staring directly at the girl. John seemed to have picked up on Adele’s interest and was also following her gaze.
“So there’s someone like that around here? Someone who makes you feel uncomfortable?”
The girl nodded adamantly. “Yes, I don’t know his name, but…” She coughed and said quickly, “Some of the girls around here call him Stinkeye.”
Adele stared. “Stinkeye?”
The girl nodded. “It’s not very polite. Yes. But he spends a little bit too long looking at us when he comes through. Makes some of us uncomfortable. Akianne here,” she began, nodding toward the first girl by the water pump. Before she could continue, though, the girl turned around, scandalized, and snapped, “Shut up.”
But now Adele turned on Akianne as well. “Have you had an experience with this Stinkeye?”
Akianne leaned against the water pump, watching the boy fill his final jug. She frowned crossly at her friend again, but then looked at Adele.
“Nothing serious. But a few nights ago, I was getting something from the car, and he came up behind me.”
Adele stared. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head quickly, emphatically saying, “No, nothing like that. But it was just weird. He started asking all sorts of questions. About myself. Things he had no business knowing. Things about where I lived. If I had a boyfriend.”
The second girl shuddered, visibly shivering where she stood. The boy now had a frown on his face and was glaring at the mud. “All right,” Adele said. “So this fellow you call Stinkeye came up and asked inappropriate questions. What time was it?”
“After midnight,” said the girl. “Of course that’s what made it stand out. For one, he’s got to be twice my age. And he’s strange-looking.”
“Akianne,” the second girl protested.
Akianne turned back and said, “What? It’s true. He looks weird. You’re the one who called him Stinkeye.”
“No, I said that’s what others call him.”
“Look,” said Adele, “truly, I don’t care. It’s not important what you call him. So he accosted you at midnight, asking you questions. What did you do?”
With another long look at her friend, bordering on frustration that she’d been forced to answer this line of questioning, Akianne said, “It was hard to get away at first. He didn’t touch me, but he kept moving, trying to keep up. Sometimes it felt like he was even blocking my path. I got frustrated, I told him if he didn’t leave I’d scream. He backed off, but he kept asking questions. I ignored him. Sometimes he comes through and just stands over there.”
She nodded toward the wooden cabin. “He waits on the steps, just staring, especially watching the girls. There’s a lot of people my age, but some younger too. Like I said, he’s like forty and weird-looking. Strange.”
Adele nodded. “That is strange. And there are others in the camp who’ve had similar experiences?”
Akianne nodded. “Quite a few. We don’t know everyone here, but some of us get together for game nights, or for campfires. It’s a nice place. But he makes it uncomfortable sometimes. He lives behind the cabin, along a supply road. Leads up to an old oil well. I don’t think it works anymore. Some of us used to go that way, but he chases people off. Says it’s his land.”
She snickered, and the boy rolled his eyes.
“What’s funny?” said Adele.
The other girl, who stood behind the water pump, said, “Stinkeye isn’t exactly the sort to own anything. He looks like a hobo. He smells like one too. It’s why he got the name. The owner of the place, Mr. Rosenbaum, doesn’t like him either. When he sees him standing around ogling us, he chases him off. But that’s not always enough to keep him gone. He always seems to find a way back, like a rat.”
This time it was her friend’s turn to look at her, scandalized. She shrugged sheepishly, but didn’t retract the words.
Adele nodded to each of the young campers in turn. “All right—Mr. Rosenbaum—is he at the cabin right now?”
All of them shared a long look, and then, at once, said, “Yes.”
The boy said, “Mr. Rosenbaum is always there. He sometimes rents out tents to some of the people that come through without RVs. Other times he organizes game nights, volleyball, there’s a sandpit on the other side of the campground. Most the time, though, he’s just here to make sure no one skimps on payment.”
Adele nodded again and watched as the two college-age campers hefted their water jugs back in the direction of their campsite. They