Page 28 of The Fault Between Us
Next, Jerrylynn brought her through a spacious room with tree-trunk pillars and antler chandeliers. “Where is everybody?” Frannie took in the almost-empty room.
“Out seeing the sights,” Jerrylynn said. “They’ll be back at dinnertime, and they’ll be hungry. Through there is the cafeteria.” Jerrylynnmotioned to closed double doors. “We don’t have our own eating area, so meals for savages are served here before it opens to the dudes.”
“Dudes?” Frannie asked.
Jerrylynn flashed a cute dimple. “You’re a savage, the guests are dudes.”
“Cool,” Frannie said, eyeing the cafeteria and thinking that she could use something to eat. That Jell-O had been hours ago. But Jerrylynn was already heading to the great outdoors. Frannie skipped to keep up with her guide as they went down a hill to a ramshackle cabin. A clothesline stretched alongside it draped with shirts, pants, and girls’ underwear.
“This,” Jerrylynn said with a flourish of her hand, “is the rat trap.” Frannie’s face must have looked funny, because Jerrylynn laughed. “The boys’ dorm is called the dungeon, and it’s even worse.”
Inside the screen door a row of cots lined one wall and open storage shelves the other, messy with piles of bright clothing. Jerrylynn showed Frannie to a bed in the corner and pushed aside a pile of clothes to make an open spot on the shelves.
Frannie dropped her suitcase and lay down on the bed. A nap would be divine.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Jerrylynn poked her. “We have work to do.”
“What’s my job?” she asked, pushing herself up to stand again.
“You’re a pillow puncher like me,” Jerrylynn said. “That’s what we call cabin maids.”
Pillow puncher didn’t sound so bad. Frannie followed Jerrylynn down a dusty trail to a line of log cabins. There were dozens—maybe hundreds—of them. Towels were draped over the railings, lawn chairs, ice chests, and children’s toys were strewn all over.
“This is the low rent district,” Jerrylynn explained as she stopped in front of a wheeled cart stacked with buckets, bottles, and the kind of cleaning brushes Frannie had seen Flo use. “Not fancy like the big hotel on the other side of the river, but not as rough as the sagebrushers have it.”
“Sagebrushers?” Frannie didn’t know that word either.
“The tenters over in the auto camp.” Jerrylynn pushed open the screen door of the first cabin. “We need to get through all these, and then help out on the south side.”
There were more? Frannie’s high spirits took a nosedive. How long was she supposed to work? When did they get to relax and do all the fun things Claire had talked about? What about lunch?
The cabin wasn’t big—just one room about the size of Frannie’s bedroom at home—but it looked like the atom bomb had gone off in it. Sheets and blankets were tangled on two sets of bunk beds. Clothes and suitcases littered the plank floor. Beside an iron stove was a small table with a water pitcher and crumpled towels and on a shelf below, a white clay pot.
Frannie took it in. “People pay money to stay here?”
“And we clean up after them.” Jerrylynn grabbed a broom. “We have a lot of traditions around here,” she explained. “You’ll get to know them. But one of them is the newbies get to empty the ducks.”
“What’s a duck?”
Jerrylynn pointed to the clay pot. Frannie lifted the lid and almost retched right there. She slammed the lid back down. “It’s...” She couldn’t even say it.
“Yep.” Jerrylynn nodded. “Dudes don’t want to walk to the outhouse in the middle of the night, you know, because of the bears.” She started sweeping. “You have to take it to the outhouse, dump it, and rinse it good with that garden hose out there.”
Frannie stared at the bucket. She’d never done anything so... disgusting. She wouldn’t touch it. It was too icky.
“Get a move on,” Jerrylynn prompted.
Frannie took a step back toward the door. Maybe she could go to Twig, ask for a different job. But that was a no-go. She’d been lucky to get this one. She could bug out and look like a dummy. A wimp. Go back to Claire and take her lumps. Get a lecture from Bridget, and Dad would hear how she’d come back with her tail between her legs.
No. Nope. No way.
She took a deep breath, held it, and did what she had to do.
chapter 17:CLAIRE
Claire sat down hard on the kitchen chair and read the note again.Thanks for everything, sis. Don’t worry about me, F.
She’d driven home from the Depot, taking deep breaths and telling herself she couldn’t fall apart. Lots of men went away to work. They went to logging camps and mines, and even to Oregon to work on the fishing boats. Red would be back. She was fine. But what would she tell Frannie? She’d have to give some explanation to both her sisters eventually—and that would get to Dad. Would he call her, frantic again? Would he tell herI told you so? She knew for certain that his opinion of Red would go even lower.
