Book of Resolutions

Chapter 8

AUGUST

The beginning of August brought the beginning of an argument.

"We never ACTUALLY went camping, Lou."

"How short is your memory, Ben?"

"That was just an—an awkward convergence of events."

"BEN! Do you remember how much calamine we used?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Er...that was, uhm—unfortunate, but..."

"There is NO mystery anymore, Ben. Not after I put calamine on your, er..."

"But I couldn't reach..."

"Didn't you SEE the poison oak?"

"I think it was poison sumac...now be fair, Lou! I had to dress YOUR wounds every day when you hurt your..."

"It was NOT the same!"

"No, it wasn't. You know Lou, you still have a very nice...come here a minute..."

"No Sir! None of THAT! And, NO camping!"

"But Lou..."

"For future reference, I INSIST upon an indoor toilet upon EVERY occasion of life!"

"But there are toilets at the..."

"NO. I absolutely, positively REFUSE to camp at a place where there are communal toilets and showers!"

"But I didn't get to do my July thing!"

"You're not suggesting that disaster was MY idea?"

"How about a compromise?"

I was suspicious. "Whatcha got in mind?"

"A camper."

"A camper?"

"Yeah—picture it with me, Lou."

We were in the kitchen, discussing our August project. Ben came and turned me away from the cake I was frosting. He put his arm around me, made a gesture with one hand, stared off into the distance and, once again invited me to share the vision.

"You and me, Lou, and the open road. I can see it now: we'll stop at a charming, hometown diner for a meat and three. No beans from a can; no cooking. We'll get back in the camper, trailing slowly along virgin paths. We'll find the perfect place: a few pine trees, a sloping hillside, a gentle breeze. We'll stop and make camp. There'll be a lake—over there!"

He pointed. I peered past the basket of laundry on the table, off into a magical sunset over the lake. Ben kept talking and pointing.

"We'll watch the sunset over the water; you and me and the thousand colors of a perfect sky. The evening star will appear..." he pointed out the evening star, just over there, by that cobweb I had missed. "We'll make a wish, Lou: we'll wish that every day could end with that magic, that bliss." I could feel the cool breeze; I could see the fish jump down at the lake.

Ben turned me so that he could look into my eyes, which were dreamy with the mists of the vision. "We'll go inside then, Lou, to our own private, air-conditioned camper. Just you and me. Think of it! I'll hold you, like this."

This idea was sounding better by the minute. "Then, we'll play some music; Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. Maybe we'll dance, there, in the dark." He pulled me close with one arm and began to shuffle in a slow dance step, inviting me to join him as he tenderly touched my face with his other hand. My knees felt weak. He stroked my cheek with a feather-light touch. "It'll be like a second honeymoon, Lou. We'll sleep in a nice bed and wake up and have coffee as we watch the sun rise over the water..."