Part 5 (1/2)

”I was just about to get to that,” said JT, and he kneeled on the sand and spread out his map. ”If we do North Canyon, you'll see some pretty good geology.”

Mitch.e.l.l pointed out that North Canyon was not a very long hike. ”How about Silver Grotto?”

”What's Silver Grotto?” asked Jill.

Mitch.e.l.l closed his eyes in reverence and shook his head. ”Unbelievably beautiful,” he told Jill. But he didn't elaborate, which made it seem to Jill that he was casting judgment on her, for not knowing.

”Let's see how the day goes,” JT said evenly. He had a name for people like Mitch.e.l.l; they were known among the guides as copilots. Copilots had done their homework before coming down the river, had studied up on canyon history and geology, had pored over maps and guidebooks and knew where all the best hikes were, knew which waterfalls you could climb behind, which ones you could jump off. JT's method of dealing with copilots was to be as nice to them as possible but to let their chatter go in one ear and out the other.

Now he told Mitch.e.l.l, ”I don't know if we'll make it that far. Remember what I said yesterday. Gotta be flexible, gotta play it by ear. Right now we're just going to focus on breaking camp. Take your tents down, get your gear packed, put on your sunscreen, whatever.”

”I have a question,” said Jill.

”Yes, ma'am?”

She placed her hands on her hips. ”Do you guides ever ever get a chance to just enjoy the trip?” get a chance to just enjoy the trip?”

There were appreciative nods and murmurs all around.

”Because you work so hard!” Jill exclaimed.

JT didn't like compliments, and he didn't like being in the spotlight. ”Abo and Dixie did most of the work this morning,” he told them. ”I sat and yakked on the phone. Go on. Pack up your things. Let's run this river.”

Jill had Mark apply sunscreen to her back.

”Bet these river guides get a lot of skin cancer,” he said. He had a slappy, unpleasant way of doing it, and she struggled to keep her balance.

”One of the hazards of the occupation, I guess,” she murmured.

”And I bet they don't have very good health plans, either,” Mark went on. ”If any.”

”Sam,” called Jill. ”Leave the dog's tail alone!” She smelled insect repellent and looked up to see Mitch.e.l.l spraying his arms with Off. According to JT, there weren't mosquitoes down here. What was the man doing?

Mitch.e.l.l finished spraying his hat, then joined Jill and Mark. ”Of all the things!” he said with a chuckle.

Jill politely asked him what he meant.

”A dog! First day out! If you wrote a story about it, n.o.body would believe it. I hate to sound inhumane,” he confided, ”but am I the only one who wouldn't find it totally cruel and unusual to just leave the dog here?”

Jill was taken aback by this.

”I mean, the dog must have some pretty good survival skills,” he went on. ”We could just leave a bunch of food. Somebody else will be camping here tonight. They'll feed it, just like we did. Why should we complicate our trip?”

Jill wondered if she really wanted to tell Mitch.e.l.l, on the second day of the trip, that yes indeed, he did sound inhumane. All things considered, she preferred harmony to confrontation.

”Are you just concerned about Lena's allergies? Because we're outside,” she pointed out. ”There's lots of fresh air here, not like a closed-up room. I can make sure the boys stay away from Lena,” she added.

”You don't have to do that,” Mitch.e.l.l said, although it was clear from his tone that he did in fact see that as a possibility. ”It's just that after forking out six thousand bucks, I don't want to have to leave the river on the second day.”

I forked out twelve thousand, Jill thought, and it wasn't to spend two weeks with someone like you.

Just then JT hollered for everyone to choose a boat. The dog would ride in his boat this morning, he told them. Dixie's boat would be dog-free, for those who wanted. Slowly everyone made their way toward the boats, with the exception of Mark, who hung back.

”Did you bring anything?” he whispered to Jill.

”Like what?”

”Like, you know, bran or prunes or something.”

”No, Mark,” said Jill. ”If you wanted me to bring bran or prunes, you should have told me.”

”I was just asking,” said Mark.

11.

Day Two.

Miles 1620.

High on JT's list of ”Top Ten Ways to Make Friends” was to camp directly above a rapid, so as to start the next day with a good wake-up splash. In keeping with this, no sooner had the three boats pulled off sh.o.r.e that morning than they all found themselves gliding into the tongue of House Rock Rapid, where the current ran green and silky-smooth over submerged boulders before exploding in a ma.s.s of white foam below.

”Good morning campers!” campers!” JT shouted as the first icy wave drenched them. ”Hold on to that dog!” He leaned into his left oar, and they bucked and slapped through messy, white-crested waves that sprayed in all directions. Up front Jill cowered and gripped the dogs bandanna, and Mark yee-hawed like a seasoned river runner, while in the rear Ruth and Lloyd winced and laughed. The waves rose higher, then higher still, and JT simply followed their lead, making those quick adjustments. JT shouted as the first icy wave drenched them. ”Hold on to that dog!” He leaned into his left oar, and they bucked and slapped through messy, white-crested waves that sprayed in all directions. Up front Jill cowered and gripped the dogs bandanna, and Mark yee-hawed like a seasoned river runner, while in the rear Ruth and Lloyd winced and laughed. The waves rose higher, then higher still, and JT simply followed their lead, making those quick adjustments.

But then one of the waves collapsed on him, and he felt his boat slap against the next lateral at the wrong angle, and the boat tipped precariously-just long enough for Jill, in lurching, to lose her grip on the dog. Like a seal, the dog slid over the edge and into the waves.

JT punched on through the last hungry crests, then s.h.i.+pped his oars and scrambled up on his seat. The dog had quickly gotten caught in a small whirlpool; his life jacket being way too big, it swirled like an empty tent on top of the water with only the dog's nose poking up in the middle.

”Swimmer!” JT yelled. ”The dog!”

And Abo, who was having a graceful run right down the center of the rapid, deftly steered his boat toward the whirlpool, just close enough to lean over and grab the life jacket and haul the scrawny animal up out of the water and into the back of his boat.

JT had never witnessed anything quite like it.

Abo guided his boat up alongside JT...s.

”You d.a.m.n dog!” said JT, as Abo hoisted the dog over to him. ”Get in here! Siddown! What's the big idea, getting yourself sucked into a blender first thing!”

”That's what we should call him,” said Sam. ”Hey Blender! Come on, Blender!”

Dixie, whose smooth run through House Rock had gone unwitnessed, glided up beside them. ”See what I mean? This dog has got got to go.” to go.”

”Thank you,” said Mitch.e.l.l. ”At least someone agrees with me.”

”Hey Blender!” shouted Sam. ”Come on, boy!”

”You named named him?” Dixie exclaimed. ”What are you thinking? I'm not kidding, JT. This dog is going to kill the whole trip.” him?” Dixie exclaimed. ”What are you thinking? I'm not kidding, JT. This dog is going to kill the whole trip.”