Touching Cottonwood

by Randall Simpson

  Twenty-One

  Amanda & Chelsea

  Even the simplest of towns have a social hierarchy—a so-called pecking order, whereby some families receive a higher status in the scheme of things. Usually wealth is the primary determining factor in laying out the social order; however, other factors can include occupation, notoriety, community involvement, and so forth. In Cottonwood, at the top of the social order was the Reese Family. As the director of the town’s major employer, Dr. Paul Reese naturally received a great deal of attention. Besides being the director of the Colorado State Home for the Developmentally Disabled, he was friendly and outgoing. Everyone who knew him respected and liked him.

  But the Reese family’s status was doubly assured by Dr. Reese’s wife, Amanda. She was beautiful, also well-educated, and extremely social. There were few civic organizations or causes that Amanda Reese did not get involved in. Almost instantly, upon Dr. Reese’s appointment as director of the Home and Amanda’s arrival in Cottonwood, she became the center of the social circle. Their very first Christmas in town, the Reese family threw a splendid and well-attended party, which was among the finest that Cottonwood had ever seen, and that party was followed by the same type of event every Christmas, as well as several other times sprinkled throughout the year.

  The final member of the Reese family was seventeen-year-old Chelsea. Though she had come from a larger city and could have easily become an outsider amongst her peers, her outgoing personality wouldn’t allow it. She was as beautiful and intelligent as her mother and was an exceptionally gifted athlete. She quickly became a star in team sports at school, receiving notoriety and recognition across the region. Though her parents could afford to send her to the finest college or university someday, Chelsea Reese would undoubtedly have her choice of athletic scholarships to choose from when the time came.

  Though no one could mistake the fact that Chelsea and Amanda were mother and daughter in looks, poise, and beauty—there were important differences. During several of the well-attended social occasions at the Reese’s household, Chelsea had overheard her mother quietly gossiping to some friend or another she had pulled aside. This penchant for “private” gossip may in some ways have increased Amanda’s social standing, but Chelsea found it distasteful. Chelsea also had no desire to be the center of attention, though she often was because of her athletic ability. She did not seek out notoriety—Amanda Reese, however, thrived on it.

  With the mild state of panic erupting in town over the stalled vehicles and stranded motorists, Amanda and Chelsea Reese thought it was the perfect time to take one of their long bike rides. Several times a week during the summer, the women would ride for miles, exploring the many trails that crisscrossed the countryside around Cottonwood. These bike rides were Amanda’s major source of exercise, keeping her in excellent condition, but for Chelsea, who played on several summer sports teams, the extra conditioning was nice, but she thought the bike rides were leisurely fun and a good way to spend time with her mother—away from the gossip circle.

  On this particular day, Amanda let Chelsea pick the trail they would follow. Because of the afternoon heat, Chelsea thought the trail that ran along the Little Bear River might offer some relief. The trail started in McCann Park and headed up north, snaking along the river before branching off in two directions. One of the branches continued along the river toward the northeast up to Abyss Falls, while the other traveled toward the west and then northwest toward the highway.

  With Chelsea leading the way, the two ladies pedaled out of their driveway and headed down the street toward Second Street. As they were turning right onto Second Street, Chelsea screamed, “Mom, look out!”

  A very large man riding an undersized bike was heading directly toward them. Instinctively, Chelsea swerved to the right, onto a corner lawn, and Amanda swerved left, out into the middle of Second Street. The very large man was Sheriff O’Neil. Shakily, and nearly falling off, he managed to bring his bike to a stop.

  “Sorry about that,” Sheriff O’Neil said as he brought his bike around to where Amanda and Chelsea had stopped.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on a bike before, John,” said Amanda. She looked down at the small bike he was straddling and then back to Sheriff O’Neil. “And isn’t that bike a bit small for you?”

  “Yeah, it’s on the small side, I suppose, but it’s all I could find in a pinch. I got it from impound down at the office. It’s small, but it beats walking.”

  “Are you planning on patrolling the whole town on a bike?” asked Amanda.

  “Uh, I hope not. I was really just out here trying to get used to the darn thing—in case we get some call and need to be somewhere fast. It’s all we’ve got right now, and it’s been a few years since I was on one of these.”

  Just then, Sheriff O’Neil’s radio crackled with a call. It was Sparky. “Sheriff, what’s your location?” he asked.

  Sheriff O’Neil took one hand off the handle bar and pushed the button on his microphone. “I’m at the corner of Second and Birch.”

  “Well, I’m back at the office and mission accomplished—I’ve secured an operational vehicle.”

  “You did?!” asked the sheriff. “Nice job, Sparky. Stay there and I’ll head right back.”

  Sheriff O’Neil released the button on the radio and looked back at Amanda and Chelsea. “Well, it looks like my bicycle riding days will be short-lived, and considering our near miss here, I think that’s a good thing.” Sheriff O’Neil put his foot up on the pedal to head away. “You two enjoy your bike ride, and remember to keep your eyes and ears open. There are apt to be lots of strangers in town right now, with all the stranded motorists and all. You just can never be too careful.”

  “Thanks, but I think the sooner you get off that bike, the safer we’ll all be,” Amanda said with a smile.

  “Yeah, you got that right,” said the sheriff as he pedaled away going west on Second Street toward his office. He was still wobbly and out of control. Amanda and Chelsea smiled at each other as they watched him and then pedaled off in the opposite direction toward McCann Park.

  By bike it was a quick trip down Second Street to McCann Park. The trail started near the river, very close to the green bench where Old Blind Carl could often be seen sitting, listening to the river. As Amanda and Chelsea arrived at the park, the bench was empty, but Chelsea noticed something leaning against the front of the bench. From a distance, it looked like a stick, but as she pedaled over to it, it was obviously not a stick at all.

  “Mom,” said Chelsea, stopping and picking up the cane. “Isn’t this Old Blind Carl’s cane?”

  Amanda caught up to her daughter and took the cane from her, inspecting it carefully. “Yeah, it sure looks like it. In fact, I’m sure it is.”

  “Why would it be out here? He’s always got it with him, doesn’t he?” asked Chelsea, looking around the area.

  Amanda also scanned the immediate area from the bench down to the river and the perimeter around the bench. There was no one around.

  “Maybe he accidentally left it here or even got a new one—this one does look pretty old,” Amanda said.

  Chelsea wasn’t buying her mother’s attempt to smooth over her concern. She looked once more toward the river and then back to the cane in her mother’s hand. “I don’t know…it just doesn’t feel that way to me. It feels like something weird’s going on here. I’ve never seen Old Blind Carl without that cane. Maybe something’s happened to him.” Chelsea looked once more toward the river and stared.

  “Do you feel like going back to town to see if we can find him?” asked Amanda.

  Chelsea paused for a moment. “I don’t know. I know you were looking forward to this bike ride. What do you think we should do?”

  “I think we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions,” said Amanda as she leaned the cane back against the bench. “For now, why don’t we leave the cane right where it was. Maybe he forgot it, and he’ll come back here to get it. If it’s
still here when we get back, we’ll take it into town and look for him.”

  “Okay,” said Chelsea, staring at the cane. “That’s a good idea, but let’s not forget to check when we come back. Let’s go.” Chelsea pedaled away quickly up the trail, with Amanda following behind.

  As the trail snaked along the Little Bear River, it was composed of a constant series of steep hills and twists and turns. It was a moderately difficult trail, requiring a rider to pay close attention to the trail itself and not the river. With a slight loss of focus, a biker could easily go right off the edge, down the steep embankment into the river.

  After fifteen minutes or so of riding along the trail, something moving down below in the river caught Chelsea’s attention. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but then it was more than apparent—shockingly apparent. There was a nude man bathing himself in the river. Chelsea stopped her bike, and her mother stopped behind her. They were up on a small bluff that overlooked the river below and were partially hidden by some trees.

  “Mom,” said Chelsea quietly. “That guy’s completely naked!”

  Amanda peered down at the fully natural bather below. Though his back was to them and he had longer hair, from his muscular back and broad shoulders, it was pretty obvious he was man, and from his half-exposed derrière, it was plain he wasn’t wearing any bathing trunks.

  “Uh, yep…I’d say so,” Amanda whispered back to Chelsea.

  “What do we do?” asked Chelsea.

  “What do you mean, what do we do?”

  “Well look,” said Chelsea, pointing ahead and down the trail. “We have to go right by him if we keep on going up the trail in this direction.”

  Amanda nodded. To go forward was to go by the spot in the river where the naked man was bathing. To turn around was to cut their bike trip short.

  “Whatever you want to do,” said Amanda. “But I’ve hardly broken a sweat so far. I don’t want this rude man interrupting my workout. But I’ll tell you one thing, young lady, if we go forward past this guy, I expect you to ride very fast…and you’d better be keeping your eyes on the trail.”

  “Got it,” said Chelsea. “Eyes forward, let’s go!”

  Chelsea headed down the trail toward the river like a racer in the last mile of the Tour de France. Amanda did well to keep up but was still a few hundred feet behind her. Just as Chelsea got to the bottom of the hill and the closest approach to where the bather was in the stream, instincts took over, and she just couldn’t resist taking one very quick glance toward the bather. You could blame it on curiosity or the hormones of a seventeen-year-old girl, but glance she did. The glance was somehow perfectly timed, or for Chelsea—absolutely horribly timed. The moment she glanced toward the bather, almost as if the man sensed she was taking a peek, he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder, giving Chelsea a very small though noticeable smile.

  Her already rushing emotions became a whirlwind. It kicked her adrenaline into overdrive, and she started pedaling even faster up the next hill. She didn’t dare stop or tell her mother anything. She rode faster and pedaled harder than she ever had along this trail in the many years she’d been riding it. She didn’t even bother to look back to see if her mother was keeping up. Chelsea wanted distance between her and that man. How dare he actually smile at her! While naked!

  Four miles later, Chelsea came to the end of the trail. It ended at one of the most magnificent waterfalls in Colorado and the Rocky Mountain region. Abyss Falls was one of the most visited tourist sites in the area, as it was where the Little Bear River made a spectacular plummet of three hundred and twenty-five feet. The top of the falls was in sunlight most of the day, and the bottom was constantly covered in mist as the water crashed and broke on the jagged rocks.

  Chelsea knew this spot well, for it was where they always stopped and rested before making the trip back to Cottonwood. On the opposite side of the trail, across from where Chelsea had rested her bike and was leaning against a tree, was a large and flat rock that extended out from the trail and overlooked the falls. It was appropriately named “Flat Rock” by the locals, and many a stunning photograph of the falls had been taken from that rock. Chelsea, however, avoided Flat Rock at all times. During her first summer in Cottonwood when Chelsea was only seven, her father had led her by the hand to the edge of Flat Rock to look over at the mist below. Though they were never in any real danger, in looking down, she suddenly felt dizzy and nearly fainted. Her father quickly picked her up and moved her away from the edge, but the experience had terrified her, and she had avoided the rock ever since.

  Though the ride had been fast and the day was still warm, Chelsea didn’t feel tired at all. There was a certain added energy to her normal vitality, as something other than the bike ride was on her mind. That man! A stranger! Nude in our river, and on top of that, he had the nerve to smile!

  Ten minutes later, Amanda pedaled up the trail, panting heavily. Chelsea watched her mother dismount her bike and rest it on the hillside next to hers. Winded and spent, Amanda walked over and plopped down on the ground, leaning against a tree across from Chelsea.

  “Now that was interesting,” said Amanda, undoing the straps on her bike helmet. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “That man was so rude!” said Chelsea as she stared out at the sunlit top of the falls.

  “Are you still thinking about that?” asked Amanda, still trying to fully catch her breath.

  “This is our river!” said Chelsea, finally looking at her mother. “Why would he think he has the right to do that?! Why couldn’t he take his clothes off somewhere else—in private?”

  “Well,” Amanda began, “I’m not saying what he did was right, because he shouldn’t have been naked, but he wasn’t exactly out in public either. I didn’t see anyone else along the trail today. It’s pretty deserted up here.”

  “We’re here! That’s enough people for me. It’s not like we’re way in the backcountry or something. Cottonwood is just a few miles away.”

  Amanda said nothing for a moment and then said, “You’re right. It’s not the best place for someone to skinny-dip.”

  “Who do you think he is?” asked Chelsea.

  “I’m not sure,” said Amanda. “I really didn’t get a good look at him—at least not his face,” she added with a wink.

  They both laughed for a few moments, and then Chelsea turned serious again. “Really though, what’s he doing up here? Do you think he’s camping or something?”

  “From what I could see, he does that a lot. Bathes au natural, I mean, you know…” Amanda paused for a moment. “There were no lines. He was pretty tan…everywhere.” They both chuckled again.

  “Mom, did you peek when we rode by?” asked Chelsea, trying to cover for her own quick glance.

  “I was only making sure he wasn’t going to come at us or something,” Amanda said.

  Chelsea rolled her eyes and gave her mother a stare. “Uh, right…” she said. There was, of course, no way Chelsea was going to tell her mother about her own quick glance or the perfectly timed smile she’d received from the man. It wasn’t something she really wanted to think about at all, but she knew the moment and the image would linger with her.

  Mother and daughter sat and listened to Abyss Falls for a short while, resting and thinking and taking occasional sips from their water bottles. When it came time to ride back downhill to town, they agreed to ride straight back to the park without any stopping, nude man or not. All their worrying was for naught, for as they rode swiftly past the spot in the river where the stranger had been, he was nowhere in sight.

  Arriving back at McCann Park, the late-afternoon sun bathed the green bench in bright sunlight that streamed down through a clearing in the trees near the river. So well-lit was the bench that even from a distance up the trail, Chelsea could see that the cane was gone.

  “Do you think Carl came back and got it?” Chelsea asked her mother as they straddled their bikes next to the bench. “Or may
be…that nude man took it!”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Amanda replied.

  “I’m bettin’ it was that man,” said Chelsea. “We didn’t see anyone else out here.”

  “Why not Old Blind Carl? He probably just forgot it and came back for it, or like I said before, got a new one. I think you’ve got that man on your brain, young lady. He may have been nude, but that doesn’t mean he’s suddenly the cause of everything you find out of place.”

  “But something just doesn’t feel right to me,” explained Chelsea. “Why would a blind man leave his cane behind?”

  Amanda shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Let’s not worry too much right now. We’ll just keep our eyes out for Old Blind Carl and his cane. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation for this.”

  Chelsea knew her mother was trying to smooth over the situation, as she always did when Chelsea began worrying. She didn’t appreciate that patronizing, for it challenged her status as a full adult. As the two pedaled west on Second Street toward home, Chelsea couldn’t block the feeling that something had happened to Old Blind Carl. It was strong and certain, but she decided to keep quiet for now. She knew the more she spoke, the more her mother would only try to smooth it over.

  Chelsea’s intuition was correct—something had indeed happened to Old Blind Carl. There had been an exchange of sorts, right there on the banks of the Little Bear River—one cane for one banyan seed.

  Twenty-Two

  The Western Meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta)

  It was John James Audubon who in 1844 first gave the Western Meadowlark its scientific name—Sturnella neglecta. The name is actually the result of a strange twist of American history. Captain Meriwether Lewis first made a note of this species of bird on Saturday, June 22, 1805, as he and William Clark were heading across the wilds of Montana on their historical expedition. Captain Lewis notes in his journal: