by E. C. Marsh
Sitting in the back seat of Sam’s van we headed back onto the gravel road and back to the blacktop. It would be a little ways to the starting point of our trip. Marty finally looked awake; well, at least her eyes were open. She mumbled something to Sam and I couldn’t make out his response. Then she turned to me.
“Sorry I was asleep when we started. It was a long day yesterday and I just can’t stand myself when I don’t get enough sleep.” She stretched and yawned. “Would it bother you guys if I fix my nails?” I shrugged and so did Tom. Sam said something, I don’t know what. We were on the blacktop when Marty started putting on nail polish. I couldn’t believe it when the smell first reached me, but then Marty has always amazed me with the inane things she does at the most inappropriate moments. After the first hand she held her hand up and turned to me.
“What do you think of this?”
Well, I am the wrong one to ask about nail polish. I can’t stand it on my nails and therefore have never really gotten into it. But, being the nice person I am, I smiled at her and said: “Looks nice.”
She pulled up her t-shirt, held her hand against her swimsuit and frowned.
“In this light it doesn’t go with my bathing suit.”
I peeked over her shoulder, she wore a pinkish two piece swimsuit and the nail polish was also a shade of pink.
“Looks fine to me,” I said with false conviction. “Does it really matter? The light is going to change and who’s gonna see it anyway?”
Marty just looked at me in disbelief.
“Oh Chris, I don’t know why I bother to ask you. No, no, no! This is all wrong.” And with that she pulled out nail polish remover.
“Sam, dear, could you just slow down a little until I get my nails done? Is that too much to ask?”
Sam looked at her sideways.
“Marty, honey, can’t this wait? We’ll be there in just a little bit.”
“No, it can’t. I don’t want to wait. I can’t stand the look of these bare nails.”
Sam rolled his eyes and pulled over to the side. I glanced at Tom. I couldn’t believe Sam would pull over in the middle of nowhere just so Marty could do her nails. That’s Sam though, forever giving in to Marty, forever making peace. He is such a neat guy, but the term well trained also entered my mind. Ralph and Sandy, not knowing what was going on, pulled alongside and stopped as well. Sandy lowered her window and yelled.
“What’s up?”
“Give me just a sec. Marty needs to fix her nails.”
“Marty needs to do what?”
“She needs to put nail polish on. Can’t do it while we’re driving.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am serious.”
“Tell the bitch to get a life and move it.” Leave it to Sandy to get things moving again.
Sam looked at Marty and said sweetly, “Darling, your nails are fine and they can wait until we are in the canoe or better yet until we are back at home.” He pushed the gear lever into drive and we bounced back onto the road. Marty just glared at him.
“I go on these stupid trips with you, hang out with your friends who don’t like me, and you won’t even do this one simple little thing for me? My appearance matters a great deal to me, Sam. I’ll give in this time, but it’s the last time. Just explain one thing to me, one little thing. Why is it that I have to give in all the time? Can you tell me that? I didn’t want to come on this stupid trip, but I did it for you. It’s always you, what you want. I suppose I’m just not real important.”
Marty mumbled something else, but Sam ignored her. I turned away and looked at Tom. We disagree at times, but I could not recall any outbursts like this over something as trivial as nail polish. I wanted to say, “Get a life, Marty!” But you know how it is. Sometimes it's just better to keep your mouth shut.
We traveled for about twenty minutes on this narrow blacktop, passing through simply beautiful hill country. The tension within the van was thick enough to cut with a dull knife.
Outside, everything was lush and green and overgrown. We zoomed past cornfields and fields green with crops that I could not identify. It was wonderful, and I could have gone on for an eternity. The morning was so fresh and new and everything looked so golden, so full of promises. I took a deep breath, cherishing the fresh morning air and the scent of my husband next to me.
“I kinda grew up around here.” Sam said it to no one in particular. He pointed to the right.
“My Grandma had a little farm over the hill there and when I was a little kid my parents would often let me spend weekends here. Grandma was really a neat lady. She was country all the way, a real old time storyteller, so full of wisdom and always willing to help me explore. I learned a lot from her. When she died and the little farm was sold, man that hurt.” He took a deep breath.
“I didn't really come back down here until after my parents were in that wreck.”
“Have you been down here for deer season?”
Leave it to Tom to get right down to the important stuff. Sam nodded.
“When we started to redo the house my parents left me, I started to come back down here. I wanted to keep it as authentic as possible and there is an old man over in Rawley that does fantastic custom woodwork. He helped me a lot with advice and an occasional helping hand. He also helped me find authentic pieces at sales. And yes I've been down here hunting a time or two.”
Tom punched me in the side and winked at me, it didn't hurt and wasn't meant that way. He was just making a point, making sure that I caught on that he had been right earlier when he thought that Sam had been down here for deer season. I do love my husband, but one of these days I'm going to have to tell him that he does not have to poke me every time he is right about something!
A strong jolt brought me back to reality. We were once again off the blacktop and onto a gravel road, far more rugged then the last one. Sam was shouting at us to hang on, it would be a little rough. No kidding! More than once did I want to scream, “slow down;” I didn't have to. Marty did that for us, without success. Sam just laughed, enjoying himself.
“We should have left your van behind and taken my Blazer.” Tom had to yell to be heard.
“Aw, come on, you don't mind being rattled around a little bit. Are you getting soft from all that desk work?” Sam laughed loud and hearty.
“Soft! My ass! I just don't want to break any bones before we get to that river of yours.”
The two men were shouting happily at each other, obviously looking forward to the trip. I was too, but my female counterpart had slipped on a pair of neon pink headphones and removed herself from the conversation. I was beginning to feel left out. Thank God for the beautiful surroundings!
We bounced around for what seemed like an eternity, my right hand starting to get tired from holding on to the seat for dear life. How on earth did Sam ever find this place? And, better yet, I hope he remembers how to get back out of here. I suddenly missed Allen and my house. Oh well, it's just one night and I'll be home soon enough. After a few more potholes, curves and bumps, we finally rounded a bend and found ourselves overlooking a large grassy meadow. Clear and green, it only needed some black and white cows to belong on a picture postcard. Sam drove on over the grass and toward some trees at the far side. And there, straight ahead of us, we finally had our first glimpse of the river Sam had talked so much about.
“There it is,” Sam smiled at us. “Meet Coon River. Doesn't look like much, but just a little ways downriver it widens nicely. A little creek, Rockhouse Creek, joins what's really Coon Creek and the whole thing becomes officially Coon River.”
Chapter 3
We walked over to the water's edge. I had to give it to Sam. He had done a great job finding this starting point for us. The ground sloped gently into the water, and there was a small, sandy spot which, with a little imagination, one could call a beach. For us it was perfect. We could load the canoes and push off without potentially breaking our backs or legs in the process. The water
was crystal clear. When I stuck my foot in, I was amazed at how warm it felt.
Yes, I thought, this is the way I like it. A broiling hot day and a clear, gravel-bottom river with pee-warm water and just enough current to keep us moving forward but not enough to turn into work.
Sam was still telling us about his river “You know, the Department of Natural Resources did a study last year to determine how clean the state's river water is, and they declared this water potable. After all, it has no industry anywhere nearby, and there is really no pollution. I'm not so sure I want to drink it, but I thought you'd like to know.
“This could be a very interesting trip, guys. A little ways down river is a spot where last year they found a bald eagle nest. Pretty exciting! And a little further downstream, this river borders Camp Crowder and the civilian world. Most people think Crowder is a defunct military base, but they use this place for training and research. The military seems to feel that it is so isolated that the personnel have nothing to do but work. Rumor in the neighborhood has it that they are doing some testing here, top-secret stuff. Well, I doubt we'll see anything from the river, but just in case you see some little green men running around with guns: No, it's not Halloween.
“As we go down the river, watch the banks. This area is so unpopulated that many animals are not afraid of humans. These waters are also home to an assortment of turtles and lots of little fish. You'll see. Watch out for snakes. This is one of the few areas of the state where cottonmouths live and they can be very unhealthy to us humans.”
I looked at Sandy, she had a look in her eyes that would kill any snake at fifty yards. Marty still had her headphones on, oblivious to us. That left me as the only female paying any attention. I looked at Tom. He had sparkles in his eyes and was sporting a big smile. Tom loves this adventure stuff. Me, I'm not so sure. I enjoy the outdoors, but when it gets dark outside I really prefer a nice air-conditioned motel room where I can go to the bathroom and don't have to worry if I am dropping my drawers on some wildlife! Still, I go on these outings and I usually enjoy them. Knowing that we only have to spend one night really does help.
We finished loading the canoes, and the guys took off to stash Ralph's truck at the designated takeout point under some shade trees. While we waited for their return, I reminded everyone to put sunscreen on. I am a firm believer in the stuff. As a nurse, I have seen a couple of patients with skin cancer. It is pretty shocking to see a person your own age and know that they will be dead in a year or two. I believe in sunscreen and I believe in sunglasses to protect the eyes and I believe in hats. Tom usually laughs at me. He thinks he's too macho to put on the “smelly stuff.”
Sandy plopped down beside me, equally ignoring Marty and her neon pink headphones and oversized sunglasses. “Check out little Miss Priss?” She nodded toward Marty. Miss Priss, huh? Nice idea.
“Well, Sandy,” I carefully chose my words “to each her own, you know. I came out here to unwind. It's been one hell of a week and I don't care what Marty's up to.” Sandy hugged me.
“I knew I could count on you, kid,” she said. “Me, I'm fried! Just fried! The fuckin' natives have been restless and we have a couple of new trainees that are idiots! I could just strangle them! But I can't. After all, I am a professional.” She made a face.
“Professionalism my ass! I just wanna fuckin' puke. I'm glad we're out here where I can let my hair hang down, scream, holler, cuss and use all the profanity I want! And one more thing, darlin', if you hear any strange noises from our canoe or our tent, don't worry! I'm just gonna fuck Ralph's brains out and unless you wanna join in, better leave us be!” With that, she leaned back until her head rested against an old piece of wood and closed her eyes.
“You know,” she said kinda low, “this early morning sun against my belly makes me horny! Where the hell are the guys?”
I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. Sandy can be impossible at times and is always unpredictable. The laughter caught Marty's attention. She lowered her headphones.
“What's so funny?”
“Sandy's feeling horny.”
There was a moment of silence, then she said, “Well good for her, just don't expect me to solve that problem.” And on went the headphones. Sandy and I just looked at each other and cracked up again. There's just always such a sense of freedom when we first get started on one of our trips. And then, when we get to the end, it's such a relief to be back in civilization. Back in the world of air conditioning, running water and clean, dry clothes. I had to agree with Sandy that the freedom from everyday responsibilities, combined with the smells and vibrant colors of early morning, was a pretty erotic sensation. I may not express it as bluntly as Sandy does, but I had some plans for the night as well.
Finally the guys were back and we climbed into the canoes and pushed off. It's always such a rush when we first start. Slowly backing away from the shore, Tom always acts as if it's a major undertaking and I must admit I feed into it. I love it when he says, “Easy now, darlin', we have plenty of time.” He says the same thing every time.
Chapter 4
Once out on the water, I can't help but relax; and this time was no different. The water was crystal clear. I could see all the way to the bottom and marveled at the abundance of colorful little fish zooming back and forth. There is something rather seductive about the paddle strokes and we soon found our rhythm.
From the water, the shoreline looked as if it belonged to another time. I could easily imagine being an early settler, going down to the river to fetch water. The thought of doing laundry at the river's edge briefly entered my mind, but only briefly. There is just no way I'll give up my washing machine or dryer!
Once we passed the spot where Rockhouse Creek joined Coon Creek, the current picked up some and I carefully turned around, opened the big orange cooler and got a soda out. Ahh, the cool bubbly liquid tickled my throat. And with a deep I sigh I leaned back against the cooler. The front of the canoe was wide enough to sit comfortably. Our big camping cooler fit nicely right behind the front seat and that allowed me to hang my legs over the sides and lean back. I like that! The sun felt hot on my skin. I closed my eyes and focused on inhaling deeply, the scents of nature and sound of the bugs and birds became almost overwhelming.
“Hey babe,” I called out, “this is what I needed, a total get away. And you!” Up ahead I could see Sam and Marty, she had put on a wide-brimmed, yellow hat and for a moment I was delighted that she seemed to have listened to my skin cancer speeches. She even had oversized sunglasses on, but I couldn't help but wonder why she even bothered to go on these trips with the rest of us, when she so effectively shut us out. And I wondered what Sam's life with her would have to be like. Did she wear those damned headphones when they made love?
I couldn't turn around to look for Ralph and Sandy. The last time I tried something like that I almost flipped the canoe, and Tom didn't let me forget it for a long, long time.
I really didn't have to turn around. I could hear Sandy. I couldn't understand what she was saying, but I could hear her all right. You see, Sandy gets loud when she relaxes. One time when we were floating, she convinced Ralph to let her sit in an inner tube and be towed behind the canoe. All went well, until the rope came loose just as we went into some shoals. Sandy, with her butt stuck in the inner tube, got dragged across some gravel. She wasn't hurt, but her bathing suit had some holes it didn't need, and we never heard the end of it. Needless to say, Sandy doesn't stick her rear end into inner tubes anymore.
I didn't know what today's commotion was all about and I really didn't care. I was relaxing, my feet in the warm water, sipping a cold soda and working on a little suntan. Yes, life was good. Somewhere along the way I must have dozed off, the gentle rocking on a hot day does this to me.
When I looked up again, we were just coming around a bend in the river and directly ahead were some cattle, big black and white Holsteins up to their bellies in the water. Tom said something about some lukewarm milkshak
es up ahead. Yes, life really was good.
The scenery had changed around us, and no longer were there just trees. On the left side were steep, cream-colored bluffs studded with little cedar trees growing in impossible places.
Tom splashed some water on me to get my attention. “ Look,” he said pointing up the bluff, “see the little dark areas? Those are cave entrances. Wanna play cave man?” At the base of the cliffs sat chunks of limestone that had broken off. I laughed at Tom's proposition. “I don't think so, I'd rather be the cave woman. You know, be in a cave with you and ravage your body.” I winked at him. In response Tom aimed the canoe straight for the bluff, paddling furiously, almost ramming one of the big chunks of limestone. Fortunately, he regained his senses - just barely in time.
On the right we were still looking at trees, but through the trees we could see fields. And there were pastures and more big black and white cows. I enjoyed watching the little turtles sitting on the dead logs. They were sunning themselves, at least until we came by. Then they would plop-plop-plop hop into the water and watch us with just their little heads showing. A couple of times we were buzzed by big colorful dragonflies. I don't like them up close. I always imagine what it would feel like to be stung by one of them. Tom laughs about it and keeps telling me that they won't sting, but I don't like them. As we rounded another bend, we saw Sam up ahead on the left bank, holding on to some bushes.
