Picture Me Gone
“If they are not Matthew, they may know where he is. Something tells me that he’s not here. I can’t explain the feeling. Something about Honey’s howl, the way her excitement waned, a dog following an old trail.
We will have to return.
It is three quarters of an hour back to the Mountain View Motor Inn, where we stop and tell them we will be staying another night. Then we head into town. We have time to kill and Gil needs to buy a new razor.
While he decides between the blue and the silver, I ask him for five dollars to buy a small stuffed moose.
We’re so far north here that you might say we’re inundated with moose. There’s the Mighty Moose Café in town and Moose Martin Antiques, in front of which is a huge wooden carved moose, almost as big as a real one. There are paintings of moose in the office of the Mountain View Motor Inn. The place we have breakfast, though not named after a moose, has a drawing of a moose on the menu.
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