Mickey McCann was eighty years old at the time. He was the first owner of Mickey’s Camp and now his son ran it. He still lived at McLennon Lake, in a cabin a couple of kilometres from the landing. He was about to meet our Jonny.
Jonny, after leaving shore in the boat, stopped in at the first cabin he found, which was empty. He broke in, looking for a rifle, but finding none he left. The second cabin he found was occupied by Mickey. Mickey had noted that it was the first night that fall that he had to turn the lights on in the cabin, and he had just sat down to listen to a Blue Jay’s game when he heard someone come in. “Hello, where did you come from?” was how he greeted Jonny, but he wasn’t listening for he had noticed a .410 shotgun that Mickey kept by the door in case of bears.
When he picked up the gun Mickey crossed the floor to where he was standing and grabbed it from him. The accused then reached into his jacket and pulled out the handgun, saying “I’ll kill you you son of a bitch” and Mickey wisely let go of the shotgun, telling him not to do anything stupid and asking him what he wanted.
What he wanted was more guns, but Mickey didn’t have any there, they were all at Mickey’s Camp. Jonny went through the cabin, all the while asking for a rifle, and took ammunition for the .410 and a couple of knives. He then went outside and kicked in three sheds in his quest for a rifle. He then set off in the boat to look for more cabins.
When he moved off onto the lake, Mickey went to the other side of the small point the cabin was on, where he had a couple of canoes. He then quietly paddled back to the landing, where he found the ERT. He told them what happened as they settled in, waiting for daylight.
Jonny in the mean time kept on down the lake, where he found another cabin, whose owner just happened to be away for the night. He ransacked the cabin, still looking for that elusive rifle, and once again he came up short. He found another shotgun, and a crossbow, more ammunition and a set of binoculars but no rifle. By now his frustration was palpable, and he took it out on the cabin, throwing things around and as he left he lit a roll of paper towels on fire. Luckily they failed to ignite the rest of the cabin. As he went down to the dock he still roiled with frustration, and he took it out on the cabin owner’s two pet ducks sleeping there, killing them both.
He then went back down the lake, heading for the landing and a confrontation.
Comments
One response
What a nutter, don’t keep us waiting too long for the climax!