Desert Explorer

Dad came home one day and said, “Pack your bag. Make sure you pack your boots.”
Mom and Dad had met some people in town. Actually a mutual friend pointed them out and they got to talking. 
Ms Ruby and John, who she took care of, were living on a ranch north of Van Horn. They wanted help from a young girl who could help them for a month or so. 
I got the job. 
I packed my Mom’s old suitcase with summer clothes, blue jeans, and all the other things I knew I would need. 
Pretty soon, my brothers ran to the livingroom window when a Jeep pulled into our driveway. Out hopped a lady. 
Ruby was shorter than my mom. She was also older. She wore a bandanna wrapped around her ponytail and her hair was a burnt red...that color you can see the red in it but it’s mixed in with brown. It was slightly wind blown and escapees wreathed her face like a halo. Her eyes were a dark green and you could see the fine lines around them that time had etched. 

She had a ready grin and her lips were surrounded with smile creases...and when she smiled, her eyes crinkled close. 
She walked up to me and extended her hand. I took her hand and shook it. Her palms were rough and her fingers were ink stained. 
“Hi Terri. I’m Ms Ruby and I’ve heard so much about you from Father Garcia and your Mom and Dad. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
She turned to my Mom and Dad and they spoke a little while. The whole time, Ms Ruby’s hands were moving nonstop. In fact, it looked like a dance accompanied her conversation. I would come to find out she was always this animated. 
She motioned me over. Mom and Dad gave me hugs and my brothers crowded around to make sure they were included. Dad picked up my suitcase and found room amidst the groceries in the Jeep. 
And off we went. 
It was a wild ride. The wind rattled through the plastic side windows. And the engine competed with it’s own cacophony of mini roars and gears grinding as Ms Ruby made her way through them. 
“She said, “Hold on! The ride is going to get rough. We need to get across the creek before it fills up. It’s been raining in the mountains all day and I have a feeling it’s going to hit soon.”
I nodded my head in agreement...though honestly I had no idea what “It” was. 
We headed north out of Van Horn on Hwy 54. I looked out the windows and watched the desert fly by. One mile turned into many miles. 
“Maybe I’ll get to see a coyote,” I thought. 
“I wonder if there’s arrowheads on the ranch where I’m going.”
“What kind of work am I expected to do?”
“Will I get my own room?”
“Can I go exploring?”
All of these thoughts and so much more ran around in my head. The unknown was before me. 
Pretty soon after we crossed Sulpher Creek, we turned left off of 54 and headed on a dirt road. We came up to a gate and Ms Ruby hopped out and opened it, moved the Jeep, and then closed it behind us. 
“There’s livestock out here,” she said. “We don’t want to let them out.”
The road got rougher the further we went. 
We stopped at the banks of a dry creek bed, I think Sulpher Creek again. Ms Ruby got out and motioned me to join her. 
She said,” listen! Do you hear anything?”
I listened hard, but could only hear the sound of my heart, bird song in the distance, and the ever present desert wind. I shook my head no. My braids flopped back and forth. 
We got back in the Jeep and slowly made our way across the rocky bed. We pulled up on the opposite bank and drove to the top and stopped. 
All of a sudden I heard a roar from behind us. My heart skipped a beat and I sucked in my breath and looked at Ms Ruby. She smiled reassuringly and said,” We made it. Let’s go look.”
As we stood by the back bumper of our Jeep, an angry brown River of water swept down what had been a dry creek bed. Small geysers flew into the air as rocks submerged were impacted by the roaring rapids. White foam danced around in the waves. Occasionally, a small tree would float by. 
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get to the ranch house.”
I figured out what “It” was. 
At the ranch house, I helped her unload the groceries and load them onto a small wagon. A wheelchair ramp made it easy to pull the wagon to the porch and then into the house. 
As my eyes adjusted, I realized there was a hospital bed in what would normally be the breakfast area. In the bed laying quietly but with a big grin, was a young man with a beard. 
He had curly, light brown hair and bright blue eyes. His hands lay at his sides. 
“He said, “welcome to home for the next month. I’m John and am so pleased to finally meet you.”
“How come they knew about me but I didn’t know about them?”, I thought. 
John, I later found out was a quadriplegic. He had been injured at the age of 17 when he dove into a quarry and hit his head on a submerged rock. It broke his back...but it didn’t break him. He and Ms Ruby met when he was 20 and she was visiting her son in the hospital. 
She noticed no one ever visited John and realized he needed someone to care for him. They talked, and had now been traveling around the country in a converted bus for 15 years. 
That summer I learned a lot about myself. I learned compassion from Ms Ruby. I learned how to have a sense of humor even when you couldn’t move and things looked bad. 
I also learned how to hold a chicken and pet it like a dog. I learned to not go hiking in the desert after a rainstorm because tarantulas will migrate in large groups from one place to another. 
I hiked stream beds. Found fresh springs and enjoyed the cool water that was good for sore feet and thirsty mouths...but not in that order. 
I learned that 100 year old dynamite was still active, even after being washed downstream from a silver mine. It’s one sure way to freak out adults. And that silver slag was just as interesting today as it was the day it was melted away from the silver ore. 
I learned how to make pecan pancakes from scratch and to enjoy a pear salad with a little bit of rat trap cheese on top. 
But one of the best things I learned was how to use my imagination and tell stories. Every night after supper we would take turns and come up with a new story. I love how these two adults, so recently strangers but no more, listened to a 9 year old girl and applauded at the end of my story. 
Every kid should have the opportunity to spin a yarn. 
And yes, I found arrowheads, and minerals, and rocks. I did explore...never was able to hike all the way to the Beach Mountains, but that’s ok. And I heard coyotes every night as they serenaded me to sleep. 
I grew up a little bit that summer. But in a good way. In a wisdom way. 
I never saw Ms Ruby or John again. But to this day as I pass by a school bus converted to a Motor Home, I do look.