Grandpa Roy Has A Stern Warning

Everybody in the mountains where the cabin was were so nice to me. There was Mr. Becker, who had owned the small grocery store down the street (my Dad's new wife, Dottie, would come to turn it into a bar & grill years later), the man who delivered the mail, all the neighbors, the people who owned the local restaurants, even the local garbage man. Everybody knew I was Grandpa Roy's grand daughter. They respected him, so I think they treated me extra nice. I would try to be extra nice to everyone in return. I always wanted to set a proud example for my Grandpa.

I made another good friend in the mountains. Her name was Connie. Connie was a lot older than me, but we would become blood sisters one summer...literally! She would cut my finger with a knife, after cutting her own, and we would rub bloody fingers together. A ritual would follow... I didn't really understand it all, but I knew it was very serious, and we would be bonded for life! That was just fine with me, because Connie had a horse!! A horse named Buffy. And Buffy would have a baby one summer. A baby named Apache. Oh, how I loved being Connie's friend!! She would teach me to ride bareback, and let me play for hours on end with the little baby horse. Just imagine that! A city girl like me, riding horses through the fields! I would even learn how to mount Buffy by running from behind and jumping on her back. Wow! Those were really the days!

Connie's parents were really nice too! They treated me like family. Even her sister, Sharon, who was way older. (Sharon to this day helps my Dad with the yard work.) I remember her parents so clearly. In fact, it was her Dad, Mr. Larry Lombardi, who found my Grandpa when he had died. Connie and her family had loved Grandpa Roy very much, and they took special care of me when he passed.

Often in the summer Mom and I stayed at the cabin, Connie and I would have sleep overs. Usually I would stay in the cabin with Mom, but when Connie stayed, we would sleep in my little pink cottage. We would stay up most of the night talking girl talk...sometimes until morning. I remember sometimes, the garbage man would come and tap on the window. The garbage cans were right outside of it. He must have heard us laughing inside. I would open the blinds and wave to him. He would look inside, around the room, and wave back, making small talk and wishing us a good day. He was really nice.

One night, when Connie and I were sleeping in the little pink cottage, I thought I heard the door open. I turned to look, and there was Grandpa Roy, standing over the bed. I looked over to Connie, but she was fast asleep. "Melody!", he said, in a very stern voice... "You don't stay out here anymore! And you don't ever, EVER, speak to the garbage man again!!" What? Why? "Do as I say," he warned... "and go inside now...NOW!" Oh, gosh how he scared me! I woke Connie up. When I turned around Grandpa was gone. I told her we had to go back and sleep in the house.

Mom used to take us to Bear River almost everyday. The heat was sweltering, and it was the only place we could cool off. But something bad had been happening at Bear River that summer. People camping were being murdered. Gruesome murders.... It would be on the news every night. And sure enough...when they caught the crazy mad murderer...it would be our garbage man.