“Maybe the deer are coming through,” I said, trying to ease Patrick’s fear, but I knew the deer were bedded down in the woods somewhere. They wouldn’t be out late at night wandering around an old campground.
The horses were edgy. They whinnied and stomped and pulled on the end of their leads, nervously trying to put distance between themselves and whatever was approaching our camp. If it were just me I’d stay in the tent. No matter what was out there, it wasn’t worth a confrontation. It would just sniff around or raid the Jeep and go on its way. I wasn’t alone though; it was Patrick, Randy and the horses I was worried about.
As I was deciding whether to venture outside the tent the sounds changed dramatically. The sound of crunching leaves stopped and was suddenly replaced by crunching gravel and then a soft mechanical groaning noise as something pushed down on one end of the Jeep. I heard snuffling noises and then the horses went ballistic. They reared and whinnied and then there was a crashing sound as the horses pulled the Jeep into the rocks surrounding the parking spot. I grabbed the rifle and unzipped the tent in time to see a bear following the Jeep, jerking its way across the campground like a cat toy, only this was no cat. This bear wanted dinner and it smelled food inside the Jeep.
“Randy!” I yelled, switching on the big flashlight. “We’ve got a bear in camp and it’s scaring the horses! Patrick, stay here! Whatever you do don’t go near the bear or the Jeep! Even if the Jeep looks safe don’t go near it. It’s what the bear wants.”
Randy was out of his tent faster than I thought possible. He was unarmed but charged the bear waving his arms and yelling, “Yahhhh, yahhhh,” as though he was driving a herd of horses away. The bear took one look and ran towards the Jeep, which panicked the horses even more. They took off running, the Jeep bumping along behind them. Every once in a while I heard a crash as the Jeep hit another rock or stump. As I followed the ruckus I imagined the story I was going to have to tell my insurance company. There was a loud crash and then the Jeep stood still because the horses had run on opposite sides of a tree. I cringed as I imagined the impact on their heads. I hoped they weren’t injured but I couldn’t see how they would come out of this unscathed.
“Let the bear have the Jeep for now. Take care of the horses!” I yelled.
As we moved toward the Jeep to unclip the horses’ leads the bear moved forward, its beady eyes gleaming amber in the flashlight beam.
“I’ll cover you if you want to give it a try,” I said.
“That thing looks like a toy,” he said, referring to my rifle. “Will it take down a bear? What are you shooting?”
“Forty-fives.”
“You know how to shoot a bear with a forty-five?”
“In the dark? With only half an idea of where it is?”
“You’re not helping much.”
“Okay, then you cover me,” I said, handing him the rifle. “Don’t shoot unless you absolutely have to. I’ve been six feet from a charging bear and still didn’t shoot. Don’t panic.”
I snuck around the Jeep and peered over the hood. The bear smacked the side of the Jeep with its huge paw as if to say, “My Jeep!” Then it proceeded to tear a large hole in the canvas top. I reached for a lead rope, followed it down to the bumper and shined the flashlight beam on the clip. The bear eyed me warily and faked a charge. I jumped behind the Jeep and Randy tensed. I snuck around again and unclipped the lead. The frightened horse reared, lifting me off the ground. I grabbed the rope with both hands and pulled him in, then led the horse to a distant tree. I could tell by the sound of its movements that it was Mack and he had a sore leg. I clipped the rope around the trunk of the tree and went back for Shasta. He was on the side of the Jeep closer to the bear. I followed the flashlight beam back to the Jeep and found the other lead rope. The bear threatened me, charging a little. He stopped just short, afraid to get too close to a person. I froze, then relaxed as he turned his attention back to the Jeep. Every time I approached the vehicle he charged. When I backed off he went back to his investigation. Finally I decided to ignore his threats and nervously took the time to unclip the lead rope. The bear charged to within several feet of me and I raised my hands and yelled at the bear. Randy’s hands tensed and the rifle shook as the inevitable questions bounced around in his mind. How late was too late? How close should he let the bear get? Shasta bucked and snorted. The bear stopped and backed off a step. He wasn’t mad enough to take a risk yet. Pesky humans. Why couldn’t they let a bear eat in peace? I led Shasta away from the Jeep and the bear while Randy followed in the dark.
“Go get Patrick. He’s probably scared to death,” Randy told me.
I picked my way back to camp.
“Patrick?” I called as I neared the tents. “It’s okay. You can come out now.”
“I don’t want to,” came his muffled voice from underneath several layers of covers.
I unzipped the door and crawled into the tent. I found Patrick buried as much as could be beneath two down sleeping bags.
“Yahhhh,” we heard in the distance. “The food’s in the Jeep, you stupid bear!”
“It’s okay, really. The bear is just looking for a snack. The worst that can happen is he steals all our food.”
“No it’s not. I’ll come out when you know the horses are all right. I’m scared for the horses. Steve shot a horse because it couldn’t walk. He killed it! I can’t stand to see a horse get shot. If I hear a shot I’m gonna cry and if I’m gonna cry it’s not going to be in front of Randy.”
“I won’t let him shoot either of the horses,” I told Pat but the sharp crack of a shot split the air sending Patrick diving deeper under the covers.
“Pat, you don’t know what that shot was. Randy was probably trying to scare the bear away. Are you sure you’ll be okay here? Can I trust you to stay if I leave you? I can’t be worrying about where you are. If I go help Randy I need to know you’ll stay here.”
“I’ll stay here,” he promised.
Reluctantly I left the tent and went back to help Randy.
“What was that shot?” I called as I approached.
“Warning shot,” he answered.
“Patrick won’t come out,” I said quietly. “He’s afraid you’re going to shoot one of the horses.”
“I might shoot me a bear, but I won’t shoot a horse, least ways not till morning when I get a proper look.”
We shined the flashlight up and down the horses’ legs and saw that Mack had a couple of gashes from hitting his legs on tree branches. Randy wasn’t sure about Shasta’s knee. He’d have to check it in the morning when there was better light.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep while I guard the horses? I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk them any farther than we have to until we know the condition of their legs,” Randy said.
“There’s no way I could sleep with you out here and that bear roaming around. You go sleep and I’ll guard the horses.”
“You expect me to leave you out here?” he asked.
“There’s no use in both of us being out here,” I pointed out. “I could take down that bear if I had to. I just have a slightly different version of have to than some people.”
“Look, you and I both know I can’t go home and tell your Dad I let you take first watch with a bear tearing up your Jeep. He’s going to be ticked enough that the horses got hurt. I’m not going to add insult to injury, so go back to camp. At least you can talk to Patrick.”
“Okay, but I’m going to be back in a few hours and I expect you to let me take over. Deal?”
“Deal.”
I aimed the flashlight on the tents to point myself in the right direction and then handed the flashlight over to Randy. I felt my way towards camp and finally brushed gently up against tent fabric. I felt the tent to be sure it was the right one, then unzipped the door and crawled in.
“It’s okay, Patrick. Did you hear Randy? He promised he wouldn’t do anything to the horses until he could look them over in the daylight and I won’t let him shoot them. I’ll let them stay at my house if they need doctoring. I can fix up the barn and they will be fine at my house if they need to stay.”
“Where’s Randy?”
“He’s guarding the horses. We didn’t want to walk them through the woods in the dark. We were afraid they might hurt themselves more so he’s staying with them for now. I’ll take over in a little while. Let me have a sleeping bag. Are you warm enough?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let’s go to sleep. Just relax. Let the warmth relax you and try to get back to sleep.”
“How are you going to know when to switch with Randy?”
“Timed sleep is another thing I learned in the military. I’ve got a good feel for how long two hours is. I bet the bear is long gone in two hours.”
We settled down and I dozed off quickly, knowing it was going to be a very short night for me and a long watch afterwards.
After awakening I was happy to note it was still dark and Patrick was sound asleep. I pulled on my shoes and quietly slipped out of the tent. I headed in the right direction and after a short while I asked Randy to say something so I could find him.
“Over here,” he said and turned on the flashlight.
I headed for the light.
“Do you think there will be any food left?” he asked.
“Well, last time a bear ate my food it only ate the things that were loose or in paper wrappers. She ate my oatmeal, hot chocolate, trail mix and beef jerky but she left the backpacker food that was in foil pouches. We’ll just have to see about this guy. Go get some sleep. I haven’t heard any yelling or shooting so he must be settling down some. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t trust you,” Randy said. “If I leave you’re going to try and stalk it or something. I can just see it now, you telling your dad you touched a wild bear.”
“I won’t stalk it. I hadn’t even thought about that until you mentioned it. I prefer to keep my arms and legs. Now go get some sleep and use the big tent so Patrick won’t wake up and get scared.”
Randy shined the flashlight towards the camp and then started tromping off in the right direction. A few minutes later I heard cussing, then, “Cassidy? Show me where the stupid tent is again!”
I shined the light on the tent until I heard a distant, “Okay,” coming back from camp.
Compared to the watches I’d kept in the military this one was actually very entertaining. At least the bear made digging and snuffling noises. I didn’t hear any ripping, tearing or metal bending sounds so there was some hope for my Jeep, too. I knew the canvas top was a loss but that could easily be replaced. When the bear got tired of digging for his grub he started looking for a way out. I wished I had a movie camera as I watched, in the beam of the flashlight while the bear pushed and shoved gently against the canvas top. Each time it resisted he turned and poked at another spot as though he was wondering, “I know there was a door around here somewhere!” Seeing the bear inside my Jeep was like watching a clown car in a circus and wondering what would be popping out. I certainly never expected a whole black bear to fit inside my Jeep. When he finally found the hole he had entered through he was bent in half like a big fat, horseshoe. He pawed his way forward and gradually his back end twisted around, ripping big gashes in the back seats. When all of him was facing in the same direction he tumbled out from the hole in the canvas and waddled off into the woods. I breathed a sigh of relief and kept up my watch. Had I been able to move the horses closer to the tents I could have gone back to bed but I didn’t want to walk the horses until Randy had looked them over in broad daylight.
As the night wore on and the bear stayed away I opened the door and took inventory of the contents of my Jeep. In a way I was thankful the bear had easy access to the food. Had the harnesses been in the way the bear might have tasted those first rendering them useless. I started three piles: a trash pile, an eat pile, and a keep pile. My main goal was to find enough food in the Jeep to last the next day. I was relieved to discover we still had water, however food was another matter. It took a lot of digging and sorting to find ample supplies for the next day. At least I hoped it would be enough. Three backpacker meals, powdered eggs and one bar of astronaut ice cream that had been in the floorboards for who knows how long. I’d save that treat for Patrick. He’d get a kick out of freeze dried ice cream. The trash bag was filling up fast and the pile of stuff to keep was only things that the bear hadn’t been interested in or had not been in the way of more important things.
As the sun came up I looked over the horses. Mack did, indeed, have a sore leg. We’d have to take it slow walking him out. I couldn’t see anything really wrong with Shasta’s knee. I felt it and it didn’t feel hot or swollen but I trusted Randy’s opinion more than my own. I talked to the horses and petted them. When the sun was up I walked over to camp and rattled the tent.
“Randy? Wake up. It’s morning. If you’ll tend to the horses I’ll make breakfast.”
He crawled out of the tent still sleepy.
“You let me sleep the rest of the night? I was supposed to take another watch,” he said.
“No you weren’t. I was fine out there. It was actually kind of fun. The bear put on quite a show but he’s gone now. The horses don’t look as bad as we feared but I don’t think Mack will be able to pull the Jeep. We’ll have to walk him out. Supplies are low, but we’ll get by. Rusty will meet us at the trailer.”
As Randy tended to the horses I packed up the small tent. I saw him off in the distance walking Mack around watching the horse’s legs while he walked. He led Mack over and tied him to a nearby tree.
“He’s lame but I think if we take it easy we can get him out of here.”
He left Mack with a flake of hay and went back for Shasta. I started up the little camp stove and began making powdered eggs. When they were halfway cooked I woke up Patrick.
“Hey, Pat, it’s morning. The bear is gone. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“The horses. Are the horses okay? Where’s Randy?”
“Randy’s tending to the horses. Mack’s got a few cuts that will have to mend but he’ll be okay. He’s looking over Shasta now.”
Patrick was out of bed lickety split. He looked around camp then tracked the Jeep across the campground. By the time he got there he’d have a good idea of what had happened.
“Oooh cool! Aunt Cassidy! Lookit the bear tracks! That is so cool! It looks big! I wish I wasn’t so scared. I wish I saw it!”
“We barely saw it in the dark, anyway. We just saw its eyes,” I called after him. I wished I could have gone with him but we needed to get going and there were eggs cooking.
“These eggs taste weird,” Patrick observed.
“They’re freeze dried and reconstituted. You get used to it when you’ve been backpacking a little.”
The guys ate while I stuffed sleeping bags and packed up the big tent. I washed up the pan and packed up the stove, nesting it neatly inside the pan and strapping it all together with a little tie-down. When Randy and Patrick had eaten I washed the few dishes that were left and finished packing up camp. While I was heading to the Jeep with an armload of camping gear Randy confronted me, asking, “Cass, what did you have for breakfast?”
“We only had the eggs and three backpacker meals. That forces us to stop and cook lunch. We better get moving.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he pointed out.
“I’ll be fine until lunch,” I answered.
“So you let us eat all the eggs without getting any?”
“It’s okay. I’m used to getting along on trips like this. It’s only a day. When I hiked out of here alone it was two days with no food. Missing one meal is not going to hurt me.”
“Damn, fool, girl. How does that make me feel? Like a heel.”
“Randy, it’s okay, really. Come on, we need to figure out how to get this Jeep on the road and out of here. It’s going to be a slow walk. When we had two fit horses I thought we could make it out of here in good time. Now I am just hoping to get past the washed out parts of the road. What should we do if Mack can’t make it? Should we split up?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Randy answered.
As we stood there surveying the damage to the Jeep, Patrick said, “Your Jeep is never gonna be the same again.”
“It’s okay, Pat. What isn’t fixable will become experience marks. Every Jeep needs a few experience marks to show it’s had adventures.”
“This one had a doozie,” Pat said.
Randy harnessed up Shasta and attached the lines to a crossbeam. He attached towropes to the crossbeam and then to the back bumper of the Jeep.
“Cassidy, you steer and brake the Jeep. Keep the lines taut but don’t brake so much that Shasta has to fight it. Patrick, you can ride in the Jeep or you can ride Shasta. I’m going to lead Shasta and keep an eye on Mack. If things are going easy for Shasta I might ride a little. If Mack and Shasta are both doing good maybe we can pick up the pace a little. First things first, we have to get the Jeep onto the road.”
Randy guided Shasta and he gradually pulled the Jeep backwards and away from the tree. When the Jeep was well away from the tree he disconnected the towropes and reconnected them to the front bumper and we were able to move forward. He clipped Mack’s lead rope to the roll bar of the Jeep and we slowly made our way through the abandoned campground and to the washed out road leading to civilization. It was mostly a long boring walk out but in a few straight stretches Randy increased the pace to a trot while keeping a careful watch on Mack. The washed out areas were very difficult and slow to cross. We untied Mack and walked him across the gap first, then eased Shasta and the Jeep over it. The wheels got hung up in the rivulets and Shasta had to use some muscle to pull the Jeep up over one set. Then it would slip down into the next. Randy urged Shasta slowly forward and the Jeep continued to lurch its way over the rough spots. Each ridge was a chore to cross over and Randy and I ended up pushing the Jeep to give it some extra leverage. We used a branch to try pushing the wheel up and over an extra high bump. When we’d crossed the washout we stopped and let Shasta rest. It was going to be a long, tiring day.
This was work for Shasta, not because of the labor involved but because he was cooped up all day. It would have been like giving me a desk job. Randy sensed this in him, too, so in the straight stretches he let Shasta trot.
Patrick was soon bored. He switched from riding in the Jeep to riding Shasta. Whenever we were stuck he’d spend time looking for birds and tracks. When he was in the Jeep he pressed me for more stories by asking questions about Rusty’s family and Chase. Since Christmas Patrick had spoken to Chase more often than I had, which didn’t surprise me at all. Chase had given Patrick his phone number and told him to call if he ever had questions about tracking.
“So, what did you ask Chase when you called him?” I asked.
“I talked to him for a long time. I asked him if he thought foxes would come near the house because I found red fur in the weeds. All the dogs have black or white or tan fur. None of them have fuzzy red fur. And he told me to look for other signs of foxes but I couldn’t find any tracks. There was too much grass. And we got to talking about the ranch. He was glad Mom gave me more places to track and he told me things I could do around the ranch that would teach me more. Oh and he asked if any neighbors had a chow dog because a chow would have red, fuzzy fur. And he asked me a funny question. He asked if I knew how Indians track. But I don’t even know how I track except I lose the trail easy and I can’t do it very far. He was talking like an Indian had taught him how to track but he didn’t say why. I thought it was cool and I started pretending I was an Indian tracker. That was fun. It makes me try and think how an Indian would think. Do you think Mr. Chase is crazy?”
I laughed. “No, Chase isn’t crazy. He might be a little eccentric but he’s not crazy, and I think he really did learn how to track from an Indian. I’ve seen pictures in his house and they show him with two older men: a man that looks like he could be Chase’s dad or grandfather and an Indian man. It was obvious that Chase treasured those memories because those were the only pictures I saw on his walls.”
From time to time I applied the brakes if the Jeep crept up on Shasta. The miles slowly inched by and I found myself thinking that next time I’d prefer to hike it again rather than sit in the Jeep and creep along at three miles an hour. We stopped for lunch and I fired up the stove again. The guys were given a choice: goulash, chicken and rice, or mac and cheese. Patrick chose mac and cheese and we were glad to let him have it. Randy and I split the goulash and hoped we wouldn’t need to cook the chicken and rice. Randy refused to eat until I had dished some up for myself. I spread it around on my plate so it would look like more than it really was and then I handed the pouch over to him. Randy ate the rest of the goulash and the macaroni and cheese that Patrick had not finished. We washed up the few dishes we had used and then started on our way again, bumping and rolling over the rough road.
As the sun began to set I wondered what to do since Rusty would start worrying if we didn’t appear soon. I especially didn’t want him to start down this road in the Explorer.
“Ride ahead and see how far it is,” Randy told me. “If it isn’t far we’ll keep on. If it’s more than a mile we should make camp.”
“We don’t have enough food to make camp,” I countered.
“We do if we have to,” he said.
Shasta was ready to be loosed from the harness and I was weary from the confines of the Jeep so I put my heels to Shasta and let him stretch. He loped down the dirt road until I spotted the first washout. It wouldn’t do to hit one of those too fast and I sure didn’t want Shasta lame too.
I found another area in the road that was also washed out and it seemed to be the worse one yet. It would take a lot of patience to get over that particular washout and I feared we might be stuck for the night but I rode on anyway. Maybe, just maybe, the trailer was close.
When I finally saw the trailer I was relieved to also see the blue Explorer sitting on the road beside it. Rusty was here! Aware of the road conditions at the intersection, Shasta and I raced forward. I leapt out of the saddle and caught Rusty just as he was getting out of the SUV. I was home! As long as he was there I was home. I was even more determined to get out of these mountains tonight.
“Oh Rusty, I wish there had been time to miss you, but it’s been a mess. We need your help.”
Kelly got out from the passenger side of the Explorer.
“You know we’ll do anything we can. What’s going on?” he asked.
After enjoying my Rusty hug I set to work. I wanted to take the trailer to the washout. I knew it would make it that far.
“We need to take the trailer down the road. Will you drive it down there while I go back and tell Randy we can make it? He thinks we need to stop for the night but he doesn’t know how close we are. Just stop as soon as the road looks washed out and then turn the rig around so we can load the horses easily. It’s about half a mile. It’s been slow going because Mack is lame and we can’t leave him behind.”
We talked while I turned the ranch truck around and backed it up to the trailer.
“How’d Mack get lame?”
“It’s a long story,” I said, trying to pull the trailer hitch over the ball.
“Cassidy, you don’t have to do everything yourself. Just tell me what needs to be done.”
I dropped the hitch over the ball.
“Is that how it goes? I’ve never hooked a trailer up before.”
“Looks good to me,” Kelly said.
“Will you drive the truck down to the washout?” I asked. “Just wait for us there.”
“Why don’t you drive down and I’ll go help Randy,” Rusty said.
“The washout’s the worst part of it. We’ve already done three of them and this one is the worst. That’s where we’ll need the muscle. Besides, you hate riding.”
“I don’t!” Kelly said. “I haven’t ridden a horse in years, but I’ll ride down and help Randy and let you two visit.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, not sure of Kelly’s riding abilities.
“Heck, yeah, I used to love horseback riding.”
Rusty grasped me in a hug and told Kelly, “Yeah, go on.”
“Just watch for the wash out. Let Shasta pick his own way over it.”
As Kelly disappeared down the road Rusty turned me around to face him and kissed me deeply. Then he held me out where he could take a good look at me.
“You run into trouble?”
“It ran into us this time. We may end up keeping the horses for a few weeks. Mack needs some quiet time to heal.”
“How’d he get hurt? Is Randy okay?”
“Yeah, Randy’s fine. Maybe hungry, but fine. A bear scared the horses and they took off through the woods in the middle of the night. Mack got banged up running into tree branches. The Jeep’s a mess. The bear went after the food in the Jeep and the horses were tied to it.”
The mental image made Rusty smile and cringe at the same time.
“Wait’l you see the washout. Then you can see what we’ve been dealing with and why we had to use horses.”
“The road gets worse?”
I laughed. “Yeah, it gets much worse. That’s what Jeeps are for. I would have gotten out, too, except for the stupid mice.”
Rusty and I drove the ranch truck and the trailer down to the wash out then turned it around so it would be ready to head for home. Rusty looked at the road and shook his head.
“Cass, you took the Jeep over all that?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m liking the idea of that little sports car more and more.”
“Not when you see the Jeep,” I said hesitantly. “It wouldn’t make much of a trade with the state it’s in. Besides, I like it. It suits me.”
When at last we saw the procession heading up the road Rusty and I left the truck and walked down to meet them. Randy took one look at the washed out road and groaned. “Cassidy,” he scolded, “next time you get it into your head to go exploring stick to the pavement!”
“We’ll get it over, don’t worry, we’ve got help now. This is the last rough spot. We’ll go home, get cleaned up, and have a real meal. Kelly, if the forest service ever opens up that campground I think the place should be named Starvation Valley Campground. Every time I go there I end up hungry.”
“What happened this time?”
“You saw my Jeep?”
“Yeah.”
“Now imagine it with a black bear inside looking for a midnight snack and two panicky horses tied to the bumper.”
The washout was so extensive we had to use the ranch truck to pull the Jeep through it. The harnesses and towrope wouldn’t stretch across it and we didn’t want Shasta to try and pull while he was navigating the rough ground. We pulled out the cable for the winch and hooked it to the truck and worked our way over the immense segment of washed out road. Kelly was willing to handle the Jeep while Randy drove the truck but I figured it was my job.
“Do you know what to do?” he asked.
“Yeah, if you’d seen the rest of the road you wouldn’t ask. Use the brake to keep the cable tight but don’t drag down the truck. Steer to miss the worst parts.”
I pointed the Jeep at the shallowest ruts and rode it out until finally the Jeep was on the other side and we were able to tow it home with the Explorer. Kelly insisted on being brakeman for the tow job home. I rode with Rusty in the Explorer while Patrick rode with Randy in the ranch truck. Eventually we all made it home in one piece. Of course the term in one piece was relative as far as the Jeep was concerned.
“Cassidy, next time you decide to take on a task that is too big for you, would you, please, say something?”
“Okay, if I come up with one I’ll say something.”
Rusty glared at me and said, “You shouldn’t have tried to take this on by yourself.”
“I didn’t. Randy helped me and we did it together.”
“You worked yourself to the bone just to get that Jeep out of the woods. You didn’t have to do all that. If I’d known how big the job was I’d have put a stop to it.”
“I don’t get to decide if a job is too big for me?”
Kelly snickered quietly to himself. He knew Rusty and I would never see my adventures and risks in the same light.
“I didn’t say that.”
“I told you what was involved in order to get the Jeep. So a bear came along and changed our plans a bit. That’s just part of what makes life interesting. I’m sorry that Mack got hurt and my Jeep was all torn up, but I’m glad I got to see the bear. If you’d have gone instead then I would have been disappointed that I missed it. This was a two man job and Randy knew the horses. I knew the area and the Jeep and what we were up against. It made better sense for me to go and for you to stay home. So don’t go getting all macho on me. We did what we had to.”
Rusty joined Kelly in his mirth.
“Patrick, you need a bath before dinner.”
“Aw, Aunt Cassidy!”
“Do you want to take a shower instead?”
“I can’t, I’m too little. I stand in the shower and the water goes all around me but hardly any of it hits me.”
“What if I had a different kind of shower? Would you then? You can put the water wherever you want.”
He looked at me skeptically so I showed him our shower with its two showerheads.
“See? You can spray the water wherever you need it.”
I should have taken note of the mischievous glint in his eye. He showered for a long time. I figured he was enjoying the water and if he spent enough time playing he’d eventually get cleaner. I know he didn’t mean to, but while he was showering he didn’t know when he pointed the showerhead up the water was going up and over the shower door. Patrick never noticed he had been soaking the entire bathroom floor. He realized that he was in trouble after wading out into a bathroom sized puddle. His clothes were soaked, the towels were soaked and he was naked, so he was unable to ask for help without being totally embarrassed. He wrapped a soaking wet towel around himself, dripped down the hall, peeked around the corner and into the den.
“Aunt Cassidy? I think I made a mistake,” he said timidly.
There was Patrick, wet hair plastered over his forehead, water running down his face into the sodden towel, water dripping onto the carpet. “So,” I asked Rusty, “is this job too big for me?”
He looked at Patrick, dripping and shivering from head to toe.
“No, this looks about your size.”
“Gee thanks, I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”