by Will Hobbs
Troy held his arms out wide, palms up, and gave us his trademark winning smile. His bluer-than-blue eyes made the rounds, asking … for what? When they came to mine, there was a moment of complicated, hypercharged emotion that ran between us like a fiber-optic cable carrying a thousand messages at once. It was the worst kind of electricity.
“Hi, Rita,” Troy said warmly. “Hi, Star; hi, Big Fella.” And then, a little delayed, his eyes returned to mine. “Hi, Jessie.”
His voice sounded gentle, maybe even endearing, but I knew he must hate me. I’d left him on the shore—we’d all left him. This was going to complicate everything, maybe unbearably. How could Al have invited him?
Troy had a tiny diamond stud in his left earlobe. It was so Troy-like, it made me wonder if he’d had it before, but I realized it was new.
Nobody spoke, and then Troy said lightly, with his familiar, laid-back delivery, “You all look a little different.”
I was wondering if that was true of me. Hair still shoulder-length, still brown. Eyes still brown. Same height, same weight. Maybe I was stronger, that’s all. “You’re looking good, everybody,” he continued, a little off-balance.
Everybody was staring at him. He was still Troy, still a heavy, that much was obvious.
Troy grinned, kept trying. “Rita, I like your hair.”
Rita groaned, and turned to the rest of us. “Pinch me. I must be trapped in some kind of ‘alternate reality.’ ”
Troy acted like Rita was a mosquito whose buzzing was barely noticeable. “Star, I’m glad to see you’re still wearing that lucky crystal around your neck. All you guys look great … I really mean it. I’m happy to be here. Look where we are.”
No one moved.
“I’m hungry,” Pug declared as he reached to kick a small rock across the asphalt. “Where are those guys?”
I realized Pug was just as baffled and deflated as the rest of us.
“Let’s drive up to the café at the trading post,” Troy said to him and all of us. “That’s the only place to eat around here, anyway. Al will look for us there.”
“Talked me into it,” Pug said, heading toward Troy’s Land Rover.
At Marble Canyon Trading Post we entered through a combination gift shop, grocery, and river supply, where Pug paused to stare at enormous trout mounted on the walls. We passed into a large, pine-paneled dining room surrounded by photographs of all manner of river mayhem. I walked up to one picture that was poster-sized, a close-up of one of those giant motor rafts in a rapid of monstrous proportions. It was in the act of flipping.
Star was at my side, eyes wide as mine. The photo caught fifteen or twenty people going airborne into churning red water as the pontoon raft was standing on one side and starting to go over.
“Way to the ugly,” jested a voice over my shoulder. It was Troy, casual as ever.
“What rapid is that?” I asked the waitress passing by.
“Lava Falls. That’s a thirty-seven-foot motor rig you’re looking at, in Lava Falls.”
“Oh,” I said to Star. “No wonder we didn’t recognize it. We never got to Lava.”
Rita had joined us, and heard the name of the rapid. She crunched up her face and gave the picture its due. Then she laughed, a sort of “Heh-heh-heh,” and said, “We’ll kick its butt.”
“Now that I’m sick to my stomach,” I said, “let’s eat.”
Most of us ordered burgers and fries. Pug asked for the biggest steak on the menu. “Cooked very rare,” he specified, and everybody laughed, including the waitress. It arrived so bloody, Rita remarked that it had probably been alive a few minutes earlier behind the trading post. Star, seated next to Pug and seeming tinier than she really was, kept her eyes fixed on her dinner salad. Star had recently become a vegetarian.
Everyone kept an eye on the pass-through from the gift shop, expecting Al and Adam to show up. Everyone except for Troy, who seemed more intent on catching my gaze and having some kind of nonverbal heart-to-heart. What was it he wanted to say?
We kept waiting, ordered dessert and coffee, waited some more. I was getting nervous overhearing bits of conversation from some people three tables away who kept talking about “the high water.” I caught the names of some of the rapids—Hance, Crystal, Lava, and more.
The names of the rapids were spoken with awe, and with nervousness that sounded much stronger than an undercurrent. Dread, that’s what it sounded like to me. The sick-to-my-stomach sensation of being about to run one of those Big Drops returned all too vividly to mind, and I set aside my apple pie à la mode after only a few bites. At least we were going to be under the protection of Discovery Unlimited. Hang on and enjoy the ride!
Seven o’clock rolled around. Suddenly Rita said, “I got it!” Her dark eyes were big and her eyebrows suggested wide-bladed, curving swords. “Al’s not coming,” she said decisively.
“Whaddaya mean he’s not coming?” Pug protested.
“Listen. Al never got mad enough at us, which I always thought was suspicious. This is all a joke he’s playing on us, for revenge.”
“I still don’t get it,” Pug insisted. “What’s the joke?”
Rita went bug-eyed and stared across the table at him. “Al’s not coming, that’s what I’m getting at, Pug. No rafts tomorrow, no trip. We all go home, ha-ha.”
Pug looked quickly around the table to see what the rest of us thought. I wondered if it could be true. After a second I knew it couldn’t be. “Al could get into trouble for doing something like that—maybe even get sued. You can’t be in business and do something that unprofessional. I still think he’s coming.”
“I’m afraid I have the answer,” Troy said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and replacing it neatly beside his plate. Troy was seated at the head of the table—because nobody wanted to sit beside him? Or had he assumed it was his rightful position? He leaned back in his chair, tilting onto the back legs, yawned, and joined his hands behind his head, elbows out in the air.
Rita said, “Are you doing some kind of yoga or something, Troy? Out with your theory. Let’s hear it.”
Troy eased the chair down and folded his hands in his lap. “Well, Al’s not coming, like you said.”
“All you have to say is ditto?”
Troy put his head down for a second. When he looked up, his face had the most awkward expression I’d ever seen on it. Then he said, “I’m Al.”
I was completely confused. So was everyone.
Rita reacted by slamming her open hand on the table. The noise startled us all, including Troy. People in the café were looking at us. Rita didn’t care. She pointed her finger at Troy. “I’m not taking anything off anybody, Troy, especially you. So cut the weirdness. Al is a Vietnam vet who runs an outdoor school for messed-up kids. And you’re not him.”
Troy said evenly, “What I’m trying to say is, it was me who wrote those letters to you guys.”
Pug made no effort to disguise his confusion. “Say what? You did what?”
Star and I had our jaws on the floor. “You did what?” we echoed.
“I wrote the letters.”
Troy looked at each of us, his piercing blue eyes going around like a searchlight. “I had something to offer you,” he explained, “but if I’d come right out with it, you wouldn’t be here now. You would’ve turned me down or your parents would’ve turned me down.”
“Turn what down?” insisted Star. Star was not as passive as Troy might have remembered her. “Tell us the truth now, Troy. Whatever it is you’re about to tell us, tell us the truth for once.”
“I will,” he promised. “Listen. Just hear me out. I turned eighteen around Christmas—”
“Bravo!” Rita cheered, but when Pug gave her a pained look, and turned back to Troy, Rita held her tongue. Troy proceeded to tell us how he had obtained a private permit to run the Grand Canyon. He’d applied, all nice and legal, then phoned in half a dozen times a day for months to ask if there were any cancellations. And wouldn’t you know, he got one. A trip c
anceled and he got their date. “I got a private permit for tomorrow, the fourth of June,” he concluded. “That’s our lucky date. We’re totally legal. Doesn’t matter a bit if some of us are under eighteen, either.”
“I don’t believe this,” I said.
“And what are we going to use for rafts?” Rita demanded. “Did you suddenly inherit a full line of rafting equipment?”
“That part was simple,” he explained. “I’ve hired a raft rental company out of Flagstaff to completely outfit our trip. They even cater the food. They just drop everything off and we jump on and go. The whole trip is on me, folks.”
“What for … why would you …?” Rita was sputtering.
“Hey, what about Adam?” Pug remembered. “Is he coming or not?”
“I wish. No way I could’ve asked him—he really is working for Al this summer.”
“That would’ve blown Troy’s cover,” Rita explained, putting the pieces together. “What about the letterhead, Troy? It looked real legitimate. Man, you’ve got a lot of nerve. How’d you do that?”
“That was easy. I had some of Al’s old stationery. Any print shop could do that. Of course, I had to change the phone number and set up a new one through an answering service in Colorado. I was just hoping none of you would dig up the number from the actual letterhead, or write Al or Adam. It’s not like this was all foolproof or anything.…”
I was so steamed. “Obviously not,” I said. “You got four fools right here who answered your beck and call.”
“I knew you’d thank me in the end,” he explained, a grin playing on his lips.
I couldn’t take his arrogance. “Right, Troy. After you’ve played God with our lives, we’re just going to jump on your rented boats and go down the Grand Canyon with you.”
He held up his hand. “Just hear me out before you say anything more. Just a little longer.”
“Five more minutes and get to the point,” I said. I felt myself starting to get really angry.
“More than anything, I’ve been wanting to get back to the Canyon. Last October, that was hands down the greatest time I’ve ever had in my life, before I spoiled it—”
“Get this,” Rita interrupted. “I think we’re about to get an apology.”
“I mean it,” he implored. “Being with you guys, rowing a raft on big water—it was the greatest thing in the world. Think about this: I could’ve paid my way on any commercial trip. But having someone else take you down the Canyon instead of doing it yourself, it just couldn’t compare. You know that. It couldn’t come close. That’s why I looked into getting a private permit. You have to wait six or seven years, or you can try and score a cancellation. I worked hard at it, and have the phone bill to show for it. I was amazed when I got one.”
I met his eyes. “So that’s when you started thinking about scamming us.”
“Look, Jessie,” he pleaded. “I spoiled it last time. I know that. I want to make it up to you, all of you—I really do. I can’t blame you for not trusting me, but there’s no one else I’d want to go with except you guys.”
Rita started applauding. “First place in the dramatic category for leading man goes to … Troy. That was touching.”
He put his hands on the table. “Look. Every one of you answered the call. It was because of the Canyon. You all want to get back, same as me. I figured, if I could just get you here, and you could see that you had another chance to run the Canyon—well, you just couldn’t turn it down, no matter how you felt about me.”
I was shaking my head. “You have to be the greatest manipulator of all time. You mustn’t think very highly of us, to think we could be bought so easily.”
“Let’s get past that, Jessie,” he implored. “Let’s get beyond that.”
Rita was beside herself. “That’s a good one, Troy. That must be how they talk out in L.A.”
“Troy,” I said, “you lied to us. This whole setup is a lie. Why should we trust you? You can’t repair broken friendships with money.”
He started to get up. His pride was badly wounded.
“I don’t know what you expected,” I snapped at him.
“Look,” he insisted. “Everybody’s capable of changing for the better. Even me. Think about it. You don’t have to make up your minds tonight. If you don’t want to go in the morning, we won’t go. I gave it my best shot. I’ll reimburse your travel money.”
Rita had an ironic smile on her face. “You’re a piece of work, Troy.”
“I promise everybody this,” Troy said, a flash of his old confidence reappearing. “We’ll decide everything democratically. It won’t be my trip. I’m not going to tell anybody what to do, ever.”
“Praise be,” Rita cracked.
“You can outvote me every time, and as far as the money goes—there’s no strings attached.”
Suddenly he got real intense. “There’s only one thing that’s not going to be democratic.…”
“What’s that?” asked Pug, who was following with utter attention.
“We don’t have enough people to paddle a paddle raft, like last time. There’s just five of us. With all the gear, it’s going to take two boats, and they’re both going to be rowed rafts, like the one Jessie and I took turns at last time.”
“You mostly rowed it,” I reminded him.
“We have to agree before we ever start,” he continued, “that I’m rowing one of the rafts all the way down. That’s something I want for myself out of this trip. The other part is that Jessie rows the other raft.”
Suddenly everybody was looking at me, Troy included, with his tractor-beam eyes.
“Jessie’s the one with the experience, and I remember how badly she wanted to row. Even if I ruined it between us, that’s something I can do for her—make it possible for her to row a raft all the way through the Grand Canyon. Unless she asks for somebody else to take over, nobody even mentions the possibility. It’ll be Jessie’s raft.”
Chapter
4
Halfway back to the campground at Lee’s Ferry, I got panicky. “Slow down, Star,” I said, feeling out of breath. “There’s a curve coming up. Let them get around it. Slow down!”
Star’s delicate eyebrows rose in alarm. She quickly geared the Bug down to a creep. Troy’s Land Rover disappeared around the corner. “I just realized what we’re doing,” I said. “We’re following Troy. This is a big mistake!”
“I see what you mean, Jessie.”
“Turn around. Fast, before they catch on!”
Star did a tight U-turn and gunned the Bug back toward the trading post. Looking over my shoulder, I said, “Troy would have just kept working us once we got to the campground.”
At the trading post, we turned left. Within a few hundred yards, we were approaching the bridge over Marble Canyon. “Let’s just get out of the car,” I said.
We sat on a picnic table in the gathering twilight. Bats were flitting around unpredictably like harbingers of chaos. I said, “I’m so furious I could scream.”
“Maybe you should.”
I’ve never been given to histrionics, but that’s what I did—I screamed, real loud.
Hearing myself scream made me start laughing. “I feel like an emotional teeter-totter,” I said, sniffling. “A complete yo-yo.”
“There’s probably something to be said for screaming,” Star suggested. “You must have needed to flatten out your brain waves.”
“I do feel a little better.”
We started walking down a little trail that left from the parking lot and wound its way down to the bridge abutments. We sat down below the bridge watching the blending of the twilight colors on the canyon walls and listening to the murmur of the river far below. The Colorado, a metallic blue black, made a bend downstream and disappeared.
“It’s just so frustrating,” I said. “We thought we were flying along as free as birds, and instead it turns out we’re caught in a spiderweb.”
“I know,” Star said gently. “You thought
he was out of your life, didn’t you?”
“I wish it was that easy. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t talk about him, not even to you. I felt like if I did—if I admitted I was still thinking about him—it would just make things worse.”
“I could tell you didn’t want me to bring him up, so I didn’t.”
“All winter and spring, it was as if I was still picking up his signals on my radar screen or something. Can you believe, I even imagined I saw his face in the crowd near the finish of my bike race? I was going so fast toward the bottom of the mountain, everything was a blur, but I really thought I saw him for a second.”
“You thought you saw him in Boulder?”
“I know—it says a lot about me. What a stupid thing to pop into my head! He makes me crazy, I guess. What I’d hated about Troy was the way he tried to control me, and yet there I was, back at home, still allowing him to have some influence over me. I don’t know why I can’t shake him off—maybe it’s because we never said good-bye, or bad-bye, or anything at all. No ending, just all of a sudden he was gone.”
“Like with my mother, when she took off,” Star said softly. “No resolution.”
“And now here he is again, asking us to trust him. This is a scam, Star, it’s got to be. Troy shows his bright side to the world, but then there’s that darker side he tries to keep hidden. I’ve seen it before, and I don’t want any part of it. He must be seriously sick, to go to these lengths.”
“Almost desperate,” Star suggested thoughtfully.
“Desperate?” I asked. “Troy? I don’t think I understand.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what was coming, especially if it was going to be misplaced sympathy.
Star gathered her thoughts. “There was something in his voice, Jessie. Something different. I think he’s just so tired of himself. I really heard him when he talked about how people can change. Maybe he’s desperate to change his life. Just maybe, he’s sincere.”
My temples were throbbing. “You always think the best of people. But what if that’s exactly what he wants us to think? What if we’re like fish nibbling at his bait? C’mon, Jessie; C’mon, Star, eat a little more.…”
