1. Winter Dogs
When I got to the shower house, an old man came out. It was a hot day. He took several small steps toward the pop machine near the door where Coke and Pepsi and Dr. Pepper logos beckoned from brightly lit buttons which he studied carefully, pushing one and then another with no result.
By the time he turned around, I had reached the top of the hill with Izzy on a leash. He looked down at her for a moment and then looked up.
“Small dog,” he said.
“She is,” I said and hooked her leash to a post.
“Squirrel dog,” he said.
“She is,” I said, not committing myself to acknowledging whether he was commenting on her diminutive appearance or on how he imagined she would spend her days.
“Do you have dogs?”
“Nine,” he said. “Seven outdoor and two winter dogs. What’s her name?”
“Izzy,” I said. “And I’m David.” I reached out to shake his hand.
“Danny,” he said, reaching back.
We shook hands, and just then a young man came out of the shower house, turned to the pop machine, and bought a can of Pepsi.
“Here’s a can for you, gramps,” he said. “Let’s go back.”
They turned to walk down the far side of the hill.
“Good to meet you Danny,” I said to the old man.
“Good to meet you David,” he said and slowly followed his grandson back to their campsite.
2. Coal Barge
We were heading back to Eureka Campground after a day of exploring the Land Between the Lakes when we drove over a bridge over a canal. There were some coal barges approaching with a tugboat at the rear churning the water. They were moving slowly toward us.
“Look, coal barges!” I said to Trudy.
“Wow!” she said, our exclamations betraying the fact that a coal barge is a remarkable sight for the two of us.
On the far side of the bridge, we passed a sign: Canal Overlook. I quickly braked and turned left, surprising my passenger who grabbed onto our dear dog so that she might not end up on the floor boards.
We parked near some benches and a set of stairs that led down to the water. Three of the four barges had passed, leaving one more and the tugboat.
A man was sitting on one of the benches. He turned to watch us as we hopped out of the car and rushed over for the barge-passing spectacle.
“We just made it!” I said to him. He smiled.
I took Izzy down to the water to watch the tugboat churn by. Trudy chatted with Donny at the top of the stairs. We waved at the barge. The captain tooted his horn. Izzy sniffed at the water as the waves washed against the rocks.
At the top of the stairs, Donny told Trudy that he sometimes sits there for a while before his shift at a nearby quarry. Trudy talked to him about rocks. I asked about the gas prices. He acknowledged that the prices were high and that they seemed to go up and down for no obvious reason.
“You remember, don’t you,” he said, “that it was Bill Clinton who did that.”
We changed the subject, choosing to talk about our travels and his work. Donny was a pleasant man and easy to talk to, yet the conversation somehow converged back to him saying “If something doesn’t happen this election, we’re in big trouble.” We had an idea about what he was referring to. We changed the subject again.
We chatted some more until Donny looked at his watch and said that it was time for him to go to work. We said goodbye.
3. Postscript
In the interest of full disclosure…
- When I told Trudy about the conversation with Danny by the shower house, I confessed to her that he probably said wiener dogs but that it sure sounded like winter at the time. “Yes, David,” he said wiener dogs.
- The man at the top of the canal overlook wasn’t Donny. We didn’t actually learn his name. Excuse my artistic license in choosing an arbitrary but alliterative one.