Part 32 (1/2)

'Exactly. So when you see him Oop! Here he is now.' Joel raises his arm to greet my disheveled friend. 'Elliot! Good morning!'

'Morning,' he mumbles, shuffling over like one of the living dead.

'Sleep well?' Joel chirrups.

'Not really,' Elliot croaks. 'I woke up looking like Benicio Del Toro!' He tries to joke away the bags under his eyes. 'You?'

I look at Joel to see how he's going to answer. Joel looks at me. A wicked smile spreads across his face.

'Not that it's any of my business,' Elliot back-pedals, looking mortified.

I bite my lip and stare at the floor, knowing I can't be trusted to maintain the mystique if I speak.

'Er, Lara, I don't know what your plans are for today ...'

Elliot's talking to me like he doesn't know me, this is so bizarre.

'But I'm doing a bear talk in an hour and I wondered if you wanted to come along?' Judging by his anxious tone of voice, he needs the moral support.

'Of course! I'd love to!' I possibly over-enthuse. 'That's if ...' I look to Joel for approval. Am I allowed out by myself?

'You go ahead. I've got a climb planned. Either way, I think our first stop had better be a clothing store,' Joel decides as I trip up yet again on his trackie bottom legs trailing over my feet.

'There's a good one just up here at Yosemite Village.'

Elliot guides us, walking a few paces ahead, thras.h.i.+ng at the undergrowth with a stick. Joel gives me a knowing look but I'm not convinced is this the behavior of a jealous man or a friend merely peeved that they're not getting the attention they're used to? Of course, it's also possible Elliot is just grouchy from lack of sleep. He was in a tent, after all. I look up at the sunlight glinting through the leaves and decide I'm not going to let second-guessing games ruin my mood: even though I'm picking my way along the dirt track in slippers I have a spring to my step that I haven't experienced in a while. Being engulfed in greenery feels so new and exciting. I wasn't expecting to experience such a lift. Could there be a Grizzly Richards in me, trying to get out? If I stayed here long enough would I grow a beard? There is that concern.

Once inside the clothes shop the boys turn into fas.h.i.+on stylists, a.s.sessing my physique and coloring and trying to decide what will suit me best.

'How do you feel about forgoing traditional hiking colors?' Joel queries.

'Sorry?'

'Only I think you'd look good in this heather t-s.h.i.+rt,' he suggests, holding the soft purple up to my face.

Elliot nods his approval and then thrusts a pair of trousers at me. 'Look, these are great you can unzip them at the knee and make shorts!'

'How fabulously versatile!' I coo. 'Maybe I'll be really daring and just wear the knee-to-ankle bit!'

Neither of them laugh they're concentrating far too hard on completing the outfit.

'What about getting some proper hiking boots?' Joel suggests.

Elliot's not convinced. 'I think that's maybe going too far.'

There's not much else here she should at least try a pair.'

'She'll never wear them again.'

'h.e.l.lo?' I remind the chaps that I am over four and able to make up my own mind.

'Can I git yer somethin'?' the gruff lady shop a.s.sistant doesn't seem to like the way I'm handling her Timberlands.

'Do you have these in a UK size 5? I think that's about 7 US.

As she rifles through the boxes I sit on the bench and roll up the tracksuit bottoms, unsheathing my sparkling scarlet toenails. She finds my size but there's a moment of hesitation before she hands them to me as if she has doubts about the boots going to an appropriate home.

'Hope you don't mind me saying,' she grunts, 'but yer real feminine!'

Elliot snickers into the rack of hats. I don't blame him. I've never been called that before. Especially not as an insult.

The boots are even heavier than they look. 'They'd snap my ankle in a second, wouldn't they?' I try to win her over by seeking her advice.

'Why dontcha try these,' she says offering me some strappy-Velcro open-toe numbers. They got st.u.r.dy soles and y'can always wear socks if yer git cold.'

'Sold!' I say, eager to be on my way.

On our way out we find ourselves in the camping accessories department. Elliot and I are admiring a mosquito net slash hat combo that gives you that essential beekeeper look, and an ingenious solar-heated camp shower, when Joel sneaks up behind me and presses something into my hand: 'Here present for you!'

I rustle open the brown paper bag and pull out a s.h.i.+ny silver package with a Mountain House logo.

'Is it coffee? Oh no freeze-dried blueberry cheese-cake!' I hoot as I read the label.

'Just in case you get stuck in the snow again with no food!'

'That's brilliant, thanks!' I give Joel a kiss on the cheek. 'Is it powder or something?' I ask squeezing the foil between my fingers.

'Why don't you try it?'

'Oh no! I'm going to save it for a real emergency.'

'I wasn't sure which flavor you'd like they also do seafood chowder and scrambled egg with real bacon!'

'No way!'

'Wait there!' Joel darts off again.

Elliot looks wistful. 'I should have done that. The old me would have done that.'

'What do you mean?' I ask, concerned by his tone.

'Remember the time I bought you that King & I plate?'

I smile. 'Of course!'

It was part of a set commemorating Rodgers & Hammerstein's contribution to musical theatre. Elliot paid $10 at a flea market but it was the fact that he'd remembered my favorite duet that really made it invaluable. We Kiss In A Shadow was the t.i.tle.

The fretful look remains on Elliot's face. 'Lara, do you think I've changed?'

'How do you mean?' I need specifics before I blunder in and let him know that I think Elise is sucking the fun out of him.