must have been a fox den at one time,” Nancy guessed.
“Most likely, since Freddie got covered in their refuse,” Galen replied.
“I think we need to get him washed up at a gas station,” Edison chimed in. “Otherwise this car will be uninhabitable.”
Galen couldn’t resist. “Better learn how to change diapers, little brother.”
As they headed back down the mountain, they once again passed the wildlife-service signs, and then and there Galen decided his mountain refuge would forever remain a safe haven for its animal inhabitants. He would donate the land to the Commonwealth of Virginia, and it would become part of the preserve.
Cathy would like that, he mused, and the wind blowing through the open car window seemed to whisper, “Yes, Tony.”
The water-hose-improvised shower at the gas station sufficiently deodorized Freddie to allow the rest of the passengers to breathe through their noses again.
As they drove away, Galen noticed that Edison was exhibiting signs of post-traumatic anxiety letdown, which he had seen so often in new parents.
Nancy also seemed a little disconcerted, sitting in the back with the three kids, who by now were sufficiently sugar-loaded that they bounced between buzz and somnolence.
“Why don’t we salvage the day, Edison,” Galen said softly. “I know a campground and portage site along the river not too far from here. We brought the kids’ swimsuits, and you and Nancy could do a bit of canoeing—just like in the old days, eh?”
He nudged his friend gently, and Edison laughed.
“What about you? You can’t just sit in the car and pretend you’re Buddha.”
“No problem,” Galen replied. “There’s a bunch of trails along the Shenandoah. I’ll commune with nature while the rest of you get wet.”
Twenty minutes later they pulled into the campground.
“Bob, why don’t you and Galen go rent the canoe?” Nancy said, as she guided Carmelita, Freddie, and Tonio toward the bathhouse.
The two men headed to the rental desk, and Edison picked out what he called a “nice shell.” When Galen paid for the rental, Edison seemed surprised by the gesture.
“Hey, this was my idea,” Galen quipped.
They turned back toward the bathhouse and saw Nancy emerging with only two of the children in swimsuits. Tonio stood apart, still in his day clothes, looking pouty.
“He doesn’t want to go in the canoe,” Nancy said in exasperation.
Galen walked over to the boy.
“What’s wrong, Tonio?”
He lowered his eyes then looked up at Galen.
“No tengo gusto del agua.”
Galen’s Spanish was minimal, but he understood.
Strange, he understands and speaks English fluently now but reverts to his early childhood tongue when upset.
“That’s okay, Tonio. You can walk with me through the woods instead.”
He turned to Edison, who had been watching the exchange.
“Why don’t you and Nancy show the kids some of your old-style canoeing? I’ll rent a second shell. Nancy and Carmelita can go in one, and you and Freddie can take the other. You could make it a race between the guys and the gals.”
Edison opened his mouth, but before he could speak Galen had taken out his wallet and turned toward the desk, where he rented another canoe. When he rejoined his friend, he said with a feinted grumble: “This better not lead to any canoodling later on, you old goat!”
Edison grinned and winked.
Galen turned to Nancy and the children.
“Tonio and I will follow the trail along the river up to the bend that looks over the abandoned Civil War railroad crossing. We’ll act as judges to see which team gets there first. Okay?”
The quartet nodded.
Galen and Tonio headed for the trail, while Nancy and Edison slid the canoes to the edge of the river. They made sure Carmelita and Freddie’s life jackets were secured, helped the children into their respective shells, and then carefully climbed aboard.
“Nancy, let’s use that large Jackson Oak tree on the bank as the starting point. Freddie, I want you to watch how I hold the paddle and how I bring it down into the water to get the most force behind it. Carmelita, watch how your tia does the paddling. After a while, we’ll let you join in.”
Whatever trepidation the children might have felt about being on the water quickly dissipated. This was a calm, shallow stream, not a vast, raging ocean, and the pleasantness of the day captivated them all.
Memory inevitably slipped Edison and Nancy back to the first day they met—only now they sat in separate canoes. Under their controlled paddling, they moved the boats to the middle of the river and held their position.
“We’ll start on the count of three,” Nancy said.
The children shouted, in unison, “ONE, TWO, THREE!” and Nancy and Edison began energetically stroking, as the canoes shot forward, one and all laughing loudly.
“Tio Galen, are you angry that I didn’t want to go in the water?”
“No, Tonio. I know you must have a very good reason. Do you want to talk about it?”
Tonio meekly shook his head, so Galen continued walking but moving slowly enough for him to keep up.
Then Tonio stopped, and Galen stopped as well, turning to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Tio, do you love me as much as you love Freddie and Carm?”
He saw that the boy was serious.
“Of course, Tonio! Why do you ask?”
“Would you have saved me like Tio Eddie saved Freddie today?”
Galen squatted down to look him in the eye.
“Yes, Tonio. Tio Eddie, Tia Nancy, and I would have worked just as hard, maybe even harder, to save you if you had been in trouble.”
Then he reached over, swept the boy up on his shoulders, and resumed the tour of the trail. In minutes he was pointing out and naming the birds, small animals, and plants they encountered, and Tonio grew giddy at the new experiences.
Galen’s eyes misted, as he realized how much the boy’s moods were like his own, and he wondered if having a son would have been like this.
The two canoes swept forward, bows neck and neck, as they rounded one river bend then another. The water grew
