Page 38 of The Harvey Girls

“Those who have long and carefully studied the Grand Canyon of the Colorado do not hesitate for a moment to pronounce it by far the most sublime of all earthly spectacles.”

The Colosseum in Rome! she wanted to yell at old George Wharton James. The pyramids of Egypt! How he could so smugly deem that big crack in the earth more sublime than these was beyond her.

Then she came to a sentence that stopped her cold. Commenting that if one were to throw a rock over the edge, the sheer depth of the canyon meant that no sound reverberated back, James proclaimed it “the grave of the world.”

She tossed the book on the floor and left the room.

“What do your parents think about you working here?” Charlotte asked Ruth in the Hopi House a few minutes later. She often found herself there when life became dull or upsetting. The beautiful objects soothed her, and Ruth was always good company.

There was a lull in customers and Ruth was refolding blankets that had been unfurled, admired, and discarded by the last gaggle of tourists.

The young woman sighed. “My mother is happy. She is a potter.” Ruth picked up a low, wide bowl of blond-colored clay with a band of black geometric designs around the rim.

“This is one of hers. Sometimes she comes here and makes pots while the people watch her. She’s proud of her work.

Also, she likes the money she makes, and the money I make working here.

Life can be hard in the villages if the harvest isn’t good. ”

“And your father?”

“He does not like the way the white people have taken over this land that is sacred to us, how they have thrust their way in and changed our ways with their cars and food and… well, everything. It is not good for our spirit as a people.”

“And what do you think?”

Ruth ran her fingers over her mother’s bowl. “I work here. I sell my mother’s work. And then I go home and try to be my father’s daughter.”

A few days later, when they both had a day off, Robert met Billie in front of her dorm to go on the hike he’d promised her.

“We’ll follow the South Rim Trail out to Mather Point,” he said. “It’s only a couple of miles and it’s quite flat.”

Billie was disappointed. She’d hoped they’d take one of the steep trails down into the canyon. She’d been here almost a month and looked at it an awful lot, but she hadn’t really experienced it. She wanted to touch those wide stripes of stone all the way down, back to the dinosaur age.

Robert clearly had no such adventure in mind. He was in regular clothes—dark trousers and a blue cotton button-down shirt—and he was carrying a picnic basket. Maybe it was too heavy for him to lug down and back up again.

They chatted amiably as they walked. Robert was a friendly, upbeat fellow. He was as enthusiastic about the Grand Canyon National Park as he’d been about dancing, and he was very proud to be a member of the Park Service. He told her all about his plans to advance to a park supervisor one day.

“Maybe not here,” he said. “Grand Canyon, well, she’s a doozy. You might have to be a rich man’s son or have gone to Harvard or both to rise that high. But maybe one of the less busy ones, like Zion.”

Billie was fascinated. Her maw had wanted her to see the world, and here Robert had all kinds of plans to do so. She marveled at his bravery to sally forth wherever he chose. They were having a marvelous time. And to think, Charlotte had tried to keep her from going.

“Why on earth shouldn’t I go?” Billie had said. “He seems like a nice enough fellow, and we’re only taking a walk.” She felt the need to toss in, “Besides, you’re not my mother.”

“You have no idea what young men are capable of.”

“Of course I do! Do you think my real maw didn’t tell me about girls going off in cars with boys at night, and then a couple months later, there’s Maw taking out the seams on their dresses?

But Robert and I aren’t going out at night, and he’s not driving me to some lonesome place where no one can hear me if I scream.

We’re walking in broad daylight on the most traveled path in the whole darn park! ”

Billie could tell she was making her point, but Charlotte wasn’t ready to let it go. “He could pull you off into the bushes.”

“You’re right, he could. And a masked man could come into the restaurant in the middle of the lunch rush and drag me away at gunpoint.”

Charlotte huffed a sigh. “Does he know how old you are?”

“No, of course not.”

“Okay, then please promise me you’ll act like a woman of the world who knows better than to be taken advantage of.”

“Fine, I’ll act like—” Billie was about to say you . But then she remembered that Charlotte, for all her worldly college-girl wisdom, had been taken advantage of quite ruthlessly. “—Mae West!” She put her hands on her hips, arched an eyebrow, and grinned sultrily.

This had made the taciturn Charlotte burst out laughing. “Oh dear,” she said, “now I know we’re in trouble.”

Mather Point was an open promontory of rock that thrust out into the canyon, and Billie felt both awestruck by the beauty of it and also a little woozy at how a few steps in the wrong direction would mean the end of her.

“It’s ten miles across to the North Rim over there,” said Robert. “And a mile down to the Colorado River.” Billie could see it far below, like a garter snake winding its way through the rocks. She stared in silence, barely able to take it all in.

“I hope I’m not talking too much,” Robert said suddenly. “It’s my job to know all these things and to tell people about them, but I don’t mean to sound like some wrinkled old professor.”

“Not at all. It’s like having a private tour guide.”

Robert gave a little sigh of relief. “Sometimes I get excited about things, and I don’t stop to take a breath.”

“My brother Ian is like that. Maw says he’s in love with the whole world.”

“You have a brother?”

“I have four, and four sisters, too.”

“Gosh, that’s even more than me!”

Robert, as it turned out, was the youngest of seven.

He was from Barstow, California (“We have a Harvey House there, too—it’s huge!

”), and his family owned a small orange grove.

He joked that they were the stickiest family in town.

He told her stories about being an altar boy with his older brothers.

One time he tripped over his robe during the holy consecration and went sprawling.

His oldest brother started to chuckle, and that set off his middle brother, and the more they tried to stop, the harder they laughed.

“Father Marchand got so mad, he practically threw the chalice at us!”

Robert was fun and funny, and their afternoon together flew by.

He was also twenty-four years old, a full nine years her senior.

Charlotte isn’t going to like this one bit was Billie’s first thought. But this wasn’t a date; they were only having a picnic and being friendly. Besides, who cared what Charlotte thought?

As they walked back toward Grand Canyon Village, the wind picked up and eddied around them with the scent of juniper trees and sage brush and an earthy smell that wasn’t quite like Nebraska but felt familiar all the same.

It was May 26; Billie had been here almost a month.

She didn’t know how long it took to get accustomed to a new place.

It would never be home, but it was where she lived for now, and she was strangely happy about that.

Robert walked her to the dorm entrance, and for the first time in three hours neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thanks for a nice lunch,” Billie offered.

“I hope I didn’t talk your head off.”

She tapped her temple. “Still firmly attached.”

“Would you… do you think you might… want to get together again sometime?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

“Okay!”

“You know where to find me. I’ll be right here at the—”

“Dorm! Yes, good.”

“Thanks again.”

“Thank you!” He nodded and grinned his big grin, then he hurried off.

When Billie went in, Charlotte was sitting in the parlor with that book she’d left lying around their room. But she wasn’t reading; she was pressing her lips together to keep from smiling.

“What are you smirking at?” demanded Billie.

Charlotte glanced pointedly toward the front windows, one of which was open.

“We actually had a very nice time! It only got awkward at the end.”

“And did he ask your age?”

“Thankfully not.”

“Good.” Charlotte lowered her book to her lap. “Was he well-behaved?”

“Yes, he’s very nice, and he certainly knows a lot about the canyon.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I know you hate it, but I’m interested.”

Charlotte gazed at her a moment. “I thought you still had feelings for Leif.”

Leave it to Charlotte to find trouble where there was none. “This has nothing to do with him. Robert and I are just friends, so mind your own beeswax.”