"Sons of bitches, you come over here," Sam yelled, "Yous too near the edge."
Leigh obeyed, and they embraced, enchanted with the rock and mountains, sun highlighting patches with gold, and shadows enhancing the three dimensions.
Walking back at the campsite, they passed the camp host and Sam, observant as usual, saw the Texas license plate and called, "Hi, where y'all from in Texas?" Immediately the camaraderie was switched on while Leigh stood by silent, thinking of an earlier visit to grand places.
"Used to fish at Galveston."
"Yeah, all along the coast."
"Any good fishing round here?"
"Oh, sure, there's a good lake up the road, just go north over the crossroads and up the road and y'all find Pine Lake. Rainbows and browns there, easy. Great place, nobody up there and y'all see plenty a deer and elk. Get the paste bait at Ruby's"
"What's the limit?"
"Four of each."
They planned on Pine Lake next day as they ate barbecued steak. The meat was too tough for Sam, but Leigh liked a good chew. Halfway through the meal Sam coughed violently and Leigh rushed to pat her on the back.
"Is OK, got caught on my hangy down guy." Sam said, pausing to rest. "You just woofing it down aren't cha?"
Unlike Leigh, she needed desert to follow - sticky coffee cake, chocolate-coated graham crackers, Hershey's chocolate kisses filled with peanut butter, or shocking-pink and lime-green cup cakes.
Suddenly Yoyo their kitten began climbing on the screen door and hung to the wire.
"Bub, she is having trouble disengaging her claws," Leigh called.
"Disengaging," Sam shrieked, "Disengaging!" "You little encyclonic, what's wrong with `getting her claws out?'"
"Disengage," Leigh said again laughing, and kissed her forehead.
"Oh Babe, you want to make a grapht out of it? A spreadsheet? You always with pearls of wisdom on your oyster tongue."
They
held each other as they laughed, and Leigh gave up on her magazine,
no longer caring about Quadafi or Rumsfeld or Handel's biography.
And the laughter was a carefree comfort that quickly turned to a passionate
embrace.
The next day they explored the rocky scenes in earnest. Leigh's avocation was, as always, for the sights and sounds of nature. She was strong and ready for a few miles at least, but Sam had always chosen golf and tennis, boats and fishing, sports cars and bowling, and though she looked sturdy she cared little for long walks.
"Such pain in my laygs. My knees are killing me."
Later, in bed early, Leigh started her new book.
"What's that book then?" Asked Sam
"It's a book of essays, mostly about the Grand Canyon - nature stuff and travel sort of thing," she replied.
"Well read some to me, I'm tired and that'll put me to sleep."
Leigh looked for some passage that could be read out of context and still have some meaning. She began in the middle of "Gone Back to Earth" by Barry Lopez:
We
re-board three large rubber rafts, and enter the Colorado's quick,
high flow. The river has not been this high or fast since Glen Canyon
dam. Jumping out ahead of us, with its single oarsman and three passengers,
is our fourth craft.
Interrupted by loud laughter, she looked at Sam rolling in the bed with her legs kicking. "Craaaft, raaaft, you so fancy smancy, so eengleeshy, so very queenie."
And the laughter was unstoppable, irrepressible, contagious, as silly things will often be when two people are close, so ready to enjoy humor based on nonsense.
"Always you tease me," Leigh gasped.
"Yes, I a-teasa you, I teasa you, you little contigenera. I teasa you, you doctor doctor." And she grabbed Leigh into her arms. Whether it was the reading, the exhaustion of so much laughing, or just simple weariness, she fell quickly asleep in Leigh's arms, allowing her to finish the essay and ponder Lopez' final thoughts in relation to the splendid scenes they had witnessed in recent days.
The
living of any life, my life, involves great and private pain, much of
which we share with no one. In such places as the Inner Gorge, the pain
trails away from us. It is not so quiet there, or so removed, that you
can hear yourself think, that you would even want to; that comes later.
You can hear your heart beat. That comes first.
Pine Lake was surrounded by alpine meadows with high mountains beyond, and as they walked along, Sam looked for fish as Bailey swam after sticks, one of which landed by Sam.
"Hey," she shouted turning to see Leigh laughing, "You scared the shit outa me."
"Bub, you are my bublet."
Then it was Sam who was quiet, concentrating as she was on lures and movement. In an hour she had four rainbow trout, and they headed home.
"I'm freezing, time to put on long pants."
"Well you have to cook the fish Bub." Leigh knew that any recipe she had would be too foo foo, and knew that she would be happy to have fresh fish Texas-style.
"Ah, I'm burnin up. And look Oh my thumb so sore where that fishhook went in. Toxins vacillated into my cubicles."
As
they were leaving Bryce Sam went into excited mode: "Look at them
Dutch look midgets look at that girl's shorts tucked into her fat
butt crack need tweezers to pull them out look old fuckers look at that
Mexican there's a raven look bunny there's a Texas license plate
look they got a Jesus thing by their motor home." Leigh couldn't
keep up with her long litany of rapid observations, but she laughed
as she looked at Sam's face full of fun, vision rushing ahead of her
thoughts.
The road meandered northeast along byways of red cliff and boulders, white rock canyons dotted with the dark green of pines, to Torrey, and Capitol Reef National Park. The motor home struggled up hills, and at the high pass over Boulder Mountain they stopped to walk among aspens, dressed in new greens quivering among the white, black-lined trunks.
"Get me some chocolate," Sam commanded.
"You are incorrigible."
"Yes I always incognito. I need chocolate."
They laughed and Leigh left her habitual passenger seat for the kitchen and selected four Hershey's nuggets. She unwrapped them and handed each to Sam who smiled, "We might could go fishing somewhere tomorrow."