In The Heart Of The Canyon Part 4

"You better call Park Service," said Dixie.

"You think this qualifies as an emergency?" JT said.

"You don't?"

"And what's Park Service going to do?" JT went on. "Stop everything and send down a boat? Then what? Hike him out? With an injured paw?"

"I hate to say this, Boss, but he doesn't look so injured anymore," said Abo, and they all looked back at the beach, where the dog was chasing sticks as quickly as Sam and Matthew could throw them. Every time the dog changed direction, he sent up a spray of sand. JT suspected that as far as the boys were concerned, this was completely normal-why, every time you went down the Colorado River you picked up a stray dog on the first night.

He checked his watch; it was almost seven, and they hadn't even started dinner. "Let's get people fed. We'll deal with the dog later. I sure am not going to worry about it right now."

"What's the menu?" Dixie asked.

"Salmon."

"Oh my G.o.d, I LOVE salmon!" Abo shouted.

"Good. Because you're cooking it."

"And I love COOKING salmon too!"

"Tone it down, Abo," said Dixie, "or I am not going to survive two weeks on the river with you."

Abo narrowed his eyes. "Sleep with me tonight, babe."

"Been there, done that," Dixie murmured.

JT tossed his empty beer can onto a tarp near the kitchen area. "Abo, start the grill. Dixie, teach those boys how to bust up the cans." He opened the meat cooler, which was three-quarters solid ice and one-quarter frozen protein. He took out the slabs of salmon, then closed the cooler and looked up to see Mitch.e.l.l standing at the bow.

"Need something, Mitch.e.l.l?"

"Just wondering if you knew what you were going to do with the dog yet."

"Nope."

Mitch.e.l.l set his hands on his hips-not belligerently. "Because some of us are concerned about trouble," he began. "Lena's got allergies. And if the dogs been exposed to rabies or something ..."

"Well take care of it, Mitch.e.l.l," JT a.s.sured him.

"I've been waiting years for this trip," Mitch.e.l.l said.

"I read you, Mitch.e.l.l," said JT, feeling a certain level of professional tolerance dropping. "But don't worry. The dog's not going to spoil things."

"We've got some gin, by the way, if you fellas want a gin and tonic," Mitch.e.l.l offered.

"Thanks," said JT. "A rain check, maybe. Gotta get dinner going right now."

And within a mere half hour, they did in fact have a splendid dinner ready. n.o.body forgot about the Fourth of July, either: using two oars, twine, and some fancy knot-tying skills, Abo strung up red, white, and blue balloons over the serving table, and for dessert there was a cake decorated like an American flag, which Dixie presented complete with a sparkler, to great applause. The dog, who two hours ago had seemed so seriously crippled, now darted between people's legs in search of dropped morsels; he soon learned that all he had to do was follow Lloyd, who had a tendency to set his plate down and wander off in search of something else.

"That's three plates of salmon you've taken now!" Ruth scolded him. "Now stay put!"

Although they had known each other just over twenty-four hours, as a group they were already forming tentative bonds. Amy, who had brought a deck of cards, mystified Sam and Matthew with card tricks. Mark and Mitch.e.l.l found they had skied at the same resort in Canada as boys. Lena convinced Jill that navigating the menu of a digital camera was not as difficult as Jill feared.

Only JT sat by himself, alone on his raft, listening to the sound of water slos.h.i.+ng against his boat. It was dusk, and the color had drained out of the cliffs, leaving them starkly silhouetted against an apricot sky. He did not intend to let the matter of the dog spoil the evening for him; he had faith that it would work out, one way or another. Very few things could rattle JT, which was why he was such a good river guide: he handled the unforeseen with grace, and usually managed to learn something from it and come out ahead.

He looked at the group; people were sitting on mats, logs, or the sand itself, finis.h.i.+ng dessert. It seemed to be a good bunch, for the most part. Mitch.e.l.l had the potential to be a pain, he knew, and Amy's weight troubled him; he'd never had such an overweight person on a trip before. He'd have to think about balancing the boats and scheduling hikes with lots of turnaround options. But so what if she didn't hike as much as the others? The canyon belonged to everyone, regardless of physical limitations. She would still have a good time. And who knew what she might learn about herself?

This was, in fact, what he enjoyed about these trips: watching people discover new sides of themselves on the river. The fearful took risks; the quiet ones opened up; sometimes (though not always), the loud ones quieted down. Egos got checked, life plans altered. You saw a lot of Plan Bs develop on a river trip.

"Last call on dessert!" shouted Abo.

By now the light of a quarter moon was sliding down the western wall. There were dishes to wash, pots to scrub, food to be packed away. Then, a good night's sleep. They would figure out the dog issue tomorrow.

Overall, if you'd asked him to a.s.sign a letter grade to the first day, he'd have given it a good solid A.

Fine. A-minus, given the dog.

July 4

Please oh please oh please get me off this trip. I cannot take two weeks of this. Everybody stares at me and I know EXACTLY what they're thinking. What's a FAT GIRL doing on a trip like this? Why isn't she at FAT CAMP? Wonder where she gets those FAT CLUB T-s.h.i.+rts? Quick get in line before the FAT GIRL takes all the dessert!!!

I wonder how sick you have to be for them to call a helicopter. Maybe I could get bitten by a rattlesnake. Then again, maybe not; maybe rattlesnakes don't like FAT GIRLS.

Fine. It's kind of pretty here. But it's unbelievably hot and I have no energy whatsoever. I hope these guides don't expect me to do any work because I can barely move. Mom made me help her put up the tent tonight and I felt like I was on percocet. Oh and by the way, when we were done I went inside to change and guess who takes up the entire tent. Sucks for her but she's the one who wanted to do this trip and if she only has three inches of s.p.a.ce to sleep in, she should have thought of that earlier.

Maybe some night I will just float off down the river when everyone else is asleep and never be seen again, the lost whale.

We found a dog tonight. Some people are freaking out but I don't see what the big deal is. I fed him a lot of salmon so he will like me. Maybe I can make him FAT and then I will have something in common with someone else.

DAY TWO.

River Miles 1630

House Rock to Fence Fault

10.

Day Two.

Mile 16.

JT was leery of naming the dog, but people are driven to name things-especially on a river trip, where you have a lot of time to contemplate things you normally wouldn't. And so the next morning, as Abo and Dixie were cooking breakfast, people stood around proposing names for the dog. Evelyn suggested Glen, after Glen Canyon. Peter came up with La.s.sie, as a joke. Sam for some reason got stuck on the name Roger. Matthew, already well aware that Sam was getting more attention than he on this trip, countered with the name Groover. Mitch.e.l.l, who, like JT, knew the danger of naming any animal, remained silent. was leery of naming the dog, but people are driven to name things-especially on a river trip, where you have a lot of time to contemplate things you normally wouldn't. And so the next morning, as Abo and Dixie were cooking breakfast, people stood around proposing names for the dog. Evelyn suggested Glen, after Glen Canyon. Peter came up with La.s.sie, as a joke. Sam for some reason got stuck on the name Roger. Matthew, already well aware that Sam was getting more attention than he on this trip, countered with the name Groover. Mitch.e.l.l, who, like JT, knew the danger of naming any animal, remained silent.

But since n.o.body could agree, for now they simply called him River Dog, which seemed appropriate given his tendency to dash into the water after anything they could throw. Not everyone was enthusiastic about playing with the dog, though; and, it being their first morning on the river, many of them simply milled about, not quite sure what to do with themselves before breakfast was ready-whether to brush teeth and wash, or skip the hygiene and go straight for the coffee. Jill, for the first time since the boys were toddlers, did not insist that anyone do anything; she ladled out a cup of coffee and stood quietly on the beach, taking in the reflections of cliff and sky on the moving surface of the water. She felt an unfamiliar serenity as she stood there, a realignment of nerves that allowed each breath to resonate out through the tips of her fingers. She felt like a lot of things that mattered two days ago no longer mattered. Fleetingly, she wished that she were on this trip without her family.

JT sat on his raft, also drinking coffee. It was six thirty; he figured he would wait until seven to call Park Service and see if they had any boats coming by today that could perhaps take the dog down to Phantom Ranch, where somebody might be able to hike him out. Meanwhile, he opened up his map and planned out the day. Just ahead was House Rock Rapid, rated seven, sure to wake everybody up. Then there was a flat stretch of water, followed by the Roaring Twenties, a five-mile series of nonstop rapids. Tonight, depending on how much time they made, they could camp down around s.h.i.+numo Wash or Fence Fault.

As JT was folding up the map, Mitch.e.l.l strolled over, mug in hand. JT wanted to get off to a good start with the man this morning, so he called out, "Morning, Mitch.e.l.l! Sleep okay?"

"Slept great," said Mitch.e.l.l. "So! How far do you think well go today?"

"Don't know," said JT cheerfully. "Maybe ten miles, maybe fifteen."

"Think we can go up to Silver Grotto?"

"Well see," said JT. "No vetoes, no promises."

Mitch.e.l.l nodded. He sipped his coffee.

"I was wondering," he said after a moment, "if you decided what to do about the dog."

JT checked his watch. "Just about to call Park Service, Mitch.e.l.l," he said. He reached down into the well of his boat and unstrapped the yellow plastic case with the satellite phone.

"Just worried about my wife," said Mitch.e.l.l. "Her asthma, you know."

"We're aware of that, Mitch.e.l.l." JT unsnapped the plastic fasteners and opened up the box. Inside, cradled in a bed of foam, lay the satellite phone, a brick-sized device with a stubby antenna that swiveled up like an action figure. He hated, absolutely hated hated, using the satellite phone-on the second day, no less!-but he really had no choice here. At the very least, he felt he had to report the dog.

As he punched in the numbers for Park Service, Mitch.e.l.l gazed serenely downriver and sipped his coffee.

"I guess you'd say we're not exactly dog people," Mitch.e.l.l said to no one in particular. JT expected the ranger to be more upset about the dog, but in fact he sounded mildly exasperated when JT asked him what he wanted them to do.

"You deal with it!" he exclaimed. "I've got three hikers who refused to listen when I told them how much water they need in this heat, and two of them collapsed halfway down to Phantom!"

The line went dead, and JT found himself staring stupidly at the phone before replacing it in its box. He hadn't eaten breakfast, so he went to the food table and loaded up a plate.

"What'd the ranger say?" Dixie asked.

"He said figure it out."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Keep the dog," said JT. "Find him a life jacket."

"We're taking him with us?"

JT drenched his French toast in syrup. "You want to hike him out yourself? Scratch that. You can't; we need you."

"Can't they send someone down to pick him up?"

"Organize a whole trip to come pick up a dog? I don't think so," said JT.

"Then we should stop one of the motor rigs and get them to take the dog down to Phantom. There's gotta be a hiker who'll hike him out. There's no way we can spend five days with a dog, JT. He'll get into the meat cooler. He'll chew everything."

"We'll watch him," said Abo. "Chill."

"You chill," said Dixie.

JT scratched his chin.

"Fine," said Dixie. "But for the record, he's not riding in my boat."

Abo shot her a wounded look and reached out and caught the dog by the scruff of its neck. "Such a meanie," he crooned. "What's your name, anyway? What do they call you?"

JT set his plate on the sand, and as the dog licked the remains, JT knotted a red bandanna around the dog's neck. "You know what they say," he said.

"What?"

But JT didn't answer. Dog or no dog, he still had a trip to run. Time to clean up. Time to break camp. Time to load up the boats, and make room for the dog. If there was anything JT liked, it was a first, and this was definitely his first trip with a dog.

You name it, you love it, was what he was going to say to Abo, but JT didn't dare articulate the truism, even to himself.

Shortly after breakfast, JT summoned the group for their first morning meeting and told them that for now they were keeping the dog.

Sam and Matthew whooped and roughed him up.

"Until we can figure something else out," JT continued. "Its not exactly what we expected, but hey, this is the river, gotta be flexible, right?"

Mitch.e.l.l and Lena turned away and conferred with one another. Mark looked at Jill and shrugged; Evelyn glanced from one face to another, as though not ready to commit to an opinion.

Mitch.e.l.l rejoined the group and asked what hikes JT was planning for the day.