A fast-moving but not too deep stream about fifteen feet across runs parallel to a calm, deep, medium-sized river. Our family is camping there with our friends Curt and Theresa and their kids Emily and Ben, who are the same ages as our Vixie and Luke. Right now I’m the only adult in the area; I haven’t seen my husband Peter, Curt or Theresa yet and don’t know where they are. This is not worrisome. The kids and I decide to float up (yes, up) the stream in inner tubes tomorrow morning.
And now it’s tomorrow morning. Emily starts first, while Vixie and I are working with something in the camp. Out of the corner of my eye I see Emily enter the water. “Let’s go over and watch how the stream is running,” I say to Vixie. I want to see if the ripples break over Emily’s face as she floats upstream against them. I’m a little worried that if they do she’ll get upset and start to cry. When we get to the bank, however, it’s Ben who’s on the inner tube. He has only drifted upstream about forty feet when his progress is halted by a four-foot rise in the riverbed. If the stream were any lower this would be a small waterfall. As it is, the water flows smoothly over the ledge and continues downstream. This wasn’t here yesterday; the water level must have dropped overnight. What will we do now? I peer over the earthen dike that separates the stream from the river. We could float on the river instead–but even though it moves much more slowly than the stream, it’s so…deep.
Ben clambers out of his stalled tube and is suddenly standing on the ledge. He dives. I rush toward him–the water is too shallow for diving here; I can see the rocks on the bottom–but by the time I reach him he’s already in. He has bumped his head on a good-sized rock, but not too hard. I’m so relieved! I scold him on behalf of his parents.
Now Vixie and Emily are walking across the parking lot of a small grocery store. I see them from a sidewalk that runs down a dirt embankment past the store, so I’m ahead of and slightly below them. Vixie wears a pink knit belly shirt with new pink hip huggers. I think this is a good look for her, and am proud she’s put it together.
Inside the store now. I’ve given Ben free rein with the shopping cart, and he zooms around the corner of one aisle with the basket crammed full. Curt, Theresa and Peter are with me at this point, and we grin as he approaches us with his load of marshmallows, bread, cookies and three different bottles of wine. I laugh and ask him, “Can we compromise a little, here?” I grab one of the bottles of wine–a two-liter red that he’s jammed upside down into the cart–and walk toward the wine aisle to return it to the shelf. As I go, I glance at the price sticker. $52.65! Well (I think to myself), at least Ben has good taste!
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