Good Day

Gamble Rivend stood with one foot on the guide rail at the lodge of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. It was a place with some memories for him, though he wasn’t old enough, in his reckoning, to reminisce. Even so, he couldn’t help but remember the long summer solstice he’d spent here fifteen years ago.

The sun broke over the ridge line and set his golden hair aglow in the morning light. He was a tall and stocky person, broad-shouldered but still lean. It was a different visage from the first time he’d watched the sun come up on this longest day of the year. At that time, he was only nineteen years old. He’d come to work at the canyon as part of a summer work program with his college. So, it seemed, did most of his coworkers at the time.

He saw movement on a path below him; hikers who rose before the sun, catching the coolest hike for this time of year. That was how his day started back then. He’d rose when it was still dark, and came to the trailhead to wait for the pretty young girl he’d met the day before. Her name was Vera, and almost right away they hit it off as friends. She was the nicest person at the employee orientation, and they’d agreed to the early morning hike then.

He’d been adjusting straps on his water pack when she’d approached him.

“You can’t be serious with that,” she’d chided. The sky had began to lighten, and even in the half-light of dawn, her features were striking. Shoulder length auburn hair cascading in elegant curls that framed her molasses skin. Her eyes were a golden colour that reflected the growing sunlight hypnotically.

“With what? The water?”

“You look like such a dork!” she’d said with a laugh.

He’d laughed in return, heartier than hers. “You clearly aren’t from Arizona. I give you two hours before you’re begging for this.”

“Pfft, no way. I had water before I left. Besides, we’re only hiking ‘till midday.” She’d walked past him, her shoulder touching his playfully before heading down the trail.

Gamble smiled and shook his head at the memory. It was, in fact, two and a half hours before she was hugging the pack and squeezing it like a bagpipe. Looking back down at the hikers of this morning, he noted an older couple, a father with two teenage boys, and a woman with dark hair. The latter had a very similar water pack to his own from before. “Certainly can’t be Vera,” he mused to himself aloud.

His focus shifted to the older couple. More than their age, the couple aspect caught his focus. He’d been through a few relationships in the fifteen years since he was here, but none of them really had much more than a brief appeal. For a moment, he wondered something he hadn’t wondered for nearly that long. Had he missed a wonderful opportunity that day? Was their something between he and Vera?

Once again, he shook his head. It had been a good day. Unexpectedly so, since Gamble was not a fan of the grueling summer months in Arizona. He’d planned to hunker down in as cool a cave as he could find, with the welcome companionship of central air conditioning. Instead, he’d gained a new friend and had one of the best days of his life. So, the memory was clearly sweeter in his mind, and any romantic chemistry was simply rose-coloured glasses.

“Right?” he asked himself aloud.

He turned down a nearby staircase and began walking a less beaten path. It didn’t lead into the canyon, but instead walked along just inside the treeline parallel to the edge of the rocks. His next destination was an area frequented by employees at the time he’d been there.

Back in the first solstice, they’d returned from their hike a few minutes before noon. There was an employee lunch and brief meeting, which they only just caught. After, they’d followed the crowd to the rocky outcropping he was approaching now.

“I can’t believe you didn’t even have sunscreen,” he’d teased Vera at the time.

She’d scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, you’re super-prepared and I’m super not. Can this be the end of you gloating?”

He’d pressed on, undaunted. “You would be a stringy, dried up turkey if I wasn’t there. The vultures would have to bring gravy before they could eat you!”

“Really? This is how you want to spend your day?” she’d asked.

“Oh, very much so, yes. And it’s the longest day of the year.”

Gamble laughed once again. Memories of the good-natured ribbing kept him company on the short hike to the rocky outcropping. He sat at the edge of the canyon, his feet hanging off the rock and dancing at the oblivion below. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of Bluetooth headphones and queued up the music for a restful, introspective morning of uncharacteristic reminiscence.

And so he sat for quite a few hours, alone with the memories and his interpretation thereof keeping him occupied. He saw the same group of hikers far below him at one point, and let his gaze linger. It looked like the dad was having trouble wrangling his sons, and Gamble laughed again. What could he have expected, he thought, bringing teenagers to hike in the summer heat? Maybe he’s training for some endurance trial, in which case, he’s a shoe-in to win after today.

Then he spotted the lady who’d had the water pack turned half toward him. He cocked an eyebrow and squinted at her. Could that be…?

He blinked, shook his head as if to clear clutter, and looked again. She certainly had Vera’s profile, and she’d always been the same height as Gamble as was this woman, but there was no making out her face at this distance. But it couldn’t be, he thought. Fifteen years without seeing each other and now we’re at the same place on the same day? There was a better chance of being struck by lightening.

Unless she came for the same reason, he thought excitedly. They both seemed to have a good day, so why not return for that memory alone?

He shook his head. No, no. Surely it’s just someone who looks the same. He turned to look at his water, which was almost empty. The sun had climbed to nearly overhead, and he decided it was time to get lunch. A decision which, he assured himself, had nothing to do with the fact that the hiking group was ascending the path back to the lodge. Nothing to do with the fact that at this area, the only place to eat at midday was the café, and he would most assuredly bump into the hikers there. Nope, this was just a good time to eat and get more water.

The memories didn’t take time off on his walk back, though. He remembered wanting to go back down into the canyon after lunch, but Vera wanted to go back to the employee area.

“They’re doing a raffle,” she’d said.

“But we just got here. Are you sure we’re in it?”

She’d nodded. “I talked to the HR lady yesterday. It’s for all employees, and ours was the last group in. Now that everybody’s here, it’s like an incentive to get to know one another.”

He remembered thinking that he’d already met someone, and he’d rather spend more time with her than meet new people. But, the damnable part of him that was an adult at nineteen knew better, and so they’d gone back to the raffle. Which was more fun than he’d expected, admittedly. They had a few games spread out in the grassy are between buildings, supervisors from various positions at the lodge answering questions about the duties they would fill. Gamble had met a couple friends he’d grow close to through the summer that day. And, as luck would have it, he won a raffle prize.

“That one is usually for employees that are here with their spouse, so you might talk to one of them about trading prizes,” the HR lady (whose name had long since faded to what’s-her-name in Gamble’s memories) told him at the time. She handed him an envelope and he walked back into the crowd before opening it.

“What is it?” Vera asked, appearing at his shoulder.

“It’s…” he’d replied, pausing like a game show host building excitement, “...dinner for two at the lodge restaurant.”

There was a short, but seemingly infinite silence at that.

“Oh,” Vera said finally.

Before Gamble could reply (and mercifully so, he remembered thinking), the HR lady called out Vera’s name.

“Oh, that’s me,” she said to him, before making her way to the front. He nodded simply, stuffing the invitation back into the envelope. Before long, she’d returned with a box that took both hands to carry.

“Oh wow,” Gamble gawked, “yours is way better than mine!”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, reached in and pulled out a clay pot. “Really?” she asked sarcastically.

He stifled a laugh. “Obviously! Mine can only be used once, but yours is endless possibilities! You could plant anything!”

She put the pot back in, then pulled out a seed packet with strawberries on the picture. “Apparently it’s for this.”

“Well,” he replied, “I was right. Strawberries on-demand!”

“Okay, you know what?” She put the box by her feet, then planted a finger in his chest. “You’ve mocked me far too much today! Now you have to take me to dinner!”

He sucked his teeth in sarcastic apprehension. “I don’t know if I can afford that.”

“Uh-huh. Figure it out. Cause you’re taking me tonight.”

Even now, the playful interaction caused Gamble to blush. It was the most effortless date he’d ever made, and a memory he truly cherished. I wonder if she ever grew the strawberries…

As he stepped around the corner of the café, he saw the group of hikers standing in front of the entrance. The older couple were fanning themselves and discussing the sights of the hike, while the father was red-faced and tenuously composed next to his griping children. As nonchalantly as he could muster, Gamble scanned the area for the woman he’d seen with them. His gaze soon fell on the water pack she’d worn propped against the wall outside the bathroom. He sighed inwardly, until he realized there was writing on the pack. He got close enough to read it…

And groaned. CASSIDY was scrawled in black ink across the top flap. He chastised himself inwardly for having gotten so excited. Memories are just that, he told himself.

Mildly let down, he went into the café to get his lunch. He tried not to think that the food had been better when his friends were the ones making it, but failed. He had memories from the whole summer he’d spent working there, but throughout the day, and even in his life in general, the summer solstice held special priority.

‘Because of Vera,’ he caught himself thinking.

‘No, no,’ his brain retorted itself, ‘it was just a good day. Things aligned and it just became fun and memorable.’

Still, her face came rushing up to the forefront. Her smile was sweeter to Gamble than any fruit or candy. The soulfulness of her eyes were like a fairy-tale in which one could lose oneself, and he found himself cursing the fact that he hadn’t. Would that he could reach backward in time and smack the hell out of himself for squandering that chance to tell her how incredible she was.

Suddenly, he felt the food souring in his mouth, and realized he was on the verge of tears right there in the café. He shook his head again, and swallowed before taking a long sip from his new water bottle. ‘This is a good day,’ he insisted inwardly.

It was, too. He spent the afternoon walking the trail he and Vera had walked that afternoon. He deliberately left between groups, trying to keep his walk private. He passed the dad as he boiled-over at the exhausted children. The two were wide-eyed as he shouted frustrations at them. Gamble did his best to act unaffected, while simultaneously assessing whether the kids would face any irreversible wrath. Content that they would only receive an ear-lashing, he continued along the path of dirt and memory.

Once the sun began to cast shadows in the lower elevations of the canyon, he made his way back up to the rail he’d begun his day out. It was about a hundred yards from the restaurant, with rails facing east and west. It was a popular place to watch the sunset, so he wasn’t alone. Physically, at least. He half considered eating at the restaurant, as sort of a memory nightcap, but decided that memory he wanted to keep specifically with Vera. He had, after ping-ponging back and forth all day, finally admitted that she was the best day of his life. Events that would otherwise have been mundane were warm, comforting memories because she was in them. With that realization, he stood facing the kaleidoscopic colours of the setting sun.

Until he felt a tapping on his shoulder. When he turned, his eyes went wide as they fell on the unmistakable beauty he’d seen only in his mind’s eye all day. It was the lady with the water pack; it was Vera. Her hair was elegantly upswept, and she her makeup was subtle but mesmerizing.

“But your pack said ‘Cassidy’…” he muttered, more to himself, but loud enough to hear.

“Vera!” he managed to say after a moment of stupor. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“I saw you at lunch,” she said, “and I couldn’t believe it was you. It’s been so long, and you look the same.”

He looked down at his clothes. They were appropriate for hiking, so naturally he felt astonishingly underdressed next to her. “Do you mean still filthy from hiking?”

She snickered. “Yes, very mush so.”

“But I don’t understand, your pack said ‘Cassidy’…” he muttered, more to himself, but loud enough to hear.

“Yeah, I forgot your last name, too,” she said. When he looked at her with dawning realization, she simply stuck out her tongue.

Then one of the servers opened the door to the restaurant and called out, “Gamble, party of two.”

He looked at Vera in surprise. “You got reservations?”

She nodded sweetly. “I figured if I get you dinner, we’re even.”

Gamble tried not to betray how excited he was, but gestured to his outfit. “You’re sure this is how you want to spend your evening?”

“I’m sure,” she said. “After all, it’s the longest day of the year.”