Thursday, December 23, 2010

Roy and Dale Defeat the Indians

Cathy walks with confidence ahead of me. She is Dale Evans, and we are tracking Indians through the second growth forest of northern New Jersey. They took this path—and there ahead is my Palomino horse Trigger. We break into a run. Just like Roy Rogers, I swing easily up onto the fallen log that lies across our path. Cathy swings herself up behind me. Together we ride after the Indians. The log bounces in a big satisfying rhythm. We kick with our heels. When we spot the Indians at last, I give Cathy a gun from my cowhide holster and keep one for myself.

We open fire. But the Indians shoot back. Eventually one of them hits me in my shooting arm with an arrow. I drop my gun and roll dramatically off the log.

Cathy finishes off the last Indians with a sure aim and hurries to tend to my wounds. Lying on the loamy ground with a little stand of Jack-in-the-pulpit looking on, I indicate the arrow. Cathy grabs it and digs it out with a knife. She bandages it with care. Together, sweaty and satisfied, we take the wooded path back toward my house.

When we reach the sandbox we catch and hold each other's gaze. A smile works on my lips, and happily I see the same smile force itself into Cathy's eyes and then her mouth. When she yodels, my heart and that of Roy Rogers sing along.

No comments: