Part 21 (2/2)
Day Nine Mile 150 It was a tense dinner that night. Mitch.e.l.l went off and ate by himself; Lena, having received a testy rebuke when she tried to follow him, stayed with the group for once and got a stern lecture from both Jill and Susan that she really didn't need to take Mitch.e.l.ls bullying for the next thirty years.
”I wouldn't call him a bully,” said Lena.
”Somewhat overbearing?” prompted Evelyn, and Lena didn't correct her, and Evelyn felt good, for being definitive. Their site was narrow and hugged the cliff, and they all sat together in a long line, looking down upon the river, gla.s.sy and dark. Evelyn scooched closer to Jill.
”Mitch.e.l.l has a hard time with groups,” said Lena.
”You don't need to make excuses,” said Susan.
”And he's wanted to do this stretch of the trip for so long,” Lena went on. ”The city council wants him to give a slide show at the library, after he's finished Powell's journey. And he knows someone who used to work for National Geographic National Geographic too. He might do a story for them. That's a long shot,” she added. too. He might do a story for them. That's a long shot,” she added.
Far below, a lone kayaker glided silently down the center of the river. They waved. She waved back.
”Still,” said Jill. ”A little common courtesy goes a long way.”
”I would never argue with that,” said Lena. ”But you people don't know Mitch.e.l.l the way I do. You've known him for eight days. I've known him for thirty years.
”He can act like a boor,” she said, ”but he's not a boor at heart.”
Peter for his part could deal with the fact that he wasn't going to get any b.l.o.w. .j.o.bs on this trip, but he didn't think he had it in him to tolerate four more days of Mitch.e.l.l.
He dished himself a plate of food and walked over to join Amy and didn't even offer a lead-in sentence. ”I'm thinking in the middle of the night,” he said, sawing at his steak. ”We stuff a sock in his mouth. We tie his hands. We drag him down to the river and give him the old midnight heave-ho.”
”Better if we could make it look like he fell,” said Amy.
”Because it's me or him,” Peter went on. ”One of us has got to go.”
”I'll bet my mother will help,” said Amy. ”She's strong.”
”I don't care if I even have to go to jail,” said Peter. ”I am so sick of this guy making himself the center of attention. What, you're not eating?”
”Not hungry,” said Amy.
”This isn't the time to try and lose weight.”
”Thank you, Dr. Atkins.” She reached over and took the piece of meat he'd just cut. ”Happy now?”
”Maybe we should put some of this steak in his sleeping bag,” said Peter. ”Let the dog do the rest of the work.”
”Find a scorpion and put it in his hat,” Amy suggested.
”Or hot sauce in his coffee.”
They watched Mitch.e.l.l take a picture of Dixie bending over one of the kitchen boxes, in an unflattering pose. ”I swear, if that guy takes one more picture of me,” said Peter.
Amy sat up.
”What?”
”Oh, my, G.o.d,” said Amy.
”Tell me!”
”This is so perfect.”
”What's so perfect?”
”I have the the best idea.” And she proceeded, then, to tell him about the idea that had just popped into her head. Peter thought at first it was too simplistic, that it wouldn't be mean enough and n.o.body would pick up on the nuances; but as she gave him one example after another, he marveled at the girls ingenuity. Ten days ago he'd a.s.sumed she was merely somebody to tolerate. Now he was filled with admiration. best idea.” And she proceeded, then, to tell him about the idea that had just popped into her head. Peter thought at first it was too simplistic, that it wouldn't be mean enough and n.o.body would pick up on the nuances; but as she gave him one example after another, he marveled at the girls ingenuity. Ten days ago he'd a.s.sumed she was merely somebody to tolerate. Now he was filled with admiration.
”You can be really mean when you want,” he told her.
”I'm in high school,” she reminded him.
July 12 Day Nine
So today Mitch.e.l.l cut his head on a rock and was a total a.s.shole and snapped at everyone, including Ruth. Peter and I were having dinner afterward and figuring out ways to kill Mitch.e.l.l, and I had this idea. It just came to me in a flash. OMG. We are SO going to get him back.
Here's the plan:
So Mitch.e.l.l's been taking pictures of everyone and everything the whole trip. Sam with the red ant. Mark and Jill fighting. JT bandaging Ruth's leg. Evelyn in her sports bra, (Okay, she shouldn't be wearing a sports bra, but it's the RIVER and EVEN I CAN WEAR A SPORTS BRA DOWN HERE IF I WANT, JUST DON'T TAKE A PICTURE OF ME IN IT!!!!)
Anyway, Peter and I are going to take pictures of Mitch.e.l.l! They'll be totally innocent pictures, but they'll remind us of what an a.s.shole he's been. A picture of him taking pictures, for starters. I definitely want to get one of him without his s.h.i.+rt on, if I don't puke in the process. Oh, and talking to Lena, so we can all remember how not not to be treated by our husband someday to be treated by our husband someday.
Then we make an alb.u.m and post it online.
Am I not the biggest b.i.t.c.h in the universe?
DAY TEN.
River Miles 150168 Upset to Fern Glen
35.
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