cacti were grazed down to nubs and what little Bermuda grass had made it up to the ledge was eaten down to white roots.
Paul started up, Anna following. Behind her she heard Cyril and Steve clamber onto the ledge to trail behind Carmen. Five was too many, Anna thought. At Easter’s elevation the ledge might not be wide enough for that many people and one cow. This quixotic quest could end in tragedy if the rescue went sour. Anna did not want that on her conscience, but doubted they’d go back if she told them to, so she shoved the thought into the back of her mind. Already crowded with the things she would not think about, the dim recesses of her skull must look like an overstuffed closet. Should the door fail, the flotsam and jetsam of her id would come tumbling out. That thought, too, she shoved in with the rest.
Distracted from her misery by the strange phenomenon of human beings creeping up her path, Easter quit crying and lowed soft questions at them.
“She sounds like she knows we’re coming to save her,” Cyril said.
“She sounds like she knows we’re coming to feed her,” her brother retorted.
“I wonder if animals hope,” Cyril mused. “Can you hope if you live in the moment?”
“They live in the moment you open the cat food can,” Steve said.
The climb was growing steeper and Anna could hear their breath coming harder between their words. She would remember not to count on them for brute force. Paul was powerful and Carmen was a rock. Along with her, they could do the heavy lifting if there was any to be done. The twins would be ideal for holding the offerings of lettuce, she decided.
“Poor old Easter will end up in a beef fajita,” Paul said.
“No she won’t!” Cyril declared.
“Are you going to lock it in a bathroom with you till the president of Mexico grants it amnesty?” her brother asked.
“I might.”
Anna laughed. She hadn’t laughed much in a while and it felt wonderful. She reminded herself to take it up again.
Paul laughed then and Anna knew he was happy because she was, and felt the rush she always did when she realized how much he loved her.
SIX
T he ledge they followed was rapidly narrowing and the river had grown ribbon-thin far below them. Lori and Chrissie and the raft looked small as toys in the bottom of the canyon and the cliff-dwelling swallows flew by them at eye level. Cyril, Anna noticed, was hugging the wall, and Steve was trying not to. The ascending path they followed was a couple of feet wide, three or four feet in places, but with a drop of several hundred feet and no guardrails, it was not a place for the acrophobic. Anna hoped nobody froze and had to be carried out. Panic struck some people that way, rendering them temporarily catatonic. If it did, they’d have to wait their turn. Easter had priority.
“Let’s stop and catch our breath for a minute,” Paul said, and stopped. He wasn’t breathing hard. Neither was Anna, but it was a nice wide patch on the ledge and the footing was even, a safe place to pause and firm up the rescue plan.
Easter was about sixty feet away, ahead and slightly above them on the ledge. Seen this closely, it was clear the poor cow was on her last legs. She held her head so low her jaw was scarcely an inch from the stone. Bones poked her skin into tents at shoulders and hips and her ribs could be counted at a glance. More than a living, breathing cow, she looked like one of the desiccated corpses of cows Anna had seen at various times in the deserts of Texas and Mesa Verde, the hide shrunk around a skeleton, guts and blood and muscle long gone.
“I don’t know if she’ll make it down,” Carmen said. “Look at the way she’s swaying. We may be looking at a dead cow.”
“No,” Anna said. “Easter has hidden reservoirs of strength.”
“Secret powers?” Steve asked.
“Pity the nonbeliever,” his sister said. “If you squint you can see her cape.”
“What do you want to do, Anna?” Paul
Paul started up, Anna following. Behind her she heard Cyril and Steve clamber onto the ledge to trail behind Carmen. Five was too many, Anna thought. At Easter’s elevation the ledge might not be wide enough for that many people and one cow. This quixotic quest could end in tragedy if the rescue went sour. Anna did not want that on her conscience, but doubted they’d go back if she told them to, so she shoved the thought into the back of her mind. Already crowded with the things she would not think about, the dim recesses of her skull must look like an overstuffed closet. Should the door fail, the flotsam and jetsam of her id would come tumbling out. That thought, too, she shoved in with the rest.
Distracted from her misery by the strange phenomenon of human beings creeping up her path, Easter quit crying and lowed soft questions at them.
“She sounds like she knows we’re coming to save her,” Cyril said.
“She sounds like she knows we’re coming to feed her,” her brother retorted.
“I wonder if animals hope,” Cyril mused. “Can you hope if you live in the moment?”
“They live in the moment you open the cat food can,” Steve said.
The climb was growing steeper and Anna could hear their breath coming harder between their words. She would remember not to count on them for brute force. Paul was powerful and Carmen was a rock. Along with her, they could do the heavy lifting if there was any to be done. The twins would be ideal for holding the offerings of lettuce, she decided.
“Poor old Easter will end up in a beef fajita,” Paul said.
“No she won’t!” Cyril declared.
“Are you going to lock it in a bathroom with you till the president of Mexico grants it amnesty?” her brother asked.
“I might.”
Anna laughed. She hadn’t laughed much in a while and it felt wonderful. She reminded herself to take it up again.
Paul laughed then and Anna knew he was happy because she was, and felt the rush she always did when she realized how much he loved her.
SIX
T he ledge they followed was rapidly narrowing and the river had grown ribbon-thin far below them. Lori and Chrissie and the raft looked small as toys in the bottom of the canyon and the cliff-dwelling swallows flew by them at eye level. Cyril, Anna noticed, was hugging the wall, and Steve was trying not to. The ascending path they followed was a couple of feet wide, three or four feet in places, but with a drop of several hundred feet and no guardrails, it was not a place for the acrophobic. Anna hoped nobody froze and had to be carried out. Panic struck some people that way, rendering them temporarily catatonic. If it did, they’d have to wait their turn. Easter had priority.
“Let’s stop and catch our breath for a minute,” Paul said, and stopped. He wasn’t breathing hard. Neither was Anna, but it was a nice wide patch on the ledge and the footing was even, a safe place to pause and firm up the rescue plan.
Easter was about sixty feet away, ahead and slightly above them on the ledge. Seen this closely, it was clear the poor cow was on her last legs. She held her head so low her jaw was scarcely an inch from the stone. Bones poked her skin into tents at shoulders and hips and her ribs could be counted at a glance. More than a living, breathing cow, she looked like one of the desiccated corpses of cows Anna had seen at various times in the deserts of Texas and Mesa Verde, the hide shrunk around a skeleton, guts and blood and muscle long gone.
“I don’t know if she’ll make it down,” Carmen said. “Look at the way she’s swaying. We may be looking at a dead cow.”
“No,” Anna said. “Easter has hidden reservoirs of strength.”
“Secret powers?” Steve asked.
“Pity the nonbeliever,” his sister said. “If you squint you can see her cape.”
“What do you want to do, Anna?” Paul
Similar Books
