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Fatal Descent

Page 10

by Beth Groundwater


  Sensing his embarrassment, Mandy said, “Well, when you put your arms around some of the women last night, they tensed up and scooted away from you as fast as they could. And when you splashed Elsa today, she didn’t like it.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Some of your comments have been out of line, too.”

  “Like what?” Cool fidgeted, his hands clenching and unclenching.

  “Like your snarky remark just now when Rob and I came back to camp.”

  “Oh, c’mon! Wasn’t it true?”

  “No!” Mandy was getting frustrated. “And that’s not the issue anyway. Look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. And the reason I took you out here to talk about it is that I don’t want to make a scene in front of the clients.”

  “I hope not. You’d be screwing with my tips.”

  Was that the reason he was doing this? Regardless, it had to stop. Mandy set her jaw. “You just need to tone it down, not be so touchy-feely.”

  Cool threw up his arms. “That’s who I am. No one’s had a problem with my behavior on any of the other trips I’ve been on all summer long.”

  Mandy couldn’t verify that that was the case, but it didn’t matter. “Well, we have a problem on this trip.”

  “Maybe you’re the problem,” Cool said heatedly. “Maybe you’re just wound up too tight.” He poked a finger at her. “You should loosen up, you know. We’re supposed to give these folks a good time, not let them get all bummed out.”

  Mandy stood her ground. “It’s not just me.”

  “Hell, I think it is.” He thrust his face toward hers. “Why don’t we leave it at this? I don’t work for you, baby doll. I’m just a loaner on this trip. So you can’t tell me what I can or can’t do. You earn your tips your way, and I’ll earn mine my way. Just stay out of my face.” He wheeled and started tromping back to camp.

  This hadn’t gone at all the way Mandy planned. “That’s unacceptable, Cool!” She started after him.

  He turned back to her, fists balled up at his side. But before he could say anything, Rob appeared through the willows.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “Tell your lady friend to get off my back,” Cool spat at him and tried to push past Rob.

  Rob grabbed Cool’s forearm, stopping him. “If Mandy’s on your back, it’s for a good reason. And that means I’m on your back, too.” He looked at Mandy. “What are you asking him to do?”

  “I’m not asking him,” Mandy said, frustrated that Rob had to step into this discussion. “I’m telling him. Cool, you’ve got to tone down the flirting and lewd comments.”

  Rob stared at Cool. “You heard her.”

  Cool glared at Rob, who even though he stood a few inches shorter, outweighed him by at least thirty pounds of pure muscle.

  “Fine,” he said between gritted teeth. “I’ll tone it down.”

  Rob released him. “That’s all we’re asking. It’s a simple request.”

  Glowering, Cool stalked off.

  Feeling just as put upon, Mandy folded her arms. “I could have handled him. You didn’t need to check up on me.”

  Rob spread out his hands, palms up. “I wasn’t checking on you. I came to tell you it’s time to start fixing dinner. People are getting hungry, and it looks like a rainstorm is brewing.”

  Mandy scanned the western horizon and saw the clouds piling up over the canyon rim. They were white and billowy now, but they could turn gray and angry-looking soon.

  “Crap.” She bent over to pick up a driftwood log. “Grab some wood.”

  “Sorry, mi querida.” Rob reached down for some logs, too. “When I heard you two yelling, I thought you needed help.”

  And he had done so in his typical macho way, all primed to protect her. Cool knew it and had backed down. She blew out a breath. She knew Rob was like this, and she had accepted his marriage proposal anyway. And he knew she didn’t like it and had proposed anyway. They would work this out eventually.

  “I’m sorry, too. Sorry I bitched at you. Cool was the one I was really mad at.” She walked over to him with her arms full of wood and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Thanks.”

  Yes, she was miffed, but she had to let it go. She did love the big lunk, after all.

  eight

  It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds, for the opportunity to rain on a tent.

  —dave barry

  When Mandy and Rob returned with the firewood, the horseshoe game had stopped. Gonzo was now leading the players in an echo contest. They hollered as loud as they could in various directions, then listened to see how many echoes bounced back to them from the looming archways and sweeping curves in the steep canyon walls.

  Les puffed himself up and produced a massive bellow.

  Gonzo held a cupped hand to his ear and stood still, listening intently. After a few seconds, as the sound faded into the distance, he said, “I counted six echoes. What about the rest of you?”

  “Seven,” Tina replied. “At least seven.”

  “I only counted six,” her mother replied.

  “I’ll take the seven,” Les said, “and that’s the most so far.”

  When they all clapped, Les took a theatrical bow while Elsa shook her head.

  At that moment, Paul appeared, walking down the beach from upriver. He held up what looked to be about a one-pound catfish.

  “Caught one,” he said with a triumphant grin.

  “Congratulations.” Rob clapped him on the back. “We’ll clean it and fry it up for dinner. But first, we need to unload the gear.”

  He and Mandy organized a bucket brigade to unload the rafts. Soon the clients were busy pitching their tents on the sand while the guides set up the kitchen. Kendra and Gonzo worked side-by-side chopping vegetables while Cool heated water and studiously avoided getting anywhere near Mandy. Rob buttered bread, and Mandy organized a serving line. The menu was salad, stuffed pasta shells in marinara sauce, and toasted garlic bread.

  Dessert would be fixed later—cinnamon apples that Mandy planned to bake in foil packets in the campfire she had built in the metal fire pan. She glanced worriedly at the now-gray clouds looming in the western sky. She hoped the rain would hold off long enough.

  “We’d better kick it up a notch,” Rob said, following Mandy’s gaze, “and get this meal served as fast as we can before the storm moves in.”

  They all stood straighter and sped up their movements.

  “I’ll make sure everyone knows that rain’s on the way,” Mandy said.

  She made the rounds. She advised folks to have raincoats handy. She also told them to stake down the corners of the tents or put large rocks in the corners, since wind would come with the storm. The only indication of that so far was the open flap of the Anderson family’s 4-man tent gently undulating in a slight breeze.

  Les and Amy were sitting at one of the camp tables and drinking beer when Mandy stopped to warn them. Amy made a move to get up, but Les stopped her with a hand. “There’s plenty of time. Stay and finish your beer with me.”

  She sank back down in her chair but shot a worried glance at their tent.

  “What about your tents?” Paul asked Mandy. “You guides haven’t had time to pitch yours yet.”

  “We’ll pitch them later.” Mandy wondered if they would be doing it in the rain. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “I’m not doing anything now,” he answered. “I can do it.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you,” Mandy said. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, you’re cooking my catfish,” he answered jauntily and started unrolling Rob’s and her tent.

  Catfish. Right! Mandy rushed back to the kitchen area, found Paul’s fish in a pail of river water and went to work gutting and filleting i
t. She tossed the offal into the river so the catfish’s mates could eat it. Then she laid the fillets on the grill pan next to the garlic bread Rob was toasting. She took another glance at the darkening sky while washing the fishy smell off her hands.

  Suddenly a strong gust of wind blew into camp, a harbinger of the dark storm on its heels. The wind whirled along the beach, lifting puffs of sand, while clouds raced overhead, blotting out the sun. The air temperature instantly dropped. Sand-clogged air swirled toward the kitchen.

  “Cover the food,” Mandy yelled while grabbing a couple of skillet lids to clamp over the bread and fish.

  Kendra threw a towel over the huge salad bowl and held it on. Cool dropped a lid on the stuffed shells and marinara sauce. Gonzo laid his arms across the serving table, holding down the red-checked plastic tablecloth and the plates and silverware stacked on it. Rob chased after the trash bag that was rolling along the beach, spilling onion skins and other cuttings as it tumbled.

  Damn it! Mandy knew they would have to pick up every scrap of food later. It was a park regulation, to avoid training wild ravens and squirrels that human campgrounds were a source of food. Before she could think about what to do next, another powerful gust flung grit in their faces. Mandy and the others all squinted and turned away, holding on to whatever they could grab.

  Paul tossed gear into Cool and Gonzo’s tent before the wind could carry it away. The table Les and Amy were sitting at fell over, spilling their beers and eliciting a stream of curses from Les. The cans skittered past Mandy. She hollered at Rob to catch them, too. Smelling burned toast, she risked releasing one of the lids on the grill to quickly turn off the gas before clamping her hand back on the lid.

  Then Les and Amy’s tent blew over. He ran for it, yelling, “God damn it!” and pushed Amy ahead of him. Alice had ushered her parents into their tent and was zipping the fly. Betsy, Viv, and Mo also dove into their tent, but Elsa and Tina were running around after camp chairs and other loose gear tumbling in the wind.

  Thank the river gods for helpful clients. Mandy yelled to them, “Thanks, gals. Dump anything that won’t stay lying down in the sand in Rob’s and my tent!”

  Paul came running up to her, the wind flapping his rain jacket as he struggled to zip it. “Should we eat before the storm rolls in?”

  Rob had rejoined them and was tying the trash bag to a leg of the kitchen table. “If we tried to serve the food now, this wind would blow sand into all of it.”

  “But if it starts raining, the food will get all wet,” Paul shouted above the wind.

  “Better wet than gritty,” Rob replied with a half grin.

  As if on cue, fat drops started plopping on their heads and splashing off the metal pan lids.

  Paul covered his head with his jacket’s hood. “Anything I can do to help?”

  Rob looked at the other guides, who were all too busy protecting the food to protect themselves from the elements. “Where’re your jackets stashed?” he asked.

  After they replied, he sent Paul to Cool and Gonzo’s tent. He went to Mandy’s and his tent to retrieve their coats, then to the gals’ tent, telling them through the flap where to find Kendra’s jacket.

  By the time he and Paul returned with the coats, the rain was pouring down in sheets angled by the wind. Mandy was soaked and chilled to the bone, and both she and Kendra were shivering. Rob and Paul helped everyone on with jackets as best as they could while they kept the food covered.

  Rob sent Paul back to his tent to stay sheltered. The guides, however, were stuck with standing by the food and covering everything as best as they could while waiting out the squall. Mandy hoped it would be a short one while she stood there shivering with water dripping a steady stream off her nose. She could tell the others were equally uncomfortable, but they knew this was a river guide’s lot.

  Finally, after about fifteen minutes, the rain slowed to a drizzle and the wind returned to a light breeze. Mandy looked at the sky, which showed a lighter gray color overhead. The dark band of clouds that had just passed over them lay to the east. Another dark band was headed toward them from the west.

  “It’s now or never,” she said. “How about if we suggest they grab their dinners and eat in their tents?”

  “Let’s do it,” Rob said. He called out, “Dinner! Get it now while it’s still hot!”

  The clients tumbled out of their tents, bundled up in rain jackets and hats, and quickly formed a double buffet line. While Rob suggested they all return to their tents to eat, Mandy realized Alice, Diana and Hal weren’t there yet.

  She went to their tent and asked, “Are you folks going to come eat dinner?”

  “Could you bring it to us?” Alice replied. “We don’t want to get wet.”

  Well, neither did anyone else, Mandy thought as she wrung out her drenched ponytail. But she held her tongue. After all, the Anderson family was suffering a great loss. “Okay.”

  She trudged back to the serving table and filled three plates, then asked Kendra to help her carry them to the Andersons’ tent. While they walked over, Kendra smirked and said, “There’s always one—or three in this case.”

  Mandy shook her head. “They are grieving.”

  Alice opened the tent flap just wide enough to pass the plates through.

  “We’ll come back for them later,” Mandy said to her and returned to the outdoor kitchen. She and the other guides ate standing up, since there was no dry place to sit. Unfortunately, some sand had gotten into the salad, giving it extra crunch, and the garlic bread had burned. Rob tossed the blackened pieces in the trash bag.

  Paul stayed with them and happily chewed his catfish. “Nothing tastes as good as fresh-caught fish, though I prefer trout to bottom feeders. Say, do you think this storm will raise the level of the water in the river?”

  Being the local, Cool answered, “Nah, the Colorado’s too big a

  river for this storm to have much of an impact. We might see some muddier flows coming in from the side canyons tomorrow. They can flash flood in small rainstorms like this. Take a look at Salt Creek when we pass it right after the Loop, and you might see some debris coming out.”

  “Flash flood, huh.” Paul’s eyes widened. “Can they be dangerous?”

  “Hell, yeah, if you get caught in one,” Cool replied. “And they can come from a rainstorm high up on the plateau that you don’t even see or feel down here at river level. One of our J-rig boatmen told me a story about beaching at Range Canyon, which empties into Cataract Canyon. It was a bright sunny afternoon. He was unloading gear when a little boy in the group said, ‘Wow, look at that.’ He was pointing at water pouring over the rim of the canyon at the other end. The boatman said it looked like Niagara Falls.”

  Paul gave out an appreciative whistle.

  Cool nodded. “He grabbed the boy and hollered for everyone to run for the boat. He tossed dry bags on the boat while his clients came running, then high-tailed it out of there. He said thank goodness the engine started on the first crank, because they missed the floodwaters by only about thirty feet. Everyone had to hold on while the gush rocked the boat as it poured into the Colorado. He lost his kitchen box to the flood.”

  “Man, oh man.” Paul eyed the canyon rim above them. “Are we in any danger here?”

  Cool laughed. “No, but I bet we can see some waterfalls.”

  “Great! Where?”

  “I’ll show you.” He dumped his empty plate in the dishwater and gestured for Paul to follow him. After Paul joined him, Cool glanced over his shoulder at Mandy, as if to say, “See? I know how to butter up the clients, men included.”

  Mandy nodded back at him. Yeah, he was entertaining Paul, but now the clean-up crew was one short. She made the rounds of the tents with Kendra, collecting dishes and utensils. Rob and Gonzo dumped the uneaten food in the trash and started packing up. The second squall moved in while they wer
e washing dishes, quickly soaking them all again.

  Kendra started shivering so hard she dropped dishes twice in the sand while transferring them to the dishnet. Mandy peered at Kendra’s face. Her dark lips definitely showed a tinge of blue.

  “We can finish up here,” she said to Kendra. “Why don’t you go put on some dry clothes and entertain your tent mates?”

  “You sure?” Kendra asked reluctantly.

  Rob waved the back of his hand toward the gals’ tent. “We’re sure. Go!”

  She gave them a grateful smile, then trotted off and crawled inside the tent. Soon, Viv came out and loped over to the cooler. She pulled out a box of white wine.

  “Our Kendra’s going to need this to warm up,” she announced before hurrying back to the tent.

  Within minutes, peals of laughter could be heard coming from their tent.

  “Likely excuse,” Gonzo said to Rob with a wink. “They all needed some warming up.”

  “I bet that box is empty by morning,” Rob replied with a grin.

  Gonzo looked wistfully at the tent. “I wish I was sleeping with her instead of with Cool, but I can’t complain too much. Those women are taking good care of her.”

  Cool returned with Paul, who promptly dived into his solo tent to get out of the rain. It was pitched on the opposite side of the kitchen area from the other tents because of his snoring. By then, the cleanup was done, so Rob sent Cool and a bedraggled-looking Gonzo off to their tent. Then Rob pointed at the fire box and started laughing. Mandy’s carefully laid firewood was floating in a two-inch-deep puddle of water.

  With a smile, Mandy said, “I hope none of our clients misses having dessert.”

  “I’m sure they’re happy to be warm and dry,” Rob lifted Mandy’s arm to check her watch. “Even though it’s only eight, I doubt we’ll see anyone until tomorrow morning.”

  Mandy helped Rob stow the trash and food back on the rafts, then crawled into their tent with him. They stripped off their wet clothes and climbed into their sleeping bags which they zipped together. By then, Mandy was shivering again, too, and Rob held her close until she was warm again.

 

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