Kindergarten Baby: A Novel Page 8

  “Okay, so what did you expect?”

  “Sleeping Beauty. Sleeping Beauty with a lot of detail, and new information about all the characters, and vivid descriptions and—”

  “Are you saying there are no details?”

  Lindsey let out a long, slow breath. “No. Oh no. There are plenty of details.”

  “Okay, so it’s the characters? There’s not enough information about the characters?”

  She bit her lip. “No. There’s more than enough information about the characters, and lots of vivid descriptions, too. It’s just that…‌well, I didn’t think the author would spend so much time vividly describing things like body parts—private body parts.”

  “Let me see that,” said Laura, looking curious. She read a few paragraphs silently, then checked the front cover of the book, and grinned. “Linds, you forgot to read the fine print. Oh, it’s a book about Sleeping Beauty, all right. Look right there.” She pointed to some text at the bottom of the feminine-looking cover.

  “’An Erotic Fairy Tale Adventure,’” read Lindsey. “Oh, I can’t read this.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” agreed Laura, matter-of-factly. “You can’t read this. But we can!”

  Giggling, they wrapped themselves in blankets by the fire. They took turns reading the sexually explicit, bizarre fairy tale out loud, occasionally cringing, sometimes blushing, often laughing, even rereading some of the extra good parts now and then.

  Hours later, Lindsey awoke to Laura’s screaming. Why? It was too dark to see. She fumbled for the bedside light switch, and saw a man sitting on the side of Laura’s bed, topless.

  “What the…Laura?” he asked.

  “Brad?”

  “What are you doing here?” they both said at the same time.

  “This is our room,” Lindsey said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Huh. Well, all last week and earlier today, this was my father’s room,” said Brad, one eyebrow lifted.

  “That was your father?” both women exclaimed.

  “Who was my father?”

  “Well, we don’t know exactly,” Laura explained. “But a nice man offered us his room because the front desk mixed up our reservation and they didn’t have a room for us. And it was impossible to go back because we had taken the train, and—”

  “Whoa, slow down,” said Brad. “I think I’m beginning to understand now. I went to my room, discovered Dad there, and I figured he must have crashed in my room by mistake. So I decided to sleep in his room.” He grimaced. “He snores terribly.”

  “So that really was your father,” Laura said, frowning. “You seem quite different from each other. He seemed so New Yorkish and you seem so mid-westish.”

  He chuckled. “Well, it’s kind of a long story, so maybe we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow. If you’re really going hiking tomorrow, you’re going to need some rest. And…‌I’m actually a little uncomfortable sitting here in bed with you, Laura, in my underwear—”

  Laura blushed, then squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, oh, sure. Um—”

  “Laura, get in bed with me,” Lindsey ordered. “Brad, roll over and go to sleep. We can figure it all out in the morning, and that will arrive sooner than I even want to think about.”

  They did as she said, and in the morning he was gone.

  “He left a note,” Lindsey said, padding lazily from the bathroom and climbing back into bed.

  “What does it say?” Laura mumbled.

  Lindsey blinked. She’d just about fallen asleep all over again. “Huh?”

  “Brad’s note. What does it say?”

  “Oh, that he’d have breakfast sent to our room, and that he’d see us tonight if we still wanted to have dinner with him.”

  “Do we?” asked Laura.

  “Don’t we?” Lindsey countered.

  A knock at the door interrupted their banter, and Laura opened it. A young man wearing a cowboy hat and a sheepskin coat handed them a tray. Laura reached out for his arm as he began to walk away.

  “Wait. We want to tip you,” she said.

  He gave her a crooked smile and touched the brim of his hat. “No need, ma’am. Everything’s been taken care of.”

  The friends exchanged a glance, grinning at each other. Then they devoured the scrumptious breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, sour dough toast, a delicious salsa with pine nuts, and freshly squeezed juice. It was so good, neither of them said a word through the entire meal.

  The day proved to be exceptionally beautiful. The grayish-purple snow clouds had vanished completely, and the bright white sun prevailed. By ten o’clock even the wind had ceased, and the decision to take a short hike had been made. The women dressed in their warmest clothing and began the descent down the Bright Angel Trail. Between the physical exertion and the constant sunshine, they were surprisingly comfortable, despite the freezing thirty-degree temperature.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” grumbled Lindsey, though deep down she was enjoying their outdoor adventure.

  “Isn’t it fantastic?” Laura bubbled. “We’re hiking the Grand Canyon in the snow! How many people can say that?”

  Not many today, that’s for sure. In fact, the women had met no other hikers on the trail so far. They’d spotted what they thought might be the footprints of several mules, but it was hard to tell for sure because the early morning dusting of snow had mostly covered them. They noticed newer tracks of smaller animals off to the side of the trail. Rabbits and squirrels for sure, something with a narrow hoof‌—‌probably a deer‌—‌and a few prints that looked like cat prints, only larger.

  The walk downhill was relatively painless. For the most part, the snow was only about six inches deep. Once in a while they came to a drift and had to high step their way through, but that just added to the fun. Fortunately, the drifts were rare and only popped up in the wider areas of the narrow, cliff-like trail. Time passed quickly, and before long they found themselves on a large, flat mesa where most of the snow had melted under the intense sun.

  “Let’s relax for a minute,” said Laura. “Break out the trail mix. I’m starved.”

  The temperature ended up rising more than they or any of the “experts” had anticipated, so Lindsey and Laura removed their outer parkas and sat on them while they rested and enjoyed the view.

  Lindsey was the first to notice a large, majestic bird off in the distance. “What do you think that is?”

  “I’d have to get closer to know for sure,” Laura said, squinting, “but it’s either the biggest hawk I’ve ever seen or it’s an eagle. Either way, I don’t think it’s happy that we’re here. He’s definitely not smiling.”

  “I don’t think birds smile.”

  “Oh really? Have you forgotten about all those stories you told me about Milton…‌Murray—”

  “Malcolm. His name is Malcolm.”

  “Right. Malcolm. You led me to believe he did a lot of smiling, not to mention talking. And I believe he is a bird.”

  “That’s true,” she allowed. “But Malcolm is not a predator. He’s not a raptor. He eats seeds and fruit. I don’t think birds that eat other animals are ever too smiley or chummy looking.”

  Laura nodded sagely. “That makes sense. Hey, now that we’re sitting still, I’m getting a little cold. What do you say we hike to the edge of this mesa, have a look down, then head back up to the rim?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Estimating mileage in the canyon turned out to be more difficult than they’d imagined. They never reached the mesa’s edge after all. Instead, they headed back right after catching a glimpse of the Colorado River in the distance. The air was incredibly still, so quiet and serene it made their ears ring. When the large bird returned, swooping near them, its huge wings created a loud whooshing sound as they pushed against the air.

  “Whoa!” they both screamed breathlessly, ducking out of the way.

  “That was no hawk or eagle,” Laura said.

  Li
ndsey shook her head. “It looked more like a pterodactyl. Wow.” She snapped a picture of the great dark bird in flight as it headed toward the cliffs. “There! That alone was worth the effort of this hike.”

  Laura chuckled. “Let’s see if you still feel that way after we hike uphill for a while. I think the ‘effort’ has only just begun.”

  By the time they were ready to ascend, it was much later than either of them had thought, and the sun was out of sight. They would need to hurry to make it back to the rim before the pending darkness engulfed them. They huffed and puffed their way up the steep, narrow trail for a while. At first it was simply exhausting. Then other difficulties set in. The warmth of the day that had made the hike down so pleasant had turned the snow to slush. When the air grew cold again, that slush became ice, and the trail became not only challenging, but also dangerous. There was no room for error. One slip in the wrong direction and even the most experienced hiker could fall over the edge. The bottom was a long way down‌—‌hundreds, even thousands of feet in some places.

  Neither Laura nor Lindsey knew anything about surviving in the wilderness. Especially in a freezing cold wilderness. Lindsey taught her students about safety and survival in the desert, but not much of that applied here. It was getting darker and colder with every step, and they weren’t even halfway back. Lindsey’s pulse raced as she realized the steepest part of the hike was still ahead of them.

  “At least I’m not cold yet,” Lindsey said, trying to be positive.

  “No, me either. In fact, I’m hot. I’m sweating. Imagine that, sweating when it’s most likely below freezing.”

  But they were both frightened, and neither wanted to admit to it. The trail was a bumpy, jagged, treacherous path of slippery ice‌—‌difficult going, to say the least. Eventually, when they were within a mile of the rim, the trail became so steep that forward, upward progress was impossible. They’d take one step forward and slip two steps back.

  “We can do this,” they said to each other, because they had no other choice.

  “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can,” Lindsey quietly chanted to herself.

  “The Little Engine That Could,” Laura said, smiling.

  “Yep. I always liked that story. That poor little train worked so hard to get up the hill. But I’ll admit, I never thought I’d be living it.” Just then, her foot slipped and she lost her balance. She pitched forward and came close to tumbling over the edge. “I can’t. I can’t do this,” she cried.

  “Yes, you can, Linds. We can and we’re going to,” Laura assured her. “Look up at the lights. You can see them now. We’ve just got to make it to those lights. It’s not that far. I think we’d better try crawling. We’re not getting anywhere trying to walk on this ice, and we can’t take the chance of falling again. Besides, we can barely see where we’re going anyway. It’s so dark.”

  Both women were strong willed, but crawling on the icy, rocky trail was excruciatingly painful, and it quickly wore them down. Their knees received more bumps and bruises in an hour than they had during their entire childhood. To make matters worse, an icy, cutting wind began to blow, pushing at them. The blowing quickly advanced to howling.

  Since they’d rounded the last switchback, the distant, beckoning lights were no longer visible.

  “What time is it?” shouted Laura, attempting to be heard above the wind.

  Lindsey pushed her glove and jacket cuff away to look at her watch, but it was hard to read in the dark. “I think it says five-thirty, but I’m not positive. Why?”

  “Actually, I was hoping it was later,” answered Laura. “No one is going to even miss us till we don’t show up for our eight o’clock dinner date.”

  “We might not even be missed then. Brad might think we decided to pass on his offer. Oh, Laura. What are we going to do? I’m so cold. I’m so tired. Every inch of me hurts, and we are making the progress of a snail.”

  “I know…‌Do you think it hurts to freeze to death?” Laura asked softly.

  Changing the subject, Lindsey asked, “Well, when we do get back and have our dinner date with Brad, which one of us will take on the role of major flirter, and which one will be the tag-along friend?”

  Laura didn’t say anything. They sat huddled together in the darkness for a few minutes, working up the strength to move ahead.

  “I keep picturing the students’ smiling faces, remembering my chat with Malcolm by the fireplace only a few nights ago, and fantasizing about curling up in Anthony’s strong arms.”

  “I’ll take your visions any day,” Laura said quietly. “I see my stubborn, independent self, still all alone. I could die and no one would miss me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  With all but one of his subjects out of town, Jake’s only choice‌—‌if he wished to continue his work over Christmas vacation‌—‌was to connect with Shawna. Usually she called him at the restaurant for a delivery, or at his apartment if she needed a dog sitter. But he hadn’t heard from her in a while, and some critical data was needed for her file. Actually, critical data was needed for each subject’s file, but today it was Shawna or nothing. He thought about going with nothing, taking the day for himself, but his driving work ethic and sense of urgency soon returned, and he was back on track.

  He had to admit that a complication now existed. He was personally involved, making it harder to be objective. Was he still objective at all? But it was too late to turn back. He’d gone too far, and time was running out. So he dialed, initiating the contact, breaking all the rules.

  “Hello,” answered a sleepy voice.

  “Shawna?”

  “Anthony?” she replied.

  “No. No, it’s Jake. Remember me?”

  “Of course. Hello, Jake. What time is it?”

  “Almost six. Sounds like you hit the hay early tonight. I’m sorry I disturbed you, I just thought—”

  There was a rustle in the background, as if she were getting out of bed. “Six o’clock? Damn! I’ve got to get up. Anthony will be here any minute. In fact, he should already be here. I’ve got to go, Jake.”

  “Okay, sure,” said Jake. “It’s just that some friends and I had a huge cookout and we’ve got lots of great steak bones left. I thought Wendell might want them. I’d hate to see them go to waste. I could drop them by on my way to work.”

  “I don’t know, Jake,” she stammered. “Anthony is angry with me, and now he’s an hour later than usual. I want to plan something special for him. It’s almost Christmas, and I can’t have my lover mad at me over the holidays. That simply wouldn’t do. Can I call you later?”

  She hung up without waiting for an answer, and Jake stared at his phone. Was he losing his touch? He’d always gotten what he wanted from women before‌—‌with the exception of his first love‌—‌at least in the work-a-day or academic world. Now what should he do? Perhaps today was a day to forget about school, work, lost loves, and new loves. Maybe he’d just go out and relax.

  “Pretty bird. Pretty bird,” squawked Malcolm.

  Jake sighed. “All right, Malcolm. I’ll stay. But I’m opening that bottle of vodka that’s been in the freezer for three months.” He mixed a vodka and grape juice, then a vodka and 7-Up, and finally a vodka with coke. Except for the occasional glass of wine, Jake didn’t usually drink, so three vodkas in a relatively short period of time was more than he could handle.

  Malcolm kept the conversation going as the vodka dwindled. The little bird reminded Jake of Lindsey every time it opened its little beak. And tonight its beak was wide open.

  “Damn it, Malcolm,” he said, his words sloppy. “I know. She’s so likable. She’s so…‌so…‌everything. I like everything about her.”

  He scribbled some handwritten notes in Lindsey’s file, though they took on a less professional, less objective tone as the evening progressed.

  Lindsey: Her loneliness took a turn for the worse as the pending divorce slugged her in the face. She still hopes Anthony will come
back someday. Hope has faded and her reaction was to withdraw. She’s hit a new low, a dangerous low, which could have resulted in serious, physical damage. Example: falling asleep outside in snowy, sub-freezing temperatures. Was she conscious of this danger? Don’t know. Was she attempting to end her life? Don’t know‌—‌yet. But a bird saved her‌—‌why couldn’t it have been me?

  “I would have saved her,” he told Malcolm, feeling miserable. “I should have saved her. I still want to save her. I want to rescue her from her loneliness. Instead, I was outdone by a bird. I should be her hero, her knight in…‌khaki shorts—”

  The phone range, bringing him back. “Hello?”

  “Now look who sounds sleepy,” taunted Shawna, fully awake. “I need your help. I don’t have time to explain it all now ‘cause I’ve got work to do, but I need your dog sitting services for about twenty-four hours. Can you do it? Can you pick up Wendell and keep him at your place?”

  “Uh, sure. I guess so,” he replied.

  “Good. The key is under the mat. See you tomorrow.”

  When Jake arrived at Shawna’s house, Wendell was obviously glad to see him. His tail drew huge circles in the air, and his smiling face was all Jake needed to remember how much he really did like this dog. Not just because he was the gimmick to get close to Shawna, or because he was the second love of Lindsey’s life. He was a great dog, and he had won a place in Jake’s heart on his own merits.

  “Hey, buddy. How ya doing? Ready to go for a ride?”

  They were about to leave when it occurred to him that he might as well do some research while he was there. Just a little. He wouldn’t touch anything; he’d just have a look around. A bit unethical, yes, but only a little. He wandered through the house looking for clues, information, signs‌—‌anything that might help him understand Shawna’s life a little better.

  He needed details, which included more information than she’d been willing to reveal. She’d been such an enthusiastic, talkative subject at first, but during the past few months her comments had become calculated and controlling. He hadn’t been able to crack the code with this one. The other women in his research made sense. Their profiles supported, for the most part, his hypothesis. But Shawna, well, she was different. On the surface she seemed like your everyday, gorgeous nymphomaniac, looking for love, attention, and money. Strangely though, she appeared to already have plenty of money, which he assumed was family money, and was receiving plenty of love and attention. Jake sensed a dark side, and it was this unknown factor that kept him wandering through the house with Wendell by his side.