“What does your QuikFit have to say about your progress?”
“It seems like I’m doing ok. My heart rate has gotten a lot better anyway. And before all the rain, I was running a little bit faster.”
“That is excellent news, Jessica. You really are applying yourself.” Another glance at the notepad. “And how about your eating? All the running must make you hungry.”
“Yeah, I’m eating some. When I skip dinner I can’t run as fast the next day. So yeah, I’m eating more, I guess.”
“Such fantastic news. I am very pleased with how dedicated you have been with this project, Jessica.”
“Thanks,” Jessica offered a timid smile.
Wyatt leaned forward in her chair, lowering her voice as if she was about to tell Jessica something in confidence. “Dare I say you enjoy it?”
Jessica blushed and looked down. Her hand went up to a strand of hair, hesitated for a moment, then dropped back to her lap. “Yeah, I actually think I am. Uh, thanks for the suggestion.”
Wyatt leaned back in her chair, made a small notation on her notepad, and then returned Jessica’s gaze. “I am here to help you in any way that I can.”
Rain pattered on the window. The downpour that was raging when Jessica’s appointment began had now dwindled to a sprinkle, as if the clouds were spitting out the last bits of moisture they still had in their dark bellies. The mountains remained shrouded in a gray haze.
No one spoke for a moment, both listening to the rain as it softly tapped on the window. Jessica broke the silence. “What’s on the other side? Of the mountains?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the trail I run on goes into a canyon. I’ve been wondering how far the canyon goes. Or what’s on the other side of the mountains.”
“I’m afraid that is a question I am unable to answer. As much as I love this city, I am no geography expert. I imagine that there is more desert on the other side of the mountains, that I can be almost sure of. But as for how deep Wasp Canyon goes, or if it comes out on the other side, that I do not know.”
“Can you come out on the other side?”
Wyatt sensed the change in topic, thrilled that Jessica had brought it up on her own. However, she did not want Jessica to pick up on her excitement. Wyatt kept her expression neutral, a skill she perfected after many nights of practicing in the mirror.
“Yes, Jessica, I wholeheartedly believe that you can. That anyone can, as long as they put in the effort.”
“I hope you’re right,” Jessica said, turning her attention back to the window. The rain had finally stopped.
Wyatt opened her mouth to ask a question, then stopped herself. Jessica had opened the door of discussion, and then closed it. It was the first time she had opened it at all, and Wyatt didn’t want to lose ground by pressing her further. “Have you seen any animals along the trail?” she asked instead.
“Birds, some lizards. Not much else. I’m actually kind of surprised. I thought I would have seen at least a little bit more wildlife.”
“It is a heavily populated trail from what I researched. I’m sure the animals just like to steer clear of all those humans.”
Jessica leaned forward in the new chair, her eyes bright and interest peaked. “That’s the weird thing, though. There aren’t any people. I’m always the only one out there. So what are they hiding from?”
Wyatt’s expression became concerned. “You are the only one out there? You’ve never met another person?”
“Well, one. He said hello in the parking lot. But that’s it, all this time.”
“Only one . . .” Wyatt tapped her pen on the armrest of her chair, a habit she had stubbornly worked off during her college years. She set the pen down and clasped her hands on the top of her notepad. “How was the gentleman you met? You said he greeted you.”
“Oh, he was fine. Seemed like a nice enough guy. Cameron Jasper, I think he said.”
“Cameron Jasper! Well, I’ve heard of him!”
Jessica’s eyes widened. “You’ve heard of him? How?”
“He’s in the paper sometimes. The Jasper Group. It’s an investment management company. He made a name for himself in . . . where was it?” Wyatt paused, thinking hard. “Texas, I think it was.”
“Yeah, that’s where he said he was from!” Jessica exclaimed.
“From what I have read of him, he was very successful in Texas. He built his company from the ground up and hired a strong group of businessmen. And then he decided to up and move to Arizona. Manages the company from here. He was in the Fortune 500.”
“The what?”
“It’s a list of the top five hundred corporations in the US. Fortune magazine publishes one each year,” Wyatt said absentmindedly. She realized she was losing track of the conversation—something she rarely did. She tried to redirect the course of discussion for the little bit of time they had left in the session.
“Well, Jessica, it sounds like you made quite the acquaintance. I would like you to be careful out there, all the same. Business tycoons or not, being in the wilderness alone is not always a safe situation. I was not aware that you were so isolated during your runs. I would much prefer you stick to a more populated trail.”
“Yeah, I understand,” Jessica said, “but I am really starting to enjoy this trail. I’m comfortable with it now.” And then quietly to herself: “I’ve got mile markers.”
Wyatt looked at the increased color in Jessica’s cheeks and the fuller features of her face. The running was obviously doing her a lot of good. She didn’t want to derail her progress by insisting on an alternative trail.
“I understand your reasoning,” Wyatt said at last, “and I will not try to persuade you otherwise. But I would like to emphasize the importance of being careful while you are out there. Drink plenty of water, be aware of your surroundings, and carry your phone with you at all times. Neither of us want you getting injured out there and being unable to make it back.”
Jessica smiled at Wyatt. “Of course, I always do.”
Wyatt decided to leave it at that. The session had gone so well, the last thing she wanted to do was to spoil it.
Chapter 13
Miles: 3.7
Speed: 2.1 mph
Time: 1 hour, 9 minutes
Heart rate: 146 bpm
Jessica’s breathing started to slow, her lungs began to unclench, and the stabbing pain in her left side faded to a dull ache. The morning heat was starting to set in, and she could feel sweat dripping down her spine, working its way between her shoulder blades. It was 7:32 a.m. on the morning of July 17th, and the sun was already well past the horizon. In the summer months sunrise came early, dawn’s light invading the darkness before 5:00 a.m. By 7:32 the day was bright with sunshine, and with the sunshine came the heat. And with monsoon moisture came humidity. Arizona’s notoriously dry climate disappeared during these few months, and the humidity hung in the air like a damp, smothering embrace.
She had run past the chollas without slowing, pushing hard until she reached the top of Wasp Hill. That hurt. From there she walked for the better part of a half mile, willing her heart rate to slow and her breathing to get under control. And then she pushed on. The crested saguaro came and went. Her QuikFit silently counted the distance. At 3.7 miles she couldn’t find the strength to make it another step, the muscles of her thighs threatening to give way and send her to the dirt.
The sound of the wind was stronger than ever, the mouth of the canyon practically within throwing distance. Almost, she thought. Jessica spread her feet, lifted her arms overhead, and stretched from side to side. The cramp in her left side stubbornly held on, but it was losing ground. Soon it would fade away completely.
There it is. God, I’m almost there. If I called out would my voice echo on the canyon walls? She couldn’t seem to find her voice, though. There was such a hush on the landscape that it felt wrong to break it by shouting. Only the wind was brave enough to speak—a steady rushing sound that c
ould almost be mistaken for running water. It must go all the way through. Right? With all that wind, it must go all the way through to the other side. Jessica felt a pang of disappointment when she realized she would probably never know. She had every intention of exploring the depths of the canyon, but there was no way she would ever make it all the way through. She would have to camp in there—be gone for days. And that’s where she drew the line.
Today’s the day, she thought. Dear Diary, on this day, the seventeenth of July, I, Jessica Anne Cleary, will step inside Wasp Canyon. She walked forward, her feet crunching on the soil below. The wind continued to whoosh and sigh. She was only a few hundred feet away from the entrance now.
The mouth of Wasp Canyon was narrower than she thought, the opening only twenty yards across. There were more trees along the trail now, some pressing close to the path. They were different from the traditional desert variety—instead of seeing mesquites and palo verdes she saw aging oaks and cottonwoods. The trail wound left and right through the trees, making it impossible for Jessica to see what was around each bend. She made her way along the path—left then right, left, then right again—until she stood with the canyon’s walls on either side. She looked up. The cliff faces towered overhead, reaching into the sky like the desperate hands of a drowning man. The walls had a golden tint, with layers of limestone and granite creating waves of color on the rocky surface.
Jessica lowered her eyes, her neck aching from the effort of looking up for so long. She surveyed her immediate surroundings. The foliage was much fuller here—not like desert plants at all. The trees were bigger, their branches more lush with leaves. And there was underbrush covering the ground, more bushes now than cacti. Jessica could still see patches of the desert floor underneath, but she guessed the further she went into Wasp Canyon, the less she would be able to see. Must get a lot more water in here, she thought. The rain must flow down the canyon walls and keeps everything saturated—lets the plants grow more.
The plants looked much greener—much healthier—inside the canyon. The shade must keep them from dying off during the dry season. She realized that some of the bushes and plants were foreign to her, and that all the beloved cacti and succulents that her father had filled his spare time with were disappearing. A few prickly pears still sat among the bushes, fighting for a chance to survive, but they appeared to be losing the battle. Oh Daddy, I don’t think you would have liked it in here. All your cacti have been taken over.
Jessica thought about the cacti that her dad loved, and how he always told her how resilient they were and how they could survive practically anything. Looking around, it didn’t look like they could survive in here. Like Dad, she thought. So tough, so strong, and he couldn’t make it either.
Jessica walked slowly along the trail, deeper into the canyon. The air was noticeably cooler, ten degrees disappearing in a matter of steps. And the soil felt softer beneath her sneakers. Out on the open trail it felt like running on asphalt, however the further she walked into the canyon, the more give the soil had. She could even feel her feet sinking into it at times.
She shivered. What the hell? I’m shivering . . . in Tucson . . . in July. The drop in temperature and the persistent wind had caused her sweat-slicked skin to break out into gooseflesh.
She had ventured approximately a half mile into the canyon when she glanced at her watch, more interested in the time than the distance. 8:01. What the hell? I’ve been in here for almost half an hour? Jessica sighed. Time to go. She turned and started heading out the way she came. She still had the four miles back to the car, and it was bound to be getting pretty hot out on the trail by now. Plus she had agreed to cover an opening shift at the restaurant, and she needed time to shower, eat, and get ready.
As she weaved along the trail in the direction of the entrance her ears picked up on something, barely audible above the constant whistle of the wind. An exhale? Like a grunt? She paused, listening. The wind washed along the canyon walls, but other than that: silence. Jessica turned back toward the canyon and tilted her head in the direction of where she thought she had heard the sound. Nothing. Just the wind. It plays tricks on you in the canyon. Must echo on the walls or something.
She turned and resumed her walk toward the entrance. A faint odor drifted past, brought to her by the breeze and then quickly swept away. It was not a pleasant one. It smelled like rotting meat in the dumpster behind the restaurant—a sweet, putrid stench—like decay. Or carrion. A memory flashed in her mind, one of her dad holding her hand at the zoo. They were at an enclosure for one of the big cats or something, and it smelled bad. Not overwhelmingly bad, but like the stench a predator can give off. She was yanking on her dad’s hand to tell him it was stinky, but his attention was directed toward whatever was in the enclosure. She kept yanking on his hand—and then the memory was gone, also taken away with the breeze. The smell, and memory, were so fleeting that she wasn’t even sure why the zoo had popped into her head in the first place.
She lingered on the trail a moment longer, finding herself confused as to why she was standing there at all when she needed to get going. There was no smell—just the deep, earthy aroma of wet soil from yesterday’s storm. And there was no sound—only the wind. She turned to the mouth of the canyon and once again started walking along the trail, this time not slowing her pace or looking back.
Chapter 14
“Great day for a stroll, isn’t it, young Jessica?” a voice called from the top of the hill. Cameron Jasper was cresting Wasp Hill with the aid of his walking poles, heading in the direction of the canyon.
Jessica slowed to a jog, and then stopped altogether when she reached where Cameron was standing. “Good morning, Cameron!” she panted, trying and failing to hide how out of breath she was.
“Looks like you worked up quite a sweat out there. And it feels like it’s going to be a warm one today.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said between ragged breaths, “it sure is.”
“Take your time, catch your breath. I assure you that I get out of breath far more frequently than you do.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Jessica grinned, her breathing finally under control.
Cameron returned her grin and winked. “I got started a little later than I care for today. Those dimwits in Texas kept me on the phone far too long.”
“Yeah I heard that you were, uh, kind of a big deal back in Texas.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a big deal,” he said. “I just happened to be skilled at a certain task and it led me to be quite successful in my business endeavors. Nothing more than that.”
“I think you’re being modest, but ok.”
“I guess it depends on what you measure as a big deal,” he said, making quotation marks with his fingers. “I think someone who has honed their body enough to be able to compete in the Olympics is a big deal. Or a couple that has been happily married for fifty years, that’s a big deal. I, myself, only made it four years before I realized that marriage was not one of my strong suits. I am, however, good at managing investments. Successful yes, but big deal? I don’t know about that.” He smiled and adjusted his walking poles.
“Well ok, if you say so.” Jessica looked around. She could see the roof of a large house in the distance. “You were able to get one of the houses out here. That seems like a big deal to me.”
“Now that, young Jessica,” Cameron paused and held up his index finger, “I cannot argue with. I do love it out here, and my business success did make it possible for me to acquire a home in this desirable location. And with the dimwits running things back in Texas,” he shrugged, “I am able to live out here full time and consult with them from the comfort of my own home.”
“Sounds pretty nice.” She took a gulp of water from her CamelBak.
“I do wonder how you came across my big deal status,” Cameron inquired.
“Oh, my thera—” Jessica stopped. She had not meant to divulge to Cameron that she had a therapist. “My, uh . . .”
she stammered.
“Jessica, we all have a therapist. In one way or another, we all need help sometimes. Some confide in a friend or a spouse, others need a more professional confidant.”
She smiled gratefully. And before she knew it the words slipped out: “My father passed away recently. I . . . I’m having a hard time dealing with it.”
“My dear girl, I am so sorry to hear that. I lost my parents when I was young and it was a very difficult journey to find happiness again. Nature helped some, but a lot of it was time. So don’t be too hard on yourself, and absolutely do not feel ashamed for needing help.”
“Thank you. I really needed to hear that.” Jessica marveled at the thought that an eccentric hiker/business tycoon/millionaire ended up being the first person she told about seeing a therapist—besides Claire of course. She glanced at the cityscape of Tucson, visible from the rise of Wasp Hill. She really needed to get back, but wanted to ask Cameron something before she headed out. “Cameron, have you ever been inside the canyon?”
A large smile spread across his tan face, making him look ten years younger. “Did you finally make it inside?”
“Yes I did. Not very far though,” Jessica said. “I have to make it back for work later today.”
“Well, the canyon certainly is a treat. And yes, I have been inside of it numerous times. You have to set out a stretch of time to allow for it though, that’s for sure. It can take the majority of your day to hike in and then make it back out, especially before nightfall.”
“Does it have an end point?”
“That I do not know. If it does, I have not discovered it yet. I can say that it does go for quite some distance.” He paused, reflecting on some memory that he did not choose to share. “It is lovely in there though, that much I know. Like another world.”
“It really was,” she agreed. “And I didn’t even make it that far inside.”
Wasp Canyon Page 6
