by Diana Ryan
“At this point I’m going to turn the microphone over to your talented and very single—I mean lovely—tour guide, Ava.” Jack handed the microphone over to me with a not-at-all subtle wink, and I switched on the iPod, scowling at him. A cartoony sounding boat whistle rang out and “Welcome to the Riverboat” began.
I had figured out early on that in order to be a successful singing tour guide you had to wholeheartedly embrace the cheesiness of “Welcome to the Riverboat,” which was an overly peppy tune that sounded like a kid’s song, lyrics that obnoxiously rhymed, and one part that requires the guide to ask a passenger his or her name and sing it. If you weren’t confident enough to ham it up, you’d be overcome with embarrassment and the whole thing would be a disaster.
I found some courage deep inside of me, calmed a few of those butterflies in my gut, and belted out a great rendition of “Welcome to the Riverboat.” I took the stairs to the upper deck only a few lines into the song, not wanting to stay on the bottom and risk another look from Nolan.
I returned to the bottom deck part way through the tour, when I felt my nervousness had subsided a little. It was clear to me that this was Nolan’s first trip through the Dells. He was constantly looking out the window and seemed very interested in all the history and geology I was sharing. As I continued the tour, I felt more and more comfortable, and I was able to give one of the best tours of my life.
On the way back upstream, I granted the tourists some time without commentary to sit back and enjoy the scenery. Some imaginary voice inside me told me to go sit next to Nolan in the front row. Somehow, as soon as I sat down, I felt an odd sense of calm wash over me.
“You’re a lucky lady,” he said. “I mean, because you get to spend all day out here. I haven’t seen anything this beautiful before.” He was staring out the window at the hundred-foot rock cliffs surrounding him. “In Deforest, all we have are corn fields.” Without looking back from the window he asked, “Are you from the area?”
“Yeah, my family and I have lived in the Dells all my life. Actually, my dad’s ancestors moved here from England more than a hundred years ago and his family has lived here ever since. Tourists don’t believe that people actually live in the Dells, but just beyond the main drag you’ll find a community of happy Midwestern folk simply living their lives and trying to ignore the craziness a few blocks over. Every summer season, when the tourists really began to arrive and we hear the police sirens, helicopter tours, and carnival ride noises, my mother would say, ‘The crazies are in town!’ ”
I continued my story, even though he hadn’t indicated he was actually interested in listening to me. “My sister and I spent most of our summers pretending we were fish at the community pool, racing our bikes around the block, or playing with the neighbor girls in our large backyard. We were basically oblivious to the fifty thousand tourists that inhabited our little town between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Every now and then, however, my family used to play tourist. We’d put on our fanny packs and walk downtown to check out what was new in the stores and attractions on Broadway. It was a strange childhood, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
I stopped for a comment from Nolan, but he said nothing and continued to stare at the scenery. Was he ignoring me? My opinion of the company’s newest ticket agent just went downhill. Maybe this guy was a complete jerk. I went on anyway.
“When I was fourteen I got a job working for the Boat Tours. On the Upper Dells tour, the boat stops and you take a walking tour through a rocky canyon called Witches Gulch, see a trained dog jump across a chasm at Stand Rock, and then make an optional stop at Cold Water Canyon. I was a walking tour guide at the Canyon and had a blast wasting my summer days away with a few other fourteen-year-olds. A couple of years later, at sixteen, the Canyon closed and I became one of the youngest boat guides to work for DBT. I’ve spent every summer of the past four years educating and entertaining thousands of tourists on my tour boats.”
I continued mostly for myself now, as I was sure he was tuning me out, still staring out the window. “You know, I’ve fallen in love with the Dells and the Wisconsin River. I think I’ve been up and down this river over two thousand times, and every time I come back I see something new. It’s so quiet and peaceful at times, and at others it’s full of speedboats and jet skis and seems so exciting! It never gets old to me. I think that’s why I love my job. Best summer job ever.”
I was looking down at the high school class ring on my finger now, turning it with my other hand. Memories of a popular girl who made the honor roll and dated the quarterback filled my head. Why hadn’t college been what I expected? Lost in my thoughts, I forgot for a second that Nolan was right next to me, but when I looked up, he was still staring out the window.
I just poured my heart out! Did he even hear a word I said? I let out a frustrated sigh, hoping it was loud enough for Nolan to catch my hint.
But he said nothing for what seemed like a few minutes. It was a very awkward silence, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say to fill the blank space between us. Right when I was about to get up, disappointed, and join Jack at the wheel, I heard Nolan exhale loudly.
“Now I know I’ve made the right decision.” He finally turned from the window and I swear I saw something emotional behind his eyes. “I had quite a time trying to decide if I should leave home and take this job. But now I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
Perhaps I was all wrong about this guy.
“Welcome to the Dells, Nolan. Before long, you’ll be in love.” I turned to look out the window and smiled. I had the most incredible feeling of hope in my heart.
Chapter Two
Almost a week later I was heading downriver on my second to last tour of the day. I absent-mindedly stared down into the swirling, brown water past the deck below my feet, but suddenly my sight went fuzzy. The water seemed to pixelate into big, brown, blurry squares. It really was a strange sight. I blinked rapidly and rubbed my eyes until the peculiar view faded away.
What was that about?
A yawn escaped my throat. Perhaps I needed to get more sleep.
I slowly dared to look back down at the water. It looked normal and perfectly brown again. I hadn’t had any water for a while; maybe I was dehydrated.
Funny how something so basic and natural as a river seemed so precious and beautiful to me when tens of thousands of people took it for granted each day. Instead of discovering a spectacular natural world full of rich history and Native American legend, most visitors to the Dells were working on their tans at the waterparks or putting the pedal to the metal around the go-kart tracks. Tourism for the boats had been on a severe downhill trend for the last few decades, and it didn’t make much sense to me.
The golden summer sun was setting quietly beneath the breathtaking rocky cliffs on the shoreline. Gently, warm breezes blew through my brown hair as I stood gripping the microphone in my hands. I waited for Jack to expertly swing the boat around so the tourists could get the perfect vantage point of Hawk’s Beak.
“Our next point of interest was once featured on the cover of Time Magazine. To find Hawk’s Beak, follow the shoreline...” I spoke empty words as my mind drifted off. It was like I was on autopilot. I could speak the sentences of my tour while thinking of something else. I hadn’t been back on the job too long yet this summer, but years ago, my boat tour had been ingrained in my mind like a rubber stamp. It was sheer talent that, four years later, I could still give tours like the info was all fresh and new. Then again, it was only early June, and the monotony of the job tended to wear on guides by mid-August. Besides all of that, my mind seemed to be off on tangents these days.
Near the end of the tour, I stood in the tiny back closet, quickly calculating the number of guidebooks I had just sold.
God, it’s suffocating in here.
The tiny hole in the wall did not let in nearly enough air to dry the sweat beading up on my bra line.
In order to insure th
at tour guides gave their very best tour each and every time they took a trip downriver, the boat company decided to pay their employees with commission from the sales of a guidebook. This guidebook was fifteen pages of scenes from the Dells as well as old, sepia-toned photos taken by H.H. Bennett more than a hundred years before. There were pictures of Ho-Chunk leaders in full garb, lumbermen attempting to ride their log rafts through the rapids of the narrows, and photos of present-day tour boats. On the end of each page were copies of the photos in postcard form, perfect for sending back to loved ones.
This seemed to be a good system for the guides, as long as they had boats filled with passengers. Early in the season, on a rainy day with only a few passengers to count on each boat, a guide could feasibly walk away making only thirty dollars for an eight-hour shift. Then again, in the middle of July when tourism was at its peak in the Dells, a guide could easily rake in a hundred dollars or more a day.
A quick subtraction and then multiplication problem in my head forced me to count the money in my hands.
Sweet, they matched.
I took out a small hunk of cash from my bulky cargo shorts, folded in the new money, and then shoved the whole thing back in my pocket.
I pushed open the door, breathing in the cool, fresh river air, and made my way back up the aisle to the front to sit next to Captain Jack, who was enjoying the wind flowing swiftly through the front hatch.
“How’d we do?” Jack questioned me.
“We’re thirty-nine for five,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a grimace on Jack’s face as I leaned over to grab my yellow mini-notebook off the front counter. I noted the day’s numbers and then assured him, “But it’s only June 9th.”
Jack sighed under his breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Selling thirty-nine souvenir picture books in five trips was less than stellar by anyone’s standards—even for early June. We sat through the rest of the ride upriver in silence.
My mind was not a bit quiet, though. It was filled with questions about dreamy Nolan. It had been five days since I met him on my boat that morning and I hadn’t seen him since. I figured he was training with other ticket agents, but for all I knew, he had decided not to take the job and headed back home to Deforest. I hoped not, though—I couldn’t seem to shake his face from my mind, but unfortunately, I had no way of knowing if or when I’d see Nolan again.
Jack interrupted my thoughts. “So what are your plans for tonight?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied. “Laura and I might go catch a movie if she doesn’t have to work late. She’s probably The Owl though.” I knew my sister would most likely have to take the last boat tour of the night, and I’d be stuck at home with my parents, but I didn’t want to sound lame. “How about you?”
“I hear there’s a beer waiting for me down at the Sand Bar.”
I shuddered at the thought of a dusty bottle hanging out on the grungy bar of the local hideaway downtown. Not sure why the tourists couldn’t find this place, neatly tucked half a block off of Broadway, but most nights it was relatively void of Chicagoans and full of heartbroken locals.
“Jack, there’s always a beer waiting for you down at the Sand Bar,” I teased.
“Well, then that’s the right place for me.” A few thoughts rolled around his head for a moment. “You wanna join me tonight?”
“Aw, no thanks. You know my parents would kill me if I was down at the bar.”
Jack replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Suit yourself. More beer for me.”
After we cleaned up the boat, I parted ways with Jack in the parking lot. Instead of hopping in my car and driving right home, something made me drift towards the overlook set just off the almost deserted parking lot. I sat down on one of the empty park benches facing the dock and the power dam, and placed my backpack right next to me.
The summer sun set behind my back, shining down over the steep cliff a few feet from my perch. A few of the gates on the dam were open and I watched as huge gushes of water cascaded over the cement walls. The soothing sounds coaxed me to close my eyes and take in a cleansing breath of the summer air.
Everything about the river was home to me. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the unique sights and sounds while I was at college this past year, but a quiet moment of contentment next to my river set my heart at peace. I sat happily on that bench for what must have been almost ten minutes before I decided to go home and spend some time with my parents.
I stood, put on my heavy backpack, and turned to leave, but something shiny and blue caught my eye about five feet down the very steep hill in front of me. The beautiful, glittering object was hidden in a nest of overgrown grass and it piqued my interest. It looked a lot like a glowy blue rock I had found in a box in my parents’ basement a few years ago. I had brought it up to my room, mesmerized by its odd beauty. I had never seen anything like it before, until now.
I leaned far over the long wooden safety barricade at my thighs, to get a better view. It looked as colorful as a little gem, but was very large—almost the size of an egg. It looked like the one on the shelf in my room, but this one was smaller.
Intent on the little blue rock, I swung my legs over the wooden fence, gripped the barricade with my left hand, and leaned down the steep hill, my right arm stretched out. My fingers were only a few inches from the gem, but the hill was so steep, and I knew I couldn’t let go of the fence or I’d topple the sixty feet down the hill and into the deep and rushing waters of the Wisconsin River below.
Right as I was about to give up on my mysterious treasure, I decided to give it one more try. I reached again, causing the contents of my backpack to shift unexpectedly, sending my balance off-kilter. Surprised, I screamed and let go of the barricade in an attempt to catch my balance. My life moved in slow motion for the next few seconds as I fell forward, and I envisioned myself rolling down the rocky hill and crashing into the brown water below.
Before I could blink, two strong arms grabbed my backpack and yanked me on top of the barricade. I swung my legs over the fence and stood, thankful to be on solid ground.
“Nolan!” I breathed as I looked up at my hero. “You’re here...I mean, you saved me!”
Oh my God.
His eyes were sparkling blue, but filled with worry. He dropped my hand quickly, but I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin.
“What were you doing? You could have fallen down that hill!”
He was mad at me. I didn’t want him to be mad at me.
“I...I saw something shiny.” Why did that sound so stupid when I said it out loud?
I looked over the hill, but my little blue orb was nowhere to be found. In my panic, I must have sent some loose rocks into the path of the beautiful treasure, sending it forever to the bottom of the deep river.
I turned back to Nolan. “How did...? Where did you...?” I couldn’t form a sentence.
He started to back up a few steps. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve gotta head to the Boat office,” he said, pointing up the road. Then his frown turned to a smile. “Take care of yourself, Ava. I’d like to see you around here again.”
No. Don’t go.
Then he winked at me and left before I could crack out of my stunned silence.
That beautiful man just saved my life.
Chapter Three
“So, did you check your grades from last semester yet?” my best friend from college, Kasie, asked.
“Oh, are they out already?” I lied, taking a sip from the straw in my lemonade and switching my cell to the other ear. The evening summer sun was almost under the horizon. I loved sitting on my parents’ front porch, watching the sun dip beneath the tree line.
“Ah, yeah. For about a week now! How could you not have checked?”
“I forgot.” I was scared out of my pants to check my grades. I knew in my heart what they were, so why check? “I’ve been busy, I guess.”
“You’re a bad liar, Ava. Come
clean.”
“There’s a hot new guy at work. I’ve been distracted!”
“New guy? Dish, girl.”
“Well, he’s handsome and somewhat mysterious. You know, someone who wouldn’t go for a girl like me.”
“What does that mean?” Kasie paused momentarily. “You have no idea your worth, do you?”
I smiled. Best friends were the breath of life. Maybe I didn’t know how special I was, but at least I had friends who tried to convince me.
Kasie sighed at my silence and then scolded me. “You haven’t seen Aaron, have you?”
“Calm down,” I teased her. “I have not seen him. But this town isn’t too big.”
“Well, I hope he stays away. You need a break from that guy.”
“I know.” A tiny sliver of sun was all that was left of the day. A chilly June breeze ran up my bare legs and I tucked them under a light blanket. “How’s work at the pool?”
“Not bad. I’m working on my tan sitting by the pool, getting hit on by mature guys all day!”
“Kasie, I’ve seen the clientele at the Stevens Point Community Pool. I think you’re mistaking mature guys for men over eighty wearing too small swimwear.”
She laughed loudly. “Fine! Busted! I think I’m going to have to pick up another shift so I can pay for tuition in the fall.”
“I’m proud of you for working so hard.”
“Thanks, Ava. Well, I should get going. It was good taking with you.”
“Yeah, same here.”
“Hey, check your grades. It’s not too late to sign up for a summer term online course.”
Ugh. I came home to get away from school and relax in my beloved Dells. School was the last thing I wanted to focus on this summer.
But instead I said, “Thanks, Kas. I’ll think about it.”