Climbing in the Big Horns

    The sun disappeared behind billowy clouds.  Eddie and Joanne climbed single file up the steep trail around the outcroppings.  Taking the lead with his long stride, Eddie distanced himself from Joanne.  He turned to look at her, knowing she was hanging back. 
    "You're not even trying to keep up," he said.
    Joanne stopped.  She resented his being first because he always set too fast a pace.  She liked it better when she lead up the trail.  Her pace would be more even, and they wouldn't fight about how she was slowing them down to be in control.  But then again, they would fight about how long it took them to get anywhere.
    "We have all day to get there," she said.  "What's your hurry?"
    He shrugged his shoulders.  What could he say?  He turned back to the trail, climbing much higher toward the summit. 
    Joanne shook her head and squinted as sunlight broke through the clouds.  She saw Eddie disappear around a switchback above her.  She thought they were supposed to be together on the trail.  Getting there was supposed to be romantic, supposed to make them feel more together, being in the mountains of Wyoming that they both loved.
    Eddie, though, wanted to get to the campsite and relax.  He imagined a fire crisp and crackling in the fall air and saw himself lying by it, playing his harmonica.  He had all the tunes in mind.  A perfect romantic time for the two of them, her special Chardonnay, even if it was in a plastic bottle, Swiss cheese, those yummy crackers that he loved, and she loved too. At least she said she did.
    Joanne looked down at the puzzle board of trees and lakes below.  She wiggled her feet in her tight boots.  She felt blisters forming on her heels.  Lowering her backpack, she shouted,  "I'm taking a break."
    From above, Eddie looked down at her.  He couldn't believe it.  They had been on the trail for only an hour.  A break already.  They'd never make it before dark.  He kicked his foot in the shale. 
    A small rock bounced down and crossed the trail before her, then continued rolling down the steep slope.   Kicking stones loose, she thought.  What a childish thing to do!  He always let her know when he was mad.
    Eddie stood where he was, but he didn’t like the quiet.  He liked the noise of the shale, letting him know he was making progress toward his camp at the top of the mountain.  He could see the wild animals of the past, trooping up the trail just like him.  The primitive past right here in the Big Horns. 
    Joanne set the backpack down.  White adhesive tape would help.  She took off her shoes and socks, and tore two pieces, putting them on each blister.  She was sliding her arms into her pack when Eddie came up, his feet pouncing on the terrain, scattering gravel and shale.  Honestly!  Oblivious to the noise he made, he scared all the wildlife away.  She sure wouldn’t be seeing the big horn sheep she saw years ago hiking with her father.  Unlike her father, Eddie had no sense of the harmony of the peaks and valleys or of the wild animals that chose to let themselves be seen. The animals, unannounced, caught her off-guard, but she loved them for that too.  It was the way it should be, animals in their world, wary of people.  That made her smile in spite of her hurt feet.
    Eddie waited for her to get her pack on.  "Are you ready now?" he asked.
          Joanne nodded. 
           She's not speaking, he thought.   She's upset with me.  So she had blisters on her feet.  If she'd worn her old boots, she would have been perfectly comfortable.  He remembered reminding her about the steep trail.  "Wear your old boots," he said.  She had argued that her new ones needed to be broken in.  Now she stood next to him.
    "Why don't I set the pace this time?" she asked warily.  "It would be a lot easier on both of us."
        "We need to get to camp sooner than you can get us there," Eddie said.  He looked up at the clouds.   "There's a storm's coming in pretty fast."  
         It was useless for her to argue with a Taurus.  How could she have married such an obstinate independent man?  And going on two years.  So what if it rained?  She'd been hiking in the rain, even in snow storms with her father.  She wasn't afraid of weather.  She loosely laced her boots, flexing her hot feet.  "After you then," she said.   Her sarcasm slipped into the air between them.
    Eddie set out ahead.  He was very aware that Joanne liked to be first, always first, but he wanted them to get there and have a romantic evening, even if it did storm.  Okay, so her pace was consistent, it still slowed them down.  He had timed them when she was in the lead, but he knew if he said that he had, she'd never forgive him for having to be right.  He needed to be right.  He liked being right.
      Joanne shuffled along the trail.  If the blisters got any worse, she wouldn’t make it to the top.  Ouch, that blister felt raw, even with the tape..   She bent sideways to adjust her left boot and felt her pack shift, the weight thrown to one side.  Her ankle collapsed.  A heavy shiver of pain darted up her leg.  She lost her balance, reaching out into nothing with nothing to hang on to.  She tumbled and rolled down the slope.  Her hands flew up to protect her face. She stopped abruptly, wedged against low bushes.  She looked up, trying to catch her breath.   
      Eddie plodded along ahead, the music of the shale in his ears.  His foot slipped.  "Careful, it's tricky here," he called back.  When he turned around, he didn't see her.  Now what?   He retraced his path back down the trail briskly.  She's probably sitting on another rock.  He was aware of his stride, feeling sure-footed like a mountain goat.  But he was aware his pacing was off for the high elevation.  He was out of breath too quickly.  He stood at the boulder where she had taken a break.  Where was she?  He pushed his feet on the trail harder now, heading again up the mountain. 
    I should have let her go first, he thought.  She's gotten lost.  Or maybe she's turned back and left me up here alone.  She’d have to be really angry to go down the side of the mountain without telling me.  He looked down over the narrow part of the shale trail toward the pines and blue water.  A bright piece of yellow caught his eye.  Far below, Joanne lay with her left leg hidden under her right.
    She was pushing at her pack, straining to pull herself up to the trail.   She didn't call out to him.  She held her head down trying to get more air in the high altitude.  Pain shot through her body from her ankle to her back.
    Why didn't she call out?  Eddie thought, as he headed down toward her.  He would have heard her if she had.  He cupped his hands to make sure she heard him the first time he yelled.         "Are you ok?"  The words echoed around him. 
           She turned her body, a twisted pirouette.  She looked up at him, and he heard her laugh.  But when he approached, he saw that her face was pale under her tan, pinched and tight.  He stumbled through the low bushes to her.
    Joanne was angry.  If he hadn't made such a big deal about her new boots, she would have worn the old ones.  He was always telling her how to do things.  Her ankle pounded with pain.  Still, if she held her leg still, the throbbing didn't get any worse.
         Eddie slid down next to her, making small switchbacks to keep his balance, rattling rocks that rolled past her toward the lake below.   He almost lost his balance. 
     "Something's torn in my ankle," she said.  "Help me up."  
    He braced himself, and finally had her sitting with her leg stretched out.  He removed her back pack. 
         She sat looking at him, her eyes staring far off into the mountains.  She felt stupid for letting him make her angry enough to leave her boots loose.
         She won't be able to place any weight on that ankle, he thought.  She will resent any more of my help.  So independent. But that was why he had married her in the first place.  He knew she would be offended by any suggestion he would make right now, but he plunged ahead. 
    "We can be back down to the base camp in an hour.  We'll leave the packs here, and I'll come back for them later.  All you have to do is lean on my shoulder, and I'll carry most of your weight against me.  It's going to hurt." 
        Joanne didn't like having to count on Eddie.  She moved her foot.  More pain.  She couldn't walk on it.  Why should she be the one hurt?   Why hadn't it been him?  She could rescue him, support his weight.  She didn't like being beholding to anyone.  Years ago, her father had made it very clear that a person shouldn't owe anybody anything.
    Every time they had gone hiking, he repeated the same thing,  "Don't let people take advantage of you or your feelings.  Keep them at a distance, like the mountains, until you go there.  Then make small hikes in to them now and then, but come away so you can be yourself, separate and alone."
    Eddie reached into the pack for the water bottle.  Everything would have been perfect, he thought.  Now it won’t be.  I’m not going to get to the top.  Why did these things happen?  All his life with everything he did, even his drawings, he tried to be ordered and careful.  The precise engineer.  That way nothing out of the ordinary could catch him off guard.  He figured he shouldn't have tried to pressure Joanne into wearing her old boots.  She might have worn the new ones to spite him.  Could he blame her?  He clipped the water bottle to his belt.
    Joanne had taken her father's absolutes for her own way of operating, and they worked most of time.  When she was single, her father's words had held her up.  Married, she tried to live up to the echo of his voice, but the words let her down.  Now she felt a giving-in feeling, something she hadn't needed to make before.  She squinted at the Eddie, now a dark outline in the bright light behind him.  Who was this man she married?
    She reached into her pocket slowly for her sunglasses.  She put them on.  "Okay, let's get going," she said. "Ouch."  Another  spasm of pain rocked her body while her ankle hung in space.
         Eddie lifted her up, pulling her arm over his shoulder.  He felt her body next to him.  Hesitant, he was trying to do the right thing.  He decided not to say anything about the loose boots.
    At least he's trying, Joanne thought.  And, there was something else--the change of his stride to suit hers.  She hopped next to him, slow in getting her balance. 
    Eddie waited for her.  He wasn't sure of anything and hoped he’d done the right thing..  He nudged her forward, and he felt her matching his step--a three-legged race down the mountain before the storm.
    Joanne saw the snow clouds.  Her father would have told her to get off the mountain.  And fast.  But maybe, for once, even with clouds like that, there wouldn't be a storm.  She gritted her teeth.  She was aware of how noisy they both were with shale slipping around them. 
    They headed down the trail, together,  toward distant trees and the lake that lay at the foot of the mountain.