Desert Tough, page 2
Lily and I always like to sit with him while he packs. Sometimes it’s a bummer to watch him prepare to leave us, but most of the time it’s pretty cool to hear his stories. He’s told us so many little stories—things he doesn’t often talk about—and Lily and I know that even if it’s a little sad to watch him pack, it’s also a special opportunity to get to know him better. He’s told us before about the time he sat down on his camp stool and the leg broke and he fell over in front of his friends. He’s told us about the time he was on night watch and saw a shooting star. He’s told us about the time a camel spider got lodged in the printer in their tent and he had to pull it out in pieces with his multi-tool! Dad finishes packing and has to leave to join his unit as it heads out to the field. For now, we hold onto these stories and will think of him often, hoping that his training is going well and that he’ll be home on time.
When Dad’s gone, my mom tries harder to get things done at night. With school back in session tomorrow, my mom is busy preparing lunches for the next day and I wander in the kitchen to offer her my help.
“Need a hand?” I ask, picking up the plastic baggies and filling them with snacks. We work silently next to each other. I think about the lunch she’s making and about the fact that it’s for school the following day. A mental light bulb goes off and I realize it just so happens to be the date my permission form for the park ranger assembly is due. I run to my backpack and grab the form, returning to one of those looks from my mom—the ones I know are taking the place of a one-sided “discussion” about some kind of life skill I need to work on, presumably organization or responsibility right now.
“Are you excited for the assembly?” she asks, knowing that I love everything related to science and nature.
“Of course,” I tell her. “Anything that gets me out of English class sounds amazing!” She rolls her eyes, laughs, and signs my form.
“Let Liliana know it’s time for bed,” she tells me.
“Yes Ma’am,” I tell her and walk into the living room to find Lily and Radar playing Radar’s all-time favorite game—hide and seek. Lily is hiding behind furniture and Radar is finding her time and time again. Compared to his police training days, this is a piece of cake for him! In our family, he is the reigning hide and seek champion, both indoor and outdoor. Sometimes, Lily and Radar will wait inside for me to hide somewhere in the playground equipment near our house and then she’ll let him out. He can find me every time, in no time. Tonight though, the fun is over and it’s time to head to bed.
“Mom says it’s time for bed, Lily,” I tell her. We both walk back to the kitchen to give our mom a hug. I’m always struck by how similar Lily and my mom look. Besides the fact that my mom is older, they could totally pass as sisters. I smile thinking of this and reach out to hug my mom. She’s not really that tall and I’m nearly her same height now. There’s no question who the boss is, though. With my dad gone so much, she definitely runs our household.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper in her ear. Then, I turn to Radar, saying, “Let’s go outside,” and take him out one last time. Tonight is one of those nights when Radar will sleep in the hallway, keeping watch.
I climb into bed and look around wondering when this house will start to feel like home. Don’t get me wrong—my mom has done her best. Mom says that the sooner our stuff is up, the sooner it will feel like home, so she works tirelessly to get our things unpacked as quickly as she can manage when we get into a new house. This time, all of our boxes were unpacked within the first two weeks of being here.
For as long as I can remember, my room has had the same décor: wooden letters painted my favorite shade of blue spell out my name, Diego, above the head of my bed and a cross with a framed guardian angel prayer is hanging above my doorway. I also have a rack of challenge coins my dad has gifted me from each of his units on my dresser. These are the same things that decorate every room in each house we have. I’ve added a poster of my favorite football team, the Dallas Cowboys, to my closet door. I am comfortable and content as I lay down.
As I turn out the light, I see a recent photo of my dad and me playing at a beach in North Carolina on my bedside table and I say a quick prayer for him. Just because he’s “only” training doesn’t mean he can’t get hurt. I’m old enough to know that and I feel better knowing I’ve done my part to keep him safe. Feeling more at peace, I fall asleep imagining what the park ranger will talk about at the assembly tomorrow.
Chapter 3
I wake up the next morning to realize that for the first time in over a month, it’s not already 90 degrees outside. It’s finally cooling off in the mornings and evenings. Notice the commonality there? No sun. This sun is no joke, but before it rises over and as soon as it drops below the mountains, the temperatures immediately drop. Radar is appreciating the cooler temperature this morning because it means I can get back to our normal before school walk. He is so athletic that he really needs the extra physical activity to feel content. I guess that’s something he and I have in common—I find that I’m not so annoyed to sit still at school when I’ve gotten to take him on his morning walk. Our neighborhood here is set up in a one-mile loop. It’s the perfect distance—we can walk slowly and he can sniff every fire hydrant along the way or, when I don’t have as much time, it’s a short enough distance to run. Today definitely falls into the “need-to-run” category. I’m back in just enough time from our outing to grab my bag and scoot out the door. Dante’s house is just two streets over from mine and just two streets shy of the bus stop, so he’s been waiting on the corner for me each morning and we walk the last bit together.
“Hey!” he greets me as I walk up. “Why are you sweaty?”
“Just finished running the loop with my dog, Radar,” I answer.
“Nice! Have you been on the desert trails behind housing?” he asks. I shake my head no and he continues. “There are miles of trails—some are flat, some have loose sand, and some have killer hills—like straight up the side of a mountain kind of crazy hills! We should go out there sometime. My older brother, Terrence, swears that’s why he’s so fast!”
“Sure,” I reply, trying to sound more chill than I feel—this is the first time Dante’s mentioned doing anything outside of school and I hope he’s serious. Lily and I get along great, but I love playing sports and Lily is getting sick of playing catch with me. I wouldn’t consider myself a runner; I am more of a team sports kind of guy. (Translation: I don’t run more than my coach says I have to.) I guess that highlights how happy I am to be invited somewhere—I would even run up a mountain of sand on some crazy challenging trail run in the off season, with no threat from a coach! Crazy, I know. We get on the bus and the conversation quickly shifts to football. Tryouts are in a week and Dante’s hoping to compete for the quarterback position on the school’s team.
“I’ve only played flag football once, for one season,” I admit. “I have played more soccer and lacrosse.”
“It’s no big deal. You should tryout anyways,” he says. I nod, but I am not sure if my mom will go for it. She’s been worried about tackle football’s link to concussions for a while and hasn’t allowed me to play yet.
“I’ll ask her later,” I promise, but I’m dreading it. I’m afraid it will be the same answer as the last time and the time before that. The topic shifts to the assembly today and Dante says he’s also really looking forward to it.
We arrive at school and go directly to the cafeteria for the presentation. The park ranger introduces himself as Ranger Matt and tells us all that he has two college degrees: one in biology and one in education. He used to work for a zoo, but really loved the National Park Services’ mission to preserve the cultural and natural resources for the future so he changed careers. He’s been out here in the high desert for three years and has loved every second. He reminds us all that while it’s an incredible natural playground in the park, and all over this region, with boulders to climb, trails to hike, and unique plants and animals to enjoy, it can be dangerous. In fact, he tells us that Joshua Tree National Park has had to form its own search and rescue organization made up largely of local volunteers who train to respond in emergencies. The search and rescue team averages 40 rescues, varying in severity, per calendar year.
“That’s crazy!” I say quietly, turning towards Dante. He nods in agreement, eyes wide. We are both fascinated. The park ranger goes on to tell us how the majority of those rescues are because visitors to this area underestimate the terrain. Some people get lost, some have run out of supplies (namely water), and some take on hikes that are too strenuous given the high elevation. Other visitors are injured in accidents, including falls while rock climbing. He says that there are a few points he would have us remember as we enjoy the region:
Plan ahead. There is very little potable (which he explains means “drinkable”) water within the park. He encourages us to always pack more water than we think that we will need as someone actively hiking in the intense heat can easily lose 2 liters of water per hour through sweat. He teaches us that the salt we lose when we are sweating needs to be replaced as well, so not only do we need to bring water along, but we need to bring food to re-fuel, especially some salty snacks to replace what is lost as sweat. If we don’t do this, our bodies can get dehydrated and even overheat.
Beware of the wildlife in the park. They’ve all developed serious adaptations to survive the harsh realities of the climate and terrain. There are venomous animals like rattlesnakes and scorpions. They are camouflaged and are different shades of tan color so it’s pretty hard to spot them. He reminds us to watch where we place our hands and feet as we are moving throughout the desert and climbing on the rock formations. Additionally, because there is so little water available, the bees in the park can swarm any moisture they find, even from a water bottle you’re carrying or crazier still, your sweat! (I glance over to Dante with a look, equal parts impressed and horrified, that says both “no way!” and “I really hope not!” all at the same time). There are all kinds of other animals in the park. It is common to see or hear coyotes, jackrabbits, lizards of many varieties, and roadrunners. Still other animals, like the desert tortoise, the big horn sheep, or the mountain lion, successfully live in these unforgiving conditions, but are less frequently seen. Ranger Matt cautions us, “You can’t spell wildlife without ‘wild’.” Stay alert, give the animals space, avoid feeding them and you should have little trouble.
Hike/climb with a friend. Let someone know your plans to hike or rock climb, where you are going, and when you expect to be back so that if you aren’t, the searching and rescuing can commence. There is very poor cell phone reception in the park which means very slim chances that you could call for help if you were to need it. With that in mind, it’s always wise to have a first aid kit—even if you aren’t the person who needs it. You never know when you might happen upon someone who needs assistance.
And last, but certainly not least, Ranger Matt cautions us about rain. He says it so deadpan that I look around the room to see if anyone else thinks he’s joking. Rain? Is this guy for real? Coming from Camp Lejeune, North Carolina where we got over 50 inches of rain a year, this sounds like a silly warning, but he launches into this serious discussion about the gravity of flash floods. He explains that the ground out here isn’t absorbent and there is so much water dropped so quickly that it rushes downhill through all of the sandy washes we see. Many of the local roads are running directly through these washes. Roads can flood or even be washed out if the flowing water is strong enough. He recommends we check the weather each time before going out and that we avoid canyons or washes if there is any sign of rain.
* * *
I leave the assembly with a whole new appreciation for the surrounding area. As soon as I stepped out of our car the day we arrived, I knew the heat was a threat, but the wide, open picturesque landscape with all of the sand and rocky areas has been deceptively tame looking. I commit Ranger Matt’s informative warnings to memory and make an internal vow to tell everything I’ve learned to Mom and Lily at dinner tonight. I want all of us to be safe. I think of Dad off training and hope like crazy someone’s told him all of this.
Chapter 4
The rest of the day after the assembly passes without event and before I know it, the bus is dropping Dante and me off in our neighborhood.
“After I finish my homework, my sister and I will probably take Radar out later,” I tell Dante. “If you want, I could pass by and you could meet him.”
“Sure! I definitely want to meet the famous Radar,” he says, teasing me. He’s told me before that I talk about my dog a lot. “I should be done with my homework in about an hour, but I’ll probably need to bring my little brother, Jayden, so my mom can make dinner. My dad has been working pretty late recently.”
“No worries,” I tell him. “Radar loves little kids!” We go our separate ways, having agreed to meet up later that afternoon. I turn down our street and see my mom out front talking to a neighbor. I’m still trying match the correct neighbor to the correct house. It takes a bit of time to get all of the names in a new neighborhood straight, but so far everyone’s been really friendly. My mom’s schedule is filling up again and I know that a busy mom is a happy mom.
My mom hasn’t worked in many years and always jokes that she can’t because she is a professional volunteer. Seriously, though, she’d be a millionaire if she got a penny for every minute of her time spent volunteering. I don’t even think she realizes how much she does because so much of it just comes naturally. She genuinely wants to be involved with my dad’s unit, in Lily and my classrooms, and in the local community. In fact, because it’s important to her, our family chooses some way to give back to the local area in every place we live. Here, she’s already arranged for us to start volunteering at the local food pantry. My mom has planned for us to go next week for the first time. I’m not sure what exactly it entails, but I’m guessing I’ll find out soon. I’m happy to help and know that this will just be our regularly scheduled volunteer role.
In reality, though, we are always helping in all kinds of different ways. One way my mom helps is by sharing her delicious culinary skills. My mom is a fantastic cook and loves to make meals for new moms. She is always providing baked goods for the single Marines, despite my dad playfully scolding her. He maintains the Marines shouldn’t eat junk because they need to stay in fighting shape, but his grumbling hasn’t stopped her yet. She just laughs and keeps right on baking! She always lets Lily and me help her when she’s baking and we love it just as much. It’s nice to spend time with her, support her in her work, and most importantly, sample all of her contributions. I can’t imagine it will be long before we’ll be bagging some sort of treat for Dad’s Marines. Maybe when Dad comes out of the field, I think hopefully.
Considering this, I walk up and overhear my mom ask where someone lives. It’s a family I haven’t heard of and I hear the neighbor (who I’m pretty confident lives three doors down), tell my mom that they are on the other side of base. My mom tells this neighbor (I am less confident her name is Ms. Jess) that she’d be happy to pitch in a meal. I smile at my mom and know that she’s in her element. Gambling a bit, I speak up saying,
“Hi, Ms. Jess.” She greets me warmly. Whew, thankfully I got her name right! I continue and give my mom a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m going in to grab a snack, Mom,” I let her know. “Nice to see you,” I say, directing this comment to Ms. Jess as I turn to head inside. Radar comes running up to greet me. I kneel down, give him a hug, and grab him a treat. I get myself a snack and settle in to get through my homework.
A little over an hour later, Lily is home and we are both finally finished with our work. Mom’s run out to the commissary to pick up a few ingredients she needs to make the meal I heard her volunteer for. Apparently, the conversation I overheard her having with Ms. Jess was my mom volunteering to take the first of a series of meals to a family on the other side of base who was in a car accident. Like I said, she’s a great cook and loves to help out. Lily and I give her a quick call on her cell phone to let her know that we are done with our school work and heading out to take Radar for his walk. The evening walk is always less of an exercise walk and more of a play session. We get out dog toys, a jar of peanut butter, and a spoon. If Radar can’t search for people, his next favorite thing to search out is peanut butter, so much so that he has his own jar, complete with his name written on the lid so that there is no confusion. We put a little smear inside the toys we plan to hide and Lily grabs a couple of the peanut butter treats my mom bakes for Radar. The peanut butter in his toy is mainly for scenting, but he is rewarded with one of the treats when he finds the toy. We have hidden toys up high, down low, and even inside of things—he has a perfect record. That doesn’t stop us from trying to stump him.
Lily and I swing by Dante’s street to link up with Dante and Jayden. Radar is beyond excited to make two new friends and together we all make our way to the playground. Radar starts to pace as soon as we arrive. He knows what we are going to do and he is eager to start. In all of my chatter about Radar, I’ve filled Dante in on Radar’s past as a police academy dropout and I can tell Dante wants to see Radar in action. Dante hides behind a tree and Radar finds him right away. Lily and I exchange an amused look.
