Ty's Thursday Thru Sunday
"Geez. Why are you here?" Entering the kitchen at 5am, Paul was startled to see Ty sitting at the table drinking coffee, petting A.K.
"I couldn't sleep." Ty shrugged.
"Mirna should charge you rent." He said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Who says she doesn't?" Ty smirked.
"I didn't hear you come in."
"You were too busy singing to the Great Dane. When did he show up?"
"She. Around 9 or so. Police brought her in. Another hit and run. I really wish people would take responsibility for their moronic actions." He swore.
"Probably drunk, high or suspended license." Ty guessed.
"Probably all three. No collar or chip either."
"Figures. How is she?"
"She didn't make it. Closed head injuries." His response was even, clinical, but his expression darkened.
"Sorry Paul. That's tough."
"Some days this job sucks." He upended his cup, draining it.
"Yeah."
Silence ensued as the two refilled their cups, Paul first. Standing side by side, their backs against the counter, they drank coffee, lost in their own thoughts. A.K. circled his ankles, rubbing her head against his pant legs, comforting him in her own way. Putting his cup on the counter, Paul reach down and picked her up. Holding her close to his chest, her purr vibrated through his shirt, clear to his heavy heart. He closed his eyes for a moment or two, holding her a little tighter.
Bringing his lips to her ear, he whispered, "Thank you" before handing her off to Ty. Turning away, he methodically washed his cup then put it on the drying rack.
"Time's wasting. We got rounds." He growled. Quicker than a blink of an eye, the curmudgeon had returned.
Nodding, Ty gave A.K. a final ear rub before putting her down. "I have that call with Michael and Ellen at 6. Join us?" He mentioned to Paul, washing his cup in the sink.
Paul didn't respond.
"The Chief and Naomi will be here too." He continued.
"Why?"
"They want to see for themselves that the horses are doing okay. So are you in?"
"Are you ready yet?" Paul asked, not answering the question.
"Yeah." He put the cup in the drying rack next to Paul's.
"Out back first."
"Out back?"
Paul didn't respond as he walked out of the kitchen, made a right into that hall that led to the open exam room and to the back door. Ty followed behind him into the back lot.
In the dim light outside, a 30 foot long neon yellow trailer, wrapped in the image of giant green boa constrictor, hummed in the lot. The words, The Snake Guy, were slashed across its length in a bold orange and black letters.
"Where did that come from?"
"Sara."
"The Snake Guy's a woman?" Ty asked, not following.
"Sara is my cousin. Her boyfriend, George Heron, is The Snake Guy."
"Okay...?" Still not following.
"He was bitten by a copperhead yesterday. He's in the hospital." Paul walked toward trailer.
"Bad?" He walked along side.
"Bad enough. He'll live, if he survives the pain."
"I guess it's better than a rattler bite...So Sara? Why did she bring this here?"
"She's afraid of snakes."
"No kidding. Yet she's dating the Snake Guy?" Ty shook his head.
Paul shrugged.
"So, it's full of snakes?"
"No duh." Ascending the three metal steps, Paul opened the trailer door, a red glow from the night light escaped. Paul flicked on the ultraviolet day light.
Neatly lining each side were floor to ceiling enclosures, each housing a single snake, each a different species, each brilliantly colored, mostly nonvenomous.
"Wow! This is pretty cool." Acting like a little kid, Ty ventured in, looking in each case.
Paul follow him down the narrow walkway.
"Man, look at that emerald tree boa! He must be 15 feet long." Squatting, he observed thick bright green snake stretched out in the bottom case that ran the trailer's length.
Ty laughed as he read the card on the case.
"What?"
"Get this. His name is Leprechaun! Funny."
Paul nodded.
"And, this one is Clown." Now standing, he commented on the red milk snake, with orange, black and white stripes. Paul looked in.
He moved to the next enclosure, "This must be the biter...Stubby!" Ty pointed at the copperhead, it's distinctive, dark brown, hourglass-shaped markings, overlaid on a light reddish brown background. It's body was thick and short, no more than 20 inches long. "This guy has a sense of humor."
"Yeah."
"Check out the San Francisco garter." Paul suggested. The 37 inch long, slender snake had blue-green spots at the front of its dorsal scales, surrounded by black, red, and blue-green stripes. "Frisco."
"Good name. The colors are incredible." Ty glanced at snake, then Paul. "So we just boarding them until he recovers?"
"Pretty much. There's the log." His chin pointed clipboard on the near the front door. "They're set for today. He has a schedule for each snake. The freezer is stocked with rodents and insects. And, the cabinet has the other supplies."
"Sounds like we have everything we need."
"Gotta keep the generator full of gas and running."
"Right. Ventilation."
"And, the freezer, lights, temp and humidity control."
"Gotcha. This is a perfect job for Chip. He loves snakes."
"Except they all have names." He deadpanned.
"Kerry will be disappointed." Ty added, his tone not unlike Paul's.
Back in the rescue, rounds proceeded, starting with Baxter, the great horned owl, and ending with the black cougar and her cub.
Paul led into the big cats' room. Percy was still, lying on her side in the hay strewn around the cage, her eyes open but rolled back, unfocused. Fierce was next to him in a sphinx like position, watching over her offspring. The plastic cone still wrapped around her neck, her leg still splinted.
As Ty entered behind, Fierce seemed to sense his presence, turned her head, her brilliant emerald eyes locking on to him, following his every move. Her body tensed, her muscles twitched and flexed as she slowly rose to a crouch, as if she was stalking her prey. Inside the cone, her long whiskers trembled, revealing her gums and sharp teeth as her ears pinned back. Her back haunches pumped, readying a pounce. Not quite a full launch, she lunged, swatting at him clumsily, claws drawn into battle. Her injured limb hitting the reenforced wire enclosure.
Ty took a step back, then another, opting to retreat outside the room, out of her sight.
"She really doesn't like you." Paul said, his eyes on the big cat, but hers still on Ty.
"Seems like it." Ty frowned. "What's with Percy?"
"That low dose of Midazolam tranked him."
"It didn't do much to keep his mother calm." Ty added.
"I already discontinued it."
"Wish there was something we could give to calm her without affecting her cub."
"Maybe you should just stay away." He retorted.
"I'm serious. Maybe something natural. Lavender, maybe?"
"Not my area. Why don't you research that with all your extra time?" Paul said snidely as he too left the room, the door slightly ajar.
"I just might." He checked his watch for the time. "Nearly 6. The Chief and Naomi will be here shortly. I'm gonna set-up the FaceTime session in here this time." Ty indicated the open room with the long lab table. "I'll get the laptop from Mirna's office."
Just as the session established, his phone dinged. "They're here. Paul, could you keep things going here while I let the chief and Naomi in?"
Returning with only Naomi in tow, Paul and Ellen were chitchatting and laughing, both clearly in a good mood despite the early hour.
Hesitating, Ty paused for a moment then cleared his throat.
He looked up from the laptop, smiled. "Naomi, how nice to see you!" Paul stood, shook her hand, before offering his stool to her.
Curious by Ellen's effect on Paul, nevertheless, Ty kept his observations to himself. As Naomi settled, he took the stool next to her, leaning in slightly to the laptop to make introductions. Paul stood behind the two.
"Hey Ellen. Michael. Let me introduce you to Naomi Campbell, Cloud and Wind's owner." He said, although technically he and Michael owned the two horses, his goal was to return them to her by summer's end.
"Naomi, this is Dr. Ellen Edmonson. She and Michael are leading the horses' treatment plan."
"Hello Naomi!" Ellen and Michael said in tandem.
Naomi gave a shy smile, held her hand up in a tentative wave.
"Let's get started." Though detailed, the update was relatively short, with no measurable change, good or bad, from the evening before.
"So all in all, they are holding their own." Michael offered in summary. "But, their recovery outlook is very good."
"Thank you." Naomi uttered just before everyone said goodbye and the video call ended.
Paul didn't waste any time high tailing it out of there, leaving Naomi and Ty alone.
"Father will be pleased." She said simply.
"Good." He smiled. "Speaking of your father, I read that he is running for mayor."
"Yes." She said without detail.
"What made him decide to run?" He asked curiously.
"By virtue of his spirit and being, Father believes in people, building community, protecting the environment, and preserving traditions." Her words were sincere, but clearly practiced.
"Good qualities for a mayor. Are you involved with his campaign?" He asked.
"Some." She didn't elaborate, rising from her stool. "Father asked that I speak to the cougar."
"Today isn't good. She is already agitated but needs to remain calm to heal." He explained.
Without warning, a short, but high pitched squeal, almost a scream, sounded.
"She's calling me." Naomi said seriously.
Before he could stop her, she turned and calmly walked into the cougar room. He followed, remaining just outside the doorway.
Stopping directly in front the big cat, not more than a yard away, she whispered in the softest voice, almost as if she breathed the Squamish words out. "Núu, Naomi chen tl'iḵ. Chexw men wa ha7lh? A7a'yas."
She slowly lowered herself into a cross legged, lotus-like pose with hands lightly resting on her knees, eye to eye to the standing black cougar. Mesmerized, Fierce and Ty both watched her with keen interest. Settling into that pose, Naomi remained silent, relaxed, unflinching. Several minutes passed.
Mimicking her, the black cougar slowly lowered herself into her sphinx position, keeping her gaze on Naomi.
She spoke in her native tongue in a hushed voice. Opening her right hand, she held a small wood carving in her palm. She held it out to the cougar, then placed it on the floor between them. She folded her chest to her knees, bowing in respect.
Raising up to stand, she uttered. "Wa chxw yuu. Huy̓ melh halh."
Engrossed, Ty peered further into the room, inadvertently catching Fierce's attention. The wild cat signaled her displeasure, her body tensed. She bared her teeth. Instinctively, he stepped back, out of her sight line.
Naomi whispered in Squamish again, repeating the word. "A7a'yas." The cougar settled, refocused on her.
Ten more minutes passed before she rejoined him in the hallway.
"Naomi, you shouldn't have gone in there." He said first, then eased. "But that was something. What did you say to her?"
"I asked her to protect father." She said matter factly.
"Oh." Not following.
"The Xwt'luqtnuc spirit represents protection. Just as she fiercely protects her family, even to her own death."
He nodded.
"You share that same spirit."
"What do you mean?"
"Cloud and Wind. I saw it that day in the field when you rescued them. I've seen it every day since. You are their protector now." She reasoned. "But you are also human. It's natural to be torn. Xwt'luqtnuc is wise, she can sense that."
"Maybe.." He considered the possibility.
"Sit with her. Let her know you come without judgement. Show her that you are not afraid. That you are at A7a'yas."
"What does A7a'yas mean?"
"A7a'yas? Peace. That you are at peace."
The day flew by as the Rescue was busy. On top of the nearly full house, a pet turkey presented with bumblefoot, a lonely parrot that had plucked its chest feathers, and an iguana with a cystic calculi that required surgery.
As he gently placed the iguana in the warmed cage post-op, his phone signaled an emergency. He hustled to the front to find Celina with the Burton family, Ann and Don and their two grown daughters, grief stricken, tears smudging their sunburned cheeks.
"Don, Ann, is it Boo?" He asked, though he knew it was.
In late March, Ty found an aggressive tumor in the nasal cavity of their 13 year old English Setter. Aside from loud snoring, the beautiful black and white dog with long, silky ears and feathering fur showed no other outward symptoms. Just like Scott taught him, he was kind and honest as he explained in detail the diagnosis, life expectancy and treatment options. Given the tumor's size, he didn't expect him to live past 4 or 6 months. Ty recommended to the family to forgo painful treatments urging them instead to enjoy that time with their beloved pet. Now just barely two months later, they were already back.
Don, a man of few words, nodded, then stepped aside. The energetic and friendly dog at the last appointment was laying on his side in a wooden wagon, panting and shaking. His breath was labored and noisy. His eyes barely open. Though surprised, Ty didn't show it. Crouching down next to the dog, Ty stroked his head first, then placed his hand on his chest to feel the vibration of his heart and lungs.
"Hey Boo." He spoke to the dog, quiet and gentle. "How are you doing, buddy?"
"We've been at the beach house. Even Monday he was playing in the water. Almost like our old Boo. Maybe it was too much. This afternoon, we found him like this. In his bed." Ann broke down. "We came straight here."
"Ann. Going to the beach was best thing you could have done for Boo. He was with you all, the family he loves, at a place he loves." He glanced up to reassure her.
She nodded, tears began to flow unfettered. "Oh Boo." Her tears brought on sniffles, murmurs and heavy sighs from the others.
"Let's go to the back." Ty suggested, knowing that there was nothing he could do, the carcinoma was impeding the dog's ability to breathe. Carefully lifting the dying dog from the wagon, Ty led the family to a back room, the youngest daughter pulling up the rear with the wagon.
Laying Boo on the padded table, he covered him with a soft blue blanket. With the family surrounding the table, using his stethoscope he listened to the dog's heart, lungs and stomach. After checking his gums, he reported their beloved dog was not taking in sufficient amount of oxygen.
"Boo has had a long, wonderful life with you all. He was happy. I saw that every time you brought him in. His wagging tail, his big grin." Ty started.
"Is it time? We don't want to him to suffer." Don steeled, his voice even but low. The other three nodded.
"Yes, it's time."
Although the family was already prepared for this moment during their last visit, Ty again explained the procedure and its affects on Boo. "The anesthetic drug is quick and painless. Boo will go to sleep in just a few seconds, his heart will stop with a few minutes."
"We want to take him home with us." The elder daughter explained. "We are going to bury him in the garden where he likes to lay in the sun. We'll follow the rules."
"That sounds like the perfect spot, Sally. He'll always be close." He spoke directly to her.
"Please take your time, talk to him, reminisce. He knows that you are here. The sound of your voice is a great comfort to him." Ty suggested.
The four nodded solemnly.
"I'll step out to give you some privacy. Let me know when you are ready." He said, then walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Celina met him outside in the hall. "You okay?"
"Yeah." His face was ashen.
She pulled him into a hug anyhow, which he gratefully accepted.
After Boo had been euthanized and the family went to wait with Celina in the front room, Ty carefully prepared the body for the family to take home. Wrapping the stiffening body in a fresh blanket, he lifted the dog into his arms. Swaying gently, he began to hum softly.
After the afternoon teleconference with Michael and Ellen, and rounds with Paul, Ty made a beeline for the front door.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Celina said from behind her desk.
Stopping in his tracks, replied flatly. "Oh hey. Didn't see you there."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Oh, right. Roscoe's. I need a beer. Or three."
"Tough day, I know."
"Yeah." He paused for a second, then asked. "Wanna come?"
"Serious?" She was surprised.
"Um. I could use the company. If you.."
"I'm in. Let me close up here first. And, let James know. It'll just take a minute." She began to shutdown her computer.
Given the pouring down rain, Roscoe's was slow. Rick welcomed them as they settled into stools at the bar, then shucked their jackets.
"What can I get you two?" Rick asked.
"A cab and a cheeseburger, please." Without looking at a menu, Celina ordered first as Rick made note on the order pad.
"Red Truck and cheeseburger." Ty followed.
"Fries?"
"Yep." They replied in tandem.
"Ketchup bottle too." Ty added.
"Naturally."
From their side of the bar, they intently watched Rick pour their drinks then place their full glasses on the bar in front of them.
"One cab and one Red. Need anything else?"
"No. Thanks Rick." Celina replied.
"Sure thing Ms. Celina. I'll get your dinner orders in." He ripped the slip off, before tucking the order pad into his apron and stepping away.
Each still facing bar, Celina took a sip of her wine while glancing sideways at Ty taking a long draw of beer, then another. From his profile, his body language, she could tell he was slipping into his head. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm good." He replied, not looking at her.
"Ty?! Talk to me."
He rocked slightly on his stool before answering. "Boo was one of my first patients at the rescue. It's just, I don't know...I should be used to this by now." His gray mood clouded even more as he spoke.
"Death is hard. We never get used to it. And we shouldn't. Every life is too precious. We should mourn every life's passing."
He sighed heavily.
They sat silently nursing their beverages for several moments.
Celina turned to Ty, held her glass up to him. "Cheers!"
Despite his reservation, he clinked his glass against hers. "Why not? Cheers." He took a swig. "What are we toasting?"
"How about to Boo and all the dogs we've loved?" She suggested.
"Okay then. To Boo."
"To Boo and Petunia!"
"Petunia? Was she a poodle?" He guessed.
"Rottweiler. And in case you're interested. Petunia was a 140 pound, muscular, fully intact male who was a pussy cat."
"How about that."
"Have you ever heard of the children's book, "Good Dog Carl" by Alexandra Day?" She asked.
"Can't say I have."
"You missed a classic. Carl is a Rottweiler too. My boys and Petunia, especially Petunia, used to love that book. Anyhow.." Celina dove into several amusing stories, making Ty smile first, laugh, then finally relax.
"And, Petunia is why we now have only cats."
"Funny."
Rick slid their burgers and fries in front them. "And, here's your jumbo bottle ketchup. Let me know if you need more." Rick winked.
"Looks great."
"Thanks Rick."
"Enjoy. I'll leave it to you then." He said wiping his hands on a towel.
After farting ketchup on to their fries and chuckling, each took a hearty bite of their burger, muttering Mmm. Two bites in, Celina broached the topic of UCVM. "What do you think?"
"It's not what I really want to do but, Mirna's right.. there's no free lunch. And, they agreed to take in the horses."
"It will be good experience for you." She suggested. "And, you get paid."
"And, at least I get to work with Michael."
"A definite bonus."
"What about Mirna? She good with all of this?" He asked.
"Yes, of course. She thinks you'll make a great professor given your experience."
"Ha." He rolled his eyes.
"She wants you to look at other opportunities. The rescue won't be open forever, you know."
"What are you saying?"
"We're both getting long in tooth. It's time to start thinking about the next stage of our lives."
"And what does that include?"
"Well. James Jr and his wife are pregnant with boy! We just found out." She beamed. "They're due around Thanksgiving. James Gomez III."
"No kidding. Congratulations." He reached over and hugged her.
"Yeah. We're pretty excited."
"No doubt, you and James will be wonderful grandparents."
"Hope so. I'll probably go overboard with spoiling." She admitted.
"Lucky baby."
Halfway through their burgers, she changed the subject. "So, did you read that Sun article?"
He nodded in response, not looking up from his burger as he shoved in another bite.
"And?" She pushed for more.
He chewed slowly, purposely dragging out every movement then finally swallowed. "There is no and." He said without giving an inch. "I read it at least."
"Ty." She said in a motherly way.
He took a long draw on his beer draining his glass and signaled Rick for another.
"Fine. What would you like to know?" He relented knowing he could not escape her inquisition without being rude.
"Your reaction, of course."
"My reaction? I really didn't have one." He fibbed.
"Well, Amy sounds like such a lovely woman, quite accomplished at only 25 years of age." Celina tried a different tack.
"26." He corrected. "Amy is 26. She'll be 27 in a couple months." He mumbled something under his breath.
"Hmm. Still. At 26, almost 27, she's done a lot. Rehabbed unwanted horses, tamed wild ones. Trained top athletes and horses. Competed herself. On top of running two successful businesses." She smiled. "Pretty impressive, don't you think?"
"Yeah. She seems to be doing very well. But, I am not surprised." He agreed, giving just an inch. He nodded at Rick as he placed another beer before him. He took a good swig.
"I think I would like her." She mused.
"You would love her. And vice versa." He replied without hesitation.
"Really?"
"Yeah. You have some of the same qualities." He explained.
"Like?"
"Fishing for compliments, huh?" He chided her.
"Of course!" She wasn't coy about it. "Now out with it." She laughed.
"Okay then. Well. You are both smart, passionate, kind. Determined. Helpful to a fault. You look out for the little guy, the abused and forgotten. You see the best in people."
"Hmm." She took his words in, then teased. "You didn't mention beautiful."
He laughed. "That goes without saying."
"You miss her."
He nodded.
"Ty. You should reach out."
"I can't. She asked me not to. I told you that." He scrutinized her face. "Wait. Did you call her?"
"No. of course not."
"Good. Promise me you won't either."
"Ty..."
"Promise."
"Fine. Promise. I just don't see why you can't."
"Look, I messed up, Celina. Okay? It wasn't the first time either. Can't we just leave it alone?" Frustrated, he took another long draw from his beer glass.
"Ty. Our past actions do not determine our future fate." She counseled. "You can still be friends."
"No. She told me she moved on. Clearly that's the case, she's engaged." He reasoned.
"They're not engaged."
"All but."
"I think it's one sided."
"Why?" Surprised, he turned to her. "What do you know?"
"It's my womanly intuition."
"Yeah, right." He muttered as he shook his head.
"Didn't you think it was odd in the article, he said something like he hoped that they would become more than friends? Or, that he'd spend the rest of his life showing his gratitude, if she'd let him? If they were so close to marriage, why did he mention if they were dating? Because they are not. The whole article seemed very one-sided to me."
"Of course, it was one-sided. Amy wasn't interviewed for the article." He gave a plausible reason.
"That was weird too. Ms. Fleming couldn't be contacted for the article. Really? That's a canary in the coal mine if you ask me."
"It doesn't really matter what the article said. I'm not going to contact her." He was resolute.
"Ty Borden. Why in the world do think you're somehow unloveable and unforgivable?
"Nah. I don't think that." He put on a good face. "You love me, don't you? You'd forgive me most anything, wouldn't you?"
"You know I do. And would."
"See." He pulled out his wallet, then put his credit card on the bar. "Rick? Check please." He drained his beer.
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he added. "It's getting late. I need to get A.K. from the rescue."
She nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over, but was satisfied that they had talked through things.
Outside, the rain had stopped but the night air was cool and damp. He held her car door open as she slid behind the wheel.
"You sure you're okay to drive?" She asked.
"Of course. I only had two beers." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You worry too much."
"Of course I do. I love you."
"Love you too." He said, then closed her door. He waved as he watched her drive away.
Freshly showered and in bed with A.K., he pulled the article out of his nightstand and reread it with a new perspective. His eyes lingered on her picture, until his eyes grew heavy with sleep. This time he stayed in his own bed until morning.
Between the Face-time with Ellen and Michael, rounds with Paul, taking care of menagerie of animals and snakes in between, Friday and Saturday rolled steadily by, Ty didn't have a second of time to stop and think about anything.
Precisely at 2 Saturday afternoon, Ty, dressed in hiking boots, cargo pants, long sleeved t-shirt, fleece, and ball cap, emerged from the rescue carrying an overstuffed Osprey backpack on his shoulder. He held the door for Celina, who carried a small orange igloo cooler.
James exited the truck from the driver's side, approached them. "Hey Ty."
"James." The two men shook hands. "Looks like we gonna get a couple of good days."
"Yeah. Now that the rain's cleared off. Throw your pack in the bed with the others. Strap it down good with that spare bungee cord."
"We'll do." He walked towards the back of the truck, leaving the longtime couple to say their goodbyes.
"All ready?" Celina asked as stepped up, toe to toe with James.
"As ready as can be." He smiled at his wife.
"Made some lunch for your trip. Ham and cheese sandwiches. Chip and apples. Some drinks." She handed him the small cooler.
"Thanks hon. You're too good to me." He kissed her forehead, then found her lips for a quick peck.
"Have fun. But, come back in one piece."
"Promise. Love you."
"Love you more." She leaned in for another kiss.
He smiled knowing that neither would settle for just another peck. With his free arm, he pulled her gently closer as their lips connected, soft but roving, not wanting to part. When their lips did part, their foreheads touched briefly.
"I will see you tomorrow around 4." James muttered.
With her nod, he smiled again before turning away. He climbed into the truck, waving goodbye before closing his door.
James turned in the driver's seat and make introductions. "Ty. That's Jordan Palmer sitting next to you and Blake Mazlow upfront. Jordan and Maz, Ty Borden."
Ty shook hands with the two men, roughly his same age, and exchanged pleasantries.
"Celina made us lunch for the road. Ham and cheese sandwiches. And other stuff." He tapped the cooler. "Ty. Stick this on the floorboard. Help yourselves. We have an hour's drive and 3 hour hike ahead of us. So eat and drink up. All set men?"
Making good road time, they arrived Golden Ears Provincial Park just after 3:15 and parked. The temperature was mild, not more than 50 degrees, perfect for hiking.
"Spray down and fill up your water bottles before we get on our way." James instructed as he liberally sprayed the repellent all over his body, head to toe. The other three followed suit.
Strapping their packs on their backs and bear and bug sprays onto their belts, James warned the men. "There hasn't been a bear sighting in a several days, but still, be on the look out. It's best to walk in twos and keep the conversation going."
"Bears? You didn't mention any bears." Maz seemed shook.
"Maz. Bears are more afraid of you than you are of them. They don't particularly like noise. So, on the slim chance we see one, we'll bunch up, make ourselves appear big, wave our arms and make some noise. Almost like a Canuck-Flame game. Questions?"
"Have you see any?" Maz asked, still clearly concerned.
"In the 20 or so times I've hiked here, I've seen only one. She ran as soon as she saw us. Be more afraid of the biting insects than the bears."
Maz nodded, appearing somewhat relieved.
"We can switch up partners as we go. Maz, you and I will lead to start."
"Sounds good." Maz replied.
"Guess we're partners then." Ty said to Jordan.
"Yeah. Sounds good." He replied.
"Ready then?"
Commencing the 3 hour hike, the four men took the Lower Falls Trail to the Connector Trail Loop to the bridge, then hiked on the west side of the Gold Creek, mostly in twos but occasionally single file were the trail narrowed or had fallen in disrepair. The scenery along the trail was breathtaking, an old growth forest of towering evergreen trees and red alders with lush under flora of ferns and yellow stream violets, bubbling creeks, thundering waterfalls. A cautious doe with two speckled fawns at her side watched frozen until they passed, then scampered across the trail behind them.
Vacillating between moderately challenging to difficult, the long hike was cathartic, both physically and mentally, forcing the men to work together at times, but mostly just to talk, something that the two veterans struggled with.
When they broke through the forest into the clearing at Hikers Beach just before 6, the four were mesmerized by the view. The wide beach of bleached rounded stone hugged the shallow river painted an emerald green, sparkling under the late afternoon sun, bright skies and snow capped twin peaks of Golden Ears. The beach was all theirs to enjoy as no other campers were there.
"Wow."
"This place never disappoints." James said gleefully.
"I wasn't expecting this." Ty muttered.
"And, we have the place to ours. Our lucky day." James declared. "Let's get everything set up."
Working in teams, the two man tents were pitched, complete with thermarests and sleeping bags, in short order.
"We have a couple of hours of day light to catch and cook dinner. Let's switch to river boots, assemble our fishing gear, and space out along the creek. Make no mistake, the water is cold."
"Been fishing long?" Jordan asked as Ty demonstrated how to assemble the graphite fly rod, attach the metal reel, string the line from backing, fly line, leader to the tippet, then add the fly.
"I suppose so. Maybe since my late teens." His mind went to Jack, his patience in trying to teach him the finer points and art of fly fishing, lessons that Ty now wished he had paid closer attention.
"Are you any good?" Jordan asked.
Ty scoffed. "At one time I was decent. Now I'm rusty. It's been years since my last time."
"Why? Didn't you like it?"
"No, I did. Jack, the man who taught me, was an expert, even tied his own flies." He imagined Jack in the corner of the wood paneled living room, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, concentrating on the tiny feathers, colorful beads, and the metallic thread that bound them to the hook.
"Anyhow, he made fly fishing look so easy, like poetry in motion, as the line sailed through the air, gracefully whipping back and forth, until the fly danced on the water's surface. Man, Jack was in heaven when he was fishing." He smiled.
"Who was this Jack guy?"
Ty smiled before he answered. "Jack was like a father to me, more than my own dad. When we fished, I just liked being with him, watching him fish, enjoying every cast." The memory tugged at him.
"Did he die?" Jordan asked, startling Ty.
"No, no. Thankfully, no." Ty shook his head, realizing he gave that impression. "But, time and circumstance have a way of changing things. I haven't seen him in years."
"That's too bad. Sounds like he meant a lot to you."
"He did. He does still. He shaped a lot of who I am."
"James says that we shouldn't let time and distance get in the way of telling someone how we feel."
"Good advice. Unfortunately, it's more complicated than that." Ty handed him the readied rod.
"Yeah. Get that. It always is." Pursing his lips, Jordan examined the rod.
"What about you? Have you ever fished?" Ty asked.
"Nope. This will be my first time." He explained. "My father wasn't in the picture. And the military doesn't teach that kind of stuff."
"Right." Not wanting to get into anything too personal, Ty changed the topic back to fishing. "Well, today's a good day to learn, not that I am a great teacher, mind you. Apparently our dinner depends upon how well I remember and how quickly you catch on."
They both laughed.
After assembling the rods, Ty and Jordan ventured calf deep into the frigid water where Ty demonstrated how to cast overhead with a smooth back acceleration and stop, then forward acceleration and stop.
"You try."
Jordan mimicked Ty, fairly closely, and with a few casts, began to get the hang of it.
"You catch on quick."
"I kinda cheated and watched YouTube video this week."
"You're smarter than you look." Ty teased.
"You sound like my ex-wife." Jordan laughed, didn't seem to take exception to the teasing. "So. How do I know if I caught something?"
"You have to think like a fish first."
"Come on." He rolled his eyes.
"No really. Hear me out. A fish doesn't just swim in a straight line down stream, he swims and darts looking for tempting morsels to eat, trying not to get eaten by something bigger. Sometimes he swims upstream, then down. Sometimes he swims across the flow, to the surface and down again. It's seems random."
"Okay. That makes sense."
"So you have to watch for signs that the fish is taking the bait for a swim. Watch your line, see if it seems to be moving in a different direction than floating downstream. Watch for varying tension in the line. Watch the tip of your rod, see if it dips. Feel for a vibration or jerking in your rod."
"Okay."
"Likewise, when you cast, you have to think like a fly, looking for something to eat without getting eaten. They don't just land in the water and float downstream. They move, jump, fly off and land again. So you have to recast."
"Seems like a lot of work."
"Guess that depends if you have reason enough to want to catch fish."
"Right. Let's fish. I'm getting hungry."
By the time the sun was dipping well into the west, seven decent sized fish, three cutthroat and four rainbow trout were cleaned and ready to be cooked over the campfire for dinner. James caught the lion share, three cutthroat and one rainbow. The others each got a single rainbow trout.
After a simple but satisfying meal of fish steamed in butter, salt, pepper and lemon in foil pouches and steamed brown rice in a separate pouch, the four sat around the small camp fire, cracking in the still darkness of the night.
"That was mighty tasty." Maz offered. "I'm stuffed to the gill."
The others groan at his pun.
"So James, did your dad teach you how to fish?" Jordan asked. "You're pretty smooth out there."
"No." He shook his head. "My dad died when I was a toddler." He hesitated, not sure if he should tell the story.
"Actually, he suffered from PTSD associated with his service in the Korean War. He took his own life." James said in a forthright, matter of factly tone, surprising Ty who had never heard that story. Nor had the other two.
"Canada's Forgotten War. That's tough, James." Jordan replied. "Sorry."
"Thanks. I don't really remember anything about him. What I do know is from old photos and stories." He paused.
"Regardless. It's hard not having a dad around to guide you." Jordan said in empathy.
"No matter what, presence or absence, love or neglect, fathers and mothers shape their children in profound and complicated ways, good and bad." James said.
The three young men muttered yeah, in some form or fashion, acknowledging James' supposition. All focusing on the fire before them.
"That's my problem. It's bad either way." Maz spoke up. " I used to think my dad hated me when I was a kid. He was always yelling at me or hitting me for something I did or didn't do. At night, I'd pray that he would go away. Then I was seven when he left. Just disappeared. Seven. For years I blamed myself for him leaving. I prayed that he'd come back."
"What did you do?"
"What didn't I do? I was angry, acted out, got in trouble, beat up anyone who got in my way. Then I got suspended from school. By then, I was flunking out."
"What happened?" Ty asked.
"Sarge, the resource officer at school, got me to enroll me in the Junior Cadet program. Looking back, I think it was the turning point in my life. He saved me. After I graduated, I enlisted in the Army."
"You were fortunate to have such a caring individual in your life." James echoed.
"Yeah. I am. But, sometimes I still feel like that little seven year old kid, sad, unloved and unwanted. Sometimes I hate my dad so much that I want to hurt him like he hurt me. But, other times I just wish he was in my life." Maz confessed. "May be he could have taught me to fish."
"Every thing you're feeling is expected and normal given your situation. The truth is, your father is a flawed human being. The things he did or didn't do, good or bad, is on him. He is who is he. You can't change him. Only he can do that."
He nodded.
"What you can do is understand the situation, accept it for what it is, release yourself from any bond or blame, and love yourself. You are not him. You are you. Separate and a part." James explained.
Heads now filled with James' words, each stared into the campfire.
"So, how did you learn to fish so good if it wasn't your dad?" Jordan asked.
"My wife's dad." He smiled, then began to reminisce. "When I high school, I was a lot like you...angry, always getting in trouble. Instead of going to Junior Cadet, I was sent to an all boys Catholic Hugh School under Monsignor, a strict disciplinarian. He did not spare the rod. After graduation, I enlisted in the Army. Even before he became my father-in-law, he spent time with me, showing me what a man can be. He listened to me, shaped me, lectured me. Loved me for who I was. I am eternally grateful. And, yes, he taught me patience by teaching me to fish."
"No one taught me to fish, but Sarge taught me how to be a man. How to treat a lady, how to work hard. How to make something of myself." He sighed. "I haven't talked to him in ages."
"It's never too late. You can always reach out. Let him know his impact on you. Bet he that would appreciate hearing that."
"I'll think about it. Sarge never liked mushy stuff." Maz admitted.
"Don't let too much time pass." James advised. "It's as much for you, as it is for him."
"My grandfather stepped in when my dad left. He's my everything. My rock and my heart." Jordan said. "I tell him every day. He is 81 now, a bit frail. I want to make sure he knows." He paused. "But, still, I have those angry thoughts about my dad, especially when things are going bad. Like when my wife and I divorced. I felt like a failure."
"That too is completely normal and expected given your situation. Talk with your sounding boards, your grandfather for one."
"Who taught you to fish Ty?"
"My friend Jack. Like you, my dad was absent, often in jail. I was assigned to Jack's ranch as a part of my probation from juvie. He taught me how to drive cattle, work hard, how to be a man and a gentleman. How to control my temper. He tried to teach me to be honest and keep my word. But, I failed. So, I haven't spoken to him since."
"The goodness in a man runs much deeper than one moment in time, Ty. You made a mistake, grow from it." James recited.
"Funny, I've heard Jack say that a time or two." He shook his head. "Truth is, I want to reach out to him, but reaching out will cause more hurt."
"Nothing changes if nothing changes." James quoted one of the Alcoholics Anonymous lines. "Bet he'd love to hear from you."
That night, long after the conversation had died down, the men retreated to their tent, snuggled under the sleeping bag's warmth. The cool night air combined with exhaustion from the long hike made for perfect sleeping.
In the morning, after a hearty breakfast of instant oatmeal, dried fruit and instant coffee, the men tried their hand at fishing again besting their Saturday catch by five, releasing all but four fish. Repeating their menu of trout and rice from the night before for lunch, the camping site was then cleaned and packed up by noon.
Taking the East Canyon Trail the whole way to the parked truck, the hike was both easier and shorter, a welcomed relief. Back at the rescue at 4 as promised, Celina waiting outside, A.K. in her arms, to welcome them home.
"You made it back." Celina asked as she hugged her husband.
"We made it back in one piece and on time. Like I promised." James kissed her cheek.
"Did you have fun?"
"We did. It's so beautiful there." Ty reported, taking his growing kitten into his arms before giving Celina a hug.
"So glad to hear it. No bears?"
"No bears." James reassured her.
"James, thanks for inviting me. I had a blast. Next time you go, I'm in."
"Thanks Ty. I owe you one."
"Nah. It was my pleasure. Best weekend I've had in years." He shook James' hand. "Everything good here?"
"Yep. Chip and Kerry did a good job. They only had to call Mirna once when the generator in the snake mobile ran out of gas. Joe was came by, filled it up and got it running again. So, everything is good."
"Good to hear. I'll send them a text thanking them."
"They'll love that."
"You still okay to take care of A.K. again while I'm gone?" He rubbed her tiny head with his thumb.
"She's coming home with us tonight. We're going to have a kitty party with tuna fish."
"PurrrFect!. Thanks again." Celina rolled her eyes, then laughed as she accepted the kitten back.
"Be good A.K. Do everything Mamma C tells you to do."
"Mirna will be at your apartment 6, so you better hustle. You'll want to shower. Both of you." She grimaced slightly. "You smell like fish."
"Yeah, we're kinda stinky!" He laughed.
As Ty drove away, Celina said. "Well, he's certainly in a good mood."
"Yeah. It was a good trip for us all." He kissed her cheek. "Come on. Let's go home. I missed my beautiful wife."
Back at his apartment, he showered, shaved, and packed lightly. With more than 30 minutes to spare before Mirna arrived, he sent off a text to Chip and Kerry thanking them for manning the rescue's night shift, two nights in a row.
"Sure thing. We're expecting raises when you get back, otherwise we'll release the Leprechaun." He added snake, leprechaun and 4-leaf clover emojis.
Ty chuckled. "Oh, is that so? You drive a hard bargain!"
"That is so. We're still debating who's going to open the cage. Kerry is behind on Rock, Paper, Scissors."
Ty laughed. "What a swell boyfriend."
Kerry typed. "My thought exactly.!!!! Have a safe trip Ty. Ps. We have a new patient. Thumper, a European rabbit."
Chip chimed in. "She had an abscessed ear. Paul let me drain it. It was really gross but so cool."
"Good experience to have."
"It was gross." Kerry added an emoji of a yellow face vomiting and attached a video of Chip lancing the pus-filled abscess.
"Good work Chip. Kerry, you can have the next one."
"Ah No. Final answer."
Snickering, he slid his phone into his jacket, only to pull it back out again. He had been thinking about Jack ever since yesterday. He found his number to call but at the last moment decided against it. Instead he dialed her number.
"Fairfield Stables, how can I help you?"
Recognizing the voice from the last time he called, he said. "Hello Liz. This is Ty Borden. Is Lisa Stillman back from France yet?"
"Hello Dr. Borden. No, they won't be back until Friday at the earliest. Can I leave a message?"
"No. I'll just call back Friday."
When he hung up, he texted Celina asking her to send Lisa a thank you card for her donation.
Mirna picked up Ty outside of his apartment. He carried a small overnight bag and a small vet bag.
"All set?" She asked as he got in the front passenger seat.
"All set." On the drive to the airport, he told be about their camping trip, the hike, scenery, fishing, their dinner. He left out the details about their personal conversations.
"You sure seem more relaxed than you have in some time." She mentioned.
"You know, I feel relaxed too. I think being outside, in fresh air. Getting exercise. Fishing. I slept so well last night. The whole thing was really great."
"You should do it more often then." She suggested.
"I already volunteered to go on James's next camp trip."
"Good. I'm glad."
As they strode into their gate waiting area, Ty did a double take. "Is that Paul?"
"Our Paul? Where?" He pointed to him sitting in a row of seats by the window. He was wearing dress khaki's, loafers and a pressed pink button down. His hair was cut and his face clean shaven. He was read something on his phone.
"Well, I'll be. Is he going with us?" Mirna asked.
"It sure looks like it."
"He looks like he's going on a date."
"Ellen." They said together.
"Let me handle this." Mirna suggested.
They took the seats on either side of him. "Paul. Fancy seeing you here. Are you going to Calgary for a little get away?"
"I am." He didn't give up much.
"Well great. Where are you staying?"
"The Holiday Inn express by University."
"I'm staying at the Aloft not far from you. Want to share a car?" She asked.
"Thanks but I already rented one. Ty where are you staying?"
"Michael's apartment."
"Hmm." Paul went back to reading his phone until they boarded their plane.
The one hour flight to Calgary was packed, so the three vets were not able to sit together. This suited Ty. He brought along a new book, "Veterinary Herbal Medicine, Edition One" and was anxious to get started reading it. Immersed into the book, the flight flew by quickly, so to speak.
Once in the terminal, Ty checked his messages while he waited for the others. He had a text from Michael.
"Ty. Something incredible has happened. I'll meet you at my apartment tonight around 10 and tell you everything. Get the key from Mrs. Kelley, my next door neighbor. She knows you're coming. She makes the Strawberry Fig jam. See you soon."
Nearly an hour later, Ty heard a key jiggling in the front door of his apartment. Padding to the door in bare feet, he opened the door to a flustered Michael.
"Hey Michael." He gave him a bro-hug. "Come on in."
"Ty. Sorry I wasn't here to meet you early." He rushed past him, in the living room.
"Its's all good. Mrs. Kelley gave me another jar of jam."
"That's good." He paced in the living room
"Are you okay? I think you should have a seat."
"Ty. I met her." He blurred out. "The one."
"Slow down Michael. Who are you talking about?"
"The woman I plan to marry. Alicia Kennedy." His eyes were shining with tears of happiness.
Readers.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. The Small World is getting smaller.
The Boo in this chapter is our family dog and the icon for my FanFiction stories. He passed away from complications of an aggressive nasal tumor. He was a great dog, very loving and cuddly. He is missed.
SBR