Four days later, as Americans across the country celebrated their independence with burnt hotdogs and patriotic medleys, the monsoons arrived in Tucson, Arizona. Thunder rumbled, lightning competed with fireworks, and rain poured down over the scorched earth. And deep inside the walls of Wasp Canyon, something stirred.
PART II
FLIGHT
Chapter 10
“Happy Fourth of July, Mom,” Jessica said when her mother opened the front door. Jessica held a bag of potato chips in one hand and hamburger buns in the other. Claire stood beside her, holding a bottle of red wine.
Andrea gave the girls a warm smile and ushered them inside. “Come in, come in,” she said, directing them toward the living room. Andrea shut the door and grabbed the bottle of wine from Claire. “Thank you so much, dear. Please, go have a seat. I’ll bring out some glasses and some chips to snack on.”
“Thank you, Mrs. C,” Claire said. “And might I say you look lovely tonight.”
“Oh goodness,” Andrea replied. “You are too kind to an old woman like me. And you are looking just fabulous as always, Claire.”
“Just trying to show my American spirit.” Claire was wearing a white crop top with a sequined American flag across the front. A sparkling red gem glittered from her pierced navel.
“Well, I certainly believe you succeeded,” Andrea said. She gave Claire one more smile and then went to the kitchen where Jessica was already setting down the bags of food on the counter. “She’s looking well,” Andrea said to Jessica.
“Be nice, Mom,” Jessica said, giving her mother a sideways glance. “She’s my best friend.”
“I know, I know. I really do enjoy her. Now get out of my kitchen and go join Claire in the living room. I’ll grab us some glasses for a toast.”
Jessica lingered for a moment, watching her mother grab wine glasses out of the top cabinet. Last year, her father had grabbed those same glasses and poured drinks for everyone. That Fourth of July had ended up being the last holiday they had spent together. Jessica felt a pang of heartache so strong she felt she might collapse. No matter how much she ran, she would never outrun her own grief. Grief has teeth, and it never fully releases you from its jaws. At any moment you might feel those teeth clamp down on you, crushing your chest, and suddenly you are unable to breathe. It doesn’t matter if you are waiting in line at the supermarket, sitting at a traffic light, or standing in the center of your kitchen—the grief will find you. You can’t run from something that is inside of you. Jessica forced herself to turn away from the kitchen—and the memory—and headed into the living room to sit with Claire.
Andrea emerged a moment later carrying three glasses with one hand and the open wine bottle with the other. “I don’t know how you do it at the restaurant, Jessica. I couldn’t possibly carry all those dishes and glasses without dropping one. And that is why I will be letting you ladies pour our toast.” She set down the empty glasses and handed the wine bottle to Claire.
“It really isn’t that hard, Mom. You get used to it.”
“And how is work going?” Andrea asked. “You getting a lot of tips? I know the summers can be tough with less people being in town.”
“It’s going alright,” Jessica said, accepting a full glass from Claire. “Geez girl, what are you trying to do? Get me drunk?” They giggled as Claire poured wine into the next glass.
“Here ya go, Mrs. C.” Claire handed the glass to Andrea and then poured herself a glass.
Andrea turned back to Jessica after accepting the glass of wine. “Well, as long as work is going alright, then I won’t bug you about it. But if things get tight moneywise, please let me know.”
“Ok Mom, I will. Thank you.”
“A toast!” Claire announced, standing from the couch and holding up her glass. She gestured to Andrea to make the toast.
Jessica stood up, holding her overfilled wine glass carefully to not spill it. “A toast,” she repeated.
Andrea joined them. “Happy Fourth of July, ladies,” she said. “Here’s to a much better year than the last one.”
“Oh please God,” Jessica said.
They clinked their glasses together, and just as Jessica brought her glass to her lips thunder boomed overhead.
“It’s he-ere,” Claire said in a spooky, sing-song voice. She took a large sip of wine and returned to sitting on the couch.
Jessica sat down beside her. “Thank God. We could really use some rain.”
“What about your running, honey?” Andrea asked as she peered out the living room window. Dark clouds covered the sky and the wind had picked up. The bows of Andrea’s mesquite tree bounced up and down as downdrafts of wind from the approaching storm swept across the yard. “Looks like this might be quite a storm. I bet the washes will be running.” Andrea turned from the window. “You better watch out for flooding.”
“We’ll be fine, Mom. We just got here. I’m sure the storm will be over way before we leave.”
“So what about the running then?” Andrea asked again. She sat down in the armchair opposite the couch. “Do you think you’ll be able to continue running with the monsoon season going on?”
“Well, I always run early in the morning, so I really don’t think it will be an issue. The storms always happen in the afternoon, anyway.”
“We just want you to be safe, girl,” Claire said. She grabbed a few potato chips from the bowl. “You know, I can always go out there with you sometime. Work some of these things off.” She gestured to the potato chips and popped one into her mouth.
“Naw, it’s ok. I’m tracking my progress with my app and I think it will skew my results if I’m not alone.”
“So you’re saying I’m gonna slow you down?” Claire raised an eyebrow at Jessica and popped another chip into her mouth, chewing noisily.
Jessica laughed. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think we’d get busy talking and I wouldn’t push myself as hard.” Jessica shook her head when Claire offered her the bowl of potato chips. She took one small sip of her wine. Tomorrow she was planning to go for a run and she didn’t want a wine-stained puddle on the side of the trail.
“Well, I must say I think it is working, whatever it is, “Andrea said. “You are looking a little bit healthier, I think. You were just wasting away before.”
“She is eating more,” Claire agreed. “I saw her eat a whole half of a sandwich the other day.” Claire continued to work on the bowl of chips.
Jessica knew her appetite had started to improve. Sometimes when she returned from a run, she would feel almost ravenous. It didn’t take more than a few bites of something to make her stomach ache from overfilling, though. Jessica always forced herself to eat a few more bites, despite the aching, knowing that she needed it for energy if she was ever going to get strong enough to get into that canyon.
“The running can make me hungry, I guess,” Jessica said. She didn’t want to tell her mother or Claire about the canyon just yet. It was her secret goal, and might one day become her own private getaway from the world and reality—a special place just for her.
Harsh white light lit the living room as lightning flashed overhead. A deafening crack of thunder followed. All three women jumped in their seats, wine sloshing dangerously close to the edges of their glasses. Except for Claire’s, whose glass was bordering on empty. Rain began to hit the window in sheets, brought in sideways from the wind.
“My goodness!” Andrea exclaimed. “Well, I’m certainly happy we aren’t barbecuing tonight!”
“We certainly are getting a great fireworks display, though!” Claire laughed and helped herself to some more wine. She turned to pour some more into Jessica’s glass but it was still mostly full. “You don’t want anymore, girl?”
Jessica looked at her glass and shrugged. “I’m going to go running early tomorrow. Just trying to avoid a hangover.”
“Good for you, Jess,” Andrea said. And then quickly: “Jessica.”
Jessica gave no indi
cation of the name slip. Instead, she stared out the window at the raging storm. Night had almost fully taken over, and the splattered window was transitioning into a reflection of the well-lit living room. A year ago her father had been sitting in the living room with them, a thin ghost of his former self. He tried to act like he was having a good time, but Jessica could see the strain on his face as he tried to pretend he wasn’t tired or in pain. In the window’s reflection she stared at her father’s empty chair, the reflected image obscured by the last hints of light outside.
“What do you think, hon?” Andrea asked.
“Huh?” Jessica jerked back into reality. “I’m sorry, I got distracted looking at the storm.”
“Do you think the weather guy is right about this being a big monsoon year?” Andrea asked again.
“They said yesterday they thought it would be the most rain we’ve seen in years, possibly decades,” Claire said. It appeared she had found the bottom of the chip bowl.
“It certainly looks like it,” Jessica agreed. She turned her gaze back to the rain-streaked window, lightning turning the backyard into a photo negative each time it flashed.
Chapter 11
Mud. Mud everywhere. Jessica brushed at her leggings, where a splattering of mud was now drying. The bottoms of her sneakers were also caked in mud. Jesus Jess, you are a mess.
Her run had gone well enough, although there was more slipping and sliding than usual as she made her way along the muddy trail. Yesterday’s downpour had turned Wasp Canyon Trail into quite the obstacle course. There was still the scattering of rocks and stones jutting out of the caliche, but now there was also a collection of muddy puddles. Patches of the trail had already dried and returned to the hard, unforgiving surface that was Tucson’s soil; however, in other areas where the earth dipped down, water had pooled and softened the tough clay into a soup. Once the gooey mixture coated her shoes and began to dry, it was almost like running on chunks of cement.
Jessica stood at the edge of the asphalt, trying to scrape the hardening mud-clay off of her shoes. She balanced on one foot and dragged the bottom of her sneaker across the pavement’s edge, then repeated on the other side. When she managed to get off what she thought was a respectable amount, she headed toward her Camry in the parking lot. She had just reached the car door when she heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps on the pavement.
“Hello there!”
Every muscle in Jessica’s body tensed at the sound of the man’s voice. She whirled around from the car, her hand still on the handle, and stared at the man standing in the middle of the parking lot. He wore khaki shorts and a salmon-colored button-up shirt. He had a khaki hat to match his shorts, sturdy hiking boots, and a set of walking poles.
“Where did you . . .” Jessica trailed off. Her head darted from side to side as she scanned the parking lot for another vehicle. There weren’t any.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a chuckle. “Name’s Cameron Jasper.”
Cameron took a step forward to offer his hand, and stopped when he saw Jessica take a step backward. “I really am sorry ma’am. I just wanted to say hello before you headed out. It’s rare to see someone else around these parts this time of year.”
Jessica’s posture relaxed, however she refused to relinquish her grip on the door handle. “Yeah, uh,” she stammered, “this is the first time I’ve seen someone out here.” She looked around the parking lot again, as if the vehicle the man arrived in must have materialized since the first time she looked. “Where exactly did you come from?”
“East Texas! I doubt that’s what you meant though.” He smiled broadly. “I actually live in one of these fine estates on Wasp Canyon Road.” He gestured to the desert surrounding the parking lot. “That’s why there’s no car. I simply walk from my home to the trailhead.”
Jessica finally let go of the door handle. She blushed and offered a small smile. “I’m sorry if I acted weird. You just took me by surprise.”
“That’s quite alright ma’am, a young woman must be cautious. And prepared. I wholeheartedly believe it is ever so important to always be prepared.” Cameron winked.
“Prepared for what?”
“Well, anything, I suppose. I believe it is important to be prepared for anything life might throw at’cha.” Cameron stood in the center of the parking lot, making no attempt to step closer to Jessica. His posture was non-threatening and his warm smile had a calming effect. He certainly didn’t appear to have any ill intentions.
Jessica took a step forward. “I—I’m Jessica.” She offered her hand to Cameron.
Cameron took a few steps forward and grasped her hand in a hearty shake. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Jessica.” He surveyed the parking lot and also seemed to realize that no other cars were parked in the lot. He returned his gaze to Jessica. “Anyhoo! I just wanted to say hello to a fellow traveler. Like I said, I rarely see people out this way this time of year.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jessica said, smiling. Cameron seemed to be a nice enough man and she could feel her tension starting to dissolve. She guessed he was probably in his mid-fifties. His hair was graying at the temples and he had laugh lines etched across his tan face. From the looks of his clothing and tanned features, Jessica guessed Cameron was no beginner when it came to hiking Tucson’s trails.
“You’ve been hiking this trail a long time?” she asked.
“Not as much as I like, but I try to make it out here at least a few times a month. I work from home, but those pesky businessmen in Texas sure keep me on the phone quite a bit.”
“What kind of business do you do?”
“Investments,” Cameron said. “Not the most exciting of enterprises, but it did help me snag a nice little bungalow in Wasp Canyon Estates.”
Jessica laughed. “Bungalow? From what I can see these houses are much more than bungalows.”
“Potato potato,” Cameron said, pronouncing the word identically.
“You mean potato potato?” Jessica asked, pronouncing the first word with a hard “A” and the second with a soft “a”.
Cameron laughed. “Nope! Potato potato,” he said, once again pronouncing them the same way. “It is all the same thing, my dear Jessica, no matter how we pronounce it.”
Jessica smiled. “So you say you come here a lot?” She gestured to the empty parking lot. “Is it always so empty?”
“In the summertime, yes. That’s why I come in the summer.” Cameron winked. “In the winter, good luck finding a parking spot, let alone a quiet moment alone with nature. Those snowbirds come around, taking selfies and yammering on their headsets. It’s like Disney World without the rides.” Cameron laughed and looked wistfully at the trailhead. “I make sure to stay clear of that chaos. I come up here to clear my mind and listen to the canyon, not listen to tourists discussing where they want to go for happy hour that night.”
Jessica grinned. “I can respect that, Mr. Jasper.”
“Cameron, Cameron! You make me sound like an old man.”
“Cameron then,” Jessica said, smiling. She surveyed the parking lot one last time and then turned back to Cameron. “So this place stays pretty quiet during the summer then?”
“Like a ghost trail. Perfect place to come and get away from it all. As long as you aren’t afraid of ghosts, that is.” He winked again.
Jessica’s smile lost altitude. “Believe me when I say ghosts are the least of my problems.”
Chapter 12
“How has the running been going?” Wyatt asked. She sat in her executive chair across from Jessica, her hands loosely clasped and a notepad lying in her lap. Today her office had a warm glow, in contrast to the gloomy grayness that hung outside the window. The monsoon rain had been coming often and mercilessly since the first storm arrived on July 4th. In the past week it had rained five of the seven days—substantial rainfall for any monsoon season. The clouds appeared over the mountains every afternoon like clockwork. Wyatt
had a perfect view from her picture window, where she could watch as the clouds expanded both outward and upward, eventually blotting out the blue expanse of sky. The winds picked up, bringing the rain with it. As the onslaught of rain began, the mountains would become obscured, eventually disappearing into a gray mass of wind and water.
Jessica sat in a chair that was no longer slightly worn. Wyatt had promptly replaced it when she noticed the first few loose threads.
“Your chair feels funny.”
“It’s new. I had the one you were sitting in last week replaced.”
“Why would you replace it with the exact same chair?”
“Because some of my patients come here because they are feeling out of control. They don’t want surprises or changes; it would make them feel even further out of control. This room is the same each time they come in. It is reliable. And reliability is comforting.”
“Makes sense.”
Jessica had been talking more during her last few appointments. Although she still skirted questions regarding her father, she was engaging in conversation more often and with more interest. Her pallor had decreased and her features were noticeably less gaunt. Her clothing was still wrinkled, but it did appear to have been washed recently. All good things.
“I would love to know how your running has been going.” Wyatt looked down at her notepad. “Still Wasp Canyon Trail?” she asked.
“Yup,” Jessica said, nodding.
“You were still struggling to make it a mile and a half without stopping when we spoke last week. Is that still the case?”
Jessica turned her gaze from the window and looked at Wyatt. More progress.
“Yeah, I’m still having trouble with that. I think it is because of this, though,” Jessica pointed out the window. “The rain is making the trail all muddy. It sticks to my shoes and I think it is slowing me down. Plus it makes it kinda slippery in some places.”
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