Snakes and Snails and Puppydog Tails by Nexxie PART III The stairs seemed to cringe as Jennifer stomped up to her bedroom.  She peeled off the new sundress and wadded it into a ball before throwing it into the pile of clothes she tried on, and rejected that morning.  The sandals followed suit with a resounding THUMP THUMP as they hit the wall beside the closet.  Pulling on cutoffs and a T-shirt, she threw herself on top of the pink bedspread and stared at the light fixture on the ceiling, her face screwed into a definite pout.  Joanne peeked in the door and looked at her daughter in dismay.  The reason for her girl's stormy face was not a mystery to her mother.  With a sigh she tapped on the door, requesting entrance.  Jennifer never was shy about going after what she wanted, and it was seldom, with her winning smile and forthright manner, that she didn't get it.  On rare occasions, especially with her Uncle Johnny, if the smile didn't work Jen would call up tears and bring the soft-hearted Gage to his emotional knees.  It never failed.  One look at the trembling chin and troubled teary eyes and Johnny would get Jennifer the moon if she wanted it. It was obvious, Joanne groaned internally, that what Jennifer wants now is J.R. Gage.  That he, for all intents and purposes ignored her this morning when she sat out on the deck in a new dress just to catch his eye, brought on the current tantrum.  Joanne tapped again, not receiving a response the first time. "Yes?"  It was curt, unwelcoming, and totally in frame with her mood. "Can I come in, Jen?" Joanne asked, hoping this talk could proceed and end amicably. With a sigh and a nod Jennifer indicated admittance, scooting over on the bed to allow her mother space to sit down.  She probably knew what was coming.  Joanne put down the laundry basket beside the bed before she took a seat. "Jen," Joanne began, "he's too old for you."   Well, Joanne, that was real subtle, she thought as she watched Jennifer's face begin to resemble a thundercloud. "No, he isn't, Mom.  He's just the right age, only a little more than two years older."  Jen didn't even pretend not to know the subject of the conversation. "Honey, in years, that's true...but J.R. is...maybe the best word is 'mature' .  He doesn't see the world in the same way as other young men his age.  You need to date boys who are still doing the things teenagers do.  J.R. is pretty much a man.  He's doing a man's job, working with other men who treat him as an equal.  "You are still a girl...hey, sorry but it's true!  You are still going to high school, still involved in cheerleading, going to football games, rollerskating---all things that are good and right for a girl your age.  J.R. is beyond all that.  "Getting involved with him wouldn't be wise, Jen.  He can't fit in with your friends or be comfortable doing the things you enjoy."  Joanne hoped she was getting through, but the mutinous look on her daughter's face said she wasn't. "Okay, here's the thing.  Bottom line is your dad and I won't permit you to date J.R. Gage." Jennifer with a strangled cry turned over and buried her face in her pillow. Joanne sadly rose to her feet and picked up the laundry before heading downstairs.  That didn't go well, but she knew, without even discussing the subject with Roy, that she was right.  Jennifer would not be allowed to go out with Johnny's son.  It was just a crush, anyway, wasn't it? Idly Joanne wondered how things were going with Roy and Chris and their camping trip. ************ The last part of the hike was more rocky and steep.  It involved some climbing and much more concentration.  After another hour, the foursome reached the top of the ridge and stood to enjoy the vista that presented itself.  Seemingly for their benefit, a hawk drifted on the breeze as it soared over the valley below, emitting a piercing cry from time to time. It was a quiet place, J.R. thought, or at least it would be if Chris would just shut up.  Chris DeSoto was at it again, cautioning them all this time about not going too close to the edge of the precipice.  J.R. gave him a dirty look before walking deliberately as close as possible to the brink and leaning against a spindly pine.  He wished he could stay up here forever.  If he was in charge of the expedition, they would camp here tonight...the sunset would be spectacular.  Maybe he would come back on his own in the morning.  He hoped that hawk would be here.  I wonder what Jennifer thought of this place?  Did she see it the way I do?  Did she listen to the sound of that hawk and catch the sparkle of the water from that stream snaking through the valley?  Did the beauty and solitude of this place make her shiver too?  Would she think I'm a geek for thinking about this kind of stuff?  I hope not. The sun, so hot earlier, was beginning to descend---the trip up there took three hours.  Although the trip back would be more rapid, being a descent, no one wanted to be still on the trail after dark, so their stay was necessarily brief.  Johnny took a few minutes to point out to J.R. places he hiked to in the past, some of them visible from their vantage point, and landmarks they would visit at a later date. The trip back to the campsite was uneventful and filled with Chris' reminiscences of other trips with Johnny and Jennifer.  It may be that Chris didn't mean to make J.R. feel like an outsider, but it happened nonetheless.  Every story seemed more pointedly calculated to make the statements, "I was here first.  I knew Johnny before you did.  You are an interloper."  J.R. wasn't really surprised, but he wasn't happy about it either.  He could think of a thousand things he would rather do than listen to "The Adventures of Chris and Jennifer DeSoto With Their Marvelous Uncle Johnny". His father was caught up in the memories with Chris and often laughed as he helped the young man recall some detail or was reminded of a particularly amusing event.  They recalled lots of camping trips with the two kids, some with Roy, some even included Joanne who was no camper.  He he must have taught those two a lot about nature, camping and American Indian legends over the years, J.R. mused wistfully, jealous of the time Johnny spent with somebody else's children.  Johnny frowned as he spotted J.R.  about forty feet behind them along the trail, watching the ground as he walked.  His son was far enough back to keep the others in sight without listening to the conversation.  J.R. didn't see the looks he was getting from the three ahead, and it wouldn't have bothered him much.  He was lost in memories of his own...memories of his first camping trip. When Marnie McGuire died he was alone in the world.  His grandparents ignored him except for the day of the funeral.  Very few people attended, he remembered, a pathetic showing for such a nice lady as his mom.  Some of the nurses who took care of her showed up, a couple of teachers and the counselor from his high school, a lady from Social Services...and Mrs. Smith.  A neighbor from one of the many apartment buildings J.R. and his mother lived in at one time or another, Mrs. Smith was a woman who babysat J.R. when he was small so his mom could work.  After the funeral, Mrs. Smith agreed to take him in...her arthritis made many tasks difficult and J.R. was glad to help out with housework and shopping.  Truthfully it was less work than he was used to doing around the house, and he didn't have to cook.  But that was when he came back---after he met Cager. J.R.'s determination got him through the funeral---just barely.  After the graveside service, his grandfather took him aside and began an inquisition.  Where was J.R. going now?  What was he going to do?  Did he have a job?  And the question that was consuming the man, would he now contact his father? He turned away without a word and began to walk, uncaring as to destination, only determined to escape the questions and the presence of the man who made his mother's life more miserable than it had to be.  He didn't want to go home...it wasn't home anymore; all his posessions were packed into a couple of suitcases waiting beside the front door.  His mother's clothing and personal items were removed by his grandparents.  J.R. didn't care, he already had the things that really mattered...a locket with his picture she wore next to her heart, letters from her cousin Claire informing them about John Gage's whereabouts, a small turquoise bracelet...her one gift from his father, and a couple of her favorite books of poetry.  Not only was the apartment an empty shell, cleaned and ready for the next tenant, but J.R.  knew the old man would go there to wait for him.  Instead he took the city bus as far east as it went and began walking toward the green hills of the Ozarks. After he had been walking a couple hours a motorcycle pulled up behind J.R. and stopped.  The man in the saddle wore an olive drab fatigue shirt that still sported Army patches and faded, torn Levis.  His tangled hair was long and black, his eyes deepset and haunted. "Hi," the man called, "want a lift?" J.R. nodded assent and climbed up behind the man, holding on for dear life as the bike roared down the road, rapidly eating up the miles.  He must have sensed J.R.'s lack of destination, because a couple of hours later he pulled into a county park and waited for the boy to dismount. "Where ya headed?" the biker asked.  "By the way, the name's Cager."  He stuck out one dirty hand in greeting. "J.R." the younger man replied.  "I'm going wherever the road goes."  He thought that sounded cool. "You runnin' from somethin' or to somethin'?" Cager asked. "Does it matter?"  J.R.'s voice was bitter. "Well," Cager replied, "a man runnin' from somethin' likely will never get anywhere.  A man needs a destination.  Best way is to face things head on, and when you run, find somethin' to run to." "There's my father..." J.R. said thoughtfully, "but he's in L.A.  He doesn't even know I'm alive and I'm not sure I want him to." "Anybody else?" "No," J.R. said sadly, "there's nobody else." "Then boy, I think you better stop runnin' until you know where you're runnin' to." "I guess."  J.R. was resigned.  Seemed he couldn't get it right no matter what he did. "Meanwhile," Cager smiled, "you ever been campin'?"  J.R. shook his head. They spent two weeks in the Ozarks with only the clothes on their backs, a couple of blankets and some food Cager picked up at a grocery store along the way.  Cager was a member of the Special Forces in 'Nam and well versed in survival outdoors.  J.R. became his enthusiastic and apt pupil as he learned how to build a fire, make a shelter, pick out a trail, choose a campsite, snare and skin a rabbit and watch for hazards like poison ivy and snakes.  J.R. returned to Kansas City with his clothes in shreds, looking more disreputable than Cager, but full of self-confidence and knowing that he had a true friend. After retrieving his suitcases from the apartment manager, he contacted Mrs. Smith and arranged to live with her, then found a job in a fast-food place working evenings and weekends until he graduated high school.  He and Cager went camping whenever they could and Cager's protegee looked forward eagerly to learning all his teacher had to show him. He took time to say goodbye to his friend before leaving Kansas City, telling the man he finally had somewhere to run to. "That's good, my friend," Cager said.  "Run hard, work hard and chase your dream.  Oh...and say 'hi' to your father.  He has one hell of a son." ************** "J.R.!  Wake up!"  Johnny spoke more sharply than he intended, but he was getting irritated.  This was the second time that J.R. walked past when they stopped to rest, ignoring the rest of the group. It's like the boy isn't even with us.  I'm beginning to think it was a mistake to bring him along.  There isn't much point in taking a trip together if he's gonna stay to himself. Stopping on the trail about twenty feet ahead, J.R. just sat on the side of the path and waited for the others to finish their break.  He isn't tired or out of breath, Johnny could tell, but then he isn't carrying fifty pounds or so of snack foods and miscellaneous junk.  3 Roy and Chris are beat, from the look of them.  I wonder if Chris will feel like cooking dinner when we get back.  He shrugged.  I could go on and have everything ready for them when they finally wander in, but then it wouldn't be Chris' camping trip.  J.R. just sat quietly on the side of the trail, away from the others, contributing nothing, as if he wished to be alone.  Johnny looked at Roy in defeat and said, "I thought we'd gotten past this.  I thought we were beyond the silent treatment." "Well, Johnny, you can only do so much.  He has to meet you part way."  Roy was fed up with J.R.'s apparent sulking.  "I thought he wanted to come along.  "  "He agreed to come willingly enough.  I guess I'll just have to let him work it out on his own."  Johnny sighed before looking at Roy and Chris, they were obviously disgusted with the whole situation.  "Well, are you two rested enough to return to camp?  I'm looking forward to dinner.  What is it tonight, Chris?" The cook's enthusiasm was definitely cooled.  It would take a while to start the fire and prepare dinner.  Right now Chris would give anything for a pizza, preferably delivered right here on the trail.  Roy looked daunted as well.  It was getting dark and beginning to look like dinner would be a reprise of the hot dogs and beans they had for lunch. Hesitating a little, Johnny decided to offer to go on ahead and get supper started. "Chris, would you be upset if somebody else did supper tonight?  You did lunch and set up the camp pretty much, so it's only fair for you to rest tonight." Put that way, Chris saw the proposal as reasonable.  He nodded agreement and Johnny stood up to begin a quick return to camp.  He stopped to inform J.R. of his intentions and there was a brief argument between the two men.  Wearing a slight smile, Johnny came back to the two DeSotos and sat back down while J.R. took off at a fast pace toward the campsite.  Just out of sight of the others, he began to jog. At the inquiring looks from Chris and Roy, Johnny explained, "J.R. volunteered to go on ahead and start dinner.  He's a better cook than I am anyway.  That gives us a little extra time, but not much.  It will be dark in an hour or so." J.R arrived back in camp a little winded, but determined to have dinner done by the time the rest arrived.  It's time to do a little showing off of my own, he thought. After starting the campfire, J.R. found the ingredients for the evening meal, which was to be beef stew, he quickly put the beef into a large skillet and set it to brown, then began to peel the vegetables and chop them into a dutch oven.  Adding the meat and seasoning the dish with what he could find among the supplies, he thickened the gravy before covering the pot to simmer over the campfire.  By the time the other three arrived back in camp, hungry and tired, J.R. was relaxing on his bedroll and a tantalizing odor was eminating from the pot over the fire.  There was a self-satisfied smirk on his face as Chris and Roy trooped wearily to their tent and dropped their packs.   Dinner was eaten in short order and everyone agreed to call it a night.  Johnny cleaned up the dishes, banked the fire and crawled into his makeshift bed.  J.R. was staring at the stars as if lost in memories.  Johnny listened to the familiar night sounds and surrupticiously watched his son.  Soon his soft even breathing told John Gage the young man was asleep. *********************** The campsite was quiet in the early morning as Johnny opened his eyes.  No sound awakened him, just the feeling that something was wrong---no, not wrong---different.  He could hear the snores of the two DeSoto's in their tent, slightly out of sync with each other.  Turning his head, he discovered that J.R. was not in his "bed".  That's what was different.  He fell asleep to the sound of his son's quiet breathing next to him and that sound was absent now.  It was not yet light, although the sky was showing faint tinges of a lighter blue and the stars were beginning to fade.  The morning birds were trading shifts with the owls and whipporwills.  Johnny estimated it was about four o'clock.  He wondered where his son had gotten to.  As he stood to investigate, Johnny noticed an arrow traced in the dirt beside J.R.'s bed pointing toward the trail.  He smiled. The trip  took a mere two hours this time, without the slow pace and constant stops.  Johnny figured J.R. would have run the first half.  He knew Roy and Chris would still be asleep for quite some time and he and J.R. would be back before the DeSoto's were ready to face the day. Before he left the campsite, Johnny put on a pot of coffee and left a note for Roy that he and J.R. went for an early morning hike.  It wasn't a complete lie...they would return together. The elder Gage. reached the top of the ridge just as the sun began to illuminate the trees on the distant mountaintops.  From his vantage point facing west, the valley remained in shadow.    This place obviously drew the boy just as it called to his father.  The majesty, the solitude...J.R. wanted to experience it alone, to drink in the air and the sheer beauty of the place.  Johnny soundlessly approached his son.  He was still a silhouette in the dim morning light.  The young man was talking to himself and his voice was so soft that Johnny had to strain to hear it. "The day is done, and the darkness falls from the wings of Night as a feather is wafted downward from an eagle in its flight.  I see the lights of the village gleam through the rain and the mist, and a feeling of sadness comes o'er me that my soul cannot resist:  A feeling of sadness and longing, that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles rain." "What is that from?" Johnny asked. J.R. wasn't startled by the question.  As quietly as Johnny could approach, J.R. still knew he was there.  He was, in fact, expecting him. "It's Longfellow.  I think of it sometimes when I really miss my mom.  I remembered it yesterday when we watched the hawk flying down below here.  I wanted to see if it would be back this morning.  It would have been really great to see the sunset from up here."  "I'm sorry, son, that I couldn't be there for you.  I know how hard it is to suddenly be alone."  Johnny remembered vividly, even after all these years, the pain of great loss when his parents died in the auto accident.  "You really miss her a lot, don't you?" Somehow it seemed easier to talk about things up here.  Even so, J.R. hesitated before answering. "Yeah, but it's not as bad now.  For the first year, it was really hard.  Even though she was hurting so bad, I wanted her to stay so I wouldn't be alone.  I think the hardest part was letting go, and telling her I would be alright.  I promised her I would find you...I think believing that gave her the peace she needed.  She taught me to take care of myself, but she still worried." "Where did you find that poem?"  Johnny asked.  "It seems to fit this place.  Is that all, or is there more to it?" J.R. hesitated. "One of the things we could afford was a library card, so I checked out books and read them to Mom in the evenings.  She liked poetry, and this one was just about her favorite.  There's a lot more verses, but the last two are the best: "Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice, and lend to the rhyme of the poet the beauty of thy voice.  And the night shall be filled with music, and the cares that infest the day, shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, and as silently steal away." Johnny didn't say anything more to interrupt the peace and tranquility of the place, but he silently put his arms around his son and gave him a hug.  There was no one to comfort J.R. after his mother died, no one to hold him and allow him to grieve.  He had tightly forced back the tears that threatened to well up at the funeral, wanting to appear in control and strong in front of his uncaring relatives.  But now, almost four years later, secure in his father's arms, J.R. Gage laid his head on Johnny's shoulder and broke into heart-rending sobs. END OF PART III *********************** part IV