Ms. Got Rocks

by Jacqueline Colt

“By the time you feed it, you might as well buy your veggies at the stand,” Devlin continued muttering; she could not hear him from across the space.

  “I can’t hear you,” Rocky called over to him.

  “Probably just as well,” he yelled back to her, holding his hand cupped around his mouth like an alpine yodeler.

  Dev had come up to the cabin in the afternoon to bring the tiller and run it for Rocky. This was a really scorcher of a day for the Sierra foothills and they waited until the afternoon breeze off the ocean was moving the air around. The breeze was welcome in the dry foothills, though it was now a hot breeze after passing through the Big Valley below.

  Rocky had worked for two days getting the weeds pulled, and hauled to the dump. She had raked up all the rocks she could. As an after effect, to get the rake and shovel she had to clean out and straighten the shed. Her Father must not have done much of anything the past few years; everything on the home place was neglected.

  “You would think that after all the years there has been a garden spot here; there would not be a rock in the place,” Dev yelled over to his sister.

  The tiller will bring thousands of weed seeds to the soil surface, but it also will bring up the rocks and make the soil looser. Dad spent years when the kids were home, putting compost into this spot of garden. This was not going to be a big size garden, Rocky wanted some tomatoes, carrots, pumpkins, cantaloupe, cucumbers and later on this fall when it cooled down she will plant some broccoli, beets and cabbage.

  Yesterday, Rocky pulled all the empty planting pots out of the shed and scrubbed them. They were now planted with three kinds of lettuce. The pots were standing in a row on the porch where they are shaded and easily watered when the water was hauled to the kitchen.

  Rocky could see why Dad stopped planting a garden. Hand carrying water this far was the pits.

  Last evening at sundown, she pulled the wash tub around to the garden plot, filled everything empty with river water and loaded it onto the truck. She drove the load of jugs around the cabin from the river and dumped them into the wash tub at the garden site making an instant sump.

  Devlin had finished with the tilling, and they were sitting with their feet in the warm water in the wash tub, admiring his rotor tilling work, enjoying the golden light and light breeze playing around the yard.

  “Do you think it is possible to rig something, can I have the dredge pump water out of the river and into something? Anything to eliminate hand carrying the water up here?” Rocky asked.

  “I guess it is possible, but you would have to have something the size of a huge fire hose to have it fit the dredge nozzle. Like something they would use to put out huge structure fires.” Devlin was also wondering now.

  “Well, it was a thought. Probably as illegal as all heck, to pump that water out of the river,” she said.

  “Yeah, probably is.” He agreed.

  “I see you moved the Sun Shower into the house.” Dev said after giving his sister a big grin.

  Rocky lifted her chin toward the big back meadow.

  “I decided that I wasn’t giving the deer any more free shows. It works fine in the bathroom.”

  The bathroom in the cabin was a term used loosely. There was a bathtub shower combo, a toilet and a sink with real faucets. But Dad never hooked them up, never connected anything to the drain field that did not get dug, or the septic tank that never existed.

  There were towel bars and soap dishes, an over the sink mirror and even a snazzy shiny light bar. The city sewer system had not come out this far. Dad told his kids that he would get indoor plumbing when it came time to connect to the city water and sewer.

  Twenty-five years later, he was still hauling water, showering outside under a canvas shower bucket and heating water on the wood stove or by sunshine.

  The money from that big nugget Rocky found was going for sinking a well, getting a pump and then going step by step from there. That is if she stayed in Whiskey Gap.

  “Don’t know if it is possible to get the dredge hose to do it, but maybe we could figure out a way to get the motor to power water up the slope to a holding tank, and then we could gravity feed down into the garden rows,” Devlin pointed out.

  “Sounds like more work than hauling the water in the truck,” Rocky could see the possibilities, however.

  “Yeah, it will be until it is all in place, at the river level you would have to change over to the small adapter to the pipe. The motor itself shouldn’t have any problem getting the water anywhere on the property.”

  “We might have a hundred feet of garden hose, if we rigged them all together.”

  They were now on the move, in bare muddy feet on the baking hot soil, pacing off the distance from the river to the garden spot.

  "What do we have around here that would be big enough for a holding tank?” Devlin had his hot bare feet in the cool river. He was gazing over all the equipment that Dad had accumulated over the years.

  This was the first time that Rocky had really taken notice that the meadow actually looked more like a junkyard,than a country meadow.

  “Dev, I never noticed before what a pack rat Dad was,” she turned in another direction and saw more derelict machinery in a heap.

  “That’s ‘cause we grew up with it, didn’t know there was another way of doing things,” Dev said over his shoulder as he moved toward a big stack of rusty metal things, with river water sloshing from his jeans legs.

  “Of all the rusting shit you’ve got around here Rocky, you would think there would be a metal stock watering trough or something big like that, but no,” Devlin was looking disgusted.

  “The last few years, Dad gathered more and more junk up here, I used to get annoyed with him. He always said, he would never know when he might need something, he bought and stored everything,” Devlin was now sounding more wistful than annoyed.

  “He never used any of it, did he?” Rocky asked.

  “Nope, not that I could ever see, but it made good cover for the birds, the damn mice and rattlesnakes,” Devlin was hiking in the other direction like he spotted something they could use.

  “If you stay around Sis, I hope you will clean up this mess of junk. Too much more stuff and the EPA will be on your tail,” Dev was back to reality from his wistful mood.

  “I’ll keep looking as I work around the piles, there has to be something that will work. I think the basic idea is a good one. Let’s go in and get a cold one, that's enough work for one day,” Rocky was tired, hot, dirty and ready to quit for the day.

  In the past two weeks, the old home place had been jumping. Having decided publicity for the nugget might drive up the price, she got the local newspaper to run a piece on it with her photographs. The Sacramento Bee picked up on that and ran articles on the big gold strike in the gold country. Then a Sacramento TV station came for a short visit.

  Cripes, was that ever a mistake, Rocky had to put a chain and then a gate down at the county road. The nugget attracted flocks of sightseers coming to see it. Some wanted Rocky to take them underwater where they too could dredge and get a big nugget. The place was insane for several days until someone else caught the public's’ fancy.

  Rocky got spooky enough that she had Margie go with her to the bank safe deposit box with the nugget. They felt like the old Wells Fargo Express in a red SUV.

  The newspaper spreads did not get any feelers from big time buyers for the nugget.

  Ironically, a geologist friend of Devlin in Baltimore, Maryland made Rocky a stunning offer. The geologist was going to donate the nugget to the Mining School at his Alma Mater.

  Rocky instantly accepted his offer. She would rather be wearing it around her neck, but a new well was a new well.

  Three days later, the well drillers were on the property and the cabin had a new well, with casings. But there was not enough money for a pump and piping to the house, therefore still no running water. The dogs also got their rewards from the sale of the monster nugget. Rocky stocked up a
t Costco on a cheddar cheese wheel and a supply of dog food so huge that she had to buy new garbage cans to store it all in the pantry.

  Still there were no calls for a job interview from the airlines. Rocky felt she was glued to square one.

  Rocky told herself she should feel really upset and maybe angry that she was not good enough to even get one airline interview. However, she was not feeling that way at all which was a very odd reaction for someone who desperately needed to earn a living.

  More good news happened, Rocky had figured out how to rig up Devlin’s idea to get running water to the house using the new well and the dredge motor.

  Rocky squeezed enough money out of the nugget sale to get an inexpensive but quality digital camera, which happened in the most roundabout way.

  Couple of evenings ago, Rocky was sitting on the bottom porch step after being in the water all day. She was trying to get the prune wrinkles out of her feet and hands and enjoying a Popsicle before dinner.

  Someone was laying on the vehicle horn down at the gate.

  “Okay, keep your shirt on,” Rocky yelled from the porch while stuffing her feet in the new flip flops from the Dollar store in Auburn.

  She dragged her tired body over to the edge of the meadow. The Sheriff squad car was pulled right up to the gate. It was Deputy Justin Dixon.

  He may have news regarding Callaghan and the claim-jumping incident. Rocky walked down to the gate and rode back to the porch with him.

  “I came up to see that you were all right. It has been pretty busy around here, I’ve been cruising by each shift.” Deputy Dixon hesitantly explained as they settled on the porch lawn chairs. “I haven’t seen Callaghan around town either.” he pointed out.

  After getting each of them an iced tea, Rocky told Justin that she was looking for a camera, but had only a little money to spend, just the change from paying for the well.

  “Did you look down at MacPawn’s for a camera?” Justin was asking.

  “No, I would not go into one of those places,” Rocky was shocked he would suggest it, and she guessed she looked it,too.

  “What’s with the “one of those places” thing, it isn’t a whorehouse, it is a pawnshop,” the Deputy said. "My Dad was straight arrow."

  “We used to go buy tools there, and I’ve always seen lots of cameras. Nice looking ones too. If you’re a ‘fraidy cat, I’ll go with you,” Deputy Justin said.

  “Get a couple of little nuggets together, MacPawn will probably trade for them,” Justin was laughing at her, but she had no intention of going by herself.

  “You mean, if I ever get any nuggets,” Rocky said, not mentioning the jelly jar that was a little fuller each day.

  “What do you mean, no nuggets, I saw the monster, remember, Clancy ah, I mean Hardwyn,” he said changing to her still married name. "Keep your eyes open when you are working around here, your Dad was a pack rat and squirreled away his gold,” Tony seemed to have known Dad better than Rocky thought he did.

  “Margie and Dev probably found all of it, when they had to pay the nursing home,” he speculated.

  “But with Dad you’d never know,” Rocky granted. “That is one of the reasons, when they were paying his last bills, Margie defrosted the refrigerator. She thought cold, hard cash would appeal to his sense of humor. But there wasn’t anything there, except frozen orange juice and flashlight batteries,” Rocky said.

  Deputy Justin and Rocky made a sort of date to go to the pawnshop and have lunch the next day, his day off. Rocky was ready to ask him to stay for dinner, when he got a Sheriff Office call and had to leave.

  Relaxing on the porch watching the big summer moon, she remembered Justin from high school; he was always a nice guy. Good in sports and smart in math. After soon to be ex-husband Tony, all regular looking, not spectacular, nice guys were becoming very appealing.

  “Maybe I don’t care that the airlines don’t hire me,” she informed that big man in the moon.

  The next day, Justin and Rocky decided that at their advanced age, pizza did not count as date food. They enjoyed a Pepperoni and Mushroom large one, without pressure, laughing and joking all the way.

  Afterward, they went to MacPawn's in Applegate. That place was like a big, clean, candy store for photographers. Justin told Rocky that he came in there once a week and checked for items on his stolen goods list. He also told her he never found any stolen goods there. She felt that she was safe purchasing a beauty of a camera for hardly anything.

  In return for the favor, Rocky promised to take pictures of Justin's two dogs for his Christmas card.

  Chapter 14

  The day was going along as she planned, moving one boulder, stone, and rock from the face of the active dredging area to the side. Always remembering not to put the rubble behind her where she would have to move that same rock out of her way tomorrow.

  This was the most boring and most essential part of production gold dredging, having a plan for moving rubble and then actually moving rubble. Rocky did it, but it was as close to digging a ditch with her hands from here to China as she ever wished to get.

  Rocky was actually thinking about lunch, nothing like pitching rocks, even underwater, to give a woman an appetite.

  Over the noise of the dredge bubbling and the hookah gurgling and the sound of the river moving over the rocks, Rocky thought she could hear Lovie barking.

  In the past few days Lovie had discovered lodge pole squirrels and she was getting hoarse from barking at them. The squirrel game is run away from her and then run right back. The game began anew to the delight of all.

  Rocky was sure that was what the dog was barking about. If it was that jerk Callaghan sneaking around again, Phoebe would begin to bark and take him down.

  Rocky told herself that she would listen until she got this one boulder moved and then she would surface and take a look.

  Rocky was still thinking about lunch, settled on having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and saving the salad for dinner. She was barely putting any force on that one foot across boulder and the damn thing seemed to want to roll away from her.

  “Wait, that boulder isn’t moving, I am,”

  She looked over her shoulder and all the tie downs and anchor lines were trailing free from the dredge frame, free in the river current. The only thing attaching Rocky to the dredge was her air hose and lifeline rope. She was being slowly dragged away from the rock face, out into the main river current. As soon as the dredge moved out into the main current of the river, the dredge on pontoons and Rocky would not be moving slowly at all.

  Rocky was in grave danger of being caught up in the trailing lines and not being able to surface as the current rolled her around and downriver to the rapids before the bridge abutments.

  Rocky could feel the current pulling her faster, away from the riverbank. Suddenly the lines holding her to the dredge snapped tight as the dredge was whipped into the main current and the eighteen foot long dredge spun away. Her body was the only anchor.

  She slammed her pickaxe into the river bottom, hoping that it and her body would hold against the current. The current was strong enough that the dredge had now turned around and was spinning to the left and the pickaxe was whipped out of the soft mud of the bottom.

  The snap into the main current had wrapped one of the trailing ropes loosely onto her arm and twirled her in the current while she watched the line tighten around her arm.

  “No, this is not going to happen,” she thought. “I am not in trouble.” Rocky grew up in this river and underwater half the time at that. She grabbed the line around her arm, and forced it loose and watched as it floated away from her into the quickening current.

  She had the hookah mouthpiece firmly clamped in her teeth; there was plenty of gas in the dredging motor pumping air into the hookah. The only danger was panicking and becoming tangled into those ropes before she could get herself onto the dredge body, or being slammed into the huge rocks that protect the rapids before the river reached the
bridge. If she cannot get herself out of this before getting to the bridge, then and only then was she in big deep trouble.

  Rocky wanted to force herself down to the river bottom rather than up. As the eight inch heavy brass dredge nozzle swung by her, she grabbed it and it helped take her down to the deepening river bottom, where the current was not as strong.

  She took two deep drags on the air hookah to calm herself.

  She said around her mouthpiece, “I’m all right.”

  Unclasping the heavy divers’ weight belt, she rolled into a cannonball position on the bottom. While kicking off from the bottom, the heavy belt dropped off her, clipping her right knee.

  She rapidly shot toward the surface throwing the brass dredge hose nozzle away from her body as she ascended. The heavy nozzle could not swing around and hit her from that position.

  On the way to the surface, the big corrugated dredge hose passed right in front of her following its attached nozzle. Rocky grabbed it and clutched it to her chest. She could climb that hose to the surface, it would easily hold her. The brass nozzle that was bumping along on the river bottom and her weight would keep the hose from bouncing back and hitting her as well.

  After ripping off her wet suit booties with one hand she could use her bare feet and hands to climb. Moving up the twenty feet of dredge hose was a lot easier than she thought it would be, and within moments she was hanging across the sun baked hot pontoon on the sparkling surface of the American River.

  As much as she wanted to lie there, there was still the problem of getting the dredge out of the mainstream of the river.

  Rocky felt something really warm down in her wet suit. She was peeing on herself. The wetness on her face, was not entirely river water, as she watched the dredge scuttle toward this monster of a rock. She would be kissing the dredge goodbye, if it hit that twenty-foot tall boulder straight on.

  “Oh God, hold on,” she yelled to nobody when the pontoons entered a whirlpool and the dredge and Rocky were spinning again, and whipping toward the boulder. There was no way to miss it.

  Seconds later Rocky was slammed into the face of that granite rock. She was determined to hang on to it no matter what. The dredge was ripped out from under her and flung away.