“Anyway, I can’t picture a world where Laurel wouldn’t make some kind of difference,” he said, and I nodded.
He was right. Miss Georgia and Laurel were alike in that way—no matter what they did, they’d make the world better.
—
By the time the others met up with us, we had stopped talking about Miss Georgia, Laurel, or saving the world, and instead were laughing (though not rudely…we were quiet. Ish.) at the different tourists who were coming down on mules. Anyway, we stopped when I was about to point at someone who wound up being Root, and eventually we all climbed onto the mules they had arranged and went back to the top. All except for Ladybug, who hiked back with Mom on an easier path due to the whole mule allergy issue. I will say, the swears Miss Ruby fired off while riding that mule are really going to stay with me. I had no idea there even were so many words for that particular body part. Wow.
Wow. That was amazing. And horrible. And beautiful. And…wow.
We just came back from the “memorial” for Miss Georgia, though it wasn’t like any funeral I could imagine. For one thing, Elvis Presley was there, at least for part of it.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Mimi woke us at 5:00 a.m.—apparently the fact that it’s summer means that the sun rises over the Grand Canyon REALLY FREAKING EARLY. Anyway, I got up right away….Honestly, I’d been awake half the night, it felt like, thinking about life back home and about how easy it is to hang out with Travis and about Miss Georgia. Three weeks ago I had never met her; five days ago we were laughing while she and Miss Ruby sang karaoke…and now she’s gone.
When we got outside, the sky was still mostly blue-black, and there were stars…wild numbers of stars. But in the east the light was starting, and there was the deepest purple not-black color creeping up the canyon. Laurel and Root came out, yawning (Root was still wearing his Cat in the Hat pajama bottoms…honestly, I have no words), and we headed over to the canyon’s edge to meet up with Travis and his family. By the time we got there, it was already a little bit brighter.
They were all clustered as far east as it’s possible to be, near an edge that, if I look right over it, makes my head spin. It dropped straight down the cliff face, into blackness that I knew would turn to shades of red and gold as the sun got higher.
Miss Ruby had the cutout Elvis with her, which made me do a double take—at first I thought it might be a park ranger or something. But no, it was only Elvis.
Once we were all there, Gavin started to speak. He didn’t say a lot, not like a big preaching thing. He talked about how Miss Georgia had helped raise him, how she and Miss Ruby had been a part of his life for so long, he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to stop talking to her, but that he had every confidence that she would still be listening, wherever she was.
Then Travis said a few things, mostly about how much he was going to miss her. Then—and this will probably sound dumb, but it was really beautiful—Miss Ruby sang. She didn’t sing a church song or anything; she sang Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender,” and she sang it really slow and sweet. When she was done, we wiped our eyes (we were all crying at this point). Then Gavin took the lid off this jar he was holding, and spread his arm out in a giant arc, spreading ashes as far over the edge as he could.
The sun had been rising, and by now it was more light than dark, with crazy, touched-by-God rays of sunlight starting to break over the canyon in pink and gold stripes. The ashes caught the light as they fell, and honestly it looked like magic.
That was when Miss Ruby said, “I think she’ll want company. It’s time.” And took a step closer to the edge.
Gavin roared, “NOOOO!” and rushed toward her, Travis right behind him.
But before I could even figure out what was happening, she took Elvis and flung him right over the side, right after Miss Georgia’s ashes. He went pinwheeling, feet over head over feet, out of sight.
Gavin and Travis froze on either side of her, and Miss Ruby laughed. “Did you think I’d do that to you boys? What kind of a devil do you think I am, anyway?”
Gavin snorted, then started to laugh, then did a full-on belly laugh, with Travis TEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEing along with him. At first I was too shell-shocked to laugh, but it was contagious, and before long we were all cracking up, literally slapping our knees and laughing our heads off. Laurel had to sit down, she was laughing so hard.
Then Ladybug moved forward, I guess to take yet another picture of Bruce, and there was a horrible scream.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” she shrieked, so loud that I thought my heart would stop.
I thought she’d fallen.
I honestly thought, for one horrible, terrible moment, that she was gone.
But she was right there.
She was fine.
Bruce wasn’t, though.
Ladybug had dropped Bruce, and the camera with all the photos, right over the edge.
I don’t even know what to say. I mean, I feel horrible for Ladybug, who is absolutely devastated. But at the same time…we were all still wiping our eyes after Miss Ruby sang, and then cracking up after Elvis went over, then the totally disgustingly scary horror of thinking Ladybug had fallen…and then BRUCE?! As Gavin muttered under his breath, “Oh, Georgie would have loved all this.”
Ladybug was inconsolable. She sobbed in Mimi’s arms, totally desolate. I had mostly stopped crying after Miss Ruby’s song, but I started up again, hearing Ladybug so upset. She kept wailing over and over, “But I love Bruce! I love him! He can’t be gone! I love him and he’s gone!”
And of course I—and probably everyone else—was thinking about Miss Georgia, and how she was gone too, even though people loved her so.
After we got back to the hotel, Root went to take a walk, and Mom and Mimi went off to talk to the rangers. Ladybug curled up in my lap, sniffling into my neck.
“Why do things leave, Say? Why do they go away when we love them?” She burrowed in and her tears tickled my shoulder.
And it’s so bad—I can’t help but cry when I’m with someone who’s crying, so of course my eyes kept spilling over too. But all I could do was pat her back and smooth her hair and hold her tight until she fell asleep, sniffling and snorting. My shirt was wet—Ladybug always sweats hard when she cries, so between the sweat and tears, I was pretty gross. Plus there was probably some drool or snot mixed in….Who are we kidding? When you cry as hard as Ladybug, it’s a full-body experience.
Laurel came in and sat next to me, but we didn’t even talk. She just leaned against me so that Ladybug was half on me and half on her. We sat there for a while, with Laurel drawing pictures on my arm with her finger for me to guess, while Ladybug snored quietly.
When Mom and Mimi came back, they were pretty relieved to see her sleeping. Mom gave a big sigh and plopped down next to me on the couch.
Mimi went and got a glass of water, then flung herself down next to Laurel. “Oh, girls, thank you,” she said, leaning over to peer at Ladybug. “You’re a godsend. She’s so upset, the poor little duck. Sleep’s probably the best thing for her.”
I nodded, trying not to move my shoulder. “No problem. She’s pretty wrecked.”
“Of course she is,” Mom said. “She had to say goodbye to Miss Georgia, who, even though we just met her, became close to us and was pretty special. And while Bruce is ‘just a toy,’ it’s another goodbye. No wonder she’s so bereft.”
As though in answer, Ladybug whimpered a little and curled up tighter. Mom leaned closer to me and opened her arms.
“Here, hand her over to me. You must be starving. Travis is downstairs in the restaurant, if you want to join him.” She looked over at Laurel, and her voice changed a little, sounding more formal. “Lo-Lo, if you’re willing to hold off, we’d love to catch up and talk, if that’s okay?”
I glanced at Laurel, wondering if she’d go into explosive mode. But she nodded. Her eyes had dark smudges under them, and her usually spiked hair was flat and sort o
f tired-looking. “Yeah, that works. I wanted to talk to you too,” she said. She smiled a little. “I think I’ve ‘let it lie’ long enough.”
I was starving, actually, since we hadn’t had breakfast before heading out. But for some reason I wasn’t super-eager to jump up. Part of me was exhausted—exhausted by the early morning, by the emotion of saying goodbye to Miss Georgia, by Ladybug’s seemingly bottomless pool of tears. It was a relief to sit, holding tight to my hot, sweaty little sister, surrounded by my family. I clutched her tighter, once, then loosened my arms. She was fine. Bruce was gone, but really…we would survive that. We were all still here.
I slowly leaned toward Mom until she could get her arms around Ladybug. For a minute Mom’s arms were around both of us, and she held on tight, and I pushed into her, glad to have her there. Mimi put her arms around Laurel, then reached over to squeeze us closer. Laurel squeaked a little, then laughed, and for a second we were all together, smushed and cozy and damp and smelly and family.
Ladybug’s words echoed in my head: I love him and he’s gone. My eyes felt scratchy again, and I pictured everyone’s faces in that early-morning blaze of light. Finally Mom let go and pulled Ladybug onto her lap.
I slid myself away from them and stood up. Mom looked at me over Ladybug’s head. “You know, your hair really does look lovely,” she said. And she smiled. “I love you, Say-Say. So much.”
Of course I knew this. But it felt good to hear it anyway.
Downstairs Travis was somehow managing to look somber even while eating a double stack (FIVE!) of huge pancakes with a side of bacon and sausage. He looked glad to see me, but his smile was much lower than its usual blinding level.
“How’s your sister doing?” he asked, pushing the platter of bacon toward me.
I grabbed a piece and jammed it into my mouth, too ravenous to be polite. “Sleeping,” I mumbled through the bacon. “So that’s good.”
He nodded. “Poor thing. She looked plumb worn out. That was a hard morning for her. Well, it was a hard one all around.”
I looked up, hoping to see the waitress, and Travis moved his plate closer. “Here, you can share. This is my second plate,” he said, pulling a silverware roll over from the other side of the table.
I looked at him, then at the plate.
“What? I don’t have cooties,” he said, his grin starting to amp up. I felt like I should get sunglasses, it was so blinding after the past few hours.
“No, I just don’t want to starve you. After all, you’ve only had six or seven pancakes. Don’t want you to waste away,” I said. But sarcasm is seriously wasted on that boy. He only smiled brighter (sunglasses! Now!) and politely said that he could always order more. So I dug in.
“Do you think Miss Ruby will be okay?” I asked, after a brief silent moment of shoving pancake into my mouth as fast as possible. I was starving. Apparently high drama and tears make a person hungry. Or maybe they were just really good pancakes.
Travis cut a bite and ate it, looking thoughtful. “I reckon she’ll be fine,” he said finally, after swallowing. “But I don’t know that she’s going to be the same. I can’t really explain it, but she and Auntie G…they were like bread and butter. They went together. I reckon she’s going to be a little different from now on.”
I thought about the two of them arguing and giggling and finishing each other’s sentences. And even though I hadn’t known them long, I agreed. It was hard to imagine how Miss Ruby would be without Miss Georgia. I wondered, not for the first time, if they’d been a couple. I wasn’t sure how to ask Travis, or if he’d freak out at the question. After all, it’s not like we’d discussed my moms, and asking someone if his great-aunt is a lesbian (sorry, Saanvi!) is a little weird.
I asked a different question instead. “Were either of them ever…you know…married, or anything?”
He nodded. “Yup. They weren’t together together, if that’s what you’re wondering. Auntie Ruby married young, married a guy from their high school who Aunt G hated. Apparently she was right, because he turned out to be a real jerk. Aunt Ruby left him two years later and got a restraining order. Auntie G, now, her husband was a great guy. I don’t remember him much, because he died when I was pretty little. Lung cancer. He smoked like it was his second job. They used to live right next door to Auntie Ruby, and a year after he died, Aunt Georgia told Ruby to pack up and move on in, because it was too much work to keep two kitchens clean.”
I laughed a little. I could picture that conversation.
Travis laughed too. “They had been best friends since kindergarten, and when Aunt Ruby left her husband, she moved next door to Aunt Georgia and Uncle Jessie. And the three of them used to do so much together that folks in town called them the three amigos, or the three stooges, depending. But when Aunt Ruby and Aunt Georgia moved in together, they turned right back into schoolgirls, my dad always said. Said it was slumber parties and gossip all the time.”
Travis gave me a sideways look. I had finished his pancakes and was trying, unsuccessfully, to clean myself up. “Here,” he said, dipping his napkin into an unused water glass. “Try this.” He handed me the wet napkin, and I mopped up my sticky hands and—ugh—hair. Apparently I had done full-contact pancake eating.
“People gossiped about them,” he went on, once I was no longer a toxic syrup zone. “Making guesses. But Auntie Georgia used to say she hated when folks asked her, nosy-like, if she and Ruby were ‘only friends.’ ‘There’s nothing “only” about friends,’ she used to answer. ‘Friends is as good as it gets. Jess was “only” my husband, if you’re going to talk that way.’ Used to confuse a lot of folks.”
“That’s kind of a good point,” I said. “After all, who gets to decide that our boyfriend or girlfriend is the really important relationship, and our best friends are an afterthought?” I thought about Em and Vi and wondered if we would be together in fifty years, traveling the country and punching each other and playing cards. It was fun to imagine.
Now I’m back in the room getting the last of our stuff packed up before we check out. We’ll go back to Williams and take the Southwest Chief to Los Angeles…our last overnight train. Mom and Mimi and Ladybug are off at the park ranger station, to lodge an official lost-item report, not that anyone thinks that Bruce or the camera will ever surface. We looked over the canyon—I made myself go to the edge and peer down, and holy cow. Not to be awful, but that Roman centurion is GONE. There’s no trace of Bruce, the camera, or even the life-sized Elvis, which tells you how far down everything fell. So there’s no recovery mission happening, but I guess the thought was that at least Ladybug would know we did EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to get Bruce back. She’ll know we tried, anyway.
Fun Fact!
The Cajon Pass, at an elevation of 4,190 feet, lies between the San Bernardino Mountains and the San Gabriel Mountains and was created by the movements of the infamous San Andreas Fault. (Note: I asked Laurel why the San Andreas Fault was infamous, and apparently, to sum it up, EARTHQUAKES. Tons of them. Awesome.)
Fun Fact!
In 1873, Eliza Tibbets received two Brazilian navel orange trees sent to her by a friend in the US State Department in Washington, DC. The trees thrived in the Southern California climate and soon led to a different kind of California Gold Rush: the establishment of the citrus industry. Now more than one billion dollars’ worth of citrus fruits are grown here every year.
Not-So-Fun Fact!
Apparently California’s drought is breaking historical records and the state’s running out of water.
Other Not-So-Fun Fact!
Ladybug has barely stopped crying since we left the Grand Canyon. If only we could create an irrigation system with her tears.
Back on the train, heading west, away from the Grand Canyon, and by extension, away from Bruce (and Elvis, for that matter). Even getting on the train was brutal. The nice sleeping cabin attendant (Russell, this time) asked if Ladybug was the little girl with the bitty soldier and did she want to t
ake a picture. Apparently word had spread about Ladybug and Bruce. Needless to say that automatically led to a new flood of tears. Russell felt horrible—he brought Ladybug an ice cream (which she couldn’t eat), then folded her towel into a swan and put his attendant’s hat on its head, but still she wouldn’t stop. Then we tried to get Ladybug excited about seeing the sunset out the window from the observation car—it’s a gorgeous red and orange and purple kaleidoscope out there—but she sobbed harder and said she didn’t want to see it without Bruce. Finally Mimi carried her off to bed.
Miss Ruby was sitting with me and Travis, watching the sky get crazier and crazier. She shook her head. “That poor little girl. She’s going to cry herself sick. Does she always get so riled up?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I’ve never seen her like this.” I glanced down at my shirt, which was still damp from where I’d tried to cuddle her before giving up and sending her off with Mimi. “I wish I could help.”
Miss Ruby gave a sigh. “Sometimes the heart just has to grieve. Nothing to be done but give her time, I suppose.”
Travis leaned over and gave her a squeeze. “Wise words, Auntie. But I’m worried about you too. You doing all right?”
She snorted and slapped at him a little, but I noticed she squeezed him back before letting go. “I’ll be fine. Your auntie and I knew this was coming. Like that little girl, I just need time to get used to things.” But she looked straight ahead while she said it.
“If only Ladybug hadn’t dropped the camera too!” I said. Travis groaned. It was not the first time I’d said this.
This Would Make a Good Story Someday Page 15