"All The Way"
Chapter 11
Utah
The sun rose above the canyon walls dispelling the shadows while the smell of coffee and bacon filled the air. Slowly the camp came to life with activity preparing for the precisely choreographed assault of the Anasazi village. Osmund and Stokes slipped into the primitive latrine to shower and shave before the meeting in the mess tent.
Eliot stood bare-chested at the sink slowly moving the razor across his cheek and jaw, stopped, checked his progress in the slightly distorted mirror as Herb stepped from one of the shower stalls fastening his belt and tossing his towel across his shoulder.
"What a wonderful morning! Today, the adventure begins!" Herb announced cheerfully.
Stokes continued moving the razor along his neck and around his chin. His friend stopped to look in the mirror, leaned in further inspecting Eliot's upper lip.
"Are we growing another moustache?"
Eliot completed the last stroke, rinsed and dried his face and turned to face his friend.
"Perhaps," He announced. Herb's eyes narrowed, checking the thin moustache over Eliot's lip.
His friend laughed shaking his head. "You do this every time. You know it makes you look like… some… desperado."
Eliot chuckled, leaned in to check Herb's own moustache.
"You're just envious."
Osmund slapped his friend on the back, called out over his shoulder, "Breakfast in 10 minutes."
Eliot began tucking in his shirt and noted his belt had to move in two notches to fasten properly. The waist, the moustache, the tanned skin, he was a changed man. He liked what he saw in the mirror. Glancing at his watch he hurriedly finished and headed to the mess tent. The teams would assemble for breakfast hold a quick meeting tying up any details before heading for the village. Today they would set up the grid and designate areas of occupation for each research team.
Stokes rushed in, poured a cup of coffee, picked up some toast and headed for Herb's table. Walking across the mess tent he studied the familiar faces at each tables and began to grin. A sea of small furry moustaches were at every table. Osmund sat pretending to nurse his coffee suppressing his laughter. Eliot placed his coffee and toast next to his friend, gracefully extending his arms out in an elegant bow to everyone in the room. The group burst into laughter while toying with their moustaches like Groucho.
Eliot smiled graciously to everyone around him as he sat down. Without looking at his friend he spoke from the corner of his mouth, "I'm going to get you for this, Osmund."
Herb nonchalantly sipped his coffee, never making eye contact, "I wouldn't have it any other way, Stokes.
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An hour later, like a stream of foraging ants a procession of wooden ladders were carried to the Anasazi village. At the base of the outer wall Professor Denis Summerlin gave directions for the substitution of modern wooden ladders for the ancient ones. Once inside the village the group would start the construction of the rope grid marking the beginning of their individual projects.
The village in many ways resembled a fort. The Anasazi were peaceful farmers and traders who needed protection from hostile outsiders. The high vertical perimeter walls restricted access to the interior. The wooden ladders at key locations provided entry and if you were welcome you could move by ladder to the first level of the multileveled complex. From there you could reach other areas by short ladders or stairways. Like a protective womb the settlement set nestled in the concave recess of the canyon wall.
Before any work began the obligatory group photo would be taken at the base of the perimeter wall. Eliot set up his tripod, set the timer and rushed to take his place beside his niece, Hallie Stokes. Everyone smiled sporting their moustaches enjoying the joke on Eliot Stokes. The moustaches disappeared for the serious group photo. The final click and whirr of the camera sent everyone on a race to complete their respective jobs.
Eliot tended to his camera when Hallie moved to his side. In the rush to set up camp they had little time to speak, just a hug and a quick greeting in passing. The young woman smiled, replacing her moustache.
"This is so exciting, Uncle Eliot."
Her uncle, continuing his work, glanced at her moustache and grinned, "I like your new look, Hallie, I think you should wear it always. Perhaps it will help deter young gentlemen callers."
Hallie giggled, "Deter young gentlemen callers, now that's funny."
She enjoyed the joke on her uncle and how everyone she meet seemed to respect him. She came to realize her uncle was pretty cool and very much the professional. Why did things seem so different now? Had her uncle changed or had she? Perhaps it was a little of both. Her uncle had given her the best gift possible. He had made arrangements for her to work as a research assistant on an archeological expedition. Maybe she would become an anthropologist or an archeologist. She might even start classes at the university. Hallie slipped her arms around his waist and gave him a quick hug. Automatically his arm moved around her shoulders.
"Thank you Uncle Eliot."
He looked down at her youthful face; the expression was priceless.
"I'm so glad you're here, Hallie."
"Me, too!' She beamed then gave him a quick peck on the cheek and dashed off to help Bridget Marlin carry their pottery gear.
~~~tbc~~~