Camp Life

by Lucinda Maison

  The roan remained with his rump facing the stall door, but craned his neck around to look at Ron. He seemed to debate whether moving was a good thing or not, then slowly shifted, presenting his head for Ron to scratch. Ron obliged, introducing him to Sarah and Jake at the same time. “He likes it if you scratch along his jaw, here, see? You want to try it?” He stepped aside so Jake could take his place nearest the horse.

  Jake used his long fingers in what must have been just the spot because Squidward leaned his head into Jake’s hand (his head was heavy! Jake thought) then stretched out his neck, upper lip lifting to bare his teeth in what passed for horsey ecstasy, Jake guessed. He shook his head, while Sarah laughed. Ron clipped a rope on Squidward’s halter and opened the door to lead him out.

  The sun shone hot and bright as the horses walked single file along a narrow path. Jake was beginning to relax, having spent the first 15 minutes or so concentrating fiercely on Squidward’s every twitch and movement beneath him. He settled in the saddle and could feel some of the tension easing out of his thighs and hands. The horse seemed to pay no attention, ears forward, following along behind Nate, who trailed Ron and his black mare in the lead.

  Jake heard Sarah addressing remarks alternately to Ron and to Nate, questions to the one and flattery to the other. Ron answered in his slow, deep drawl, Nate to all appearances ignoring her blandishments. One comment caught Jake’s attention. Sarah had said something about “When I turned 13,...” She was his age? he thought. Vertically challenged, that was for sure.

  There was another boy behind Jake, one he hadn’t seen before. He was older than Jake, taller and with a lot more muscle, with spiky brown hair hanging over his eyes. Ron had called him Drew. He hadn’t said much, just seemed to be looking around at everyone and everything. Apparently, he knew how to ride, since Ron had given him a horse called “Mischief”. When Ron twisted around in his saddle and called back, asking if everyone was OK, Drew gave a little hand wave, but remained silent. Jake nodded, and Sarah gave an emphatic “Yes!”

  Ron’s mare veered to the left onto another path, this one heading upward between large boulders that obscured the surrounding countryside, except for the tops of the oaks and the taller mesquite. They leveled off for a short distance, then began to wind down the trail, the horses picking their way carefully on the rocky slope. Jake was focused on watching where Squid put his feet when he heard Sarah gasp. He looked up quickly and was surprised to see that the view had opened up, revealing rolling hills falling away from them into the distance. Close at hand, spiky blue wildflowers accented the green of a meadow flanked by oaks and some trees he’d never seen before. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly at the heady scent of trees, sun-warmed grass, and horse. He felt...peaceful, grateful, somehow.

  Drew gazed around the meadow, a smile of deep satisfaction playing across his mouth. His eyes were drawn to a flat-topped rock a little bigger than a hot tub. It looked as if it had been dropped from some giant crane into the middle of the meadow. The pale stone appeared relatively smooth, lichen grew in patches here and there, and stalks of wild buckwheat fringed the side facing the hills. Drew’s fingers twitched and he glanced down at them, mildly surprised to find that they didn’t hold a pencil or piece of charcoal. He let out a sigh, then concentrated on taking in the whole scene, memorizing the subtle shades of the stone, the stillness of the trees, the shady spots and the light gilding the rich blue of a flower he did not recognize, and another plant with many small branches topped by pink blooms. He barely heard Ron, who was saying something about the horses. He paid no heed, the meadow before him holding his absolute attention.

  Fingers closed around his calf and gave it a quick shake and Drew jumped halfway out of his saddle. He looked down to find the girl, Sarah, smiling up at him.

  “Are you going to dream all day or do you want to come explore?”

  “What?” he blinked, looking around dazedly. The other horses were standing in the shade, tied to a rope strung between two trees, and Ron was motioning him over. He dismounted, nodding his thanks to Sarah, and led Mischief over to the others. The horse seemed happy to be out of the sun and not moving.

  When he turned around, Drew didn’t see the kid with the big chip on his shoulder, Jake. Sarah was nowhere in sight either. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring along some paper and his pencils, then shook it off, striding over to explore the first thing that had captured his imagination, the big flat rock.

  Where was it coming from? Jake wondered. Must be a creek nearby, he thought, with growing excitement. Cocking his head and closing his eyes, he pivoted slowly, zeroing in on the sound, then opened his eyes. Looking down, he smiled ruefully. Brilliant. The path that began at his feet was barely a foot wide, but clearly visible as it led through the trees. Long strides carried him quickly forward and in a very short time he saw the ridge of brush that must border the creek. Jake pushed through a sparse spot and stopped abruptly, just in time to keep his feet from getting wet.

  It was so clear! he marveled. Small stones of ochre, black, gray, and gold were visible on the streambed. The water rushed between a jumble of boulders to fall splashing and gurgling into the small pool below, then down a short incline, turning to the right before disappearing from view. The sounds brought a smile to Jake’s lips. He wondered if there were any trout, then decided the creek was too small for anything but guppies...or polywogs. On impulse, he plopped down on a rock, yanked off his shoes and socks, and rolled his jeans up to mid-calf. Stepping gingerly from his rock to another edging the creek, he sat down again and eased his feet into the water. It was cold, but not that bone-chilling cold of a stream fed by snowmelt. Of course, it wasn’t like it was a thermal spring, either. Jake and his mom had visited the Hay-Yo-Kay Hot Springs in Truth or Consequences and he remembered this guy telling them that the water was anywhere from 98-108 degrees Fahrenheit. This was nowhere close.

  Jake sighed and let the tension drain from his shoulders and the rest of his body. The sun broke through in patches, warming his face, and he lay back on the rock with his feet still dangling in the water.

  Drew stood on top of the rock, which wasn’t as flat as it appeared from horseback across the meadow. It was actually a little rounded. On the side that was previously blocked from view, he could see that a neat spear of rock had separated from the main body and rested on its side, resembling a slice of bread fallen away from the loaf. Still standing on the larger rock, he stooped down and ran his hand over the surface, noticing that up close it was flecked with black and gold. It felt very warm and he lay down on his stomach, using his crossed arms as a pillow.

  It seemed like only moments later that he heard a soft scraping noise. Without lifting his head, he opened his eyes and was confronted by a pair of pink Converse low tops. “What is it with you guys?” Sarah’s voice demanded from somewhere above him. “We get to explore this great place and all of you just sack out! Jake’s snoozing down by the creek, you’re here, and Ron’s conked out in the grass.

  Drew moved his head a little in the direction Sarah was gesturing. He couldn’t see Ron, but he spotted the brim of a John Deere ball cap and a solitary stalk of grass that reached higher than the rest, the other end of which Drew would bet was stuck in Ron’s mouth. He squinted up at Sarah with one eye.

  “Find anything?” he inquired, slowly pushing himself up to stand beside her.

  “I almost caught a little whiptail over by that log,” she said, obviously expecting him to be impressed with her find.

  Drew looked down at her gravely. “And a whiptail would be...?”

  She opened her eyes wide. “A lizard, of course!”

  “You like to catch lizards?” he asked doubtfully.

  Sarah wrinkled her forehead, saying “Ye-ah”, but clearly meaning “Doesn’t everyone?”. “Don’t you like lizards?”

  “Yeah, actually, I do. I just don’t pay much attention to what the different kinds are called. The one I like i
s a horny toad.”

  Her mouth drew down at the corners. “It’s a horned toad, not a horny toad!” she corrected sternly.

  “Whatever. I used to catch them and stroke their stomachs and they’d go to sleep. I never have seen one do that blood-squirting thing they’re supposed to do. Do they really do that?”

  Sarah nodded. “Only some species can squirt blood from their eyes. It’s a defense mechanism. It must taste really bad, because it makes a predator let go of them...They are really cute!” she added.

  Drew gave a short laugh. A cute, blood-squirting lizard.

  A few minutes later, a pair of boots thumped down next to them as Ron jumped up on the rock. “Hey, you two. What do you think of this?” He swept an arm around to encompass the meadow, trees, and hills beyond.

  They voiced their appreciation, Sarah of the flowers and lizard, Drew of the whole picture the view presented.

  Ron sighed a happy sigh. “I love the peace of this place.” He reached down and picked up the saddlebags they hadn’t seen him drop. “Jake will be here in a minute. He’s been snoozing by the creek (only Ron pronounced it “crick”) and his toes are pickled.”

  “I’ve got a few snacks in here.” He pulled a bag of quartered apples, another of thick cheese slices, and some peanut butter crackers from one side, and 4 water bottles from the other.

  Jake strode up and stood apart at the base of the rock until entreated by Sarah to join them. His eyes had zeroed in on the food and he realized it had been almost 2 hours since he’d last eaten. He was starved.

  It wasn’t until he stepped up on the rock that the others noticed he carried something yellow and round beneath his arm. It looked kind of like a giant, greenish-yellow wrinkly grapefruit, about the size of a soccer ball.

  “What the heck is that?”, Sarah asked, pointing at it as Jake plopped down on the rock and set it down beside him.

  Jake glanced down as though he’d forgotten he had it. He picked it up again and held it out for the others to see. “I don’t know. It’s weird looking, isn’t it? I found it down by the creek. There’s a bunch of them under the trees near the water.”

  “Now, that’s about the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” Ron commented, reaching out to take it from Jake. He hefted it a couple of times and turned it round and round, then passed it to Drew, who was staring in fascination.

  “What is it?” he asked, echoing Sarah.

  “It’s a horse apple,” Ron replied.

  Drew shook his head. “If that’s a horse apple, I’d like to see the horse that dropped it,” he said dryly.

  Ron laughed, while the others looked confused. “Not horse manure, no. It’s actually fruit from a bois d’arc tree.”

  “Bow dark?” repeated Jake.

  Ron nodded. “Yep. Those trees you saw down by the creek are bois d’arc trees. They have an interesting history around here. I’ll tell you about it, but I need fuel first. Let’s eat.”

  Ron grabbed a hunk of cheese, paired it with an apple slice and popped the whole thing in his mouth, washing it down with a gulp of water. He watched Jake fall hungrily upon the pile of peanut butter crackers, and smiled briefly, remembering what it was like to have a 13-year-old boy’s stomach. “That creek where Jake was soaking his feet,” he began, “is called “No-Name”.

  “The name is No-Name?” asked Sarah.

  “Who’s on first?” Ron replied. Drew got the joke and smiled, but not the other two, who must not have been Abbott and Costello fans. “Yes, the name is No-Name. It may have had a Native American name, but the white settlers didn’t know it if it did.” He paused for another bite of cheese. Swallowing, he continued. “All they knew was that it was an important source of water in these parts. Well, three groups of people wanted to do different things with this water.” He leaned back on his hands, staring into the distance.

  Drew had watched his grandfather spin yarns in just this way, and he appreciated Ron, the storyteller, as much as he liked Ron, the horseman, and Ron, the burned-marshmallow-eater. He noticed that Ron’s Texas accent seemed to have thickened as he began his story.

  “Well, these people couldn’t be more different from each other, not physically, mind you, but in their approach to life. One group was a ranching family who lived down in the valley, and they owned the bottom half of this stretch. Their name was Win Win. They, this man and two of his sons, wanted the water for their cattle and horses. They pastured their stock up here and needed the creek to flow freely.”

  “Another family owned the stretch of land higher up the hill, above the Win Wins. These people I’ll call the I Got Mines. Now, the I Got Mines were fixin’ to divert the creek and create a pond. They did a little farming up on the hill and thought they could use more water for their crops and as a bonus, the pond would be good for raising geese.” He paused, running a hand down his chest, currently sporting a picture of Mr. Bubble, and took a slow sip of water.

  “You can see what the problem might be here. If the I Got Mines had their way, then...

  “Wait, you said there were 3 groups!” Sarah interjected.

  “Oh, you’re right, there was another group,” Ron agreed, as if he’d just remembered. “It was Mr. Win Wins’ eldest son, Do Nothing, and a friend of his, Sit On It.”

  Jake crossed his arms, lip curling contemptuously. “Do Nothing Win Win and Sit On It?”

  “Actually, no,” Ron replied seriously. Do Nothing wasn’t really a Win Win. He came to live with them when he was about 15 years old, after his family died from the fever one winter. There was no one else to care for him, so Mr. Win Win took him in and raised him with his other boys, twins a couple of years younger than Do Nothing.” He sat up and fortified himself with another slice of apple.

  “You might think Do Nothing would be right grateful to Mr. Win Win, but instead, he hated him and everything Win Win. He didn’t like anything Mr. Win Win or his sons did, said, or believed in...No, Do Nothing Happens...did I tell you his last name was Happens?” Sarah shook her head, rolling her eyes.

  “Anyway, Do Nothing was just contrary as could be, as far as the rest of the Win Win family was concerned. They showed him kindness, tried to make him part of the family, but Do Nothing wanted nothing to do with it, if you’ll excuse the pun.” Drew groaned. Ignoring this, Ron went on.

  “He and Sit On It figured there had to be a way to make a pile of money out of that creek, but they didn’t quite know how. They didn’t like ranching, gettin’ up early, taking care of stock, mending fences, and the like, and they surely didn’t want to waste time farming or raising critters of any kind. That neither of them owned a drop of that water didn’t seem to bother them. Do Nothing thought he was owed a big part of it, seeing as how he had to put up with the Win Wins all those years and after all, he was the eldest. It seemed like the creek was just about his already.”

  “How could he possibly believe that?” Sarah exclaimed indignantly.

  Ron shook his head, compressing his lips. “What some people believe has nothing to do with the way things really are, all logic and proof to the contrary. There are some people you cannot reason with. All you can do is recognize when that’s how a person operates, and choose to spend your time with somebody else instead...Unless you like bringing grief on yourself.” He shrugged.

  “But the Win Wins couldn’t avoid this guy and his friend, though, right?” asked Drew. “I mean, they weren’t going to just go away...And how did they think they’d make money off it, anyway?”

  “You got that right. The way those boys were, they wouldn’t have just faded away. No, that would have been convenient, but highly unlike them to be so obliging.”

  “Anyway,” Ron said after a short pause, “they had what they thought was a plan, but they hadn’t really thought it through. They figured they’d somehow get rights to the creek and then maybe sell it to a rival rancher, someone with bags of money who wanted more land with water rights. There was such a man and his land did border the Win
Win’s, but he’d never shown any interest in the land or No Name creek. He had fish to fry on the other side of the valley, where he owned a lake and several mines.”

  He took another swig of water. “Do Nothing and Sit On It had ambition, but no vision of how they were going to get rights to the creek away from the I Got Mines and the Win Wins, and they hadn’t bothered to find out if the rancher who owned the lake was even interested in the creek.”

  “What was that guy’s name, Go Jump In The...?” interrupted Jake sardonically.

  Ron appeared to give this some consideration. “Actually,” he began…

  Drew groaned again in anticipation, but all Ron said was “I don’t really remember his name...but I’m sure it must have been something like that.”

  Jake’s eyes went wide with surprise, but he didn’t comment further.

  “Where was I? Oh, yeah, those two boys didn’t know and didn’t go to the trouble of finding out that the lake owner couldn’t care less about that little creek or the land it ran though.”

  Ron looked down for a peanut butter cracker and saw only crumbs. He glanced up to see Jake scanning the rock hopefully for any particle of food that may have been missed. Ron reached into the saddlebag for his backup snack, a bag of his favorite Teriyaki Turkey Jerky. Pulling it free, he handed it to Jake. “Share,” he admonished.

  He was surprised to see an impish grin form on Jake’s face. Jake accepted the bag, opened it with a flourish, and magnanimously offered it first to Sarah, then Drew, then Ron, before extracting a very large piece for himself. He then settled down happily like a dog with a piece of rawhide, apparently waiting for Ron to go on with the story.

  Biting into his jerky and chewing slowly, Ron continued. “Meanwhile, the I Got Mines proceeded with their plans for a pond. They started digging where the pond would go, building up embankments, and creating a sluiceway, preparing to divert the stream. Now, Mr. Win Win had already traveled up the hill once to talk with Mr. I Got Mine about the problems his plans would cause downstream. Mr. I Got Mine heard him out, but bottom line, he was going to take care of his own. If it hurt Mr. Win Win, well, that’s the way the cookie crumbled.” He looked up, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. “The I Got Mines had a son, too, and he felt just like his parents. He was called...”