Greg acknowledged the next to last day of August 1966 by pulling another board from the water control structure at the second pond. That would bring it close to drying up in the next couple of weeks, but he didn't see that he had a choice. Daytime temperatures were only reaching the low 80s, but there was still no rain. He couldn't find an August weather summary in the Twin Falls paper, but the Pocatello report probably wouldn't have been much different. Rainfall there had amounted to only 0.02" - coming in only two thunderstorms! - the lowest August rainfall since 1958. The temperatures had actually been a little cooler than the long-term average, but warmer than in 1964 and 1965.
To further remind him that it was still summer, a range fire south of Twin Falls had burned through 70,000 acres, and had come within 15 miles of the town. It was thought that some 400 head of cattle and 600 head of sheep had perished in the fire, which had moved too quickly to evacuate the herds. That was unusual, and pretty devastating for the ranchers involved. A brief rain on September 1 - amounting to almost two-tenths of an inch at Rupert - helped the firefighters get the fire under control.
While Greg was out manipulating water, he finished setting up the duck traps. It was less than two weeks until he'd be taking Vic and Mandy to school, but he could get a start on trapping. And, of course, it would be more fun with Vic here to work with him.
Tim had some interesting news to share. "Rusty's soldiering days are over."
"That doesn't sound good. What happened?"
"I don't have all the details, yet. He barely made it onto the battlefield before he had some kind of accident to his leg. He's in a hospital in Germany now, but it doesn't sound like a really bad problem. He's probably going to have enough of a limp to disqualify him from battle, but nothing worse than that."
"How does he feel about it?"
"I don't know. We haven't been able to talk direct to him, yet. We're just getting word from various sources. It does sound like he could be home within a month or so. If that's true, and if his injury is really that minor, it means I could probably work the sugar campaign, while he helps our folks. With the campaign and my winter caretaker salary, we could have a pretty good bank account, again, by spring."
Greg relayed the news to Chuck, and to Vic. "I wonder how Rusty is taking it," Vic mused. "He really wanted to go. I hope it is as minor as Tim thinks. That will make all the difference."
There were no ducks in either trap on Thursday night, but the rain that day had left enough clouds around to produce a glorious sunset. Vic and Greg stayed out on the refuge until the last tinges of color had disappeared into the night sky. Ducks moved around in the darkness near them, coyotes treated them to a couple of minor choruses, and jack rabbits moved along the road ahead of them as they drove back to headquarters. Pretty nice.
Greg went to the traps by himself early Friday morning. One was empty, the other had two pintails, which he quickly banded and released. Vic was just getting out of bed when he reappeared.
"How did it feel to sleep in?"
"It felt lovely. I wasn't even that tired. It just seemed nice, for a change. Did you get any birds?"
"Just two, but they were pintails, which is kind of interesting. The pintails usually move through here pretty quickly in the fall, and aren't around at all by hunting season. We only caught a few last year."
He made them a ham and cheese omelet. After they were finished, he settled on the couch, and motioned for her to join him. She looked at him for a moment, trying to determine his intent, then sat beside him.
"This is a work day, Gregory. Shouldn't you be working?"
"I have been working. I've already put in a couple hours banding ducks. Now, I am taking comp time. I wanted to read you something." He picked up a small book. "Love's Philosophy, by Shelley," he began.
The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?—
See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?
He put the book aside. "What do you think?"
She looked at him a little oddly. "That's a very nice poem. I'm not sure why you're reading it to me, now. It seems like the poet is suffering from not enough love - or not enough sex - in his life. Surely, you're not feeling deprived in those areas?"
"No, no, definitely not. Not yet, anyway. But as Oliver Twist might put it, there is always room for more, please."
"You would like more of what you've been getting from me?"
"Couldn't hurt."
"I guess I need to see the poem. Give me the book."
He did, and she spent some time reading. "Well, he paints some pretty word pictures, and his meaning seems pretty clear - quite clear, actually. But what I know about poets is that they seldom come right out and say what they want to say - kind of like you, Gregory, on regular occasions. What seems clear and obvious at first glance may actually be symbolism for something else entirely different. This may actually have nothing to do with love or kissing. You see what I mean?"
"No, I'm not sure that I do."
"Well, I'm just saying that I need to really study the poem - look at all the words and thoughts in context, and really be sure that the poet and I are on the same page, so to speak."
"And then what?"
"I can't really say, can I, until I'm sure I know what the poet is talking about. So, thank you for sharing. I'll get back to you."
"You'll get back to me?"
"Of course. Just be patient. You can't rush these things."
He hesitated. "Do you think you can get back to me by this evening?"
"Why this evening?"
"Well, my lovely wife, by my reckoning, tonight is the last time in the foreseeable future that you and I will be utterly, entirely alone together, to do with one another whatever we please. I just thought that, if the poem seemed to conjure up any particular feelings or images, it might be a good time to act on them."
"So, this wasn't supposed to be like a poetry club, where we read the poem, and then talk about the author, and what he might have been getting at with the words and phrases that he used?"
"No, that was not my intent, at all."
"Hmm. Well, I guess I'll have to rethink this a little bit. I'll get back to you. You should go to work, now."
"Vic!"
***
Greg was not feeling happy. Vic had seemed a little distant all day, and he couldn't put his finger on exactly what was worrying him - or her. He didn't ask. When he suggested they check the duck traps together, she declined. She said she had something she needed to do. He made the trip by himself, found both traps empty, which made him feel even more frustrated. He decided that there would be enough confusion over the next few days - with Mandy at the refuge, and all of them getting ready to go to Pocatello - that he opened the traps so that nothing would get caught by mistake. By the time he got back to headquarters, he found he was feeling almost angry.
The house was silent, and seemed darker than usual. Suddenly, he was more worried than upset. He made his way to the kitchen, and there found two candles burning on the table, with two glasses of wine near them. Behind the table, in the flickering light of the candles, he perceived a marvelous creature - an angel? - clad in a filmy, billowy sea-green negligee.
"I finished reviewing the poem," said the angel. Suddenly, he was neither angry nor concerned.
Greg and the angel carried the wine glasses to the couch, where they spent some time finishing the content in cozy companionship. Later, they retired to the bedroom, where they spent several hours parsing and analyzing the Shelley poem, making certain that they fully understood its content.
In the morning, they took a little time to review their conclusions.
Saturday was Mandy's last work day. They picked her up in the evening, ate pizza, and went to the movies. They saw "Arabesque," a spy-comedy with Gregory Peck and Sophia Loren. It was "pretty good," they all though.
Sunday, they had a strategy meeting. "Okay," Greg began, "Tomorrow is Labor Day, with a barbecue at the Lewis ranch. I assume we are going?"
"We should," said Vic. "It's fun, and we need to eat, anyway." Mandy agreed.
"Okay, the next positive commitment is Saturday morning, when Mandy takes the American College Test at Pocatello. After that, it's some sort of Mandy business every day through the week. You, Vic, and Nancy, don't have any specific commitments until about Wednesday, but I assume you and Mandy will stay together?"
"Sure. I can show her around campus, and help her with her paperwork. I'll take some books with me to read when I have some non-busy time. I assume the library will be open, and there are a few things I want to do there. It'll be all right."
"The newspaper schedule says that the dorms aren't open until Saturday afternoon. If that's true, we'll need to make a motel reservation for Friday night. Since it's a time when a lot of parents may be staying in the area, we better make the reservation today.
"One other thing we could do. I need to spend a little time at the other refuge, and your parents would love to see the two of you before you get all embroiled in school work. We could leave here Thursday morning, drive up to the refuge and stay overnight with your folks. I could do a little work, and you two could visit, and then we could drive down to Pocatello to the motel on Friday night. It makes for a busy week, but it's certainly doable, if you want to."
Vic looked at Mandy, who nodded. "We both say yes. That gets a lot of stuff done, easily."
"Let's plan it that way, then."
***
The Labor Day barbecue was enjoyable, and they had a chance to visit with Tim and Rae. There was no additional word on Rusty. Because of the drought, it was another year without fireworks, but everybody still had a good time. The drought, of course, was the main topic of conversation, along with the outlook for the sugar campaign. Sugar beet processing was expected to begin about October 12.
Back at the refuge, all three decided they weren't up to doing any packing that night. Mandy took a book into her bedroom. Vic and Greg landed in their usual spots on the sofa.
"Have you thought about getting a TV, Greg?"
"Not really. We don't watch that much."
"You don't now, but I wonder about November, when you don't have Daddy, or me, or even a painful checker game to amuse you. I think you might be ready to hear some other voices, even if just TV voices."
"Yeah, you may be right, but I think even with people buying mostly color TVs now, that a portable black-and-white probably goes for $75, or so. That seems an awful lot, just for a little company."
"Are they really that much?"
"I think so. I haven't tried to find the cheapest, but the ads I see in the papers have them at $80, $90 and $100."
"Wow. I didn't realize."
"There is one possibility. The guys have a TV over in the bunkhouse. Rusty said the reception was 'rotten,' or some such word, but I never checked it out. You always had pretty good reception here. I should bring that set over, see how bad it is, then see if maybe I can rig up some better type of antenna.
"It would be nice to have a TV, as you say, but I’d hate the expense - especially since we still need to buy furniture for the Idaho Falls house next month."
Greg made several trips out onto the refuge in the next couple of days, but decided to leave all the water control the same until his return. Vic and Mandy packed, but there wasn't a lot to do. Their whole lives fit into a couple of suitcases. As Vic was going through boxes, she found a few personal items to take along to make the dorm seem a little homier, but there wasn't much. This wasn't "home," anymore. Vic would presumably be back in the spring. Mandy's time there might be over, forever.
Greg took a little time to thumb through the recent newspapers. He pointed out to Vic a story about the Senate proposing to bring many American servicemen home from Europe, where they had been serving under various agreements with NATO. One of Vic's recommendations in her "letter to the editor" had been to use these trained people in Viet Nam, before sending new recruits.
Of the senators willing to go on record, 48 were in favor and 17 were opposed. LBJ was opposed because he felt it would interfere with some of our other negotiations with NATO. Like everything else involving Viet Nam, it seemed unlikely anything would happen, but it was "nice" that somebody was at least thinking about it!
The other item was one he had already heard on the radio, and that he and Tim had talked about. In the past few days, there had been five separate small fires in the Burley-Shoshone area, all caused by lightning strikes. They were all south of the river, and all were under control now, but it was another reminder that it was still definitely "fire season."
Thursday morning, they left early, ate breakfast and visited at the diner, then drove on to Idaho Falls. Greg had taken one of the government trucks because it was a "business trip" for him. He noted it was about a two and a half hour trip.
Mandy commented on how similar refuge headquarters looked to Magic Valley - courtesy, of course, of the Civilian Conservation Corps building both. The Anderson women visited, while Chuck and Greg transacted a little refuge business with Donna and Dan. Greg also met the two maintenance men, George Ortega and Don Vega. Like Tim, they were about to leave for the fall and winter for other work, and would return to the refuge in the spring.
They had a good family visit Thursday night (Greg didn't have to play checkers). There was only one unoccupied bed, but Vic and Greg managed to squeeze onto that. Mandy took the couch, and they all spent reasonably comfortable nights.
Friday morning, Mandy and Vic visited with their mother, while Dan and Chuck gave Greg his first in-depth tour of the refuge. Vic and Greg had driven through the refuge with John O'Brien, but this was Greg's introduction to management details. Dan and Jean had lunch with the Andersons, then Greg and his two charges headed back to Pocatello for the night.
There was an early football game on television (Jets and Dolphins), but it was almost over by the time they got back from dinner (pizza), so Greg didn't bother to watch the end. The other evening fare were variety shows (The Smothers Brothers, and Milton Berle), neither of which kept their attention very long. Mandy had kissed them both, and crawled into bed before nine o'clock. Vic was asleep on Greg's lap by then. He liked it, and let her sleep quite a while. Eventually, though, she was feeling a little heavy on him (under no circumstances, would he ever tell her that!), so he helped her get into bed. He sat for another half-hour, thinking of nothing in particular, then decided he was pretty sleepy, too. They were all out for the night by 10 o'clock.
Mandy's test was given between 8 o'clock and noon. They assumed the actual test only took a portion of that time, but they ate breakfast early, and got her over to the campus shortly after eight. They decided to wait for her in the parking lot. It was already a warm morning, with temperatures to 90 degrees expected for several days. However, the predictions were that, by mid-week, the highs would probably only be about 70 or 75. Fall might be coming, after all.
"I think this is going to be harder than last year, Greg."
He reached out, and touched her arm. "I think you're right. I've become very accustomed to having an every-night wife. Our communications are going to be more important than ever.
"One improvement is that I'll have a telephone near me every night, so you can call regularly. We'll have the football games to look forward to. The one this next weekend is in Omaha, but you'll just be starting classes then, anyway. The next week is here, and it's your home team - the University of North Dakota. That one may be tough. They're one of the top small colleges in the country again, and I think I recall they were pretty mean to us last year."
"You'll come up for the whole weekend for that one?"
"Sure, I plan to. Your dad might want me to come up there for a day, about then, since Dan will be leaving soon after that. Speaking of Dan, as soon as he and Jean are out of the house, we should do a furniture shopping trip, to find us a good bed and other stuff."
"I would like to do that. A comfy bed at both houses seems very desirable."
When Mandy was finished with her test, they went back to the motel, freshened up, and checked out. They had burgers, fries and shakes, and arrived at the dorm about 1 o'clock. The entry was a little different because another dorm had been build adjacent to the old one, but they found their way in, and immediately saw Mrs. McPherson.
"Aha. I thought I'd see you fairly early, with Amanda being a Freshman this term. It's nice to still have an Anderson in the dorm, but now I have a Cleveland, too. Congratulation, Vic - and you, too, Greg. Thanks so much for the wedding invitation. I was away at the time, but would have loved to be there."
Vic gave her a hug. "I am so glad to see you!"
"And I, you. And..." Turning to Greg, "I won't have to be constantly vigilant for lusty chauffeurs, anymore."
"Well, in compensation for all your past worries, I've brought you a present." He handed her the Nevil Shute book.
"'Vinland the Good.' Thank you, Greg. I'm looking forward to reading this."
"I had to go to California to get it for you. Vic and I went in June, to meet my family before the wedding, and I found it among the things I still have stored there. Keep it as long as you like."
"Thank you. I expect I won't wait long to read it. Now, Vic and Amanda, we can visit later. Why don't you get your things to your room before the rush really starts? I know you wanted a room with Nancy Williams. The new dorm doesn't have any three-person rooms, but we managed to get you one over here."
"Thanks. You remember that Mandy and I used to live with Nancy's family during the high school years, so we didn't have the long bus ride every day?"
"I'd forgotten that. Well, you know you're compatible. That's good. I hate it when roommates don't get along."
"That won't be a problem for us," Mandy affirmed.
They soon had all the suitcases and boxes transferred to the dorm. Greg said goodbye to Mrs. M., Mandy gave him a good hug, and he and Vic walked out to the truck.
"I hate this part," said Vic.
"You and me, both. But I'll be back every chance I get. And be sure to use the phone liberally. Your folks are paying for it."
"Greg!"
"Just kidding. We'll pay for it, but the account is still in their name. I'll stop the service in November, then start it again in our name in the spring."
They sat in the truck, and shared a few kisses before Greg finally started back to Magic Valley. Vic went off to get her and Mandy settled in their new "home."
***
Greg stopped at the diner to eat and visit, re-set the duck traps as he passed by, and arrived back at headquarters just about dusk. He glanced through the mail, and skimmed the headlines of the newspapers that arrived while he was away. Nothing caught his attention. He tried to read for a while, but finally gave up, and went to bed.
During the week, Greg checked the duck traps morning and evening. Tim went with him some of the time, but the catch most days didn't really require two people. Ten ducks, mostly mallards, was an above-average result for a day.
Greg ran the mist-net most days - just because he was staying fairly close to the office, and could tend it - but few songbirds were caught, and nothing unusual.
Daytime temperatures had cooled considerably over previous weeks, the highs seldom getting over 70 degrees. It was cool enough some mornings to have a slight frost. The cooler weather slowed evaporation from the ponds, but occasional clouds didn't produce any rain over the refuge. (Pocatello did better, with about a third of an inch of rain, and the daytime temperatures sometimes not getting above 60.) Lightning strikes in the mountains south and northwest of Magic Valley resulted in a 400-acre fire near Malad, and one that charred almost 13,000 acres northeast of Shoshone. Neither proved a threat to developed property or livestock. There were no fires near the refuge.
Vic phoned Wednesday evening. Mandy's orientation was going well, and there had been quite a bit of time already to show her the key features of campus. "It looks like she'll start out with some art and music history classes, to go along with her general ed requirements. She thinks maybe she'll sign up for basketball as her P..E. class. I think I may stick with swimming one more semester. I'm enjoying it, and getting pretty good, too. I know the Stinker Station signs prohibit nude swimming along the Interstate, but maybe there's some place to practice my skills.
"I think I'll stick with the Government and American history courses, too. By the way, I was able to find my Government professor, and talk to him for a while. I gave him a copy of your letter on the draft. It will be interesting to hear his comments. He didn't have any draft news from the summer to pass along, but he did have a little bit on the Iowa arm bands."
"Good. I was wondering about that. What did he find out?"
"The kids appeared in U. S. court on July 25. Apparently, their attorneys are saying that singling out arm-band wearing was too arbitrary. They asked if the school banned the wearing of religious symbols, like crosses, or political symbols, like campaign buttons. The school reps said they didn't. That seemed to me like a good point to make. Either of those types of apparel could be contentious."
"But just a week ago, the U. S. Circuit Court decided against the kids, concluding that their case could have been considered a 'free speech' one, but that - in that judge's opinion - the right to free speech wasn't unlimited. The judge concluded that the school board had the right to control the 'academic atmosphere,' or some such term, and the arm bands might have been disruptive. It was interesting to me that the judge actually talked about a similar case in which the Appeals Court had decided just the opposite."
"What was the other case about?"
"A bunch of Negro students had come to school wearing political buttons - for 'SNCC?' I've heard of SNCC, but don't know much about it. I guess it's a pretty controversial group. Anyway, nothing had happened when the buttons were worn. There were no confrontations, or fights, or anything, but the students were all expelled for going against a ruling that political buttons weren't allowed in school. I didn't understand if that was a long-term ruling, or if it related directly to the particular situation. In either case, the Court of Appeals overrode the school directive, let the students go back to school, and declared it a 'free speech' issue since it hadn't caused any disruption to school, at all."
"That sounds right to me."
"To me, too. But this judge just sort of said that the appeals court was entitled to their opinion, but he saw it differently. Is that the way the court is supposed to work?"
"Well, the way I learned about it in high school and college is that our courts had all the wisdom of Solomon - and used it! When they were asked to rule on something, they studied it in detail, checked the Constitution, looked for precedents, and finally came to an iron-clad decision that everybody could understand. This doesn't sound like that. And, of course, I'm still upset about what slipshod treatment the Supreme Court gave to the whole issue of Selective Service. The more I learn about our government, the angrier I get.
"So, what happens next?"
"The kids' lawyers are headed for the Supreme Count. As both my teacher and you told me, that could take years to decide."
"Yeah, it could. Hey Vic, I'm sorry to sound so angry about this. I love being able to talk to you about it, but the talking can be kept under better control when we're together. We can take breaks to think about things, or take breaks to do other stuff."
"I agree to the various benefits of togetherness. To lighten the conversation a bit, do you remember I mentioned the history professor, Merrill Beal? He wrote some books on Idaho, and he and his wife spent their summers as rangers in Yellowstone."
"I remember. He came to your History class one time."
"Yep, that's the only time I got to see him. I found out that he retired last May, when the school year got over. I wanted you to meet him."
"It sounded like he - well, they - might be fun to get to know. I'll have to find his books, and read them.
"I should let you go, I guess. There's nothing in particular going on here. Tim and I have been duck banding, and I've been running the mist-net. Not too much happening with either, however. Our little bit cooler weather is probably helping to keep our water areas from shrinking as fast as they were, but it still looks like it could be pretty dry in another couple weeks."
"Yes, I should go. People will be clamoring for the phone soon, I imagine. I called on purpose while everybody was at dinner. Oh, I remembered one thing I was going to ask you about. Last winter, while we were talking about something, my Government teacher asked if I'd ever read John Steinbeck. He thought I'd like him. Would I?"
"You seem to have been able to find something to like in everything I've tried on you, so far. So, yes, you'd certainly like some Steinbeck. He wrote mostly about California, and a lot about the farm areas south of the Bay Area. Some of his books are big epics - you know, covering several generations of a family. Some are about certain events - like one of his most famous ones, 'The Grapes of Wrath,' is about the migration of Okies and Arkies fleeing to California to escape the Dust Bowl conditions in the south-central U. S. Some of his books that I like the best aren't really about anything in particular - just people living their everyday lives. They're like a book about us would be - us just going about our daily lives, with not a lot of noteworthy excitement. But if a really good writer - like Steinbeck - chose to write our story, I bet he could make our humdrum existence seem pretty interesting to somebody else."
"Well, this humdrum wife is saying good night to her humdrum husband, now. I love you, Gregory Cleveland."
"And I love you, Victoria Anderson-Cleveland. Give Mandy a hug, and a kiss on the forehead, and tell her I love you. Consider yourself kissed, as well - but not just on the forehead. I hope you will go to sleep tonight - and every night! - thinking about all the loving things we will be sharing when we're together, again."
***
Greg knew he was going to be alone a lot of days over the next couple of months, but he thought that the weekends would still be the toughest to weather. Saturday on the porch steps would always be his and Vic's special time. He'd been able to ease the ache a little bit in the past by going into town to visit and to have dancing lessons with Mandy. Unfortunately, there was nobody to visit in town, anymore.
On purpose, he started his Saturday off slow. He got up late, and spent a lot of time making and eating breakfast. Only then, did he make a quick trip out to the duck traps, where he had half a dozen mallards, most of them new catches. He returned home, and sat reading the newspapers that had accumulated. Not much caught his attention. There was one story about the proposed new civil rights bill, that had been talked about all year. The Senate had just rejected a second attempt to put it back on their agenda. Therefore, the House-passed bill was destined to die with the end of the session. Apparently, the open-housing provision was the main hang-up. It would have banned discrimination in about 40% of the nation's housing, mainly apartments and new single-home developments. Individual homeowners wouldn't have been covered, meaning they could discriminate all they wanted!.
Vic and Mandy would both have their schedules decided now, and classes would start on Monday. He was eager to hear those results. The ISU football game this weekend was in Omaha, so he wouldn't know how that went until Vic told him, or he saw it in the Sunday Pocatello paper (that Mike would probably bring on Monday).
He was still indoors at about 11 o'clock, when he heard a vehicle outside. He went to check, and saw two young men getting out of an old Ford sedan. It took him a minute to recognize them.
"Hi, Mr. Cleveland. We're not disturbing you, are we?"
"Not a bit. Call me Greg. I'm not much older than you. You're Terry, and you're Scott - Black, right? - friends and school prom escorts for the Anderson girls, and a very big help at Vic's and my wedding - for which, I thank you, again!
"What brings you out here?"
"We're kind of joy riding, I guess," Scott volunteered. "We were talking, and we realized that - even though we've lived here all our lives, and have known the Andersons since they moved to Idaho - we don't think we've ever been all the way out here."
Greg laughed. "Well, it isn't the most inspirational drive in the world. We've nicknamed it 'the god-awful road.' Almost everybody who comes out here says something like that, about it.
"Anyway, can you visit for a bit? The coffee's still fresh, and I'm sure there are a couple of Pepsis in the frig."
They sat at the kitchen table, and talked. "Did you know that Vic and Mandy were already at school?" They didn't. "This was Freshman orientation week. Vic didn't really have to be there until Thursday, but she stayed with Mandy, to help her get settled. You know Nancy Williams, of course? She and Vic were roommates last year, and the three of them have a dorm room together this year. That should be fun. Classes actually start Monday.
"What are you guys doing since graduation?"
Terry responded. "We both hope to get to college eventually, but money's been a little problem. Our dad died a couple of years ago - a heart attack. He was an ag agent - you know, a farm and home advisor. Mom's not sick or anything, but she's been a little frail since Dad died, and we've been taking turns looking out for her.
"We have a farm - 40 acres just outside of town - where we grow enough for our needs, and also a bit to sell at farmers' markets and such. One of us takes care of that and Mom, while the other finds work that pays a little better. Scott was on the county fire crew last year, and then worked the sugar campaign. I've been fighting fires this summer, and plan to work the campaign this winter. Between us, we've been building up the bank account, and we hope one of us will be able to start school this time next year. The plan is to go alternate years, so it'll be eight years before we both finish and get our degrees, but that seems like the best bet - at least, for planning purposes."
"Like me, both of you must be draftable?"
"Yeah, we are, and that could change everything. Having to take care of Mom and the property, we might be able to plead 'hardship' to the draft board. That might get at least one of us off the list.
"Well, we shouldn't take up all your time. We ought to get going."
"No, I'm glad to visit. It gets a little quiet here on weekends, now that Vic's away. Say, I was going to drive through the refuge sometime this afternoon. If you want to go that way with me, you can get back to town on old Highway 30. It's a lot nicer than repeating the 'god-awful road.'"
"Can we do that?"
"Yeah, it's easy. You probably know the old diner on Highway 30 - the last active business on that part of the old road? That's where we'll come out if we drive all the way through the refuge. I'll probably stop there for lunch. You can either do that, or just drive back into town."
The brothers followed Greg through the refuge. They didn't seem overly impressed with all the ducks, but they seemed to enjoy the trip. When they got to the east gate, Scott recognized where they were.
"I don't do a lot of hunting, but I did come here one time with some other guys. I didn't realize this was the other end of your area. I started to wonder about it today, when you mentioned meeting the highway at the diner."
Scott and Terry decided not to eat, and headed back to town. Greg ordered the obligatory burger and fries, and visited for a bit with Jackson and Cora. He checked the duck traps on his way back, but they were empty. Water levels looked about the same as last time he checked, so he left everything as it had been. The weather predictions for the upcoming week didn't include any rain, but the temperatures weren't supposed to climb above the mid-70s. That would help.
The rest of the weekend was slow and lonely. The Monday mail included a memo from the Federal agent in Boise, noting that the Pocatello position was still vacant, so there wouldn't be a law enforcement meeting for refuge managers that fall. The agent included a copy of the "advice" letter the Pocatello office had sent the previous September.
Greg and Tim looked over the water supply (about the same; nothing to be done), and banded about a dozen mallards. Tim did have an updated report on Rusty.
"I finally actually talked to him for a few minutes. He says he's fine. He got shot in the leg, and they had to do a little 'rebuilding,' as he called it, but it wasn't going to be even that debilitating, he didn't think. He expects to be discharged by the end of the month, and may actually be home in early October."
"That all sounds good. Your parents are doing okay with that news?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Greg hadn't heard from Vic by Tuesday, but Mike had brought the Sunday Pocatello newspaper, so he was able to see the results of the Bengals' game against the University of Omaha Indians. The Indians had been favored to win, but the final score was 28 to 20, in favor of ISU. ISU's new quarterback led scoring drives of 80, 89, 68 and 50 yards, and completed 15 of 24 pass attempts. Omaha outrushed the Bengals by a wide margin, but the Bengals won the passing duel by an equally large margin. Their quarterback set a new single-game passing record for ISU, 263 yards (previous record was 171). The Bengal fans would be happy, even if they didn't get to see it happen.
Vic called Thursday evening. She sounded tired, but said that registration had gone 'fine' for both of them, they got all the courses they wanted, and had now completed one whole week, except for swimming and basketball on Friday. Her schedule was pretty much the same as her first year, with Monday and Wednesday being the busiest days. She'd stuck with her Government and American History track, taking the second level of those courses. She'd added another political science class and, for an elective, had signed up for American Literature.
He let her tell him about the football game, even though he already knew. He told her about Scott's and Terry's visit. He reminded her that she'd be seeing him Friday afternoon, that he would expect to make passionate love with her, and later go to a football game with her and Mandy. She seemed agreeable to both plans.
Greg arrived at the dorm Friday, with hamburgers and fries in the car, ready to eat. He visited with Mandy long enough to get her first impressions of college, and told her they'd be back Saturday to go to the football game together. Then, he and Vic retreated to their motel for the rest of the day.
Once in their room, their greeting for one another was notable, but short enough that their food was still relatively warm when they got to it. Settled on the couch, they didn't find anything that needed saying immediately, and both drifted happily off to sleep. The light was growing dim in the room when next they opened their eyes.
"You are a very restful person to be with," Vic commented, a little sleepily.
"I will say the same about you." He did. They still didn't find any immediate need to move their positions, or to communicate verbally. The room got darker. Clearly, the sun had gone down.
"I guess we needed that," said Greg.
"These last two weeks have been pretty stressful for me, getting Mandy settled and getting me back in an academic mood. I also think I'm always a little stressed, just being away from you."
"I feel that way, too. The weekends are particularly hard for me, with all of our porch-step memories.
"But, lest we get too maudlin, I have a suggestion for a little later. In my gear is a nice bottle of wine, and two real wine glasses. If you are willing to drink some of that wine - illegal as it is, for you, my underage beauty! - we could probably get a pepperoni pizza delivered to go with it."
"That does sound lovely. Let me get up for a minute, then tell me more about Scott's and Terry's visit."
After they had stretched, and taken care of a little personal business, they settled back on the couch. 'Okay, Scott and Terry. They said they were just out joy-riding, and that they had never been to the refuge, before."
"I wouldn't have thought of them never being out here, but we knew them best in high school, and in high school we were mostly at Nancy's house. They never would have had reason to come out for us."
"That makes sense. Although they didn't claim any other motive, they seemed surprised that you and Mandy weren't here. If they were extra disappointed, they covered it well, but I wondered if one young man had perhaps been hoping to see one particular young woman."
"Terry and Mandy, you mean?"
"Well, nothing was said to make me think that. However, having been a pursuer of an Anderson woman, myself, I thought I sensed something familiar. But, anyway, we didn't talk about women. I guess you know all about their father dying, and them working out ways to take care of their mother, while hopefully getting money for college."
"Yes, I did know all that. They seem to be planning pretty well, but there's going to be some hard times for them, I think."
"Probably so. And, like us, they have Selective Service to worry about, too. They seem like nice guys."
"They are. I might have been interested in Scott, if I hadn't set my sights on somebody else."
"Anybody I know?"
She just gave him a big smile. "I don't know about Mandy and Terry. I've never sensed anything romantic between them, but they are close. She bullies him relentlessly at times, which he seems to take quite amiably."
"That could be your sign, right there."
Later, wine and pizza were just the right combination for the end of their day. After they finished, they sat up a little longer, but didn't turn on the TV. It was still early when they adjourned to the bed.
***
Their room was already bright with sunshine when they awoke Saturday morning. Both felt relaxed and invigorated.
"Do you know what I miss the most when you're not with me?" Greg asked, after a while.
"Yes."
He laughed. "Well, you're probably right, but that wasn't what I was thinking about. Do you know what I miss second-most when you're not with me?"
"Tell me."
"I miss just talking to you. Remember how I used to say how hard it had been for me to find anybody to talk to about all the things I was interested in? Well, you listened to me, and I listened to you, and we learned a lot about each other, while satisfying that need to be listened to. But we also made our individual interests into mutual interests. I love to just talk things out with you, and I miss it at lot when I can't.
"Do you know the Broadway show, 'Paint Your Wagon?'"
"I've heard of it, but I don't know it. What about it?"
"A few days ago, I started thinking about one of the songs. I haven't heard it in years, but I think it says a lot about how I felt - and feel - before and after we got together."
"So, tell me the words."
"I'll sing a little bit of it to you." He did.
I talk to the trees, but they don't listen to me.
I talk to the stars, but they never hear me.
The breeze hasn't time to stop, and hear what I say.
I talk to them all in vain.
But suddenly, my words reach someone else's ear,
And someone else's heart strings. too.
I tell you my dreams, and while you're listening to me,
I suddenly see them come true.
"That's nice. I like it, a lot."
"Thanks. While I was singing it, I had another thought. We were just joking about what I like best, and second-best, but I think maybe there isn't really any separation. They're one and the same."
"You're saying that sex and talking are the same?"
"Maybe that's putting it a little simplistically. May I explain?"
"Please do. I'm all ears."
He leaned over, and kissed her closest ear. "I like your ears, but 'all ears' is not really descriptive of your attributes. But, keeping on subject, I'm not the world's greatest authority on human sexual behavior..."
"That's an understatement."
"Because, I was about to say, all my experience has been limited to time with one fantastic woman. However, I read, and watch TV, and listen to the people around me, and I've come to the conclusion that most people like sex."
"That probably didn't require a lot of research."
"No, it didn't, but an accompanying conclusion is that most people consider sex a diversion - a recreation, or a pastime. In other words, sex is something to do.
"Pursuing this subject, I think most people would consider their sex - as a recreation - satisfactory, and as good as they expected it to be. If you asked them to rate their experience on a scale of 1 to 10, you'd probably get answers like 'good-5,' or 'very nice-6.' Now, I'm not saying that there aren't a lot of individual performances that rate a lot higher, but that's a different kind of sex.
"Now, compare our love-making to the 'good' and 'very nice' 5s and 6s. Every time we get together is so good, the most recent experience comes close to dropping a previous one out of our Top Ten. But it can't, because In fact, all we have are Top Tens!"
"Wow!"
"Wow, is right. But you're saying it, not because you disagree, but because you haven't really considered it in exactly this way, before. Now, you see that what I'm saying is absolutely correct - every time we come together is different, but every time is excellent.
"Do you want to know why?"
"How could I say no?"
"That's right,, how could you? The difference with us is that making love isn't something we do. It's a part of who we are. It isn't something that happens because we choose between watching TV and having sex..."
"I think we have done that."
"Come on, Vic. Stay with me on this. It's okay if we occasionally make appointments, or if we act spontaneously at other times. But when we commit to something - whether it's talking on our porch steps, or tangling ourselves up together in our bed - there are no artificial time limits on how long it lasts, and there are no restrictions on how we choose to communicate - verbally, or otherwise.
"Do you see the difference?"
"I think so, but just for clarification. You don't think that talking and sex are the same thing, do you?"
Eventually, they got up, had breakfast in the motel coffee shop, and went over to the dorm to meet Mandy. With her, Nancy, and others from the dorm, they watched the Bengals get destroyed in football by the University of North Dakota, 41-0. Greg heard someone say that it was the worst Bengal defeat in 17 years.
In one sense, it wasn't a surprise that the Bengals lost. North Dakota football was ranked as the number three small college program in America. On the other hand, watching the game wasn't as bad as the score suggested. The rushing and passing statistics were actually pretty close for the two teams, but UND capitalized on all their chances. In contrast, the Bengals had 80 yards in penalties, a blocked punt, and several interceptions. For the fans, there was no way to make the loss look good.
Mandy and Nancy joined Vic and Greg for dinner. Mandy opted for pizza. Pizza two nights in a row was just fine with Vic and Greg, although Vic did miss her glass of wine. They all went back to the dorm, and visited in the lounge for a while, then Greg and Vic returned to their motel room. They had a nice night.
"Have you noticed that I seldom say 'maybe, maybe not,' anymore?" Vic asked, on Sunday morning.
"I have noticed, and I've missed it. I find it endearing It also has kind of a nebulous quality to it, like it might be hiding some delicious surprise for me."
"Define 'nebulous,' in this case."
"I think I just did. I mean, it's purposely unclear what you mean - ambiguous, hazy. That's what I mean about maybe you're hiding - or suggesting - something really worth waiting for. I like that."
"Well, see, that's changed with me. Saying 'maybe, maybe not' was always kind of a courtship tease - to get you interested, and to keep you interested. But there was also a little defense involved. Before you really, truly know somebody, you're hesitant to just dive right in and say what you want, or what you feel. When you get to know someone, the way we know each other, that defense isn't necessary, anymore.
"So, now, when you ask something, or suggest something, I usually just say yes or no."
"Thankfully, most of the time it's yes."
"That's true, but what I'm saying is that now I don't need to hedge. I just tell you what I believe, or what I want. No equivocation."
"No equivocation. So, now that you have me - hook, line and sinker - signed, sealed, delivered - you're not going to be saying any nebulous, intriguing, suggestive things to me, anymore?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
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