When I woke up the next morning, I was freezing. I had fallen asleep on the bed underneath the open window and had never crawled under the blanket. I was stiff and sore all over.
I got up and dug through my bags until I found a towel. I stumbled to the bathroom and took a hot shower. It helped my neck loosen up a little bit.
It wasn’t until I was back in the room that I realized that Gregg wasn’t in his bed. In fact, none of his stuff had been touched. I was sure he hadn’t been home last night at all. I wondered where he had gone. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I hurried into the living room.
He was asleep on the couch. I was torn between relief and anger. I was glad he was there; I really didn’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been. But I was also more than a little angry with him. Throwing a tantrum like a six year old, and then sleeping out here on the sofa, complete with a warm comforter. He probably slept better than I did last night. Irritated, I went to the kitchen for some food. I had been hungry last night; I was positively starving now.
I rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, not all that worried about making too much noise. Gregg needed to get up anyway, and if I woke Rocky up, well, it was his fault for not showing us around the kitchen last night. In the very back of the refrigerator, I managed to find an egg carton.
There were two eggs left. Then I located some oil and a skillet. Without bothering to look at the expiration date, I scrambled the eggs, but then I was disappointed not to find any ketchup for them. I was even more disappointed in the cereal selection. Granola? That was it? There wasn’t even any milk for the cereal. No orange juice either.
As I sat there, munching on the dry and virtually tasteless granola, I spied a pad of paper and half a pencil. I started a serious grocery list. Milk, OJ, frosted flakes, bagels, cream cheese, Coke. After seeing the mostly empty shelves in the pantry, I added macaroni and cheese, spaghetti and sauce, wheat bread, and peanut butter to the list. Apples, oranges, and carrots. Lettuce. I stopped there. There wasn’t much point in making a list. I might as well write “food.” Rocky barely had anything to eat in the whole house.
“What time is it?” Gregg mumbled from the doorway.
“A little after seven.”
“Ugh. I can’t believe I’m up this early.” He turned and slumped back down the hall to the bedroom.
I pulled a chair up to the table and looked out the window while I ate the rest of my eggs. I heard the refrigerator door open.
“There’s not much in there,” I said without turning around. “I’m surprised Uncle Rocky doesn’t look more like an anorexic and less like the Hulk with the amount of food he keeps around here.”
“I told you, it’s just Rocky,” Rocky said.
I jumped. “Oh. Sorry. Thought you were Gregg.”
“So I gathered.” He put some water in the kettle and came to join me at the table. “I’m sorry about the food. I told you I usually shop on Tuesdays.”
“Yeah, but today’s only Saturday.”
“I know. I’ll find time to get to the store today. Just write up a list.”
“It’s on the counter.”
Rocky blinked. “Already?”
I shrugged. “Well, the first part. I’ll have to really look and add to it later.”
“What kind of grades do you get in school?”
I looked at him. “I’ve always done pretty well. Why?”
He just nodded. “Thought so.”
“Hey, Scott, where’d you get this comforter?” Gregg called from the bedroom.
I looked at Rocky. “Just tell him to leave it on the couch,” he said quietly.
“Leave it on the couch,” I called to him.
“Can’t do that, Scott. You know he wants us to ‘keep the place clean,’”
Gregg said in a deep voice as he came back into the kitchen. “We sure don’t want to make him mad again—” He broke off when he saw Rocky.
“You haven’t seen me angry yet,” Rocky said mildly as he got up to take the kettle off the stove. “Anyone for tea?”
“I’ll take coffee,” Gregg said.
Rocky sighed and turned to me. “Where’s that list?”
I nodded to the counter, and he turned and jotted coffee at the bottom.
“Thanks for the blanket last night, Scott,” Gregg said. “I would have frozen without it.”
I started to say that I didn’t have anything to do with it, but Rocky started coughing and shaking his head pretty violently. I didn’t say anything.
I stood up and stretched, wincing when my back cracked. Gregg looked at me. “You look awful. Didn’t you sleep last night?”
I shook my head. “Not very well.”
“No wonder. You must’ve slept with the window wide open all night long.” He turned to the pantry and stared. “What are we supposed to eat?”
“Here,” I said, pushing the box of granola to him.
He made a face. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid there’s not much else,” Rocky began.
Gregg turned to the refrigerator and yanked it open. “God, there’s nothing in here!” He turned back to Rocky, furious. “What the hell were you thinking? You’ve known we were coming for the last five days! You don’t even have enough to keep us on a bread and water diet!”
“Gregg, I’m sorry, but—” Rocky tried again.
“Why didn’t you just tell the judge the truth, that you don’t want us?
Why didn’t you just let us stay in California, where people are really human and we had friends we could have stayed with? You don’t pick us up, you don’t accept our calls, you don’t have any food…We would have been better off on the streets!”
“Excuse me,” a new voice said, and we all jumped.
Laura was standing in the door to the kitchen, holding a brown paper grocery bag and looking extremely uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to intrude. I knocked, but I don’t think anyone heard me.”
“That’s okay, Laura,” Rocky said, rubbing a hand over his face. “What’s up?”
“Um, I got to thinking last night about the way you tend to stock your fridge and I thought maybe the boys might need a little more than you have to offer right now.”
He looked at her with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. “You couldn’t be more right,” he murmured.
She set the bag on the table, and Gregg dug right in. He pulled out an apple, two chocolate donuts, and a pint of orange juice. “Thanks,” he said in Laura’s general direction. Then he left, muttering under his breath.
We were all quiet for a few minutes. Laura was watching Rocky sympathetically. The sound of the bathroom door slamming broke the silence.
“Scott?” Laura turned to me. “Don’t you want anything?”
I hesitated, then asked, “You have any fruit left?”
She nodded. “Apple or orange?”
“I’ll take an orange. Thanks,” I said as she tossed me one.
Rocky was leaning over his lap, elbows on his knees. He looked up at me. “I’m sorry, Scott,” he said, shaking his head. “I was going to do some shopping yesterday, but a couple of checks bounced and I didn’t have enough money to cover everything.”
“Don’t the grocery stores take credit cards?” I asked.
He grimaced. “Yes, but I don’t have any credit cards. I don’t believe in them.”
Laura laughed and ruffled his hair. “You wouldn’t believe in checks, either, if you had a choice.”
He momentarily leaned his head into her hand. “Nope,” he said. “How can you manage the store, your life, and my life all at the same time?”
She laughed again and just shook her head.
He straightened up and looked at me. “I didn’t realize your window was open last night, or I would have closed it.”
I shrugged. “It’s all right.”
“Well,” he said quickly. “We’d better get going to the office.” He looked at me. “You’ll probably want to wear shorts. I know it’s a little chilly now, but the forecast for later today says it’s gonna hit the upper 80s.”
When Rocky had said office, for some reason I pictured an office building with an elevator and lots of people working, wearing suits and ties. If I had thought at all, I would have realized that when you work for a rafting company, you don’t wear a suit or tie. And you surely wouldn’t have an office in a skyscraper.
The Rugged Rapids “office” was a small, one-story, two-room building only a mile from Rocky’s house. The main room was the sales room. It had T-shirts, sunglasses, sunscreen, rain ponchos, and a bunch of other stuff. The small room in the back was Rocky’s private office.
“Scott, I’m going to have you work with Bob today.” He pointed in the direction of a wiry blond guy who had his left arm in a sling. “Bob, these are my nephews, Scott and Gregg.”
“Hey,” he said, nodding.
Before we could say anything, Rocky started up again. “Scott, you’ll stay here and learn how to work the cash register and how to take reservations.
You’ll also learn the transportation run for Brown’s Canyon.” He paused.
“When do you turn sixteen?”
“Um, November,” I said, startled by the shift in conversation.
“November. Well, that’s not going to do us any good this summer, but we should still get you your learner’s permit.” He turned to Bob. “When you book the rafts this morning, do the best you can to leave an empty spot on Roger’s raft.”
“Sure thing, Rocky. We gonna start a training run?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He turned and headed toward a door in the back of the building. “Come on, guys.”
I started to follow him out, but I stopped at the door. Gregg was still checking out the T-shirts. “Gregg!”
“In a minute, in a minute.”
I waited, but I could tell that he wasn’t going to hurry. I stepped out the door and almost walked into Rocky, who was coming back to get us. “Where’s Gregg?”
“He’s coming,” I said, starting on my way toward the group of people pulling rafts out.
Rocky sighed and fell in step with me. “He sure has made up his mind.” “Can you blame him?” I retorted. Rocky raised an eyebrow at me. “Not really. But then that doesn’t explain you.” He stopped walking and turned to me.
I shrugged as I stopped and faced him. “My brother and I have always been different,” I said. “Most family members would know that by now.”
“You two seem to be about as different as my brother and I were.” He paused for a minute. “I just hope you respect each other’s differences more than we did.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
He laughed. “Older than I look and younger than I feel.”
“No, really, how old are you? You can’t be more than thirty.” Rocky smiled. “You’re pretty close, Scott.” He hesitated. “And I bet you’re asking ’cause you’re pretty surprised by the age difference between your father and me. And I bet you’re thinking that our age difference might have been one of the reasons we were never very close.” Rocky put a hand on my shoulder and started walking toward the rafts again. “And I bet that one of the reasons you get good grades is because you’re pretty perceptive.”
A wide gravel road led from the office to the river. Behind and to the right of the office stood a large dirty-brown barn. I watched as four guys carried out two rafts and lined them up behind six others on the bank of the river.
“Can I have everyone’s attention for a minute?” Rocky called. They didn’t stop what they were doing, but everyone kind of slowed down and drifted in our general direction.
“I’d like you to meet my nephews, Scott and Gregg,” he said, tilting his head back and to the left. I looked over my left shoulder and was surprised to see Gregg about fifteen feet behind me. “They’re going to be living with me now and helping us out around here. So when you get the chance, introduce yourselves, and if you see they need help with something, give ’em a hand.”
There was a general murmuring and moving about before they all went back to work.
“Roger!” Rocky called.
A big burly blond guy left the side of the farthest raft and headed toward us. He appeared to be a younger version of Rocky. He looked a lot more like Rocky’s brother than my father had.
“Yeah, Boss?”
“I’d like you to work with Gregg,” Rocky said, drawing Gregg forward.
“We’re going to train him to be a guide. He doesn’t have any rafting experience.”
“How do you know?” Gregg demanded.
Rocky looked at him. “Okay, how much rafting experience do you have?”
“I went tubing down a river twice.”
“Actually it was more of a creek,” I chimed in. Gregg shot me a dirty look. Rocky sighed and resumed his instructions. “He doesn’t have any rafting experience, so the first few days he’s just going to ride with you and balance out your crews. Make sure he pays attention to the rapids’ names and their specific hazards. I’ll take him for training on the oar boat when you think he knows the river well. He can be our supply man when he’s ready to run the river, and by the time he turns eighteen, he’ll be able to guide the paddle boats.”
“Sounds good,” Roger said. “Come on, Gregg, let’s get you outfitted.”
“Oh, Roger,” Rocky said. “I’ve got their jackets hanging in the barn with the rest of the staff’s.”
Then Rocky led me to a tanned girl with short brown hair. “Carol?
Would you teach Scott how to top off the rafts and show him how to fit a life jacket?”
“Sure thing,” she said brightly.
“I’ve got to get back up to the office,” Rocky said. “Pay attention, and you’ll learn a lot. Ask any questions you need to. In this business, you can’t know too much.” Then he left, leaving me with her.
“Okay, Scott,” she said, “Rocky didn’t really do an official introduction, so I’m Carol.” She shook my hand with a firm grasp. “I’ve been a guide for the last four years, but this is my first year down here on the Arkansas.”
“Where were you before?”
“Up in Fort Collins, working the Poudre. But I graduated this spring, and I wanted to try something new.”
“Cool,” I said, because it felt like I should say something.
We walked over to a gray raft. The bright purple Rugged Rapids logo on the sides stood out in contrast.
“This,” she said, slapping the raft, “is your typical sixteen-foot paddle raft. It has four separate air bladders. The ones on the outside of the raft are just called tubes. The two center ones are the thwarts.” She tapped a round valve. “Each bladder needs to be topped off every time we take the rafts out.
They should be tight, like a drum.”
She handed me a pump. “I’ll let you try this by yourself, and I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you’ve done.”
“Um, Carol,” I said as she turned to go. “I have absolutely no idea how to do this.”
She grinned and came back. “Good.”
“What do you mean, good?”
“Promise not to tell?”
“Sure.”
“You passed my test. Most guys who think they’re macho would have just tried it without asking for help. Now I know that I can give you instructions and if you don’t understand, you’ll ask.”
We spent the next ten minutes topping off the raft. She also explained that it was important to check them again after they were set in the water.
“The cold water makes the hot air contract, and the tubes deflate a little,” she said when I asked why we had to do it twice.
In the barn, there was a storeroom full of life jackets. We made several trips carrying them outside, until we had created a pile behind the rafts.
“You’ll have to help us get the patrons fitted for jackets before they leave.”
She picked up a jacket and had me put it on, then showed me how to tighten it. “How’s that feel?”
“Fine, I guess.”
“Okay, now here’s an important test for each jacket. After they’re on and fastened, you need to lift it up at the shoulders.” She grabbed the shoulders and jerked up hard. I was lifted an inch or two off the ground. “Now that’s a good fit.” She loosened the straps a little and did it again. I stayed on the ground, and the jacket started to come off over the top of my head. “That’s a bad fit.”
I nodded. “Why does it have to fit so tight?”
“If anyone falls off the raft, the best way to get them back in the raft is to lean over, grab them by the jacket, and lift them in. If the jacket’s too loose, it might slip off, and the patron could very easily drown.”
“Oh. But that doesn’t happen often, right?”
“What?”
“Drowning.”
Carol shrugged. “People die every year on rivers. Last year we had a lot of high water, and ten people drowned in Colorado.”
“Any on this river?” I tried to sound casual.
“Two, I think.”
I started to say something, but nothing would come out. I think Carol finally realized that I was nervous. “Scott, this is a sport that people enjoy because it is a little dangerous, even for very experienced rafters. It only gets very dangerous for people who are inexperienced or who do stupid things. More than half of last year’s drownings happened because the person wasn’t wearing a life jacket. You have to respect the power of the river.”
I nodded and tried to relax, but all I could do was look around restlessly. Gregg was talking to Roger at his raft, testing the fit of a life jacket.
Carol laughed and gave me a playful shove. “Hey, relax, we’re pros here.” When I didn’t give her a wholehearted grin in return, she continued, “Scott, listen. Roger may act like a jerk sometimes, but he’s really a pro. He grew up on this river, and he’s been a guide for the last four years. He’s never flipped a raft, which is amazing for anybody. He won’t let anything happen to your brother. Jeez, I didn’t know you were gonna get so serious on me,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I never used to worry about Gregg. He was always the daredevil and I was the bookworm, and that’s just the way things were. Now his fascination with stupid stunts scared me. I didn’t want to lose him too.
I helped her carry out another raft and we topped it off. She explained the safety line, a rope that hung around the outside of the raft all the way around. It was a place to grab on if you ever went for an unplanned swim while rafting.
This raft was an oar boat, and it had a metal frame on it. She explained how the guide would handle the oars, while the patrons just got to sit back and relax on the ride. She also told me that oar boats were a little more stable, a little easier to turn quickly on the river. I looked at the other boats.
Three of them were missing the oar frame.
“Why do you use the other boats, if the oar boats are better?”
Carol grinned. “Well, that’s all a matter of opinion. One reason people really enjoy paddle boats is because then they’re directly involved with the rafting. They help control where the raft goes. The success of the trip depends on each paddler doing his or her best. It’s more of a personal challenge.”
She showed me where to stow the extra life jacket and paddle or oar, depending on the type of raft. State law requires that each raft carry a spare.
What the spare would be for, I couldn’t see. From what she had said about somebody slipping out of a jacket, it seemed more likely to me that we’d be left with an extra jacket and no body, not the other way around.
A few of the guys began loading rafts onto a trailer behind an old school bus. Other people were wandering down to the rafts in groups and pairs. Some of the guides began helping them search through the huge mound of life jackets for one that fit. I walked over and helped a couple of ladies. I tried to hide my nervousness, because they just assumed that I knew what I was doing. I made sure their jackets were tight, and gave them each a tug. They took it all as something they expected.
I noticed Rocky standing on the trailer by the rafts. He waited a few minutes, and then whistled really loud. “Okay,” he boomed, “it looks like everyone has a jacket, and I know you all signed the release form up at the store. Thanks for reading all the material we gave you and paying close attention to the instructions. I just want to remind you that it is extremely important for you to listen to the guide on your raft. I’d like to say just your life may depend on it, but I can’t do that. The fact is, everyone’s life in your raft may depend on it!
“Your guides are all experienced professionals who have been through rigorous training to be able to work for me. They are also trained in CPR and first aid.
“Today’s weather looks pretty cloudless, so make sure you’ve got plenty of sunscreen with you and use it. Wear a hat and good sunglasses. You’re going to need them. Your guides will go over additional rules and responsibilities with you when you board their rafts.”
“Those of you who signed up for the Royal Gorge trip, please go ahead and board the bus at this time. And just in case you forgot which trip you’ve signed up for, here’s who should be on the bus.”
Rocky stopped and drank some water while Laura called out the names for the Royal Gorge trip. “By the way, make sure you pick up a helmet before you get on the bus. Rafters are required to have helmets in the Royal Gorge.”
“Okay. Now for our Brown’s Canyon trips. First, we have Lou’s boat.” A man with fiery red hair lifted a Rockies baseball cap in the air. Laura called the five people on his boat. Then she moved on to Joe, Barb, Rocky, and finally Roger. She had only four people on Roger’s boat; Gregg was going to learn and balance out the crew at the same time.
I wandered over to Gregg. He wasn’t wearing one of the ugly orange jackets that all the patrons had on. He had a sharp blue one on, with his name written on it. “Where’d you get the jacket?”
He jerked his thumb back toward the barn. “There’s one with your name too,” he said. “Don’t you need a helmet?” I asked him.
Gregg was watching Roger. Roger was talking to the girls I had helped with the jackets. They looked to be a couple of years younger than Roger, and the blond was batting her eyelashes for all she was worth. The brunette kept sliding glances at Gregg. He grinned back at her.
“Gregg?”
He tore his eyes away from his admirer with an effort. “What?”
“Where’s your helmet?” I repeated.
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Roger said they’re not required in Brown’s Canyon.” He gazed back over to the girls.
“Hey, Gregg,” I said. “Be careful, huh?”
He looked at me funny. “Why? This is going to be a rush!”
Then Roger said, “Come on, Baxter Boys, let’s get this baby in the water!” He grabbed his side of the raft and Gregg grabbed the other, which left me with the back end to grab. I felt pretty stupid, pretending to carry it with them, but I didn’t want to look like I wasn’t carrying any of the weight either.
“Okay, Mark and John? Is that right, John?” Roger continued, almost ignoring the nods he got. “Mark and John, you both take the front positions. Then we’ll have Debbie in the middle in front of Gregg.” He pointed the brunette over to my brother. “Stacey will be in front of me,” he added as he directed her over to his side.
Lou and Barb’s boats were already beginning to drift downriver, and their lighthearted chatter floated toward the shore.
“You’re riding sweep, Roger!” Rocky hollered as his raft left the shore.
“Okay, go ahead and hop in,” Roger said to his crew. Then he motioned me over to him. He was holding the line that was keeping the raft from drifting. “This is the bowline,” he said, rolling it in loops. “It’s very important to keep it free of tangles and to keep it coiled up when not tying the boat off.” He finished the loops and wrapped them into one bundle.
Everyone else was in the boat, waiting for him. “Tomorrow, you’re in charge of my bowline.” He gave the boat another push and hopped in.
Gregg turned and waved his paddle at me as they drifted down the river.
I spent the day with Bob in the shop.
“Do you read a lot?” was one of his first questions.
“Well, yeah,” I said, shrugging and wondering if Gregg had been spreading the word about my geeky bookworm habits.
“You might want to pick out a few good books to read and keep here.
The days that you’re stuck here seem to go on forever. We’ll finish the cleaning in about forty-five minutes, and then we just sit here for the rest of the day.”
I looked at him. He was tall and had an athletic build and a good tan.
“You don’t look like this is what you usually do.”
“Oh, no,” he said with a huge crooked grin. “I’m a river runner. But last week I took a group on an oar raft down the Gorge, and one of the oar locks popped.” He pointed to his sling. “Sprained my wrist. But Rocky’s cool. He’s trying to get me as much office time as he can. It’s only minimum wage, but every bit helps. He also gives me a cut of the tips.”
“Sounds fair.”
“Yeah, but it’s not something all rafting companies would do. You take care of Rocky and work hard, and when he gets the chance to take care of you, he will.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And how much is he paying you to say that?”
“Say what?”
“Never mind.”
“So, we start by sweeping the floor and doing the windows. Which one do you want?”
“Which one is easier for you to do?”
He grinned. “I’m a little better at the windows.”
“Sounds good.”
He got out the window cleaner and the “manual vacuum,” a little push-brush contraption that was used on the stiff carpet, and we started to work.
“How long have you been a river guide?” I asked.
“Oh, about three years.”
“All of them with Rocky?”
“No, just the last two. I knew Rocky before, though. When I was in high school, I helped out at a rafting company upriver where Rocky was a guide.”
“How long has he been a guide?”
“Rocky? I don’t know, since the river started flowing maybe?”
We laughed and worked in silence for a few minutes. Then the phone rang, and Bob took a reservation. He motioned me over and showed me the paperwork as he filled it out. When he hung up, we went over it again in detail, and he showed me where the trip schedule and price list were, as well as how to ring a sale on the cash register.
As we resumed cleaning, Bob asked me, “So when was the last time your family got to visit Rocky?”
“I met him for the first time last night.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Wow, that’s got to be hard. I mean, losing your parents like that, and then having to come out here. It would be bad enough having to leave home and come out to live with your uncle, but man, if you don’t even know him!” He was shaking his head.
“It hasn’t started off as the best summer in my memory,” I said.
“No, I guess not.” He hesitated. “What happened to your parents? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
I shrugged. “They were driving home from a party. Dad misjudged a turn and ran head-on into a bus. They weren’t wearing seat belts.”
“Oh, God, that sucks!”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Gregg and I have been saying.” I went back to sweeping the floor, putting my back to him and hiding the sudden tears.
“How old are you guys?”
I cleared my throat and covered it with a cough. “I’m fifteen, he’s seventeen. You?”
“I’m twenty-one, same as Roger, Jim, and Carol. The rest of the staff is between eighteen and twenty-six.”
“So far they seem like a pretty friendly group.”
Bob nodded. “Rocky’s gonna make Gregg a guide?”
“That’s his plan right now. Gregg wasn’t too excited about it last night, but he seemed okay with it this morning.”
“He’ll like Roger. Roger knows how to have a good time.” Bob laughed.
“Roger really knows how to have a good time. He just turned twenty-one a few months ago and he’s really gotten into his drinking. Our whole staff likes to party, but Roger, he’s our chief partier.”
“Then he and Gregg will get along,” I agreed. “Gregg’s always been into parties and pranks.”
Bob laughed again. “Then Rocky either has a perfect partnership in the making, or a huge rebellion on his hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rocky used to be quite the party animal too, from what I’ve heard, but he’s not anymore. In fact, several staff members from last year quit. Rocky was always on their case for partying too much. According to them, he’s become really lame.”
“Which means either Gregg and Roger are going to have a lot of fun by themselves—” I began.
“Or they’re going to have too much fun and get in a lot of trouble with Rocky,” Bob finished.