shoulder, smooth and warm from thirteen days of sun.
“You don’t have him, do you?” Sam said to Bud.
Bud shook his head.
“That’s his life jacket.”
Bud nodded.
“Well,” said Sam staunchly, “well, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“No, it does not,” said JT, and he could see the boys mind processing the evidence, just as he himself had done. An empty life jacket alone did not equal a dead dog. Bud didn’t say anything about the vultures, and JT decided then and there to offer Bud a free trip down the river, at his convenience, for this little bit of discretion.
By now the other kayakers were pulling in, and JT could tell from their faces that they’d discussed the matter and drawn their own conclusions. One by one, the people in JT’s group came wandering down from the lunch table. A solemn quiet fell upon them as JT explained that the dog’s life jacket had been found.
“It doesn’t mean anything either way,” said JT. “I don’t think anyone should jump to conclusions. On the other hand, I guess we’re just not going to know anything for sure.”
The group waited.
What, do we do a rain dance? JT wondered.
“Nine lives,” Mark murmured.
“Even so …,” said Evelyn.
“Perhaps if we leave a note on the picnic table,” Ruth said.
“Use our phone number,” said Mark.
“Mark, don’t,” Jill said quickly.
“Dogs aren’t even allowed down here,” Lloyd reminded them.
It was Sam who noticed that Mitchell had disappeared. They looked around and finally saw his floppy tan hat bobbing through the tall thickets along the bank downriver.
Then his head vanished, and in another moment they heard the terrible sound of retching. Under other circumstances, there would be speculation of a stomach virus, or too much to drink the night before, or gluttony at the lunch table. Not today.
Sam headed toward the thicket.
“Give him some space, Sam,” Mark called.
But Sam kept going, in search of the man who was most in need of comfort.
51
Day Thirteen
The Road Out
The road out of the canyon at Diamond Creek is steep, rocky, and deeply rutted from flash floods. Its an eighteen-mile trip that can take an hour, even when weather conditions are good; and after gliding down a river for two weeks, the bumps and jolts can take their toll on a person’s joints.
Abo and Dixie rode in the back of the cab, and JT rode up front with the driver. He was trying to figure out what he would say tonight, when they all met for a farewell dinner at a pub in downtown Flagstaff. He had a pretty standard speech, but this had not exactly been a standard trip.
He thought of getting sick. A sore throat. A stomach bug. He thought of telling Abo that Colin was in town, just for the night. A robber had ransacked his house.
“Hey, Boss,” said Abo from behind. “How much of this trip are you going to write up, when you make your trip report?”
“The whole truth,” said JT. “Nothing but the truth.”
“Don’t write about how I put peanut butter in the green beans.”
“What’s going to keep you from doing it again?”
“Well now, I LEARN from my mistakes!” Abo declared.
Dixie sighed. “Tone it down, Abo?”
Abo wrapped his arms around her and firmly smooched her cheek. “Let’s do another trip together!”
“Maybe next year,” said Dixie.
As they climbed, the truck lurched dangerously from side to side. The driver had to hold tightly to the steering wheel, for the cobbled ruts had a will of their own and threatened to pull the truck off course if he wasn’t careful. At one point, he had to hug the right edge to avoid a boulder that had fallen, and JT found himself looking straight down into the dry canyon bed.
A shadow. Moving.
“Hey. Stop the truck,” JT said.
“I can’t stop,” said the driver. “I’ll never get going again.”
“Stop the truck,” said JT. The truck lurched forward with a shriek, then sank back with dust rising all around. JT opened his door with a loud creak and stepped down onto the hardened dirt. There was less than a few feet of space between the truck and the edge of the drop-off. When the dust cleared, he looked down, thinking he’d imagined it.
There he was, loping along the creek bed.
“What is it?” Abo said, climbing out of the truck. “What do you see?”
JT strained his eyes to make sure. How the fuck?
Dixie poked her head out of the window. “What is it?”
JT shook his head in wonder.
“You damn dog,” he breathed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book never would have happened if I