Killdeer Dance

by Ronn Fryer

  Fearing that Oliva might once again be reliving that awful incident, Tina reached across the table and gently turned Livvy’s face toward her. With her finger delicately gliding above the girl’s cheek, she let it drift to the upper edge of Olivia’s eye, just below the brow. Time and cosmetics had worked wonders. Emotions, however, were a different matter altogether; certainly nothing she could kid about. And the girl’s automatic responses of, ‘I’m okay,’ really didn’t reveal anything.

  Tina tentatively slid her hand away. Maybe she’d teased her enough. Tactfully changing the subject, she mentioned, “By the way, the girls are going down the river Tuesday.”

  Acknowledging the comment with a simple, ‘oh,’ Olivia shifted her attention toward the clothes basket; its side recently cut away for easier access. Felicity was nestled deep within the towel’s folds, sound asleep. Did foxes dream? Was she lost in a memory of her real mother, so sadly short-lived? Like her new mom, of course, the little vixen’s deepest thoughts were closely kept secrets.

  “They asked us if we wanted to go along,” Tina continued. “I said I could get the day off, but I wasn’t sure about you.”

  “Have you ever been in a canoe?” Olivia taunted, as she got up and returned Arvy to his altered Dollar Store Den. Maybe she’d get him a toy mouse later – high time for him to start honing his hunting skills.

  “Are you kidding?” Tina bantered in return. “My parents took me down the river while I was still in diapers, we even have our own canoe, a Sawyer Rebel.”

  Gently depositing Arvy next to his sister, Olivia asked, “Is that a good one?”

  “It’s yellow – with padded seats!” Tina replied.

  “Ooooh,” Livvy cooed, “padded seats.”

  Promising to check the fire danger that morning, Olivia assured her friend she’d try her best to sneak off. Why not? She’d certainly cross-referenced enough trash fires. If Glennie had a problem they could always go to Hale. She’d already begun scanning job openings all the way from Montana to Marathon. She adored her present life; her little cabin in the woods and the tower, but dealing with the uncertainty that was quickly becoming a certainty, was starting to wear thin.

  Leaving Tina, however, seemed unthinkable; the mere thought made her eyes sting. Even if she’d only gone canoeing once before, she wasn’t about to miss a chance to spend the day gliding down the awesome Au Sable with the only real friend she’d ever known.

  Ramona would be going too, of course. How was she going to handle that? With an audible sigh, Olivia simply relented to fate, deciding to let it paddle her to whatever arcane destination lie ahead.

  Chapter 23 – Sticks and Stones

  Tuesday morning Olivia woke up early. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then pulled the checkered curtains back in the lone bedroom window. She was hoping for a light mist, but her luck was even better. Her immediate world was socked in a thick fog. Visibility couldn’t have been more than twenty yards; barely enough to make out the outline of her truck.

  No problem skipping work today, she couldn’t have located the fire of 1911 in this soup. Delighted, she slid out of bed and slipped her feet into her rabbit slippers. You only walked across the cabin’s ice-cold cement floor in bare feet, once. She was glad she’d decided to buy them. They were the last pair available in her size, and even if they were pretty silly, they kept her feet from freezing. She usually hid them though, since the foxes considered the floppy-eared footwear fair game.

  “Good morning kids,” she said, kneeling on the edge of the pink fuzzy rug to stroke the kits that could longer be considered babies.

  Archduke Reginald Von Fox was already wide awake, and surprise, surprise – hungry. Felicity was no less voracious. With fingers curling beneath the female’s chin, mom gently scratched the growing vixen. That simple act amounted to one of the little canine’s biggest pleasures in life. Even if Olivia might never meet her human soulmate, at this moment she knew unconditional love.

  After a nice toasty shower, its length limited only by the size of the hot water tank, Livvy returned to the bedroom and faced the dilemma of what to wear. Although she’d purchased a darling floral bikini back in June, she’d never actually gotten up the courage. Reassessing the skimpy material, she decided that it wasn’t going to be today, either.

  Opting instead for tan shorts and a light blue halter, she inspected her reflection in the door mirror – not so bad. A little embarrassing on top, but she couldn’t help admire her shapely legs and cute little tush.

  Even though the shadows had long receded from around her eyes (purple fading to a lovely shade of mustard before it finally receded completely), she nevertheless preferred to keep attention below her chin. Nothing against the Goth look, it had just never been her style.

  Plopping back on the bed, she found herself wondering – what exactly was her style? She might not be girlie-girlie, definitely not like Courtney, or even Tina for that matter; but she was certainly feminine all the same. Working the fire tower didn’t change that. It wasn’t just a man’s job, and it sure didn’t make her the D Word.

  Neither did liking Ramona.

  The little poet was so charming, how could anyone not like her? She was about as adorable as the kits stirring in the basket. Caring about such a sweet girl like that didn’t make you a...no, she wouldn’t justify her feelings (whatever they might be), with labels. Words should be used to create beautiful images, like Ramona did in her poems – not to make you feel uncomfortable or as weapons to judge and belittle.

  The only label she needed was Olivia – Livvy if you cared enough to be her friend. Or, if you still spent a significant amount of your day playfully romping in a towel-lined plastic clothes basket, you could refer to her as mom.

  Chapter 24 – Six to the Good

  “You look great!” Tina cooed the moment she saw her. “I love your shorts.”

  Olivia was never sure if her friend was simply being nice, but Teans always seemed to find something to compliment and it always made her feel good. Validation was especially comforting after her typical bouts of indecision. Livvy extended their perfunctory hug just a bit longer than usual, the best way she knew to thank her, for simply being her.

  “You look great too!” Olivia chimed.

  Tina, of course, always looked fantastic. This morning she’d slipped on a wispy cover-up over her turquoise bikini. She had no problem showing off the goods whatsoever. She was blessed with a perfect body and she knew it. Never really flaunted it, but she sure didn’t hide it either – just the right amount on top, a darling little sit-down, and legs to make a gazelle drool.

  And, in case anyone somehow failed to notice her assets, which was pretty damn unlikely, they were mesmerized by her tattooed torso. It hardly mattered what she wore, she’d be a knockout in a burlap sack. Saying she looked great in her present state of undress left Olivia feeling guilty of blatant understatement.

  “I packed unsweet tea and veggie sandwiches,” Tina said, pointing to the little collapsible cooler on the floor.

  “Chips?” Olivia asked.

  “OMG, are you kidding?” Tina gasped, “They’re disgusting! A moment on the lips....”

  “I know,” Olivia interrupted her, smirk-smiling. She’d heard the spiel a dozen times. Gazing at her friend’s artwork through the sheer cover-up as discretely as possible, she knew those flowers would never reach full bloom.

  Okay, she might not be jealous, but a serious case of envy was unavoidable. Even if it was one of the seven deadlies, she couldn’t help it – only the blind dare throw the first stone. Besides, that still left her six to the good, and Olivia had never been guilty of excessive pride.

  “You could get one too,” Tina offered, as she slung her beach bag over her shoulder. Realizing her gaze was evolving into an awkward stare, Olivia blushed. “I’m sorry, I...” “Don’t be silly,” Tina said, “I didn’t sit through three sessions just to hide them.”

  Rather than even try to deny her guilt, Olivia con
fessed, “They really are beautiful!” “You really could get one,” Teans insisted. “I can make you an appointment.”

  Deep in contemplation, Olivia let the offer temporarily hover in the air between them. After her very first, private viewing, she couldn’t say the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. As soon as Tina reached for the cooler, however, Olivia, grateful for an excuse to avert her eyes, blurted, “I'll get it.” With her bulky beach bag, towel, and floppy hat, Tina (contrary to Livvy), literally had her hands full.

  Holding the door for her friend, Olivia began to picture various tattoos and possible locations. The notion of expressing herself with artwork was intriguing, but choosing an outfit was hard enough. Could she seriously consider something that permanent on her shoulder, arms or – heaven forbid – a little South of the Border?

  Talk about a lifetime on the hips!

  Chapter 25 – Outhouse Derby

  The initial chaos on Old Orchard’s point began, but hardly culminated, on site fifteen. Stacy was an early riser and it didn’t take too much to get Nicole going, but the girls on the adjoining site could have stayed snuggled in like drugged caterpillars until well past noon. Foggy mornings were not great motivators, especially preceded by a late night of campfire chatter. Messy tents that played hide and seek with everything you needed to start the day didn’t offer much incentive either.

  The inside of Courtney’s tent, in particular, resembled the remnants of a twelve year-olds’ first slumber party. If her bladder hadn’t been threatening to explode, it probably would have been nearly impossible to drag the blonde out of her sleeping bag, now completely ensconced within the pile of wrinkled clothes, totes, and disheveled gear covering every inch of the nylon floor. The lifeless lump in the bag next to her was the only evidence that Jennifer even existed.

  Finally succumbing to the relentless pressure in her tummy, Courtney, sporting the worst bedhead she’d ever experienced, ran her hand up and down the inside of her sleeping bag three times before she found the zipper tab. Throwing off the top layer, she cursed as a gust of chilly air rushed in to greet her. Kneeling, she rummaged through the scattered clothes she’d packed so carefully and managed to locate only one sketcher.

  “I can’t find my other shoe,” she complained, haughtily snatching garments from the floor until she discovered its laces spread like spaghetti beneath a pair of inside-out socks. As she stepped over Jennifer, her tent-mate opened one eye, then simply rolled over and fell back asleep before Courtney even finished unzipping the tent.

  One tree beyond the imaginary site line, Ramona had been lying awake, rearranging the words of a poem on the inside of her eyelids. Infatuation was never easy, and staying curled up, cozy in a sleeping bag seemed an excellent way to capture allusive metaphor.

  Keisha, despite repeated comments about how excited she was for the canoe trip to begin, had been the last one to turn in. When Stacy shook their tent, she mumbled something quite unpleasant, but thankfully unintelligible. What was the big flippin’ hurry anyway? The river’d been dug out by glaciers a million years ago, it wasn’t about to run dry in the next hour and a half.

  “Crap!” she mumbled. Once awake, there was just no way to escape the effects of last night’s soda binge. Courtney was not the only girl in need of serious relief.

  Rather than waste time searching for her shoes, Keisha cursed again, slid out of her cocoon one leg at a time, unzipped the flap to their tent and began a beeline to the outhouse on the other side of the narrow blacktop. Before she’d covered ten feet, however, she stepped on an acorn. The quantity, not to mention the volume, of her swearing increased significantly, catching Courtney’s attention.

  They stopped, literally in their respective tracks, and stared at each other for a microsecond, trying to determine if they personified the deer or the headlights.

  It didn’t officially start off as a footrace.

  Keisha’s tent was conveniently a good fifteen feet closer, but due to the hesitation catering to her acorn affliction, the girls found themselves almost equidistance from the little brick building. Well aware of the lone available seat, both girls began to hasten their pace considerably. Steps soon became strides. Then, as if some unseen entity had waved a flag, it suddenly erupted into a quasi-equestrian version of the Kentucky Derby.

  Although Keisha had actually started out first, locating the missing sketcher provided Courtney with a distinct advantage. Out of breath, and three painful acorns later, Keisha hobbled up just in time to see the outhouse door slam in her face.

  Barefoot and beaten, she found one more reason to display her extensive vocabulary.

  “Bitch!”

  Even through the thick metal door, she clearly heard the blonde’s retort. “Loser!”

  It was hardly the best way to begin an adventure that required an unprecedented degree of trust and teamwork.

  Chapter 26 – Riverside Reprieve

  Few things could have been more entertaining than the sight of Tina and Olivia struggling to get the Rebel from the old truck’s wooden bed to the riverbed. The big yellow canoe, dubbed the banana, wasn’t exceptionally heavy, but thirteen feet of awkward fiberglass can be challenging when your combined weights and all your gear, were barely enough to push the craft below its original waterline.

  Big, powerful arms would certainly have been helpful, but Tina’s were sleek and lovely, not strong; and her graceful wrists were perfect for delicate bracelets – less than ideal for the heft, flip and twist required to unload a canoe. Olivia’s stature, although less enviable than Tina’s, was still feminine, and no more formidable. To their credit, however, the girls only dropped the Banana once.

  “Damn!” Tina swore.

  Although the canoe actually got very little use, she’d promised to be extra careful with it. The Sawyer Canoe Company had gone out of business a number of years ago and Rebels, common as they once were, had become a classic of sorts. They may have been relatively cheap, but they probably logged more river miles than all other models combined.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia apologized, well aware how much easier it would have been had she backed the truck down to the water at the Rea Road launch site. The problem was her inexperience with a stick shift. Only sheer tenacity accounted for any progression beyond her initial leapfrog antics attempting to master the three-on-the-tree.

  The stiff clutch certainly didn’t help matters. The truck may have been old and tired, but the damn clutch seemed to defy time – tight as the day it rolled off the line on Flint’s south side. Everything else had no problem showing its age whatsoever. Still, relic or not, Olivia didn’t care to explain how it ended up wedged against the bridge pilings, cab-deep in the crystal waters of the majestic Au Sable.

  Sheer determination, however, tends to win out. After rest stop number two, the canoe had been safely deposited on the sandy river’s edge where Tina and Olivia had a chance to catch a breather and chat while they waited for the girls.

  Examining her friend’s face, Tina said, “Your look great!” Impressed that Olivia had skillfully applied a little makeup this morning, she added, “You’d never even know.” Initially buoyed by the reassurance, Livvy nevertheless started to grow sullen.

  Rather than let her friend slip back into dark places, Tina brought up the expression on Bobby’s face. She could still see him standing on the beach, caught between rage and helplessness. Unable to contain a grin, she added, “You gotta love Stacy.”

  With a look of total agreement, Olivia admitted, “I wouldn’t cross her.”

  Grateful for the subtle change of topic, Livvy willed her mind away from events best not revisited. Rather than drift back into troubled water-under-the-bridge, she instead focused on the gurgling water around her toes. Spring-fed and icy cold, it was more effective than the strongest coffee.

  The early morning sun was already beginning to burn off the fog. It might turn out to be a perfect day after all. Thinking out loud, Olivia murmured, “God, I love the Au Sable.�
��

  Tossing a pebble into the current, Tina agreed wholeheartedly, “Second best River in the whole world!”

  “Second?” Olivia inquired.

  Leaning down for another pebble, Tina pulled the ends of her cover-up away from the water, and answered, “Right after the River of Dreams.”

  Livvy pursed her lips, as if analyzing a strange new personality. “Pretty cosmic of you, Teans, didn’t know you were a poet.”

  Tina nudged her, replying, “Thought I’d give Ramona a run for her money.”

  Olivia simply gave her a look.

  Close friendships really don’t require a long history. Despite the short time since the forest worker had first set foot inside Ruthie’s, hiding behind a nervous smile, their wordless vocabulary had nearly grown into a form of telepathy. She knew her friend wasn’t judging her, and she wasn't flirting either, nothing of the sort. In every way that mattered they’d truly become sisters.

  Tina’s self-esteem, however, like Stacy’s, came from within. Although Olivia had originally been blessed with a healthy sense of self-worth – along with her face, it had taken a beating. No matter how she’d tried to ignore agonizing memories of whispers and backward glances, they always seemed to resurface.

  Discreetly assessing Tina’s long, willowy legs, perfect figure (quite visible through the sheer fabric); and gorgeous face with those absolutely captivating eyes, Livvy found it impossible to imagine anything, or anyone, who could intimidate her. How could they? Unlike Courtney and her counterparts, obsessed with competition, Tina was oblivious to it.

  Who could possibly compete with her? Of course she was confident. Livvy couldn’t deny her envy. Besides, one of the great things about such confidence was the tremendous amount of compassion it fostered.