Bear the Great – Chapter Eight.
“Hey Aelin.”
What was his name? Donald? David? Daniel? She was terrible with names. That was it. Dan.
“Hi Dan.”
“What are you doing here this early? You should get a volunteer to do that for you. Makes for an awful long day.”
She was putting up the American flag outside the Visitor Center just after sunrise. Today it was supposed to be at half-mast. She couldn’t remember why. Probably another school shooting. There was always another school shooting. But wasn’t school already out for the year? Yeah, it was mid-June. School was definitely out already.
“A Ranger’s work is never done, Dan. You know that.”
“You’re probably right. Have a good one. I’m heading up on South Rim today. Before it gets too hot.”
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Dan was a regular hiker at the Park, Aelin knew. He lived nearby and also was a volunteer. He’d done some Corridor Cleaning last week on the scrub oak. He’d also offered to man the entrance booth. But she preferred putting younger people out there. It projected a better image to the Park’s guests. Not that she was ageist, exactly. It was just… well… you didn’t see a lot of retirees behind the counter at Starbucks, now did you? Or running the register at REI? Yeah, sure, maybe as a WalMart greeter. But certain roles required a youthful image. And it was well within her purview as Ranger to match the right people with the right jobs. Right?
She’d put him on a trail construction detail for the new connecter between Bear Falls and Elk Valley. They would need to install railroad tie steps on some of the steeper stretches so hikers wouldn’t need to crabwalk up to the top. Or fall and break their dang necks on the way back down. That work was scheduled to begin next week. The big earth-moving equipment had already done most of the heavy lifting. But it would take teams of trail builders with McLeods and Pulaskis to have it all ready for the masses by fall. Plenty enough to keep the retirees busy.
“Have a good one. It’ll be a scorcher by noon. You were smart to come out early. See’ya.”
“‘Bye.”
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As she was turning to head inside the Visitor Center – all the better get a head start on the day’s paperwork – she noticed a 25-year-old Chrysler 300 sitting in the lot. Who drives a gas-guzzler like that anymore? She herself drove a battered Prius which had been bought new, driven hard, and now was showing its age. Her Prius was old, but not near as ancient as that Chrysler. Then, she answered her own question: Retirees. That’s who drives a car that only gets 22 miles per gallon.
Funny, she was going to be the last person to see him alive. Well, the last person except for maybe one other. Once she was back inside, fortified with strong coffee and sitting at her desk, she idly gazed back through the glass doors she had just come in by. Procrastination was a weakness, she knew. But there were worse character flaws. Right? It was then she noticed the black Honda Accord that had just pulled in the lot and was parked at the opposite end from the 300. The Accord’s driver waited a long while before getting out.
On a day that promised to be a scorcher, Aelin thought it odd that this person wore a hoodie. The pulled-up hood effectively obscured their face. Ah well. It takes all kinds to make a world I guess. If they wanna sweat their asses off, let ’em go ahead and sweat. It was no skin off her nose.
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This paperwork wasn’t gonna fill itself out. Time to get cracking. Down at the bottom of her bottom desk drawer was a form she’d never actually had to use before at Roxborough State Park. Over at Chatfield, with two drowning victims this season, they’d had plenty of opportunity to put it to good use already. The form? “Death of a State Park Visitor – Standards and Procedures.”
Aelin was destined for a much longer day today than she ever imagined. She just didn’t know it yet.