by John Hansen
“Love, Greg, Dee and “Ophelia” (she wanted me to write out her whole name – Ha!)”
Forty-Seven
I started the park job in October with little fanfare. It proved to be interesting, but not as interesting as the store was and my life outside the Two Med job. Mostly, I helped write copy for advertising and informational materials about the park, something I could do pretty easily, after my old career in Georgia.
I submitted a piece about Two Medicine, the trails, sites, and cultures, to a couple of magazines, including Backpacker, to see if anyone picked it up – my first foray into freelance writing... I smiled to myself as I sent off the first article, remembering my days in the Atlanta office, grumbling over my job. I won’t say my first entries were published, but it began an effort that I kept up and that eventually began to pay.
Sky turned out to be the best roommate I ever had. She and I became close, and only time will tell how close we become.
Soon it was winter. The aspen and cottonwood trees drew back the green from their leaves and stored their nutrients in the trunks and roots, killing off their leaves and readying for the deep freeze. And the winter came on strong, all of a sudden, and soon I was living in a world of white, cold, wind and night.
But the place was still home, and it still fit. “The Bandit” had once again stopped running, his risk taking and wanderlust slated – at least for the moment.
THE END
*In Larry’s letter, Will wrote:
“Larry, I have thought all night about what to do with what you have done. Your brother is no longer around to help you, but I want to do what I can. I can see that you have suffered for what you did; and I know it was an accident. I don’t see how you suffering more will help anyone – not her, me, you, and definitely not Phyllis. She’s suffered enough. So I don’t think you should do what you are planning to do today.
Ruining your life for what you did does not seem like justice to me; and I think Alia would agree. Use this tragedy to get sober, use this to stop your stupid discrimination and racism for the tribe, and use this to make yourself right with Phyllis and your family.
If you do that, I’m never going to tell anyone.”
The next letter read:
“Ronnie, I know you have been wrapped up in some business with Jake, and maybe with Clayton. I don’t really know what it’s about, but I can guess to a great extent; and I think it would be best if you leave Two Med today – before I get back this afternoon. I hope I’m wrong, but if I’m not, then you understand why I say this, and you understand I’ll really miss you as a friend.”
