the table, tapping a spot on the map of the property she'd drawn on the napkin. "The pond in the northwest corner—I saw a little cabin there by the boathouse. Do you know what that was?"
"That used t'be the caretaker's cabin. Little tiny place—got two rooms, kitchen, bath, attic space."
Shana smiled. "Good. I'm going to have that cabin fixed up for our use while we're here—Snake Eyes and myself. Now, I looked at the layout of the house here and I noticed there is a small suite here on the lower floor; sitting room, two bedrooms, private kitchen and bath—it occurred to me that perhaps you, your wife, and daughter would like to move in here." He started to say something, but she held up a hand. "Wait. Let me explain. I don't mean to stay here at the house, but it has too much history and beauty and too much to offer to keep private. I propose to have it listed as a historic place on the state register—"
"It is already," Anderson said.
"—good, then I don't have to do that. Now. I want to open it as a bed and breakfast. I will still own the place, but you and your wife are welcome to manage it as you see fit; rent rooms to whoever you like, your daughter can have a job as the stable manager, buy a couple more horses and open a summer riding camp for the local kids, I'll leave that up to you. People can fish in the pond, kids can ride their bikes on the trails—it'll be semi-public, although I recommend you post some kind of schedule where horses and dirt bikes have the trails on alternate days, just so no one crashes into a horse and hurts it or themselves. The cabin at the lake is ours, that will be off limits, and I will be upset if it is used or disturbed in any way. That, by the way, includes you—I don't want your wife coming and cleaning the place and airing it out, okay? I can absolutely do my own cleaning—Dad didn't raise bums." Her words were sharp, but her eyes twinkled merrily so Anderson knew she was joking. "Hire a cook and housekeeper if you like, a stablehand to help your daughter. I'm going to open an account for you at the local bank with $50k as startup capital, hire and buy what you need. When you start getting guests in I'd like a twenty percent share of the profits, and the rest you can use as you see fit."
Anderson looked like he'd been pole-axed. "That's….mighty generous of you, Miz O'Hara," he got out finally. "I don't know what to say."
"Yes would be a good place to start," Shana said with a chuckle.
"Well…yes, but…twenty percent?"
"I may change that to ten percent later once the initial $50 grand startup capital is paid back, Mr. Anderson, but yes, twenty percent for now. I'll need that twenty percent profit to keep up with the property taxes on it. You'll have your hands full dealing with guests as it is, so let me worry about the taxes." She saw his face. "What's wrong?"
"Uh…I was sort of expecting a fifty-fifty split…don't…don't you want that for yourself?"
Shana shook her head. "Mr. Anderson, I'm a Master Sergeant with a classified military project. So is Snake Eyes. I really don't need the money. I'm not greedy. The little lake cabin is just what I need while I'm here visiting family, and besides, Snake Eyes and I have a cabin in California, in the Sierra Nevadas, and I'll admit I've become very partial to low humidity and mountain snow." She added as an afterthought, "And a house that isn't haunted."
"You met the ghost?" Mr. Anderson leaned forward eagerly.
"You know about…of course you do, you're the caretaker." Shana smacked her forehead.
Anderson grinned. "Yep, I know about the ghost. Found out when I came in the barn one morning and Storm was having his tail brushed with no one holding the brush that I could see."
"So it's a friendly ghost?"
"She ain't never harmed nothin' 'round here 'cept maybe a coupla broken glasses or something to get your attention. That there Kennedy said he didn't believe in ghosts an' it was nonsense, but I had a ghost-huntin' friend a mine come in an' he said the place was definitely haunted. Had a little recorder thing and it had the voice of a little girl on it who said her name was Sarah. My daughter got interested, looked up stuff at the local library, said there was a little homeless girl named Sarah Campbell round about ten, maybe twelve years ago went missin', never found, case's still unsolved, she thinks it's this Sarah what's hauntin' the place since the stories started 'bout the same time's this girl disappeared. Sarah really hates Mr. Kennedy—stuff in his room went flying around like a tornado was in it, there was broken glass in his bed an' he even had to go to the hospital one day cause there was broken glass in his shoes one mornin', stuff like that. Got to where even though he said it was nonsense and he didn't believe in ghosts, he wouldn't stay here overnight no more startin 'bout eight years ago. He'd get a hotel room in the city on his own nickel 'stead of stayin' here."
"After what Kennedy did to us…do you think maybe Kennedy had something to do with her disappearance? Could he have killed her?" Cam stared at Shana.
"I guess anything's possible. I don't see there's any way we'll ever know for certain, but at least we know it's not an evil ghost unless you're Damien Kennedy."