by Jenna Roads
“I told you, I have already been paid and I’d rather not return the money. And you’re no waste,” Logan said.
“Well, all right, if you insist,” I said.
“How about tomorrow we do some hiking? There is a place I want to show you.”
“I am good with hiking,” I replied.
As we pulled into the driveway of the house he said, “Don’t forget tennis shoes or boots and the stuff from your survival kit and maybe a hat if you have one. I’ll pick you up at eight a.m. while it is still nice and cool if that’s okay?”
As I got out of the truck I said, “Okay, I can do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams,” he replied.
“The same to you.”
I went inside, reset the alarm system and turned on the music that filtered throughout the house and headed upstairs for a shower. Afterward, I put on my camisole and sat on the side of my bed and saw that it was late already. I looked at my phone and I had eleven messages. I was too tired to deal with them, so I got under the sheet, turned out the lights and decided I needed to sleep. I grabbed the remote control by the bed and adjusted the music so Adele would sing me to sleep. I adjusted the lights with the same remote.
I lie there in my bed and sleep didn’t come. I was too excited about the day’s events. I had so much fun and I really liked Logan. He was so dreamy and nice. He was not at all like I had pictured a caretaker would be like. He really was an ‘old soul’ like he said, because he seemed smart way beyond his years. The way he said my name ‘Isabella’, like it was beautiful. Oh, what was I thinking? I’d just gotten divorced a few months ago, although it was not my fault. I must be crazy. Those green eyes of his just glistened in the night light and his muscles—he was kind of ripped.
He was so thoughtful. He was very handsome. His skin was tanned and he was full of mystery and wonder.
What is wrong with me? Sleep, where are you?
CHAPTER FIVE
Sleep must’ve finally taken me because my alarm woke me up into vivid reality.
I headed downstairs for the coffee pot. I made a note to self, about the need to buy a coffee pot for upstairs since I felt like I must have my coffee before I was even human.
I should have set the pot last night to be made when I got down there. Wow, I was really starting to sound so spoiled.
I looked out the sliding glass door to the backyard and I saw hummingbirds, or hummers as I sometimes referred to them as, all around a feeder. There looked like there were six of them. I had never, ever seen six at one time.
I grabbed my camera, opened the door and they flew. I looked back at the coffee pot and the coffee was done. I made a cup of coffee with pumpkin spice creamer, then went to the backyard and sat at the patio table to have my coffee. This was pretty nice; nobody could see me with the brick wall around the yard except for people on their verandas. I couldn’t believe there were no bugs. Just then, the hummingbirds came back to the feeder. There were five birds this time. They were amazing. They had such beautiful colors and they were so fast and magical, as they hover around things. I snapped pictures and watched them long enough to finish my coffee. I went back inside and turned off the coffee pot. I guess I had better get dressed for my hike.
I headed back up the stairs to get dressed. I threw on some jeans and a T-shirt and got my Nike’s. I found earrings to match and a hat. I put my hair in a ponytail and stuck it out the back of my Nike hat. I was all ready to go.
I made my bed and headed downstairs. I got out my cell phone and answered all of my messages at the dining table and then powered up my laptop and went to Facebook to check things out. I started to catch up with the usual like, like, like, comment and comment.
I don’t know why I bothered. I only had one real friend left that actually cared. Sarah. She just moved to Maui with her new husband, Gavin. Out of 326 friends on Facebook, I had one true friend left. That was incredible. The other so-called friends started ignoring me after the divorce and acted differently. At least I could keep up with my family on there.
I got my survival kit and water. There was a knock on the door. I glanced at the clock and he was five minutes early. Answering the door, I said, “Good morning; I will just be a second.”
“No rush,” Logan replied.
I grabbed my survival kit, purse, iPod, water and camera.
We headed out the door, got into his truck and were off. He had the radio on.
“Where are we going hiking?”
“I thought I would take you to the Petroglyphs.”
“What are the Petroglyphs?” I asked.
“A national monument. They are made out of volcanic rock and were made by the Pueblo Indians and the Spanish. Most were made 400–700 years ago, some even much longer ago than that. They are carvings on the rocks that were carved by pecking like with a rock on the dark oxidized surface to reveal the light color underneath. Nobody knows the meaning of some of the carvings, except the people who carved them, who are long gone. Some are known. They are viewed by many as sacred cultural expressions and some are religious. It is just kind of neat to see and wonder about what those people were thinking and doing. I think it is incredible and I hope you like it,” Logan said.
“Wow, it sounds pretty cool and mysterious. I do love a mystery,” I replied.
The radio was playing “Lullaby” by Nickelback.
My phone was beeping a text message. I checked it and my mom was asking how it was going. I texted back to her saying, Everything is going great and I am touring Albuquerque with Logan and learning about the area.
She then texted back, I hear you are in good hands from my sister. I love you.
I texted back, Love ya.
“Is everything all right?” Logan asked.
“Everything is great. It was just my mom checking up on me.”
“You should use that phone all you need before we get there because it will probably be useless in the canyon,” Logan said.
“Maybe we should start our own petroglyphs of sorts, so that people who come after us will have more progress to look at. Like iPads, smartphones, cars with park assist and robots to clean the pool and the floor. We could even have artists draw pictures on the walls of manmade canyons,” I said.
“I guess ours will be graffiti.”
“We’ve already preserved those things with museums in our modern day,” I said.
“Yes, true. Here we are. This is the visitor’s center and the Petroglyphs are a couple miles away. We go in here to find out about everything. So, you can leave your things until we come back out if you like,” Logan said.
“Cool,” I said.
We went inside and saw a video and talked to the people in charge. We got maps, thanked them for their hospitality and went to the truck to collect our water, camera and other things, and Logan put them in his little backpack. He had thought of everything. We even took our phones just in case we needed them and by some miracle, there was a signal.
Logan said, “You might want to stick by me since I have done this before.”
“No problem. Since they said there could be rattlesnakes, I had planned to do exactly that,” I said.
Logan’s laughter filled my ears. “They won’t usually hurt you unless you try to hurt them,” he said.
“I’m not worried about them hurting me. I am worried about them making me hurt myself whenever I see them.”
Logan laughed again.
I saw a bird with a long skinny fantail. “Oh no, it looked just like that cartoon,” I said.
“Yes, Road Runner. That is what it is.”
I snapped a picture. “Wow, I thought that was just someone’s imagination. I didn’t know they were real,” I replied.
Logan handed me a bottle of water and said, “Drink up.”
We traveled on and I saw beautiful magenta colored flowers on a weird tree. I approached to grab a flower to look at and it stabbed me.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed.
&nbs
p; Logan looked and my left thumb was bleeding.
He said, “Hold on,” and got a first aid kit out of his back pack and squeezed my thumb for bloodletting I guess, and cleaned it with wound scrub. It had already started swelling. He put that orange/red paint he called mercurochrome on it and a bandage.
“That was a Cane Cholla Cactus flower. I guess you found the thorns.”
“Thank you so much. You thought of everything,” I said.
“Here, have some more water. I can’t have you getting dehydrated on me.”
We carried on through the canyon and he told me about some of his favorite images on the wall. I took many pictures. You could definitely tell what some of the drawings were, like the roadrunner bird was very obvious. We saw animals, stars, spirals and even crosses.
“It was said that the crosses were put there by the Spaniards, Logan explained.
It was so neat to see and read about the etchings on the rocks. I came up to a hand on the rock that looked like the same size hand as mine and I reached up and placed my hand in the hand etched on the wall.
Logan said, “No, don’t touch.”
Oops. Too late, I thought. My hand felt hot and my thumb was throbbing now where I’d hurt it.
“Oh, yes, I forgot we’re not supposed to touch them to help preserve them for others. My bad.”
It was weird that my hand fit perfectly though, I thought to myself. My thumb stopped throbbing and my hand was cool again.
We carried on through the Petroglyphs and I saw a lizard with a blue tail. Even the lizards were colored here. We reached the top and I could see the Mountain.
“This is so beautiful. I could never get tired of looking at it.”
“The Sandia Mountains. Yes, it is beautiful. I never get tired of looking at it either. Look over there and you can see the volcanos,” Logan said.
After taking pictures and staring in awe for a good amount of time, we headed back to the truck.
I stooped over to look at a white flower and Logan said, “Don’t touch. It’s Jimson weed and is poisonous.”
“Wow, I am so glad I have you with me,” I replied.
“Thanks. I’m kind of glad myself,” Logan said.
“This was so cool! I loved my tour.”
“I am glad you liked it. I think it helps you learn about the history of the people here and makes you understand what is important to them. This is a very sacred place for Native Americans and they still come here often and hold rituals and ceremonies,” Logan said.
“I love all the mystery this place holds.”
We arrived at Logan’s truck and got in. He started it and got the air going. We both grabbed our phones and checked for messages and such. We both answered a few texts, then he started to pull out.
“So, what do you feel like eating?” Logan asked.
I said, “Right now, I could eat anything. I’m starving. It is amazing what a little exercise can do for your appetite.”
“How about sandwiches?”
“That sounds perfect.”
“I know a great little place that makes the bread daily and has very good sandwiches. The owners are very friendly and are serious about their Bakery and Deli,” he said.
“Great,” I replied.
My phone beeped. I announced, “This is my Aunt Carol texting me.”
“Well, please tell her I’m showing you the town,” Logan said.
“I will do better than that. I will tell her how great you are and how much fun I’m having,” I said.
“Are you having fun?” he asked.
“Yes. I have been having a great time. You are so easy to talk with and we seem to be kindred spirits in honor of the Petroglyphs,” I replied.
“Thanks,” he said.
CHAPTER 6
I texted my aunt as we pulled into the parking lot of Roma Bakery and Deli.
We went inside and Logan said, “Hello, Oscar and Bruce, how is it going?”
They both said, “Couldn’t be better.”
“What can I get you?” Oscar asked.
Logan nodded to me and I placed my order for a grilled cubano and iced tea. Logan ordered the same thing.
I made my way to the restroom, as did Logan.
We’d hardly sat down before our food was brought to us. I took a big bite and it was delicious.
“Do you like it?” Logan asked.
“Yes, the bread is wonderful and this is the best cubano I’ve ever had.”
“Good, I like these guys. The food is always excellent and fresh and they’re very friendly and genuine,” Logan said.
I nodded in agreement.
“So, are you dating anyone, Isabella?” Logan asked.
“No. Are you?” I asked.
“No. Well, every once in a while, but nothing real,” he replied. “I don’t do well with the dating scene because inside I’m not as young as I should be. I guess being groomed to take over my dad’s business has given me different priorities than most people my age,” Logan said.
“I guess I am in the same boat. I finished college early and I got married early, which took me away somewhat from my age group. Now, I’m divorced after my very short marriage and I don’t seem to fit in anywhere. I don’t even really have friends any more. My best friend, Sarah, just moved to Maui. My good friend and her boyfriend were also friends with my ex and she is trying to please her boyfriend by unfriending me. Now all the friends my ex and I had together can’t decide who they want to be friends with, him or me. I just don’t need all that drama in my life, so I try not to worry about it,” I explained.
“That sounds very smart on your part. I guess we have things in common. I don’t get into all that drama stuff either. Life is too short and I really love life, especially here in New Mexico,” Logan said.
“I have only been here three days, but I already love it here. I just have this overwhelming feeling that I belong here. It feels warm and good,” I said.
We finished our meal and headed out to the truck after thanking Oscar and Bruce for a great meal.
“Next, I thought we would just ride around town and I would point out the points of interest to you,” Logan said.
“That would be fun. I love just looking at the houses and the landscapes and that beautiful mountain. It makes you feel closer to our creator somehow,” I replied.
“That’s funny. I’ve said those exact words before.”
“I love the adobe houses and different landscaping.”
“The landscapes here are different because we don’t have an abundance of water and they only want you to have small areas of grass and few trees or just certain kinds, because of the need for water. It is called xeriscape. We use rocks, pebbles, mulch, benches, statues, drought resistant plants and different things to landscape with instead of just grass, trees and bushes. I personally think it looks much better this way,” Logan said.
“Yes, I love it,” I replied.
“The only downside to living in the desert is not many bodies of water. There are many public pools and lots of people like your aunt and I have their own pools. I guess you can always vacation at the ocean,” Logan said.
We drove by many highlights of the town, like the ABQ BioPark, which has an aquarium, zoo, botanical garden and beach. We also saw the Isotopes Ballpark, Sandia Resort and Casino, Sandia Peak Ski and Tramway. He took me past the Balloon Fiesta Park that has a museum and golf training course. Logan told me it’s where they hold the annual International Balloon Festival. He said people come from all over the world to see the Fiesta of Balloons and to participate. They hold a mass ascension of balloons and there are like eight hundred balloons that go up in the air from the balloon park at one time. It’s the largest balloon event in the world.
We saw the University of New Mexico and the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center, State Fairgrounds, other casinos, many restaurants of interest and museums. I saw too many places to mention. As we approached each spot, Logan told me about each one. It was great. I had
my own personal tour guide. He was so handsome and smart.
“Are you ready to call it a day? I have a couple of things I must take care of,” Logan said.
“Sure,” I replied.
We headed to my new home and listened to Bruno Mars singing “It Will Rain”.
I looked up and Logan was looking at me and smiling.
“You have such a beautiful smile, Isabella.”
“Thanks,” I replied and blushed.
“You’re fun to be around because you’re so happy about even the littlest thing,” Logan said.
“I think you’re fun for the same reason and because you know everything about everything,” I said.
“Thanks, but I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he replied. “Well, here we are. Since I have been hired for a whole week, can I pick you up about ten a.m. tomorrow?” Logan asked.
“That would be great. I’m having the time of my life,” I replied.
“See you then, Isabella.”
“See you,” I said as I walked toward my door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I thought I would check the mail. I reached in the box and nothing was there. I got inside and put down my things and picked up a soda from the fridge. I turned on the stereo on the wall. I opened my computer I had set up on the desk. I went to Facebook. I saw the usual crap and I clicked like on all of the jokes and pictures except the next posts, which were my pet peeves.
This girl posted a picture and said, “Don’t I look ‘the f bomb’ good?”
“No, now that you ruined the picture with your mouth.” I can’t stand that. It was just not necessary.
Her next post said, “Share this on your Facebook page if you love Jesus. Ninety percent of you won’t do it and Jesus said deny me in front of your friends and I will deny you. So you had better repost now. Remember, God saw you read this.”
Well, lady, God does not like ugly and he doesn’t threaten people to get them to share Jesus. De-friend, she is gone. You think you know people and then you see how they act on Facebook and you wonder what happened to them.
