The voice belonged neither to Gennady Larkspur not his murderous mate, but to a young man with a radiant and intrusive flashlight. A very young man, they saw as he came nearer. Ross Ed guessed him to be in his mid-teens. And he had company.
In response to his cry, half a dozen additional lights emerged from the rocks like so many crazed deep-sea denizens. Together, they provided enough light to illuminate the bodies as well as the faces of their owners. The former were for the most part lanky, the latter openly curious.
“What are you guys doing down here?” inquired the eldest, without a hint of sarcasm. He might be twenty, Ross Ed decided.
Rising slowly, he brushed sand from his clothes. “I might ask you the same question.” A more demure Caroline turned her back on the nocturnal newcomers while she cleaned herself off.
“We’re from Phoenix.” The eldest of the young men straight-ened proudly. “Troop Four-Oh-Four, on a special merit-badge camp-out. Snicks thought he saw movement down here.”
The boy who’d first shone a light on them nodded. ‘thought it might be a couple of mating cougars, but it was only you guys.” He sniffed pointedly. “Shoulda known from the absence of any musk.”
Ross Ed had the grace to blush, though in the subdued light it passed unnoticed.
“We decided to investigate.” The neatly dressed youths crowded closer. “You two all right?” They ranged in age from the leader’s twenty to a gawky stripling of fifteen.
“We’re fine, thanks.” Caroline spoke a little more sharply than she’d intended. Musk, indeed. She made shooing motions. “You can go on now. We’ll be all right. Go back to the ranch.”
“We’re not staying at the ranch, ma’am.” One of the other boys gestured across the river. “We’ve been camping on the north side, up by the falls. We’re on our way out, now.”
Ross Ed frowned. “In the middle of the night?”
The leader grinned proudly. “Special merit badge. A night hike’s pan of our training. That’s why all the flashlights.”
“It’s great!” insisted one of the younger boys. “There’s nobody else out and we’ve got the trail all to ourselves. Also, you get to see some neat animals that don’t come out during the day.”
“Like cougars, maybe.” The boy who’d discovered Ross Ed and Caroline was still disappointed.
They exchanged a look. “Would we be imposing,” asked Caroline sweetly, “if we came with you? Just sort of tagged along? We wouldn’t hinder your training.”
The leader stood a little taller; almost as tall as Caroline. “You’re more than welcome, ma’am. You sure you’re okay?”
A shout came from one of the other boys. “Hey, what’s that?” The beam from his light was focused squarely on Ross Ed’s backpack and its extraterrestrial contents.
Ross Ed replied without thinking. ‘That’s my ventriloquist’s dummy.”
The leader’s face twisted uncertainly. “You take it hiking with you?”
“You a ventriloquist, mister?” wondered one of the other boys. “Proper!”
“Yeah, show us, mister!”
Besieged by requests, Ross Ed could do naught but comply. Besides, it allowed him to ignore the troop leader’s more pointed queries.
“Go ahead, Vegas Ed.” A smirking Caroline urged him on. “Show ’em your stuff.” Once again she trained her penetrating smile on the still-hesitant leader. “I don’t suppose you boys would have anything to eat or drink?”
Instantly she was offered half-full canteens, fruit juice, power bars, tropical chocolate, cookies, marshmallow munchies, trail mix, and in one instance, piroshki.
The leader was dubious. “We can’t hang around here, guys. We’re supposed to be back on the rim by daybreak.”
“Don’t sweat it, Mark.” The second oldest had hopped down off the rocks and was bending over to stare at Jed. “Dude, it looks like some kind of alien.”
Ross Ed artfully stepped between them. “Don’t touch him. He’s … the work is pretty delicate and he needs some repairs.” He hefted the pack in both arms.
“What’s his name?” someone asked as they started up. Caroline regretfully bade the beautiful pocket beach good-bye.
“Jed.” Reaching down, Ross took one of the three limp arms and made waving motions with it. “Say hi, Jed.” His alien voice complied.
“Cool!” Two of the youngest boys flanked the Texan on either side, gazing wide-eyed at his burden. They seemed to flow over the rocks, not missing a step.
Ten feet above the beach they struck a narrow trail. In their exhaustive attempts to hike upstream, Ross Ed and Caroline had missed it completely in the dark.
“There are lots of side trails down here,” the leader explained. “Most of them just parallel the river for a short distance. You have to know where you’re going.”
Caroline put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you know the best and fastest way up.” By this time their guide had completely forgotten about the incongruousness of finding a ventriloquist’s dummy at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and his inquiry was not repealed.
“Come on, mister, make him talk some more.” The kids were persistent.
Ross Ed sighed. He hadn’t done this since El Paso, but the routine came back to him effortlessly.
“All right,” the alien shape seemed to say, “what would you scouts like to know?”
One of the boys frowned. “His lips didn’t move. Hey, mister, how come his lips don’t move when you make him ‘talk’?”
“That’s easy,” Ross replied. “If you’ll look closely, you’ll see that he hasn’t got any lips.” He tilted Jed toward the questioner.
“See, kid?”
“Jed” said. “Ain’t got no lips. No external flesh flaps framing the oral cavity. Can’t blow no trumpet. Call it an evolutionary retreat from peripheral prehensibility.” The boy’s face screwed up in an expression of uncertainly.
