Part 13 (1/2)
”By golly,” said Mark, ”he can't keep himself out of trouble.”
”He did what any kid would do,” said JT, who hated to see people punished (unless by his own doing) on one of his trips. Still, he didn't like to go against parents' directives, either.
”Mark wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to discipline his kid, though,” Jill remarked. She tilted her head and began violently detangling her hair with her fingers.
JT's skin p.r.i.c.kled; worse than anything was siding with a wife.
Peter came up, followed by Dixie.
”Is this trip jinxed?” she demanded. ”Did we p.i.s.s off Odwalla?”
”Who's Odwalla?” asked Evelyn.
”The river G.o.ddess,” Dixie informed her, as matter-of-factly as a nun. Who made the earth? G.o.d made the earth Who made the earth? G.o.d made the earth. ”Like, what did we do wrong to deserve this?”
Abo looked down, scratched the back of his neck. ”It's just a dog, Dixie.”
”What's that supposed to mean?”
”You act like he's Darth Vader.”
”Well, sorry sorry if I'm not thrilled to have the dog along for the rest of the trip,” said Dixie. ”I told you guys. I told you. n.o.body ever listens to me.” She stalked back to her boat, waded in a few feet, and squatted. if I'm not thrilled to have the dog along for the rest of the trip,” said Dixie. ”I told you guys. I told you. n.o.body ever listens to me.” She stalked back to her boat, waded in a few feet, and squatted.
”Why is Dixie upset?” Jill asked JT.
JT ran his hands through his hair and didn't answer. Because frankly it didn't make a lot of sense to him, what she had against this dog.
Just then, Ruth, dressed head to toe in the beige microfiber that had become her uniform for this trip, came limping across the sand. She knelt on her good leg, and the dog sensed her and came trotting over and sat, panting, so that Ruth could pat him.
”Lloyd,” Ruth called, over her shoulder. ”Look who survived.”
Lloyd was bent over his day bag. ”I'd be fine if I could find my keys,” he replied.
”Come on, guys,” said JT to the group. ”Lets fix lunch.”
But Mitch.e.l.l shook out his map. ”I think,” he began, ”if you can make it up over this ledge, you can connect with Bright Angel.”
JT a.s.sumed Mitch.e.l.l was confused about something, and he didn't want to take the time to understand his confusion. He ignored Mitch.e.l.l and headed for the boats to haul out the lunch supplies.
”Do you want me to go?” Mitch.e.l.l offered, traipsing behind.
”Huh?”
”The dog-someone's going to take him back up to Phantom, right?”
JT stared at the man. A grizzly half-inch stubble had grown in, and his clay-colored s.h.i.+rt hung untucked over his dark swim trunks. JT repositioned his visor. ”Say what?”
”Well, look,” said Mitch.e.l.l, shaking the map out.
JT squinted at Mitch.e.l.l-or rather, at Mitch.e.l.l's large dark sungla.s.ses. ”You can't get to Phantom from here.”
”Sure you can,” said Mitch.e.l.l. ”See,” and he pointed to some dense contour lines on the map.
But JT didn't take his eyes off Mitch.e.l.l's sungla.s.ses. ”Mitch.e.l.l, are you second-guessing me?”
”I'm just consulting a map is all.”
”Well, consult all you want,” said JT. ”There's no way to get to Phantom from here.”
”Then what do you propose to do with the dog?”
”That's easy,” said JT. ”The dog's on for the duration.”
Mitch.e.l.l expelled a little puff of air.
”That's right,” said JT, as though needing to convince himself as well. ”I'm certainly not going to make one of us hike him out at Havasu.”
”What about Hermit?”
JT didn't answer. Theoretically, it would be possible for someone to hike him out at Hermit Creek, but the likelihood of finding a willing hiker now seemed all too remote. Besides, chasing the dog on this last jaunt from Phantom through Pipe Creek had crystallized something in him, and he didn't like to think of it in terms of owners.h.i.+p, but that's what it was when you came right down to it: the now-clear a.s.sumption that the dog was his and would be his, not just now but long after this trip was over. He saw himself putting up a new fence in his backyard, Colin's old sandbox a good place to dig.
”A response would be in order,” said Mitch.e.l.l.
Realizing that they were halfway through their journey and that it was time to level with Mitch.e.l.l, JT drew him aside. For once, he took off his own gla.s.ses, because even though the bright noonday sun burned his retinas, he wanted Mitch.e.l.l to look straight into his eyes.
”What do you have against me, anyway?” Mitch.e.l.l began. ”You've had it in for me from the start. Are you going to spell it out or just keep p.i.s.sing me off?”
”Shut up, Mitch.e.l.l,” said JT.
To his surprise, Mitch.e.l.l fell silent.
”Okay now,” JT said, ”you've got two options, Mitch.e.l.l. One, you can stay with us, or two, you can find another trip for the next seven days. That's pretty simple, don't you think, Mitch.e.l.l? Now I suspect the last thing you want to do at this point is take any advice from me, but I'm your Trip Leader, and that's my job, and so I'm going to advise you to choose option number one and stick with us. And you know why? Because if you don't, you're going to look back on this as the biggest missed opportunity of your life. Because it's not about the dog, Mitch.e.l.l. It's about learning to let go.”
Mitch.e.l.l folded his arms over his broad chest. His forearms were furred with silvery hairs, which glinted in parallel lines, as though combed.
”And if you stay with us, I promise you two things,” JT went on. ”Number one, forget about the allergies. Lena's not going to go into anaphylactic shock, unless she cuddles up with the dog, which I don't think she's inclined to do.”
Mitch.e.l.l spat into the sand.
”Stay with me, Mitch.e.l.l,” JT warned, ”because here comes promise number two: I guarantee you that book you're writing is going to be a h.e.l.l of a lot better with with a dog than a dog than without without. Are you with me here? Think about the opportunities, Mitch.e.l.l. What would John Wesley Powell have done? You think he would have ditched the dog?”
The riddle briefly tempered Mitch.e.l.l's fury.