Samantha PI
Marley Quinn
Samantha PI
by Marley Quinn
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Samantha PI
by Marley Quinn
© 2025 Marley Quinn
All rights reserved.
Author: Marley Quinn
Contact details: marleyquinn.reformist760@passinbox.com
Book cover, illustration: Marley Quinn
Editing, proofreading: Marley Quinn
This e-book, including its portions, is protected by copyright and may not be reproduced, resold, or redistributed without the permission of the author.
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Table of Contents
Copyright Information
Table of Contents
Ralphie Goes Missing
Strangers in Town
A Walk in the Woods
A Chat With Skeeter and Ma
Bath Time in the Creek
Meeting Wolfie Over a Cup of Tea
The Case of the Missing Registries
A Chat With Mrs. Hanson
Mr. Lee, Mr. Lee
Popsicles and Chaos
A Visit to the Charles Estate
The Only Big-City Boy in Our Small Town
The Case of the Peeping Pervert
A Chat With Avery Calhoun
An Interesting Talk With Nyla
Lila Mae and Her Deaf Granny
Caught in the Act!
Private Justice
The Case of the Swiped Stage Stash
A Deep Dive Into the Lively Arts
A Dramatic Conversation Indeed
A Chat With Miss Peggy
A Visit With Jebediah
Fiona’s Formals
The Case of the Sisters Snatchers
Catching Up With Deputy Doug
An Unexpected Lift
Full of Something
On Trial Without a Lawyer
I’m Not Like Other Girls
Cake and Ice Cream
The Case of the Sabotaged Summer Squash
Cramped in a Booth
Geriatric Love Triangle
In Pursuit of Tranquility
The Other POV
Rachel’s Story
Ron and Marie
Snatched Away
The Case of the Masked Mischiefmakers
An Unexpected Delivery
The Tilted Bean
First Chance at Love
Airing of Grievances
A Titan Falls
Tragedy
Emancipation
Also by Marley Quinn
Ralphie Goes Missing
It’s a fact of life that nobody likes a snoop.
I know because I am one, and a lot of people resent me for it. But I never let that stop me!
“Quit sticking your nose where it don’t belong,” my daddy says as we walk home for lunch. “You're supposed to be helping your old man, not driving him crazy.”
“But I need experience too, Daddy," I say. "And watching you do your police work is really quite educational."
But before my daddy can reply, we hear a tremendous shout coming from across the street.
"Oh no!" wails our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Harris. "Somebody help me!"
With a sigh, my daddy veers away from the sidewalk leading up to our front porch and walks over to her fence. "Everything okay, Mrs. Harris?"
"It's Ralphie, my dog! He's gone!" says Mrs. Harris.
"Your dog? Well, I'm sure he'll turn up," says my daddy. "Good dogs always do."
"I know my Ralphie, and it isn't like him to disappear like this," says Mrs. Harris. "And look, my gate's open. I think someone took him!"
My daddy chuckles. "Now, why would anyone want to take an old mutt like that?"
Mrs. Harris's eyes go wide. "He's not a mutt! He's my darling Ralphie!"
My daddy shrugs. "Sorry, ma'am. Wish I could help, but it don't exactly sound like police business."
"Well, if you won't do anything about it, then maybe I should call someone who will!" sniffs Mrs. Harris. "This is just unacceptable!"
My daddy sighs and then walks back across the street. "Come on now, Samantha. Lunch isn't gonna fix itself."
"Wait one second," I say. As soon as my daddy goes inside the house, I scamper across the street and knock on Mrs. Harris's door.
She opens the door a moment later, looking down at me with a scowl. "What do you want?"
"I want to help," I say. "I know your dog means a lot to you. Maybe I can find him for you."
Mrs. Harris scoffs. "What's a little bitty girl like you know about finding lost dogs?"
I ignore her insult. "Mrs. Harris, you don't have to agree to hire me, but what have you got to lose?"
After a moment of thinking, Mrs. Harris shakes her head. "No. Maybe Chief Johnson was right. Maybe my Ralphie just got out somehow, and he'll come back home on his own."
I nod, feeling crestfallen. "Okay then, I guess I'll leave you alone." I turn around and start heading back to our house when Mrs. Harris calls after me.
"Hey, wait a minute there, young lady. How much would you charge to bring my Ralphie home to me?"
I stop and turn around, grinning. "Fifty dollars."
"Fifty dollars?! Why, that's highway robbery!" Mrs. Harris splutters.
"That's how much I charge," I say. "Take it or leave it."
"Fine, fine, fifty bucks it is," says Mrs. Harris. "Now find my sweet Ralphie!"
I wait until I turn around to do a fist pump. Yes! My very first case!
Inside the house, while we're eating lunch, I explain to my daddy that Mrs. Harris has officially hired me to find her dog.
"I'm telling you, Samantha. He's probably just down at the creek hunting up a woodchuck or wandering through the woods, having himself a good old time. Ain't nobody take that woman's dog," he says.
"If that's so, then who opened her gate?" I counter.
"Who knows?" says my daddy, helping himself to another forkful of coleslaw. "Could've been the wind. Or maybe the old fool did it herself and forgot."
"I'm assuming you saw the muddy bootprints on her sidewalk, too, right?" I say as I debate whether or not to eat another piece of cornbread. It's tasty, but it's also fattening. "You know, the ones leading away directly from Mrs. Harris's yard?"
"So, there was a little mud on her sidewalk. What of it?" says my daddy, using his fork to scoop up a mouthful of beans.
"Not just mud, but a particularly bright red-orange shade of mud. I don't recall seeing anything like that here in town," I say. "More like something you'd see out in the country."
My daddy raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying that you suspect someone from out of town might've taken Mrs. Harris's dog?"
"Could be," I say. "What do you think?"
"I think you've got an overactive mind," says my daddy with a grin. "After all, why in the world would someone come all the way into town just to steal a mangy old dog?"
"I don't know that part yet," I say. "But I aim to find out!"
Strangers in Town
I spend the rest of the afternoon going door to door, asking people if they’ve seen any strangers in town lately, especially one with a dog. Everybody looks at me as if I'd grown two heads or something.
Finally, I decide to go talk to the postman, Mr. Smith. He’s only got one eye on account of being injured overseas, but since he delivers mail to every single person in town, he surely must know everything that goes on.
When I knock on his door, I hear him yell, “Just a sec!” Then he stomps over to the door and opens it. “Yes?” he says.
“Hello, Mr. Smith,” I say. “My name is Samantha. My daddy is Chief Johnson.”
Mr. Smith squints at me. “You’re Big Bill’s girl, ain’t ya? Why, you're pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say. “As part of your official postal duties, do you happen to know if anyone new has moved into town recently? Someone with a dog, perhaps?”
Mr. Smith snorts. “New to town? Hah! Eden Valley ain’t but a wide patch in the road. All the youngins want out as soon as possible, not in!”
I give him a winning smile. “Well, maybe some outside folks got tired of life in the big city. Maybe they prefer some sweet country living, like us.”
“Nah,” says Mr. Smith. “I don’t know nothing about nobody moving into town. Now run along and let me finish my Salisbury steak 'fore it gets cold.”
I thank him and then turn around and head back to the main road. It’s getting late now, so I figure I might as well head on home and get supper started.
When I reach the corner, though, I notice a group of men standing together near a telephone pole. They’re wearing overalls and straw hats and they’re staring at each other with worried expressions.
One of them sees me walking past, and his face lights up. “Hey, there, girl!” he says. “Stop and talk to us for a second.”
Normally, I’d keep right on walking, but since they look out of place, I decide to chat with them for a minute.
“What’s going on, fellers?” I say. “Ya’ll look like you got something worrying on your minds.”
The man who spoke up first grins. “Yeah, we’re a little bit stuck on what to do next.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“It’s our cousin, Jebediah. He done gone and run off. Went up to check on him a couple days ago at the shack and saw he’d skedaddled. Figured he might’ve come into town, down to the schoolhouse. But we got a bit turned around, trying to find it.”
“Ah,” I say. “And this cousin of yours, what does he look like?”
“Young, skinny, missing a tooth,” says the man. “Looks real stupid.”
“And lazy as a...” begins one of the other men before catching himself in time.
“And why do you suspect he might be headed to the school?” I say.
“Oh, he’s always got these damned fool ideas coming in his head. Jebediah thinks he’s too big for his britches,” says the first man, pausing to spit on the ground. “Anyway, you ain’t seen him, have ya?”
“No, I haven’t,” I say. “Say, where y’all from? Don’t think I’ve seen you fellers in town before.”
“Our place is up in the hills,” says the first man. “You ought to come up and give us a visit. You might like it. You know, fresh air and all.”
For some reason, his comment makes all the other guys break into laughter.
“Oh yeah,” says one of them, wiping tears from his eyes. “That’s a real hoot, George! You know damned well fancy town girls like her don’t go up in the hills.”
“Right, right,” agrees George, smiling so wide that I can see the tobacco stains on his teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, ma’am, if you’d be so kind as to point us in the direction of the schoolhouse, we’ll be on our way.”
I nod and then point west toward what passes for downtown. I watch as the men begin walking that way, laughing and joking amongst themselves. I chose to ignore the impolite remarks about me that I overhear.
I then scurry home. When I walk into the kitchen, my daddy’s sitting at the table. “Where in tarnation have you been, Samantha? I’m hungry.”
“Daddy, I think I may have found a clue,” I say. “I just ran into a group of fellers standing around on the corner of Maple, and they were clearly not from around here.”
“Alright,” says my daddy. “And what about ’em?”
“They were talking about their cousin, Jebediah,” I say. “Said he had run away, and they suspected he was here in town. Asked me if I’d seen him.”
“And what’s that got to do with Mrs. Harris’s dog?” says my daddy.
“Those fellas had the same red-orange mud on their boots as the mud on Mrs. Harris’s sidewalk,” I say. “They said they’re from up in the hills. Tomorrow, I think I’m going to go up there and take a look around.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” says my daddy. “Them families up there can be mighty peculiar. I don’t think it’s safe for a girl like you to be traipsing around them woods.”
“Daddy, please. I promise I’ll be careful. But I really think I can discover some more clues up there!”
My daddy sighs. “All right, Samantha. But enough talk. I’m hungry enough to eat a bear.”
“Thanks, Daddy!” I say. With a grin on my face, I put on my apron and start cooking supper. After the dishes are washed and neatly stacked, I dash upstairs to get ready for bed.
Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day!
A Walk in the Woods
In the morning, it takes me a while to figure out what I'm going to wear for my expedition out to the hills.
Of course, I start with my good boots, the ones I wear when my daddy takes me on a camping and fishing trip. I match them with my thickest, toughest pair of blue jeans, knowing I might be scrambling around in some rough country. But what to wear on top?
After trying on several items, I settle on an off-shoulder camo top that my Aunt Evelyn bought me last year for my birthday. Since then, I've filled out quite a bit, so it's a little tight. I know it isn't perfect, but it's the closest thing I've got to putting together an outfit that I hope doesn't immediately mark me as a town girl.
I hop on my bicycle and ride east until I get to the end of Magnolia Lane, where I lean my bike against a tree. From there, it's a matter of following some narrow paths through the woods. After about an hour, I stop to get my water bottle out of my backpack and take a quick breather.
It's around two hours later when I feel the ground begin to slope upward. The trail here is quite narrow, and I have to pace myself as it gets steeper the further I progress up the hill.
Actually, calling it a "hill" is a bit of a misnomer, as it's more like a small mountain. I see plenty of scrubby pine trees and underbrush, but I don't see anything that looks like a trace of human habitation.
Wondering if I'd gotten myself hopelessly lost, I'm considering turning around and going back home when I see a glint of light through the trees. As I get closer, I can see that it's a simple shack with a tarpaper roof and a single, rather dirty window.
Something must be cooking on the far side of the shack because there's a small column of white smoke rising up in the air.
I set down my backpack and then cautiously approach the shack. I can't hear or see anyone, but I know that someone must be nearby to tend to that fire.
I nearly jump out of my skin when suddenly a man steps out from behind a tree. He's dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, and he's holding a shotgun in his hands.
"Who are you?" he snarls. "And what are you doing snooping around my property?"
"Hi there, sir. My name is Samatha Johnson," I say, holding my hands up. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Name's Jebediah. He's a skinny feller, missing one tooth."
"Ain't no Jebediah around here, sweet pea," says the man, leaning over to hawk a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground.
"Well then, I'll be on my way," I say.
"Now hold on a goshdarn minute. Missing one tooth, you say?" says the man. "You talking about Skeeter's boy, ain't ya?"
"Um, yeah," I say, playing along.
"Heard he ran off and abandoned his post. Damned still about burned to the ground 'fore his cousin George got up there," says the man with a chuckle.
"Still?" I say.
The man's eyes narrow as he leans in to look at me more intensely. "Ain't that why you up here, girl? Get yo' daddy his White Jesus? Ain't no other reason for folks like you to be coming 'round these parts."
"Yes, um, yes, that's right," I say, my heart pounding in my chest. "Do you have some?"
"Well now, that's more like it," says the man with a grin. "Foller me."
Hesitantly, I follow the man around to the far side of the shack where I see a small wood fire burning merrily underneath a strange contraption consisting of copper pipes and a large metal barrel.
"It's ten for a flask and twenty for a wallop," says the man, resting his shotgun against the outside wall of his shack.
"Um, I'll take a flask," I say. I have no idea what a wallop is, but I know I don't want to spend any more money than I have to.
The man stares at me for a long moment, a frown on his face. "Well?"
"Um," I say, feeling a light perspiration begin to form on the back of my neck.
"Did a mule kick you in the head or what, sweet pea? Go get yer damned flask!" says the man.
"Oh, right, right," I say. I dash over to where I had set down my backpack. I root around until I find my water bottle, then empty its contents onto the ground. "Here you go, sir."
"Sheeeit," mutters the man as he opens a spigot at the bottom of the metal barrel. A thin stream of clear liquid comes flowing out and into my water bottle. "Now don't you be tempted to drank none of this yourself, youngin'. A half-pint like you? One sip and you'll likely go blind!"
I say nothing as the man cackles with laughter. After a couple of minutes, my bottle is full. I take out my wallet and hand him a $10 bill, which disappears into his front pocket as quick as a wink. Gingerly, I take my water bottle from him and place it into the bottom of my backpack, ignoring the grease that gets on my hands.
"Thanks," I say after I shoulder my backpack. "If you could just point me in the direction of Skeeter's place, I'll be on my way."
"About a mile that way yonder," says the man pointing west. "Just look for the big old burnt oak tree. You can't miss it."
"Much obliged," I say and turn around.
"Hey, why don't you stay a while? I got me a bottle of apple jack I could share with you," the man calls out after me. "Come on, darling. We could have ourselves some real fun."
I turn around and shake my head. "Sorry, sir, but I'm on a schedule today. I'll leave you to it."
The man grunts. "Well, suit yourself. But come on back any time you like. You're a cutie, for sure."
"Thanks," I say, blushing a bit. I then hurry back into the woods.
After another half hour, I pause to take a breather when I come across a little creek. The boots and jeans were the right choice for this rough terrain, but I'm stifling in my clothes on account of the humidity.
I scoop up a little water with my hand and drip it onto the back of my neck, shivering with pleasure as it trickles down my back. I then splash a little water on my upper chest, trying to get some relief from the heat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I sense something, and I look up to see a teenage boy watching me intently from behind a tree about fifty yards away.
I give him a friendly smile, but he immediately darts off out of sight.
A Chat With Skeeter and Ma
I sigh and resume my trek westward.
A few minutes later, I see an enormous oak tree, its trunk split nearly in two. This has to be the tree the man told me about. I slow down and begin exploring the area until I come across a small roughhewn wood cabin in a little clearing.
As I get closer, I can hear some chickens gabbling away from somewhere behind the cabin.
I walk over to the window on the side of the cabin and peer inside. The windowpane is dusty, but I can just make out a small kitchen, complete with a wood-fired stove.
I walk around to the front of the cabin and see that the door is slightly ajar, so I peek my head in and look around. The place is cozy and looks surprisingly neat and well-kept. I can see a sofa and a couple of recliners, and there's a rather thick, lush-looking rug on the floor.
"Well, well," I hear a man chuckle from behind me. "Looks like I caught me a thief. Ma! Get out here!"
I slowly turn around, aghast to see that the man has a long pitchfork that he's holding out like a weapon.
There's a rather sinister look of delight on his face. He's wearing a straw hat and overalls, and he has a long, matted beard. I can't tell if he's old or just a middle-aged man who looks older than his years.
"Ma!" shouts the man, his eyes alight with excitement.
A moment later, a middle-aged woman wearing a long dress and an apron comes bustling around the side of the cabin. "Goodness gracious, Skeeter, what is it?"
"Caught me a sticky-fingered bandit," cackles Skeeter, jabbing his pitchfork toward my midsection. "Red-handed! These woods is crawling with 'em!"
"Why, that's just a little bitty girl," says the woman, pushing the handle of his pitchfork until the end touches the ground, for which I am immensely grateful. "You ain't no thief, are ya, hon?"
"No, ma'am," I say, lowering my hands.
"Then what she doing peeping around our cabin, then, eh, Ma?" says Skeeter. "Look, she even got a pack-a-back. I bet she done filled it with all our treasures."
"I swear, I'm no thief," I say. "And I'd be happy to show you the contents of my backpack if you like. I'm just looking for Jebediah."
"Jebediah?" says the man, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Now, what in the hell you want with that no-account, lazy bastard?"
"Come on in the house, darling," says the woman, flashing an angry look at Skeeter. "Don't want this girl telling folks we ain't got no manners. We can talk about Jebediah in there."
"Thank you, kindly, ma'am," I say. I give the woman my best polite, sweet, good-girl smile and then follow her inside the cabin. Skeeter stomps his way in behind us a moment later and sits down on a rocking chair.
"Now, sit right there and I'll fix you up some sweet tea," says the woman. "And then you can explain why you're out looking for our Jebediah."
"Damn fool! He ain't one of our'n no more," snarls Skeeter.
"My name is Samantha Johnson. I'm from over yonder in Eden Valley. I'm trying to track down a lost dog, and I think Jebediah might be able to help me," I say, trying to maintain my composure as Skeeter keeps glaring at me.
"Johnson?" says Skeeter. "You ain't kinfolk with that Big Bill Johnson is you?"
"Why, yes," I say, giving him my sweetest smile. "That's my daddy."
"I knew it!" says Skeeter, jumping to his feet. "Her daddy's the law! I knew she was trouble, moment I clapped eyes on her!"
"Now, calm yourself down, Skeeter, before you bust a vein," says Ma, the woman whom I assume is his wife. You can see for yourself she ain't but knee high to a grasshopper. I don't know why she's here, but it sure as paint ain't about no police business."
"Miss Samantha, do you know that your Daddy's best pal Sheriff Donagher raided my property a couple of years back? Smashed everything to smithereens!" says Skeeter. "Tried to ruin me!"
"Well, I am certainly sorry to hear that he caused you any distress," I say. "But I assure you that my daddy was just doing his job."
"This girl ain't nothing but trouble, Ma!" says Skeeter. "I say we give her a hiding. That'll teach that no good daddy of hers not to poke his nose into my business."
"You'll do nothing of the sort," says Ma, handing me a large glass of iced tea. "Now, tell me, sweetie, why do you think our Jebediah has anything to do with your missing dog?"
"Well, ma'am, it's a long story, but I'm just following where the clues lead me," I say. "And they led me to a shack up in the woods about a mile over that way. I met a fellow operating a... doing some outdoor cooking, and we got to talking. Then he pointed me to your place. I didn't quite catch his name, but he did say that he was making something called White Jesus."
"A-ha!" says Skeeter. "That Billy ain't got the sense he was born with. Telling town folks where we live? Lord 'a mercy!"
"Well, dear, as long as you didn't buy any of that rotgot of his. Why, that stuff's pure poison," says Ma with a little chuckle. "Otherwise, a friendly chat is fine, I suppose. We do like to pride ourselves on being neighborly up here in these hills."
Oops! I try to stop myself from blushing, but it turns out that it's impossible.
"Well..." I say.
"Jumping Jehosaphat!" says Skeeter, now angrily stomping around in circles. "You buying from the competition, and then he sends you snooping over here? I'm about fixed to spit! Old Billy and me gonna have some words next time I see him."
"Sorry," I say. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry to have caused y'all so much trouble, today. Perhaps I best be on my way."
"P'rhaps another time, dearie," says Ma.
"Again, sorry for the inconvenience. Goodbye, um... Mister Skeeter. And to you as well, ma'am," I say.
I turn and leave the cabin, but just as I'm heading away from their property, Ma comes running up to me.
"Here," she whispers. "If you find him, tell him his momma loves him."
I look down and see that she's pressed a small, somewhat faded photo into the palm of my hand. To my surprise, I recognize that it's the same boy who was watching me back at the creek!
Bath Time in the Creek
As I walk through the woods, occasionally slapping away mosquitos, I think back on all the clues I've gathered so far.
I know that there was a trail of red-orange mud leading away from Mrs. Wilkins' gate, and I know that the men from the hills that I saw in town had the same color mud on their boots. It's pretty obvious that they're involved in making moonshine, and that it's a family business.
I also know that Jebediah is a teenage boy who apparently ran away from his job making moonshine. This may or may not be connected to his desire to go to school in Eden Valley.
I also know that his father and cousins are angry that he ran off, but his mother misses him. And she'd probably be quite happy if I could find a way to get him to return home.
But is Jebediah connected to the disappearance of Ralphie, Mrs. Wilkins' dog? I don't know.
The only way that I'm going to find out, though, is to talk to him. But where is he? All I know is that I caught a glimpse of him back at the creek, so that's where I'm headed now.
When I get to the creek, I look around, but there's no sign of anyone. I know that Jebediah spooks easily since he ran away the last time I tried to speak to him. So, how to lure him out, if he is, indeed, hiding somewhere nearby in the woods?
Luckily, I'm a girl, so I formulate a plan to see if I can't get Jebediah close enough for me to talk to him for a moment. More than one person has told me that I'm pretty, especially now that I'm no longer a skinny tomboy, so perhaps I can use my womanly wiles to draw Jebediah out of hiding.
Stripping down to my bra and panties isn't something that I normally do in a public setting, especially not in a wild place like these woods, but I think my plan will work.
Besides, I'm sweltering in this awful heat, and my jeans and boots are becoming unbearable. A quick dip in the creek will make me feel a lot better, even if Jebediah doesn't fall for my bait.
My heart is beating in my chest as I pull off my top, but then I get a hold of myself and control my breathing. It takes a minute to get my boots unlaced and my jeans off, but finally, I'm free.
Even before I get in the water, the air on my bare skin feels wonderful.
Gingerly, I make myself down to the creek and then dip one foot in. The water is lovely and cold, sending a shiver of pleasure racing down my spine.
I squat down until I can feel my bottom getting wet, and then I use my hands to splash a little water on my body. It may not be as nice as the community swimming pool in town, but I'm really enjoying my little bathing session in the creek.
As I sit there, playing in the water, I sense a little movement out of the corner of my eye. It could be an animal, or it could be Jebediah. Or heck, it could be one of those moonshiners, in which case I might be in trouble.
I pretend not to notice and keep splashing around.
It takes a lot of willpower not to turn my head, but I continue acting oblivious while watching the events unfold out of the corner of my eye.
Sure enough, I see that it's a person, but they're too far away for me to be able to tell whether or not it's Jebediah.
I hum and sing to myself, pretending like I'm just a girl who decided to have a little splashy fun time in the creek. Meanwhile, I wait for whoever it is to get closer.
Finally, there's no mistaking that the person is approaching the creek. I wait as long as I can, and then I turn my head to look directly at them.
It's Jebediah! He looks a little worse for wear than the boy in the photograph, but it's definitely him.
I give him a friendly smile. "Hi there."
But Jebediah doesn't say anything. His eyes are wide, and he's staring at me quite intently. I can't decide if he's intrigued by what he sees or if he's just scared. Or maybe both.
"My name is Samantha," I say. "This sure is a lovely creek. Would you care to join me?"
Again, Jebediah doesn't say anything. But now, I can see that his curiosity has gotten the better of him as he slowly inches a bit closer to me.
"Are you sure you don't want to come join me?" I say. "This water feels mighty fine." I then giggle and splash some water on my chest to try and lure him in even closer.
Finally, he speaks. "You're purdy."
"Why, thank you," I say, all smiles. "You're pretty handsome yourself. What's your name?"
Jebediah looks at me for a long time, his eyes darting between my chest and my face.
"Come on now," I say with a little giggle. "I won't bite. I promise."
"Jebediah," he says, his voice so quiet that I can barely hear him.
"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Jebediah," I say. I make a friendly gesture for him to come closer, but he stays rooted where he is a few feet away.
"Do you like to watch girls, Jebediah?" I say.
He nods.
"That's okay," I say. "Sometimes, girls like to be watched. Would you like to come closer?"
But he just shakes his head. I realize that I've got to make another plan.
"Jebediah, now that you and I are friends, can I ask you for a favor?" I say, batting my eyes.
He looks at me and doesn't say anything, but I can tell that I've piqued his interest.
"Do you have a towel I could borrow, Jebediah?" I say. "I'm afraid that I forgot to bring one when I decided to go bathing in this here creek."
Jebediah cocks his head for a moment and then springs to his feet. He dashes into the woods and is out of sight a moment later.
Darn it!
With my plan a failure, I stand up and walk over to where my backpack is sitting on the bank of the creek.
I don't want to put my clothes on while I'm still this wet, so I decide to sit there for a moment and let the sun dry me. I feel pretty exposed in just my bra and panties, but there's no one around.
To my surprise, a few minutes later, Jebediah returns. He's holding a rather ratty-looking blanket in his arms. He walks over close to me and holds it out.
"Why, thank you, Jebediah!" I say, getting to my feet. I accept the blanket and try not to think about how filthy it is as I use it to dry my legs and arms off a little.
I then set the blanket down and get dressed, feeling quite self-conscious as Jebediah watches me intently the whole time. I feel a lot better when I've got my top back on, that's for sure, even though it's a bit damp from all the lady misting I was doing earlier.
"Thank you for letting me use your towel, Jebediah," I say, holding it out to him. "Is there some way I can repay you?"
Jebediah takes the blanket, but he doesn't say anything. He may not be much of a talker, but I can tell by his eyes that he's fascinated by me, so I decide to press my luck.
"Say, do you live around here, Jebediah?" I say. "I'm awfully parched. I sure could use a glass of sweet tea, if you have one."
Jebediah stands there for a minute, seemingly debating something in his mind. He then crooks his finger and invites me to follow him.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head off after him, deeper into the woods.