Counter Clockwise

          The drive continued and so did the rain. Darren closed his Science book and the card game began. The three adults pulled ahead early while the kid quickly went in the hole for a whopping ninety cents… but he was learning.

The game continued through the trip until the gamblers tired. “That’s it for me.” Ben said as he threw in his last hand. “I’m going to sit up front with Kurt ‘til we reach the lake. It shouldn’t be more than another hour.”

          The game was over and the players began to take new reclining positions for what little bit of a night’s sleep might be left. The rain was noisy but it wasn’t  keeping anyone from their slumber. Kurt and Ben chatted quietly over family matters as the wet road slipped along underneath. It wasn’t long before the engine and caboose had pulled into the, rarely used, upper parking lot at the campsite entrance. There were no other vehicles so Kurt pulled alongside the guardrail, rather than try to figure out any marked parking pattern in this foggy rain.

          Ben, the only smoker in the group, had been forbidden to light up inside the RV. The motor coach had barely stopped, when Ben grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and headed for the exit. He opened the door to a torrent of rain water and almost landed in a two foot deep puddle. The engine was still running. “Don’t shut it, Kurt! We need to move it a little or we’ll be swimming out in the morning. It looks like you have to back it up about ten feet for a high spot. I don‘t see anything but water ahead.”

          Kurt shifted into reverse and tried to see behind the boat. It was hopeless. He backed up slowly until there was a loud bang of metal against metal.

          “What the hell was that?” Popped up Frank.

          “Shit!” Said Kurt, in Ben’s direction. “You and them damned smokes.

          “It’s just the guard-rail, Kurt.” Ben said, offering little comfort. “It looks like the plate bracket on the trailer scraped those tension cables. I’ll go check it out. Give me the flashlight.”

          Ben exited the coach directing the light beam toward the back of the boat. The ground was wet but not muddy. The parking lot was solid rock, either shale or granite and probable thirty feet thick. It had its highs and lows and right now Ben was trying to touchdown on the highs. He lit his cigarette and laid the lighter on the boat. He then examined the impact area to discover that the entire license plate mounting had passed under the braided cable restraints and appeared wedged into place. He spoke inwardly with a single word of profanity; then walked back slowly toward the RV door. As he stepped aboard the coach, he realized that he had left his cigarette lighter on the boat. “Damn” He said …aloud.

          “How bad is it?” Asked Kurt.

          Ben flicked his smoke into a puddle and closed the door. “It’s fine. You just can’t pull out.  It’s wedged in at the plate holder, but we can free it. We’ll do it, tomorrow.”