“There’s a prize for the first couple out and, I’m afraid, a penalty for the last. One final little challenge. Right, Ken?”
The trash wizard doesn’t say anything. He just holds up a doctor’s bag that could contain anything from a ham sandwich to a nuke.
Dan gives us all a grin.
“Does everybody understand the rules? Remember, you have to stick to the route on your map. There’s also a penalty for any couple that uses another couple’s route.”
Juliette raises a start pistol over her head.
“You better have the idea by now, kids, because three, two, one . . . Go!” she yells, and fires the gun. Ten couples sprint away in ten different directions like lambs off to slaughter.
I walk in the direction of our route until Janet grabs my hand and pulls me.
“Come on,” they say. “It’s a race. If we’re first we’ll win the prize.”
I pull her back a little.
“Calm down. This isn’t running weather. It’s got to be over a hundred.”
From behind us Juliette yells, “A hundred and fifteen.”
Janet waves to her.
“We’re fine,” they say, but still pull me in a slow trot.
I have the map, so when we come to the bottom of the hill I take the lead on the trail. I have to admit I’m surprised at first. The climb isn’t that bad and unless the fire is going to start in the next hour or so, we should make it out of the canyon in plenty of time. Janet comes up beside me and snatches the map out of my hands.
“Hurry up, Grandpa. I want that prize.”
They run up the trail and I lope along behind them.
When it’s 115 degrees out, enthusiasm will only take you so far before reality sets in. After an hour of walking, the trail becomes more difficult. The ground is all loose gravel and stones. There’s nothing you can do but trudge through stuff like that, a step at a time. Each misstep sends you sliding back down the trail a few yards so that you have to climb the same damn ground again. Over and over. Finally Janet gives in and says, “I have to stop a minute.”
I took off my coat a half hour ago, so I’m happy for a break. They hand me back the map and take a swig from the canteen.
“Fuck!” Janet yells, and spits out a mouthful of water.
I take the canteen and smell it.
“Salt water.”
“What a shitty thing to do,” they say.
“Dan and Juliette let a guy get eaten by a tiger and you’re surprised they spiked the water?”
“When you put it that way, I guess not.”
“You know, I could make it good water. It’s easy hoodoo.”
Janet snatches back the canteen and puts the top back on.
“Absolutely not. No tricks today. We do this like everybody else. Promise me.”
I look around, less than not at all happy with the situation.
“Promise me.”
I turn to them.