Off-Map Hearts, page 12
“Tired of this yet?” he asked, miles from the small town and rumbling past the soaring mesas, enormous turquoise skies, and burnt sienna ground of the New Mexican desert.
Usually the landscape alone thrilled him, and coupled with being on the cusp of exploring somewhere new should have him bouncing in his seat, but at the moment he was pensive. About what was bringing him to New York. About what awaited Graden to have to deal with. Over what felt different about this particular juncture in this particular trip.
“Tired of what exactly?”
Cole gestured to encompass the car interior and then beyond the windshield. “Miles driven, miles to go, the endless in and out of the car, living lean out of a few bags. It’s not for everyone.”
“What made you ask me now? Here on the eve of my first shenanigans venture.”
“I don’t know. I think….” Cole tried to process what he meant. He wasn’t even certain. “To this point we weren’t anywhere you couldn’t ditch and jump on a plane and be done with this—and me—once you got fed up. People who want to be on road trips get sick of the grind.”
“I’m doing okay.”
“That’s good. But we’re still far from home.”
“I’m very aware of that.” Graden paused. “As a positive.”
“Cool.” Cole drummed his fingers.
“Doesn’t sound it. But I really am doing okay. Wait, are you tired? You’ve done all the driving.”
“Nope. I find driving relaxing—I enjoy it.” Cole could leave it there, but that wasn’t what he was getting at. “I think it was watching that little town disappear in the rearview mirror as we headed deeper into remoteness. This is sort of a point of no return.”
“Ominous.” Graden exhaled. “So, did you really go in there for snacks, or were you hoping they had a deal on shovels?”
Cole snorted. “Just got me wondering. I usually do this alone, and I’m never afraid or bothered by heading into the relatively unknown, but….” He ran out of what he was trying to say and shook his head. “It felt…. Forget it. I’m not explaining it well.”
“Momentous. Or melding, like together in purpose. Either way, far better than ominous.” Graden let the atlas flop forward. “Crossing the Mojave was remote, but you went for that on your own knowing where the road ended, so it probably seemed different. We’re in it together now, decided. Us and this trusty Jeep, no shortcuts, no takebacks.”
“That’s it, that’s what I meant.” Cole grunted. “I was not articulating that well.”
“You got me to the general area. And I agree.” Graden smiled and then sat forward to peer out the windshield. “It’s actually been more manageable than I ever imagined. America always seemed like this enormous expanse of nowheresville with huge question marks painted on it between me and Los Angeles, but after only a few hours in the car each day, we’re someplace well along our route, with towns and services and everything. For a city-only kid, that’s pretty mind-blowing.”
“The Mojave was all me,” Cole said with uncharacteristic chagrin. “And there’s no airport at today’s destination.”
“I’m not mad.” Graden shifted to face him. “So, the short answer is no. The broader answer is I’m liking it.” He chuckled. “I’m not about to sell everything I own and go live off the grid or whatever, but watching so much of the world go by and stopping at roadside weirdness and natural wonders and kitsch shops has been amazing. And illuminating. The remoteness is scary but exhilarating. And we’re provisioned and have plans and are about to see continuing amazingness, first time for both of us, and I’m not tired of any of it.”
“That’s a relief. Genuinely.”
“And not like we’re going off the map. That little town back there was ordinary as it gets, just people living their everyday lives.” Graden reached over and squeezed Cole’s shoulder. “I’m good, and we’ll be fine.”
Cole blinked and didn’t react overly. His brain ran the brief feel of Graden’s hand initiating a touch between them on a loop. He rolled his shoulder because it itched and burned. Maybe not off the map, but Cole was fast careening into uncharted territory.
No other plumes of dust in the distance indicated anyone else around, and about a half hour later they passed through the entrance to Chaco and made for the visitor center. The parking lot was empty save for a park vehicle.
“Heya,” the ranger called as he emerged from a back office. He was stout, built like a barrel, with a shock of white hair, gray walrus mustache, and keen brown eyes. “Ranger Mike, at your service. Nice to see someone. Where’d you come in from?”
“New York City by way of Death Valley, Joshua Tree, and the Grand Canyon,” Cole said in approach to the welcome desk.
“That’s quite a loop you boys are making. Enjoying it?”
“Oh, yes sir.” Graden smiled.
Cole smiled because of that.
“Ahh,” Ranger Mike drew out with satisfaction. “A passporter.” He swiveled and set the stamp pad and stamper in front of Graden. “Good timing on your part. We might not be weather friendly in another couple days.”
“So my cruise director informed me, which is why we’re here now and going to Arches later.” Cole clapped Graden on the back and admired the Chaco Canyon stamp.
Ranger Mike tapped his head. “Smart. Pays to be nimble out here. You’re gonna like Chaco just as much—Arches too.”
“I have this.” Graden had his park pass at the ready.
“Passporter and an annual pass holder? You boys mean business. I like it.” Ranger Mike took the pass, rang them up, and handed back a receipt and two stickers.
Cole watched Graden peel one and carefully put it in his planner, and a deep well of affection warmed his insides, belly and heart and down to his toes.
“So, can I help you with your visit?”
“Definitely,” Cole said and leaned on the counter next to Graden. He always said no before and reveled in what seemed like independence, but he’d started to learn better. That and Graden would want help and Cole was very into indulging that.
“Have either of you been here before? No? Okay, then, let’s get some suggestions together.” Ranger Mike opened a map and grabbed a marker and started marking it up. “We’re here, this is the main road that takes you to the archaeological sites, and these are the can’t-miss I recommend. How much time do you have?”
Cole glanced at the clock. “Not nearly enough,” he said with a laugh.
“How much could we have?” Graden asked. “I read on the website you close earlier this time of year.”
“That is correct. We’re on winter hours ’nother couple of months.” Ranger Mike pressed his fingertips to the counter. “This here center is open until four, and access to the sites close at five. There’s a gate and it means business, so don’t go thinking you can slip past.”
“And how long do you think all this”—Graden circled the marked-up map with a hand—“will take?”
“Double the hours you have. At least.” He pushed the map toward Graden. “But there’s plenty to see at the main site, the petroglyphs, and have a drive.”
Graden opened his planner and tapped his pen to a page as he chewed on his lower lip.
Cole stared at Graden until he realized he was staring.
“I also read the campground is open all year.” Graden held his pen to a neatly written line. “Are there any spots available?”
At that, Cole’s stare plastered to Graden again.
Ranger Mike grinned. “Every single one.” He raised a bushy eyebrow. “You can’t just park there and sleep, mind. It gets cold this time of year—real cold—and services are limited.”
Cole put his hip against the counter. This kind of planning was his wheelhouse, and he found he enjoyed their building camaraderie with Ranger Mike. “We got a Jeep and it’s all kitted out. Down sleeping bag, wool blankets, plenty comfy there. And we have food, some quick logs, emergency supplies. I don’t think we’re missing what we’d need, but I’d be happy for any advice.”
“The bathrooms have toilets and running water—no showers. And we ask you take your trash with you in winter.”
“Can do.”
“For sure prepared.” Ranger Mike nodded approvingly. “I’d say sounds like you’re in good shape.”
Cole nodded back in mutual recognition of the importance of these things.
“When’s checkout?” Graden looked up from the map.
“Visitor center opens at eight, dawn is well ahead of that. And considering if you decide to take a spot you’ll be the only ones there, I’m not going to be too worried about it.” Ranger Mike got a different large tear-away pad and dropped it in front of them. “This is the camping area, these are the bathrooms, and all of these boxes the sites. When you get there tonight, just take your pick. Trailheads lead away from here and here, and if you want, you can scoot to this end and be overlooked by a cliff dwelling.” He circled several squares and then looked from Graden to Cole. “It’s fifteen bucks for the night—I’ll leave you to decide.”
“Camping?” Cole pulled Graden aside a step. “Talk about a shenanigans leap.”
“I want to see everything. I want you to see everything. And I don’t want to be tempted out of doing that because we left after a few hours today and have to turn around to get the rest.”
“It’ll be cold.”
“I’ll wear your hat.”
“The sleep mat is not soft.”
“I’ll survive a night.”
Cole wasn’t sure he would. The thought of Graden tucked up beside him under the stars, virtually alone in the world, made him ache all over.
Graden frowned. “Do you not want to camp?”
“I certainly want to camp. I’m making sure you really do.”
“I might as well try. Especially since it’s an hour plus drive to a hotel. And there’s so much to do here—here for our shared first on a trip of firsts—and we want to do everything, right?”
“Very much everything,” Cole said with a lot of stray ideas flitting to mind. He bit his tongue.
“Cool. Then we’ll camp. You have all the stuff and knowhow, and I can manage sleeping not buried in pillows for a few hours. A plan?”
“An excellent plan.” Cole dug in the cargo pocket of one pant leg and handed Ranger Mike a twenty. “Can the change go to the park?”
“Absolutely.” Ranger Mike rang it up and put a five in the plexiglass box at the far end of the counter. “Every bit makes a difference. Not the easiest living, but thanks to the parks system, we make out. There’s other pueblos out here too, if you’ve got a mind and time to see them.”
Cole parsed that to mean the other pueblo sites weren’t so lucky in visitors and revenue. For no good reason he filed that to the same place as the non-restaurant serving amazing mutton and corn.
“Right, then.” Ranger Mike came around the welcome desk. “Want to start with the movie?”
“Absolutely,” Cole echoed.
“This way. And I think you’ll want this.”
Cole took the brochure Ranger Mike handed him and gave it to Graden.
“You’re a designated dark skies area, aren’t you?” Graden opened the star chart as they walked the short distance to the small auditorium.
“Yup. And proud of our work to ensure it stays that.”
Cole jostled and crowded Graden as they sat as if rushing to beat other viewers to prime seating. Graden rolled his eyes and elbowed Cole but didn’t move from being pressed close, so Cole very casually draped his arm on the back of Graden’s chair.
Ranger Mike reached into a small cabinet and got a remote. “If after this you have any other questions, let me know. I’ll be in the back, but feel free to gimmie a shout.” He speared them with a look. “And have a great visit, but keep safety in mind.”
Graden and Cole said “Yes, sir” in unison. Ranger Mike grunted, hit a button on the remote, and the movie started. It was dorky and dated and Cole enjoyed watching it almost as much as giving the museum and interpretative displays his full attention. Which paled next to watching Graden’s full attention on everything, but who was counting.
They didn’t stick together to browse but instead drifted from thing to thing, calling the other back to check if they’d seen something of specific interest to them or urging the other to hurry to see something else.
He exited into the lobby, surprised to find Graden waiting on him.
“Where to?” he asked.
Graden held up the map. “I’m thinking we can hit the big stuff just off the loop road and do a hike this evening to the rock art from the campground. Tomorrow we can start with a walk and see whatever else?”
“I like it.” Cole held the door open and sketched a wave at Ranger Mike lurking in the open back office door.
The plan worked well—of course it did—and since they were in no rush, he crept the Jeep along so they didn’t miss any details or overlooks, and they ambled the short trails and around the pueblo ruins as he took tons of pictures and Graden read info from the brochure.
Cole picked between rocks and took the narrow path into the pueblo Graden stood within. Circular walls joined with right angles, and he rebuilt them in his imagination, brick by brick, adding height and shape to visualize it in its time.
Graden stopped talking midsentence. “Are you bored of this yet?”
“No,” Cole said, smitten with Graden, pink-cheeked in his hat and hoodie and reading him every last fact and detail about everything. “Keep going, I’m listening.”
Graden blushed darker, and the corners of his mouth tipped up as he finished the paragraph. “I can see why they built here. What a view, and the wash right there but hardly the risk of getting flooded.” He turned the brochure to Cole and tapped an artist’s recreation of the pueblo. “According to all the info anywhere, this is the most important site in the whole park.”
“A must for all visitors,” Cole repeated what he’d read in the museum. “And here we are.”
“Yes.” Graden smiled. “I’m trying to picture what it was like—how tall relative to me, bustling with people. Impressive but secure.”
“Also just their home. Doing whatever they did, living their lives.” Cole circled in place. “I could handle this being home.”
“Yeah, I don’t know.” Graden pulled a face. “We’ll see how my foray into camping goes.”
The sun was tipped against the horizon as they left the pueblos and headed toward the campground.
“Keep going, past that turn. Parking for the trail should be just up on the right.”
It was. Cole grabbed his pack and brought Graden a snack and some water.
“Trail, art, and then?”
“To the overlook for the sunset,” Graden said as he checked his watch. “We should make both.”
They did.
Afterward, Cole backed the Jeep in and opened the hatch.
“You really are an organizing wonder,” he said as Graden lowered to sit. He wanted Graden to sit so he could flop in too close without looking calculated. “Even the sun got with the program.”
He leaned into the cab, snagged a blanket, and caught Graden’s gaze on the expanse of skin revealed when his shirt rode up. Cole pretended not to notice and fought to suppress a grin.
Graden stared hard into the distance and nodded a brief thanks as Cole wrapped him in the blanket.
Cole left his hand on the rise of Graden’s shoulder.
The sun shot the sky through with dark yellow and turned the buttes and mesas into stark black cutout silhouettes. Pink made a brief appearance, and then blue began to descend, chasing the sun past the rim of the earth and bringing with it the inky vault of the heavens.
Graden leaned into him, and he opened his chest so Graden shifted nearer but didn’t pull, and they exhaled together at the mass of stars beginning to show.
“Much as I loathe to break the mood, we should pick a campsite before all the light is gone. Won’t take long, then we can get back to stargazing.” Cole should have insisted they figure out camp and then see the sunset, but it wasn’t that inconvenient and the elements not so forbidding that they’d be in trouble.
“’kay,” Graden breathed, still absorbed in the view.
“C’mon,” Cole said and tugged Graden along. “What spot have you picked out for us?” he asked as they entered the campground.
“Twenty-five.” Graden motioned him on. “Past almost everything at the end of the loop.”
“On it.” Cole coasted through the empty area and backed into their site and then hopped out.
Graden joined him at the back of the Jeep. “What can I do?”
“Take all that stuff and put it in the front seats.”
Cole unloaded his gear and arrayed it on the parking pad, efficiently sorted what he’d need, and began to set up as Graden moved the few loads. He tossed one of the logs in the fire grate and started it, adding another and some freebie newspapers he’d grabbed on their various stops. A real fire was always better, but this would do, and he’d gotten enough logs to last the few hours he figured they’d want to be exposed as the temperatures dropped.
“Lower the middle seats, would you?” Cole asked as he unfolded the sleep mat, bag, and blankets. He laid one blanket down, slapped the sleep mat on it, and arranged the unzipped sleeping bag and the rest of the blankets. A folded fleece pullover and sweatshirt would be their pillows.
He hung an electric lantern from a hook, turned it on its dimmest setting, and stepped back.
“And voilà.”
“Oh, I thought….” Graden grimaced and bit his lip.
Cole couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or disdain, and he shouldn’t let that annoy or bother him, but it annoyed and bothered him.
“What?”
Graden shook his head. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter. What else can I help with?”
“No, tell me.” Cole squared to Graden, hands on hips, and clenched his jaw. It never mattered to him what people thought of his rig, but this did. Graden passing judgment did.
“Don’t laugh, but I’ve always pictured you in a little tent with a flap opening, a perfect crossed logs fire in front, and a perfect puff of smoke overhead.” Graden made an A-frame with his hands and held it in front of his face. “You know?”
