Friday, June 14, 1968
Dear Mamó,
Well, I’m finally here! I went through an entire thermos of coffee on the drive up but I made it safe and sound around 9 o’clock last night. I had to pee so bad! I didn’t want to risk breaking my neck walking to the outhouse in the gloaming, so I just squatted in the front yard. ☺
The camp looks the same as I remembered, although everything seems smaller. Is that just because I’m bigger? It smelled pretty musty so I opened up all the windows last night and hung the blankets over the deck to air them out this morning. ≋
Oh, get this! I drove up on Route 1 out of Boston, then got on Route 4 near Portsmouth. I thought it would take me into downtown Dover, but it turns out there’s a U.S. Route 4 and a N.H. State Route 4 and they aren’t connected! By the time I figured out my mistake, it was quicker to keep going and then turn in some town called Northwood and take Route 9 so I could backtrack to Route 16, which goes all the way to Ossipee, as I’m sure you know. Then just before the lake, it’s a quick right onto Route 25 to the camp. That’s 1, 4, 9, 16, 25. Too bad there’s no Route 36! I know, I’m such a square. □
I’ll head into town this afternoon to mail this letter and pick up some groceries, then maybe I’ll go swimming. It’s beautiful here, and I’m so glad you offered to let me stay here for the summer.
Love,
Cassie ♡
Cassie addressed the envelope to her grandmother, then folded the letter and slid it inside. Her stomach growled, prompting her to drive into town right away to grab something for lunch. She stepped outside and hopped into her VW Beetle, tucking the letter into the glovebox and flipping down the sun visor so the ignition key slid into her hand. The engine sputtered to life behind her and she executed a three-point turn and bumped down the long unpaved access road, then turned right onto Route 25 towards town. With the windows down, her red hair whipped around in the air until she adjusted her headband. “It’s only about two miles to town,” she thought to herself. “Maybe I’ll walk next time, when I’m not going to be carrying so much stuff.” She laughed and muttered aloud “And I’ll save myself a nickel in gas money.”
Arriving at the general store, she laid in some provisions: eggs, milk, cheddar cheese, crackers, bread, peanut butter, grape jelly, carrots, apples… everything a growing girl could need.
“Anythin’ else, miss?” the rawboned proprietor asked with what might pass for a smile. “Want some tonic?”
Baffled, Cassie gave the old coot a confused look. She’d heard of nerve tonic and hair tonic…
“You know, Doctah Peppah, Moxie, Frescer…” he explained.
“Oh!” Cassie laughed. “Yes, sure. I’ll take two bottles of grapefruit Squirt if you have it. Oh, and a block of ice.”
“Comin’ right up!” the old coot crowed, rubbing his gnarled hands together with glee.
As she paid for her groceries, Cassie asked for directions to the post office.
“Jes’ drive around the loop ovah that way, can’t miss it,” he indicated with a jerk of his head. “Centah Rossipee’s none too lahge.” Looking closely at Cassie’s face and hair, he added “Visitin’ fuh the summah?”
“Yes, in my grandma’s cabin by the lake.”
A gleam shone in his eye. “Yer grammaw wouldn’t happen to be Julia Campbell, now would she?”
“Yes! You know her?”
“I should say so,” he cackled. “I should say so.”
She extended her hand. “My name’s Cassie, by the way, Mister…”
Shaking her hand with his grizzled paw, the old coot replied “Mistah Pratt, but you can call me Chahlie.”
“Charlie?” Cassie tested out the name with an r sound in the middle.
That’s right, Chahlie,” he confirmed with a wink. “You have a good day, Miss Cassie, and tell yuh grammaw hello from Chahlie Pratt.”
“I’ll do that,” Cassie promised. “Bye now!”
Charlie Pratt watched her go and shook his head in amused disbelief.
Cassie leaned through the passenger window of her car, bending at the waist, and placed her groceries in the footwell of the passenger seat, then retrieved the envelope from the glovebox. She pulled a pencil stub from the pocket of her Levi’s dungaree cutoffs and flattened out the letter on the hood.
P.S. It seems that you have an admirer in town. Charlie Pratt says hello. Old boyfriend?
“All right, that ought to do it for now,” she said to herself as she replaced the letter inside the envelope and licked the glue, sealing it shut. She tossed the letter on the passenger seat, then got in and started the engine. Backing out onto the street, she turned south and almost immediately turned right and followed the road as it looped around to the north. Spotting the post office, she parked and went inside.
Cassie walked to the counter and pushed six dollars into the tray beneath the window cage. “I’d like a roll of first-class stamps, please.”
The clerk, a middle-aged woman, was somewhat surprised by this lavish outlay of cash. “A whole roll of a hundred, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” Cassie smiled. “I promised my grandmother I would write her every day this summer.”
“Isn’t that something,” the clerk tittered. “Most young people these days don’t want anything to do with us old fogeys.”
“She may be old, but I can guarantee you that nobody ever called her a fogey,” Cassie laughed as she scooped the roll of stamps out of the tray. “Thank you.” Tearing a stamp off the end of the roll, she licked it and stuck it on the envelope, then pushed it through the slot in the wall marked Out Of Town. “Bye now!” she called as she left.
Returning to the camp, Cassie’s first order of business was to unwrap the heavy paper protecting the block of ice and slide the block into the bottom of the icebox. Placing the milk, cheese, and sodas in the icebox, she arrayed everything else on the zinc countertop and crossed the room to look out at the lake.
“It really is beautiful,” she murmured.
“I’ll say it is!” a man’s voice rang out behind her.
“Aaah!” Cassie yelled, startled. Whipping around, she saw the silhouette of a young man leaning against the doorway. “Jiminy Crickets! Who the hell are you?”
“Soary, soary!” he laughed, holding his hands up in an attempt to calm her down. “I come in peace. I’m Kevin; the Campbells pay me to keep an eye on things when no one’s here: shovel the roof, patch the screens, that sort of thing.”
“Huh,” Cassie grunted, still miffed about his sneaking up on her. “Well, I’m here now, Kevin.”
“I can see that,” he replied smoothly. “Your grandmother wrote and told me to expect you tonight or tomorrow. I came over to air things out before you arrived,” he added sheepishly. “Soary aboot that.”
“What’s that accent?” Cassie asked, tilting her head. “Yaw not from around heah, rah you?” she quipped in her best imitation of Chahlie Pratt.
“No, I’m from Canada. North Bay, Ontario, to be precise.”
“I see,” Cassie laughed, deciding that she was done being mad at him. “Well, soary to surprise you. I wrapped everything up a day early and decided not to stick around Boston another night.”
“Boston, eh? What’s in Boston? Besides a lousy hockey club, I mean.”
“School. I just finished my freshman year at MIT.”
Kevin’s eyes flew open in surprise but he gamely attempted to crack another joke. “MIT, eh?” he needled. “What’s the matter, couldn’t get into Harvard?”
“Maybe if Tom Lehrer were still teaching at Harvard I would have gone there, but I had to settle for MIT instead,” Cassie deadpanned.
“Seriously, though, that’s impressive. Brains and beauty… and impeccable taste in music,” Kevin grinned.
Cassie gave Kevin the once-over. He stood roughly six feet tall. Beneath a mop of curly brown hair, he had a handsome face with a strong jawline covered in stubble. He wore a pale blue Mickey Mouse ringer t-shirt, faded Levi’s, and black Converse All Stars. His arms were muscular and his hands looked strong. Cassie was wondering what the seat of his Levi’s looked like when Kevin cleared his throat.
Snapping out of her reverie, Cassie smiled. “Yes, brains and beauty, in that order. And don’t you forget it, pal.”
“Got it!” Kevin laughed. After a somewhat awkward silence, he said “Say, I brought over a fresh propane tank for the stove. I’ll hook it up for you.”
“Thank you. I was just about to make some lunch if you want to join me,” Cassie offered. “Nothing fancy.”
Eyeing the groceries on the counter, Kevin said “Let me guess, PB and J?”
“The lunch of champions,” Cassie teased. “Oh, and there’s two bottles of warm Squirt in the icebox. They’ve been in there for approximately three minutes.”
“Warm Squirt? That’s my favorite.”
“Oh, really?”
Kevin just smiled and went to get the propane tank from his pickup truck while Cassie set about finding a knife and two plates. She laid out four slices of bread and opened the jar of peanut butter, slathering it on two slices of bread. The lid of the jelly jar was sealed tight, and she was wrestling with it when Kevin returned.
“All right, the propane’s hooked up now,” he announced before noticing Cassie’s struggle. “Having trouble opening that jar?”
“No—trouble—” Cassie grunted.
“Here, hand it over,” Kevin insisted.
“I can—do it—myself—” Cassie puffed.
“Sure you can,” Kevin grinned, folding his brawny arms and leaning against the doorframe to watch the show. “Let me know when you make some proe-gress.”
Cassie glared at him, then thumped the jar on the counter. “All right then, show me how to light the stove.”
Puzzled, Kevin walked over to the stove and pointed to a valve on the wall. “This valve controls the flow.”
Cassie opened a box of matches and said “Turn it on.”
“Look, we don’t need to have fried peanut butter sandwiches. Just let me open the jar.”
Cassie struck a match and repeated in a menacing voice “Turn. It. On.”
Kevin shrugged and turned the valve. Cassie turned a knob on the front of the stove and held the match near the burner until a circle of blue flame jumped up. Shaking out the match, she tossed it in the sink and picked up the jelly jar. Holding it by the bottom, she pointed the jar horizontally over the burner and slowly rotated it.
“What are you doing?”
“Heating the lid.”
“What for?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
Kevin threw his hands in the air and waited. After a minute or so, Cassie removed the jar from the flame and turned off the gas. Grasping the lid with a pot holder, she removed it with one twist.
“Et voilà!” Kevin laughed. “What’s the secret?”
Cassie smiled. “Heating the metal lid caused it to expand, loosening its grip on the threads of the glass jar.”
Kevin thought for a moment and scratched his head. “But wouldn’t the inside of the lid expand inwards, making the seal tighter?”
“You would think so, but metal expands faster than glass, so the lid expands more than the jar, loosening the fit.”
“Huh. I guess you have to see it to believe it… and I just saw it.”
Cassie raised her eyebrows playfully to indicate I’m just full of mystery, then finished making the sandwiches while Kevin shook his head and removed the bottles of soda from the icebox.
“Ooh, would you feel that,” he said as he pressed one of the bottles against Cassie’s cheek. “This was in the icebox for a whopping ten minutes.” Cassie felt a shiver run through her as his fingertips accidentally grazed her skin.
“So refreshing,” she pretended to swoon, then began rooting around in the kitchen drawers. “I hope we can find a bottle opener in this joint.”
“It’s mounted on the wall near the sink.”
“So it is! Here, let me do the honors.” Cassie took both bottles, popped the tops off, then handed one back to Kevin. “Cheers!”
“To your health!” Kevin toasted as they clinked their bottles together. Taking a swig, each of them grimaced.
“Let me guess; warm Squirt is not actually your favorite,” Cassie laughed.
“You know, I figured don’t knock it ‘til you try it, but maybe we should let these chill for a while longer.”
“I’m with you.” Cassie took Kevin’s bottle and put them back in the icebox.
“Let’s go out on the deck,” Kevin suggested.
They munched their sandwiches in silence, Cassie looking out at the water, Kevin stealing glances at Cassie.
“I just remembered,” Cassie said after they had finished eating. “My grandmother told me that I shouldn’t drink the water from the sink because it pumps straight from the lake.”
“Yes, that’s right. You’d want to boil it to be safe, but then you’d be wasting a lot of your time, not to mention your propane. I can bring you some empty milk bottles; you can get them filled with water at the store in town.”
“Thank you, that would be great.”
“I should get going, but I’ll help you clean up first.”
“Two plates and a knife?” Cassie laughed. “I think I can handle it.”
“All right, but let’s make sure the pump is working before I go.”
“I’ll keep your Squirt on ice until you bring me those milk bottles.”
“It’s a deal.”
☮☮☮
Friday, June 21, 1968
Dear Mamó,
The first week is in the books! Speaking of books, I’ve been reading The Feynman Lectures on Physics. Richard Feynman may well be a sexist pig, but his speech “What is Science?” is fascinating. Maybe I’ll send it to you; I have a photostat of the transcript somewhere in the trunk of my car.
Kevin has been dropping by nearly every day to “fix something”. I think he’s just desperate to have someone to talk to. One thing I wish he could fix is that nasty outhouse. I’ve been peeing behind it because I don’t want to go inside unless I absolutely have to. I’m always worried that some creepy spider is going to scuttle over and bite me on the butt. Fortunately, I’m the type of gal who shits once every three days, so I can keep my visits to the bare minimum. ☾
Well, enough potty talk. It’s late afternoon and I’d better get to the post office before it closes. Bye for now!
Love,
Cassie ♡
Cassie had established something of a routine during her first week, dropping in on Charlie to refill her milk bottles with water and stock up on soda and other victuals, then visiting the post office and sliding that day’s letter in the outgoing mail.
“Remember, sweetheart, we close at noon tomorrow,” the clerk reminded her with a smile.
“Thanks for the reminder,” Cassie laughed. “Last week, I ended up sending Mamó three letters on Monday!”
Returning home, Cassie drove up the long, rutted driveway. “Ooh, I really have to pee,” she muttered to herself as she jounced around. Kevin’s truck was in the yard, and she pulled up beside it and cut the engine. As she headed towards the outhouse, Kevin emerged from behind it.
“Hey, Cassie,” he called. “I’ve been doing some weeding around here.”
“Oh, that’s… good,” Cassie stammered.
“Funny thing, the ferns back here are all black and withered, like they’re being poisoned.”
“Huh!” Cassie gulped. “Isn’t that strange.”
“Maybe it’s because they’re growing too close to the outhouse, I dunno,” Kevin offered.
“Could be,” Cassie agreed, her embarrassment causing the pressure in her bladder to grow at what felt like an exponential rate. “Uh, I’m going to get changed and go for a quick dip, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, go right ahead,” Kevin grinned. “It’s your place.”
Cassie smiled weakly and walked as casually as possible to the cabin. She briefly considered peeing in an empty soda bottle but was afraid she’d make a mess. No, she had enough time to get changed and jump in the lake… probably.
Kevin heard the flip-flop sound of thong sandals and caught a glimpse of Cassie’s posterior as she descended the stairs from the back deck and walked gingerly down to the waterline, then he quickly ducked his head. The image of her flaming red hair, pale skin, and emerald green bikini bottom was burned into his retinas as he tried to focus on uprooting the dying ferns.
Cassie kicked off her sandals and waded into the cold water until she was waist deep. Casually splashing the surface of the lake with her left hand, just in case anyone was watching, she reached down with her right hand and pulled the fabric of her bikini bottom to the side, baring herself under the surface. Almost immediately, she groaned and felt the sweet relief as a bloom of warmth surrounded her. For nearly thirty seconds, she stood in the water and peed… and peed… and peed.
She shuddered and removed her hand so that her bikini snapped back into position. Without stopping to think about what she was doing, Cassie sank down into the lake, allowing the warm water to caress her skin. The tips of her hair floated on the surface, splayed out around her as she enjoyed the intoxicating feeling of bathing in her own urine. She closed her eyes and leaned back, allowing the summer sun to warm her face for a moment, then made a decision and plunged her head below the surface.
Cassie stayed underwater for as long as possible, then sprang up with a splash and drew a lungful of air. Rubbing the water from her eyes, she turned and saw a blue towel folded and lying on a large rock on the shore. She didn’t think it had been there before, and she had been in such a rush that she had forgotten to grab a towel for herself. Had Kevin brought it to her? How did he know she didn’t have one? Had he been watching her? She looked around for him but couldn’t see him anywhere. There was a slight breeze and her nipples were hardening, so she waded in and wrapped herself in the towel. Not wanting to get her sandals all sandy, she picked them up, then stood for a moment in the sun before climbing the hill barefoot…
