Page 16 of Mountain Boss

It’s nothing exciting. A rather pitiful collection of ramen, peanut butter, crackers, and off-brand beef jerky. The basics, and all nonperishables, which is good because there’s no fridge in the Laundry Cabin.

I look at my phone to check the time.

I have fifty minutes before my first shift at Black Mountain Lodge starts.

Just enough time to shower, change into work clothes, get my food box, and eat a few spoonfuls of peanut butter.

I eye the front door as I shove my feet into my tennis shoes.

Knowing it was unlocked did not help me fall asleep last night.

Even if Mr. Black believes bears won’t be able to turn the handle, men can. And he was adamant about me not sharing the Bunk House with his male employees. So it seems a little counterintuitive that he wouldn’t care about an unlocked door.

But I suppose out here in the middle of the woods, there isn’t really a need to lock the Laundry Cabin. Because while there might be a platform in the back room, clearly this building wasn’t meant to be used as housing.

Still, I tried to wedge the little dining chair under the door handle, like how I’ve seen it done in movies. But the dinky chair wasn’t tall enough. So I just added a nice little layer of fear to my discomfort last night.

How cozy.

Going on my tiptoes, I reach over the dryers and pull the curtain aside.

I don’t see anything out of place.

No movement.

No bears or men or other creatures.

I let the curtain drop back into place.

“Looks clear,” I tell Spike.

My small cactus doesn’t reply. But that’s to be expected. She’s been a little testy after spending the last few days in a box.

I purse my lips and glance at the window above the table, then back at the one above the dryers.

Which way is west?

Do cacti do better in sunrise or sunset?

Does it make a difference?

Spike and I have been rooming together for two years, but it’s been in an apartment, and not a corner unit, so I’ve never gotten to choose what type of sunlight she gets.

“I’ll google the answer once I get on the Wi-Fi, okay?” I tell her, then I pick her up and set her on the windowsill above the table.

It’s not like Mr. Black couldn’t easily walk around the back of the Laundry Cabin and see Spike, but I figure facing her out back is better than in the window that faces the driveway. I don’t need my boss to accuse me of beingtoo girlybydecorating.

I glance at my phone again.

“Shit.”

Five minutes have passed, and I need to get a move on.

I snag the plastic grocery bag filled with my shower supplies off the counter and yank open the front door.

Cool air gusts through the doorway, and I hurry to step out, pulling the door closed behind me.

No railing,I remind myself and focus on my steps until I’m safely on the ground. Then I turn down the little path that leads to the driveway.

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