Andie poked me. “You’re avoiding my question.”
I pulled on my hair. “I
forgot
the question.”
“Nice try.” She inched closer. “Hmm, I think I see Danny Myers in your eyes,” she teased.
“Get outta my face.” I playfully pushed her away.
She giggled, pulling a brochure from her jeans pocket.
“What’s that?”
“Info on the Grand Canyon,” she said, smoothing the folds. “I picked it up at our last rest stop.”
Just then Jared came down the aisle, pausing at our seats. “Hi again, girls.” He leaned on the back of my seat and smiled. Andie and I exchanged a quick look.
“Now what?” Andie asked him.
“It’s lonely up front,” he said.
Andie stood up. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she scanned the front of the bus. Then, with a huge sigh, she sat down. “Looks crowded to me. Plenty of people up there.”
I muttered under my breath, “Just no
girls.
”
Jared ignored my comment and pointed to Andie’s brochure. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Could be,” Andie said. “Depends on what you’re thinking.”
“Looks like there are some great places to hike,” he said, studying the brochure. Then, saying no more, he headed to the rest room in the back of the bus.
Andie peered at the information on her brochure. “This says the gorge is two hundred miles long. Wow! Who can see that far?”
“Daddy says he goes to the Grand Canyon when he feels like life is caving in on him,” I said softly.
Andie turned toward me. “You must’ve had a good talk with him after the concert the other night,” she said, prying in a roundabout way.
“It was weird seeing him again, you know. He’s totally missed out on the last four plus years of my life. Says he wants to catch up.”
Andie’s dark eyebrows shot up. “How
can
he, when he lives in California with his new wife, and you and your mom and Carrie live in Colorado?”
I took a deep breath. “This summer, probably.”
Andie gasped. “You’re going to California this summer?”
I nodded.
“Your mother will never let you,” Andie said. “And neither will I.”
“
You
won’t?”
“Have you forgotten that we always go camping together? Every summer since second grade? You don’t want to mess things up, do you?” she demanded.
“I have to do this,” I said. “For me.”
Andie folded her arms in a huff.
But I stared her down. “Please, don’t do this. It’ll be hard enough getting Mom to let me go, without you putting me on a guilt trip about it.”
“Boring…boring.” She put on her best pout. “It’ll be boring for you out there. You’ll see.”
“Andie, listen,” I said. “Your father lives with you and your family. Mine left when I was in third grade. I know you’d be curious, too, if you were me.”
“So it’s curiosity, then?”
“That and other stuff,” I said, reluctant to share more.
“Oh, Holly, don’t be stubborn. Just tell me, okay?”
“Not now.” I noticed Jared coming back from the rest room. No way was he going to overhear this conversation.
Andie ignored me, continuing her guilt campaign. “It’ll be the lousiest summer of my life!”
“Shh!” Privacy was impossible on a bus, especially now that Jared had plopped himself down behind us, eavesdropping. I gave Andie a don’t-you-dare-say-anything look. She smoothed out her brochure of Grand Canyon National Park while I flipped through the pages of my devotional book.
“What’s the verse for today?” Jared asked, peeking around my seat.
I had already tried the polite approach, so I ignored him and kept reading. Why couldn’t he just evaporate?
“Come on, Holly-Heart, give a guy a chance,” he crooned. “We can still be friends. Can’t we?”
Without looking up, I said, “Holly-Heart is the nickname my mother gave me. It’s reserved for relatives and close friends only. Remember?”
Andie glanced over and stifled a giggle.
“Hmm,” Jared said. “I don’t want to be your relative. But a close friend? Now, that’s an idea.”
I slammed my book shut, whirling around. “Listen up, Jared.
I liked you once, but that’s over. Why? Because I don’t trust you. Besides, you made big trouble for Andie and me.”
Andie started to cheer for me. She forgot that it was quiet time on the bus. Some of the altos turned around and shushed her, and she got as red as the illustrated cliffs on her brochure.
Jared slunk back to his seat like a wounded puppy. Some act.
“Will he ever give up?” I whispered to Andie.
“Persistence is his game,” she said. “Now you’re a big challenge to him. Maybe if you act a teeny bit interested, he’ll leave you alone.”
“I can’t do that,” I said. “I don’t want to show any interest in a jerk.”
Andie refolded the brochure. “Let’s talk summer, Holly.”
I sighed and looked away.
She
was persistent, too.
“Please, just think about it. You’re throwing our entire summer away,” she whined. Andie sounded selfish. She was acting like she hadn’t heard a thing I’d said before.
“Can we talk about something else, maybe?” I leaned against the headrest and closed my eyes.
“No fair sleeping. June, July, and August are coming faster than you think.”
“Okay,” I said, giving in. “Besides the family camping trip, what else do you want to do?”
“A raft trip,” she said, sitting on the edge of her seat. “A wild and crazy white-water raft trip down the Arkansas River. I hear it’s outrageous. Imagine the breathtaking thrill of Zoom Flume, Screaming Right, and get this…the Widow Maker!”
“Which means girls have to be pretty tough if the guys don’t survive,” I concluded.
“And,” she said, her voice growing louder and more excited, “the minimum age is twelve, so you know it’s gotta be very wild.”
More annoyed looks were cast our way by choir members observing Mr. Keller’s stipulated quiet time. I put my finger to my lips.
Slumping down in her seat, Andie curled her legs beneath her. She grinned. Andrea Martinez—Miss Magnificent Manipulator—had me and she knew it. Rafting was the one thing I’d been dying to do. An all-day trip down the mighty Arkansas, along with two fabulous weeks of camping with Andie and her family. Irresistible.
Mom’s idea of camping was the Holiday Inn without maid service. No chance
she’d
go. But Andie’s family? That was a different story. Her twin baby brothers, Chris and Jon, would stay with their grandma, then off we’d go. Before the arrival of the “double blessing”—as Andie’s mom liked to call the twins—the Martinez family had gone camping every summer. Thanks to Andie, I’d been invited to tag along.
What great summers we’d had. Always camping high in the Colorado Rockies near the Twin Lakes that nestled like giant mirrors beneath soaring mountains. There, the air smelled of pine trees and the lakes were so blue it seemed a piece of sky had fallen to the earth. Wispy clouds scurried past snowy mountain peaks and the summer sun warmed the valleys. It was enough to birth the poet in me.
Andie’s father, dashing and comical, kept us in stitches at all times. Summer and laughter seemed to hold hands—at least on camping trips with Andie and her family. Would spending the summer with Daddy be worth the sacrifices I’d have to make?
The sacrificial list was growing. I’d miss out on camping with Andie, youth meetings, white-water rafting, and…yes, maybe getting to know Danny Myers better. But I wasn’t going to let any of it come between me and my secret summer dream to visit my dad and get to know
him
for the first time in four long years.
SECRET SUMMER DREAMS
“Quiet time’s over. Sleepers awake!” Walking down the aisle of the bus, Mr. Keller clapped his hands to rouse dozing choir members. “We’re coming close to the Grand Canyon,” he said.
The Grand Canyon. The words awakened all thirty of us. Soon the bus was buzzing with excited voices.
I grabbed Andie’s leaflet, tracing the path of the Colorado River with my finger. From what I’d read, its treacherous rapids and gigantic boulders made navigation barely possible.
“That’s
one
raft trip we can forget about,” Andie said as my finger slid along the path the swift river cut through the canyon.
“Guess you’d have to psych yourself up for a trip like that,” I said.
Andie looked pleased. “So, you
are
thinking about staying home this summer?”
I flashed her a knowing smile. She was so sneaky. The little rat!
Mr. Keller announced that we were welcome to explore the area as long as we did not wander off alone. “Please take someone with you,” he said. “I want to return all of you to your families in one piece.”
“How dangerous
is
this place?” I asked Andie.
“Can’t be too dangerous,” she said. “Look at all the people.” We peered out the window as the bus inched into an open spot. The parking lot was really crowded.
“We’ll see soon enough,” I said, wondering if this place would be any big deal.
We bounded off the bus and headed straight for the lookout area, which was rimmed with a rock wall.
“Fabulous.” That’s all I could say for the next five minutes as Andie and the rest of the kids and I stood there drinking in the awesome sight.
It was late afternoon, and a golden haze lay over the canyon. Gazing across, I could see the rosy reds and gray-blues of the clifflike formations. Dark ravines, gouged out by the river’s tortuous path, made me feel small, like a speck in the universe. I felt lost in the canyon’s never-endingness. Squinting, I wondered where it ended. Andie was right. Who can see for two hundred miles?
I felt Andie’s hand on my arm.
“You okay?” she asked.
I felt frozen. “It’s…it’s like
forever.
”
“You’re right,” Danny said. I hadn’t noticed him standing there next to me, but Andie must have. She threw me a look that said “I told you.”
I ignored her and turned to Danny. “Makes me wonder how God keeps track of everything on this earth,” I said. “He even knows how many hairs are on our heads.”
“And when June bugs are gonna dance in them,” Andie said, tugging playfully at my long hair. She consulted her brochure. “It says here that the park is almost two thousand square miles, and that there are 290 species of birds that fly between these canyon walls.”
Danny pulled out his binoculars and scanned the rocks below. “The smallest animals live in those crevices a mile down,” he said. “No way can God be nearsighted.”
Andie and I laughed. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Jared, standing a few feet away and looking annoyed. Probably jealous of the attention we were giving Danny.
Too bad,
I thought.
He had his chance, and boy did he blow it.
Danny touched my arm. He was still looking through his binoculars, but he directed my gaze to a ledge far below. “If you look carefully, you’ll see a red-tailed hawk,” he said, handing the binoculars to me. He helped me adjust the focus and pointed me in the right direction. “They live in all parts of the canyon, except near damp areas or open water.”
Then I spotted what he was talking about—a fierce, proud bird, perched on the edge of a cliff. Spreading its wings, it flew away, and I followed it with the binoculars until it disappeared from view.
“Thanks. That was cool.” I handed the binoculars back to him. Smiling, he took them from me, then moved closer to the stone wall to peer down the edge of the ravine.
“How does Danny know all that stuff?” Andie whispered to me.
“He reads constantly,” I said.
“Anyone can read. How does he remember all of it?” Andie asked.
“Photographic memory, I guess.” Admiration filled me as I watched Danny. He had his binoculars up again, slowly scanning the canyon.
The group started to break up. A bunch of kids went to the gift shop to buy souvenirs and candy. Others hung around the coinoperated telescopes. Jared came over and suggested that we hike down into the canyon a short distance. “It’s safe enough,” he said. “And we’ve got a whole hour. Mr. Keller said we need to be back on the bus, ready to go, at six.”
“Uh, I don’t know,” I said, looking down at the great abyss.
“C’mon, Holly. Don’t be such a scaredy,” Andie said. “Where’s the trailhead?” she asked Jared.
“This way.” They walked off together, leaving me with Danny.
“Is it safe, do you think?” I asked.
“We won’t hike far.” Danny moved up beside me. We followed Jared and Andie as they made their way toward the hiking path. “Want to wear these?” Danny asked, pulling the binoculars over his head.
“Sure.”
He handed them to me and our fingers touched slightly. A strange, giddy feeling shot like an arrow straight to my heart. Was I falling for Danny Myers?
Don’t be silly,
I told myself.
We hurried to the trailhead, where Jared and Andie had stopped to wait for us. I peered hesitantly down the path. The blacktopped path zigzagged down the side of the cliff, and it wasn’t exactly level. In fact, it looked like a forty-degree angle to me.
“Stay close to this.” Andie patted the reddish rock wall to the left of us.
One hand touching the wall, I headed down the trail, my tennies skidding a little on the steep path. Keeping my eyes on the trail, I tried not to think about the sheer drop-off to the right of me. Jared led the way, followed by Andie, then me, and last, Danny. I was glad he was behind me. Somehow it made me feel safer.
After completing several switchbacks, we stopped to gaze at the beauty around us. I made sure my back was safely up against the canyon wall before I pulled out the binoculars and scanned the slopes just below the canyon rim.
There was a slight movement. I adjusted the focus. A deer with antlers and the largest ears I’d ever seen made me catch my breath.
“What is it, Holly?” Danny asked.
“I think it’s a deer, but it has huge ears.” I watched as the animal moved boldly along the cliff, grazing.
Danny said, “Must be a mule deer.”
“Hee-haw!” Jared brayed like a donkey. “Let’s see!” He pushed between Danny and me.
“Wait a second, Jared,” I said, still gazing through the lenses. The deer had lifted its head and seemed to be staring at me, its head cocked, its eyes alert. I inched forward, intent on the beautiful creature.