Page 6 of Trusting the Grumpy Mountain Man
When we reach the clearing, the teenagers are frantically reinforcing their structures. Mia and Tyler have created a serviceable lean-to, now covered with additional pine boughs. The brothers, Caleb and Jesse, have a small but solid shelter nearly hidden in the undergrowth.
Darius works alone on a much simpler structure, lashing branches together with strips of bark. Kevin stands uselessly nearby, looking miserable.
"Time check," Reeves calls, his voice carrying over the wind.
"Ten minutes," Tyler responds, checking his watch.
"Not enough," Mia mutters, struggling to secure a branch.
I move to help her, but Reeves puts a hand on my arm, stopping me. "They need to do this themselves."
"They're going to get soaked," I protest, jerking away from his touch. "This is neglect."
"This is learning." His eyes hold mine, challenging. "Sometimes the most important lessons come from failure."
"Not if failure means pneumonia." I step around him and approach Mia's shelter. "Let me help secure that branch."
Mia looks at Reeves, clearly seeking permission. He gives a slight nod, and she hands me one end of a length of cord.
"Hold this tight while I tie it," she instructs, and I comply, surprised by her competence.
Reeves moves to Darius, offering quiet advice but no physical assistance. I watch from the corner of my eye as he points out weaknesses in the structure, guiding without doing the work. Despite myself, I'm impressed by his teaching approach.
The first heavy drops begin to fall as the shelters are completed. Reeves inspects each one quickly, suggesting last-minute adjustments.
"Admin cabin for tonight," he tells Kevin, who looks pathetically relieved. "You'll bunk on the couch."
"What about Ms. Chaffeur?" Tyler asks, eyeing me with teenage curiosity.
"She'll take the spare bunk in the staff cabin," Reeves answers before I can speak.
"I plan to return to town," I correct him, though the rapidly deteriorating weather makes this seem increasingly unwise.
"Not in that car on these mountain roads." He points to the dark sky. "Storm's going to get worse before it gets better."
As if to punctuate his statement, lightning flashes, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder that seems to shake the ground. The rain intensifies, soaking through my inadequate clothing in seconds.
"Inside," Reeves orders the teens. "Final assessment in the morning."
They scramble into their shelters, excitement and apprehension visible on their faces. This is clearly a test they're determined to pass.
Reeves turns to me, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. "You coming to the cabin, or do you want to evaluate from out here in the storm?"
The sarcasm isn't lost on me. "Fine. But I need to call my supervisor."
"No cell service during storms." He starts walking toward the admin cabin. "Landline works sometimes, if the lines don't go down."
I follow him, my shoes already sodden and my feet growing numb. The sensible choice would be returning to town, but even I can recognize when conditions make that impossible. I'm stuck here, in this primitive camp with this infuriating man and six troubled teenagers.
Perfect conditions for an objective evaluation.
By the time we reach the cabin, I'm shivering uncontrollably. Reeves pushes open the door and gestures for me to enter first. The interior feels blissfully warm after the freezing rain.
"Change into dry clothes," he orders, pointing to the bedroom. "I'll check on Kevin and start a fire."
"I don't have other clothes," I remind him through chattering teeth.
He disappears into the bedroom and returns with a flannel shirt and sweatpants that might fit three of me. "These will have to do."
