Why Must She Always Think I'm Up To Something?

*** continued from previous post ***

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That’s curious, the wallow was empty. Nary a moose or a deer or an elk or transient or unicorn or a gnome in sight. Evidently the day shift hadn't reported for duty as promised. Very unprofessional. But what do you expect from a bunch of animals? Still, I'm sure in some knothole or mossy cave there was a managerial chipmunk promising that 'heads would roll'.

"Hey Suz. Where are all the moose?"

Mom walked out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "I saw one when I first got up but she wandered away. I haven't seen any since."

"Any other animals out today?"

Mom pulled the toothbrush partially from her mouth and spoke through the toothpaste. "Nah da I cuh see."

“We should turn on the radio. Get a traffic report for the trails. Might be a jack-knifed buck, or with the morning fog a multi-species pile-up. That can really cause a backup you know. Especially if you've got an incident with herbivores and carnivores. On the plus side if you give it enough time, it's self cleaning."

"Come on and get dressed."

I did as requested and before you knew it we were once again trudging through a steady drizzle back towards a date with obesity.

"Let's take a quick detour and check on the bike," I said, turning towards the parking lot.

As we rounded a small stand of trees I saw our baby, alone, cold, and no doubt frightened. She hunkered just where we had parked her on the edge of the lot. She was quite a sight. The constant rain had left her with pools of water on her seat, and drips and beads everywhere else. She was dirty. I mean really dirty. Mud and dirt and bugs and God knows what else. Stuck between the front tire and the belly pan were the remains of something which I didn't want to look at too closely, at least until I found a proper stick to poke it with first. I think it may have been either a bunny or a partial Faerie. Later I would discover that it was nothing more than a huge ball of thistle-down which, and I'm sure you can relate to this, came as a relief. I didn't need a swarm of angry Fairies spoiling my day. (That would come later on an ill-fated trip to San Francisco.) The point being she was a sad, sad, lonely sight.

"Aw, she looks lonely."

"She looks dirty and wet," Mom said.

"And lonely."

Mom considered this for a minute. "Mostly dirty."

"And scared. And lonely."

Mom looked at me. "Don't you think your anthropomorphizing a bit?"

"No, no I don't think so. Look how she's squatting there. Her headlights look all droopy and her saddlebags are limp. No, she's lonely all right. Probably thinking we've abandoned her here in the wilderness, never to glide the smooth blacktop ever again."

"Right." Mom turned back towards the lodge. "Well, it looks like the bike is fine so let's go have breakfast."

"Just a minute," I said. I walked over and patted her handlebars, and swept the pooling water off of her seats. "It's okay baby. We haven't forgotten you."

Mom fidgeted in the gravel. "Can we go now?"

I paused for a moment, patted her seat again and sighed as I turned to walk to your Mother. "You know, we really should take her for a little ride. It wouldn't hurt us and would probably do her some good." I looked back over my shoulder. "She's just so . . . so . . . sad. And you know, we did promise her that we would show her Banff."

"Look," Mom said, "I'm not ruling out a ride. But if I never have to ride in the rain again I won't be disappointed. So let's just see what the day brings, okay?"

"Don't talk to me," I said, grabbing your mom's arm and locking it into mine, "I understand completely. Now you explain that to her."

Curiously enough your mom ignored me. I find that as the years progress that happens more and more. I blame the media and sugary snacks.

As we walked to the lodge Mom said, "I know you've got something up your sleeve, but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is."

"Sweetie, must you always jump right to the supposition that I'm up to something?"

"Mostly yes."

Of course she was right but I had to act slightly peeved to throw her off the scent.


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*** the journey continues ***