Take Me With You Read online

  “Don’t get mad when I say this. I don’t mean to be ungrateful. But I sort of thought we’d be seeing so much great interesting stuff that I wouldn’t have time to get homesick. Not that we haven’t seen places. I think this town is nice. You know. With the mountains and all. Seems like the mountains are all different colors. But it wasn’t enough to keep me from getting homesick.”

  “Give it a little time. We’re just stuck in one of the in-between bits. We haven’t gotten anywhere yet.”

  He looked up to see Henry watching them from inside, both hands against the glass of the window. Woody panted beside him, leaving noseprints on the glass.

  “When do we get somewhere?”

  “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll be at Zion National Park. There’ll be a lot more to do. I think you’ll like it.”

  “What’s it like? Tell me about it.”

  “Seth. We’ll be there tomorrow morning. Can’t I just show it to you?”

  Seth’s shoulders fell. He seemed to deflate on a huge exhale. He turned on his heel to go back inside.

  There it was, August thought. There it goes again.

  “Seth. Wait.”

  Seth stopped and turned. Waited to see what August would say. And in many respects, so did August.

  “The old plastic iced-tea bottle in the glove compartment has a little of my son Phillip’s ashes in it.”

  An awkward silence.

  “His? What do you mean his? He had, like, an ashes collection?”

  “No. Not ashes that used to belong to him. Ashes of him.”

  “Oh,” Seth said.

  “I know. It’s weird. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Shouldn’t it be in, like . . . a fancy . . . what do you call those things?”

  “Urn?”

  “Yeah. That.”

  “The rest of them are. This is just a little part of his ashes.”

  “Oh. But still. Why an old iced-tea bottle?”

  “Maybe that’s another story for another day,” August said.

  August sat in his camp chair eating a hot dog grilled on the grate over their open campfire. And vaguely wishing he had brought three camp chairs. He had three, left over from the days when his family traveled together. But he’d left two in the garage, never imagining he would need them.

  It was late dusk. Nearly dark.

  “This is more how I thought it would be,” Seth said. “Like camping.”

  The boys sat side by side on a folded blanket, staring into the fire. The wind changed and blew smoke into their eyes and faces. They scrambled away. Seth started to drag the blanket around to the other side of the fire.

  August said, “I wouldn’t bother if I were you. The wind’ll just shift again. Wherever you sit it’ll hit you in the face part of the time. We’ll mostly be camping. But when you’re driving long distances, you have to be prepared for some in-between days.”

  “It’s okay. We don’t mind. Especially now that we know. This hot dog is really good. I never had a hot dog this good. I think it’s cooking them on the fire. Our dad always just boils them in a pot.”

  And, at the mention of their father, things went silent for a long time. Until they were done eating.

  Then Seth asked, “Can I have another? Please? I know three is a lot . . .”

  “It’s fine, Seth. You can have all you want. But you’ll have to throw another one on to cook.”

  “I don’t mind that. But is it really okay? I’m not being selfish?”

  “It’s fine. It’s not a problem.”

  “I feel like it might cost you too much to have us along.”

  “Your dad gave me some food money for you.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that. I feel better now.”

  Seth unwrapped the package of hot dogs, pulled out one, carefully rewrapped what was left, and threw his third hot dog on the fire. He didn’t sit down again. Just stood and watched it cook.

  “My dad drinks,” he said. “Not so much that he should go to AA. Well . . . maybe. I don’t know. That’s the thing. I don’t know how bad is bad enough.”

  “Nobody really does,” August said, “from the outside.”

  He looked down at Henry, who was eating his hot dog with ketchup only and staring at it with a slight frown.

  “Thing is it gets him in trouble. So I wonder why he doesn’t just not do it then. That’s not how he got in trouble this time. This time it was checks. Not bad checks, exactly. He wasn’t trying to steal or anything. Just checks that weren’t good fast enough. You know how sometimes you write a check, and you don’t really have that much in the bank, but you think you will? You know. That you can get the money and put it in the bank in time. Before the check comes in. But the first three times. The first three times he was drunk driving. And he still drives home from the bar. Even though they haven’t caught him at it again.”

  Then he stopped suddenly and looked confused and a little bit ashamed. As if he had no idea who’d said all that or why.

  August said, “I thought this was only the second time he had to go to jail.”

  “No. Fourth.”

  “He told me it was the second.”

  “Oh. Well. Maybe he forgot those other times.”

  But August couldn’t imagine how anybody could forget going to jail. He didn’t say so, though. He just said, “So that’s why you want to go to a meeting with me.”

  “Sort of. Yeah.”

  “There’s a whole other program for that. When it’s about somebody else’s drinking. It’s called Al-Anon. They even have Ala-teen. For kids.”

  “That would be okay. If we find one. But I figure you’re going to these anyway. We don’t need to talk about this. I don’t really even know why I—”

  And just at that moment, Woody, who was sitting close by Henry and his hot dog, sat up and begged. It was something he’d been taught not to do while people were eating. So, on the one hand, August was surprised. Then there was another part of him that wondered why the dog hadn’t used begging on the boys meals ago.

  Henry laughed and gave him a piece of bun.

  “Oh dear,” August said. “Now there’ll be no living with him.”

  “Henry,” Seth said. “Don’t feed him like that, or he won’t be polite anymore. Hey. We never saw Woody do his tricks.”

  So August cut up a hot dog and ran Woody through his paces. He held a piece behind his back, made his other hand into a gun shape, and pointed straight at Woody’s heart. “Stick ’em up,” he said to the dog.

  Woody stood straight up on his hind legs with his front paws reaching for the sky. Henry shrieked laughter.

  Then August had Woody twirl like a ballerina and walk all the way around the fire ring on his hind legs. He held Woody, then told him to play dead. Woody drooped in his hands, head and paws hanging limply down. Both boys laughed. For a finale he had Woody stand up and give him both a high five and a high ten.

  “That’s the best dog,” Seth said. “You got any marshmallows, August?”

  “We have, in fact, three bags,” August said.

  He didn’t bring up the fact that Seth was feeling better, because sometimes such things were better left unexamined.

  Chapter Six:

  THERE

  “So you can’t drive into this valley at all?” Seth asked. “You have to ride the bus?”

  They had just found themselves seats on the shuttle. It was midmorning, maybe an hour after arriving at the park.

  It was finally time to be “there.” Somewhere. Any of the many “theres” of the summer. They had spent too much time only headed for there. Even August, with his adult patience, could feel the insistence of that need.

  “In the off-season you can drive. In the summer you have to use the shuttle. It’s not exactly a valley. It’s a canyon. Zion Canyon.”

  “Is it nice?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  The shuttle started up, easing along the narrow but perfectly paved road.
Henry perched on the edge of Seth’s seat so they could all sit on the same side as each other. August had given them the window seat because he’d seen Zion before.

  “That was a stupid question,” Seth said. “I’m sorry. Because I already know it’s nice, because it’s even nice from our camp place. I like the way you can see the great big mountains of rock, but you see them with the nice green trees in front of them. And that stuff from the trees that flies around. That makes it even nicer. What did you say the trees were again?”

  “Cottonwoods.”

  “So does that make it cotton, what’s flying around?”

  “It’s just a common name. Somebody thought it looked like cotton. Real cotton doesn’t grow on a tree.”

  “Am I talking too much?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not. It’s okay to be excited. But you might want to listen to the driver, because he’ll announce the different things we’re seeing.”

  They traveled along the road for several minutes in silence before the driver announced the Court of the Patriarchs.

  “The what?” Seth asked, leaning toward the window to see.

  “The Court of the Patriarchs.”

  “Those three big . . . sort of . . . mountains? Why do they call it that?”

  “I’m not sure I remember. Tell you what. We’ll stop in the visitor center on the way back and pick up some brochures. And if they don’t answer all your questions, there are people there you can ask.”

  “They’re really pretty,” Seth said.

  They were more than pretty, August thought. They were majestic. They made you miss one breath, no matter how many times you’d seen them. He didn’t speak.

  “I like how they’re red but then sort of white at the top. I never saw mountains that were red and white both. And sort of green at the bottom. Will the stuff at the visitor center tell me why the rock is red, white, and green?”

  “If it doesn’t, I will. But the rock isn’t green. The Patriarchs have some trees growing out of them. Near the bottom.”

  “How can trees grow out of solid rock?”

  “Nature’s funny that way.”

  “Seriously, though, August. Will you explain it to me?”

  “I will. But right now we have to decide if we want to get off by the lodge. We could go up the Emerald Pools Trail. But it’s steep. Can Henry do steep?”

  “I’m not sure. Are there other trails that aren’t steep?”

  “Sure. We can ride all the way to the end and take the River Trail. Along the Virgin River.”

  “But we can see that river out the back door of your rig at our camp place.”

  “It’s different in the canyon. Believe me.”

  As they neared the stop for Angels Landing, the driver slowed and pointed out a group of climbers going straight up the sheer side of the reddish cliff. They looked like ants, hanging at a thousand feet or more, three-quarters of the way up the wall. August heard all the breath go out of Seth in slow motion. But Seth didn’t comment, and neither did August.

  But when they got to the Angels Landing stop, the one called The Grotto, Seth said, “Can we get off here and see it?”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  “But then we can’t walk by the river?”

  “We can do both. We can catch another shuttle bus when we’re done.”

  They stepped out into bright sun. Stood under a startlingly blue sky. The heat of the day was already quite evident, though not in full gear. August guessed it was already close to ninety.

  Seth pulled his disposable camera from his shirt pocket and aimed it at the climbers on the rock face.

  “You’d do better with my camera for that,” August said. “You’re not going to see much without a strong zoom.”

  August pulled out his camera, turned it on. Took off the lens cap. Handed it to Seth, who seemed afraid to hold it.

  “Here, put the strap around your neck. Then you can’t possibly drop it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now point it at the climbers.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now move this lever to the right.”

  August placed Seth’s finger on the zoom.

  “Okay.”

  “Still got the climbers in your view?”

  “Yeah, but they’re all blurry.”

  “Then put your finger on the shutter,” August said, pointing out the shutter. “And press it down halfway. Not hard. Just press lightly.”

  “Whoa!” Seth shouted. Loud enough to make Henry jump. “Wow! I can see them. I can see them so good, August. Like they were right in front of me. I can see what color shirts they’re wearing. Now what do I do?”

  “Press the shutter down the rest of the way.”

  August heard the click.

  “Now let’s see what you got.”

  He took the camera back from Seth, lifting the strap from around his neck. He pulled up a display of the picture. It looked great. A perfect close-up of three climbers and their ropes on the rock wall.

  He showed it to Seth. “See? You got a good shot.”

  “It is good. Isn’t it? Thanks for letting me use your camera.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I totally want to do that,” Seth said, pointing again at the climbers.

  August snorted laughter. “No way in hell,” he said.

  “I didn’t mean now. I’m not stupid, August. I know that’s too hard to do now. I mean I want to learn to do that. When I get older. When I’m big enough that it’s up to me what I do and nobody can stop me.”

  “Oh. That’s different. But be careful. It’s a dangerous sport.”

  “But maybe not if you’re good at it and you do it right. You think I shouldn’t ever do it?”

  “It’s not up to me to tell you what you should or shouldn’t ever do. I think you should be careful. But in general I think you should do what you want to do, if you really want to do it.”

  “I really want to do it,” Seth said.

  They got off the shuttle again at Weeping Rock. They walked the short uphill trail to the rock face and ducked under the steady drops of falling water to stand under the rock overhang and look out.

  Henry stared straight up at the drops as they came off the ledge, purposely leaning out, his face turned up and wet, his hair increasingly drenched. There was a low rock wall, built as a ledge, to hold him in. So he could lean out without falling.

  “I hope Woody’s okay,” Seth said.

  “Why wouldn’t he be okay? You took him for a walk before we left. He got to go to the bathroom and all. He’s fine in the motor home by himself.”

  “But doesn’t it make him sad?”

  “He knows there are some places dogs can go and other places they can’t.”

  “But doesn’t it make him sad?”

  August sighed. And, unfortunately, considered the idea. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just know it’s the way it has to be.”

  They watched the raining moisture in silence for a time. Henry’s head and shoulders were soaked, but he didn’t pull back under the rock overhang.

  “They should call this Raining Rock,” Seth said.

  “Well. I guess they could have. But they chose Weeping Rock instead.”

  “But that’s too sad,” Seth said.

  “August! Look! You can walk up to Angels Landing on a trail!”

  They stood back outside the visitor center, a quarter-mile walk from their campground, in front of a detailed map of Zion Canyon.

  “Yeah. I know. But it’s a tough trail. I’ve done it. It’s steep.”

  “Let’s do it. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not sure Henry could get up there. I’m not even sure you could get up there, if you’re not used to steep hikes.”

  “I can do it. I can even carry Henry on my back if I have to.”

  “I’m not as sure as you are that you can do all that.”

  “But can’t we try? Can’t we even try, August? I want to get up there really bad.”

>   “Not today, no. It’s already too hot. And too crowded. But if you really want to try, we’ll get up while it’s still dark tomorrow. And we’ll catch the very first shuttle. And I’ll pack some water and some snacks. And we’ll see how high we can get.”

  “All the way. I want to get all the way up to the top.”

  “We’ll see how high we can get,” August said. “What about calling your father, though? Tomorrow morning will be the first day you can call your father. Don’t you want to do that tomorrow morning?”

  Seth bit his upper lip for a minute.

  It hit August that he’d had just about all the hot sun he could take. Thank God the River Trail had been in shade. But they hadn’t walked much of it. Just enough to get the feel of the cool walls of the canyon and marvel at the way the river had carved them.

  “Couldn’t we call him when we get back down?”

  “Up to you,” August said.

  Then he thought, without saying, That’s a lot of want for a kid. He wants to get to the top of Angels Landing more than I thought.

  “Can we get cell phone reception up on top?” Seth asked, straining with hope.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Bring your cell phone and let’s find out. We could call him from the top. From way up there on the very top of the world. And I could tell him what it looks like up there. What I see. It’ll be like he’s on top of the world with us. Instead of being, you know . . .”

  “If we even get that high. It’s a tough trail.”

  “I can get to the top,” Seth said. Without the slightest hint of doubt.

  “We’ll see how high we can get,” August said.

  “I think I’m too excited to sleep,” Seth said.

  August propped up on one elbow. Looked over at the boys, tucked into their bed on the dinette side but wide awake. Henry was staring at the ceiling, one hand stroking the back of Woody’s neck. Even Woody was wide awake.

  “I know it’s early,” August said. “But we have to get up before four.”

  “I don’t think I ever got up that early before. We’re all ready, though. You have your pack all ready with water and stuff.”

  “But we have to get Woody out for a walk before we go.”

  “Oh. That’s right.”