CHAPTER THREE
Here we are, riding in an SUV made in Korea, Jack thought. Look at us: two Shoshone kids; my mom, whose four grandparents came from Italy; my dad, with a Norwegian mother and a father who could have been from anywhere, whoever he was—my dad never knew him—and us, Ashley and me. I guess this mixed-up carload is about as American as you can get.
“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Ashley asked him.
“Nothing. Just where things came from.” Stretching his arms, Jack asked, “Hey, Ashley, do you know what they first named this park, before they changed it to Zion?”
“I don’t know,” Ashley shrugged. “What?”
“It was Mukuntuweap National Monument, in 1909. It didn’t get named ‘Zion’ until 1919.”
Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Mukuntuweap? Did I say it right? What a weird name.”
“It’s Indian,” Ethan told her. He pulled his eyes away from the window long enough to say, “This used to be Paiute land. They hunted here. This land was taken from them, just like Yellowstone was taken from us. But their spirits are still here.”
“Oh,” Ashley answered, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Well, anyway, it sure is pretty around here, no matter what the name is.” Ethan grunted and looked back out his window, pressing his forehead into the glass.
They’d rented the sport utility vehicle at the airport in St. George, Utah. Now, as they approached Zion, the flat, sandy earth changed into spires of red rock that brushed the sky like enormous statues. Eons of upheaval and erosion had molded the Navajo sandstone into strange rock formations, here rounded from wind and rain, there transformed into snaggletoothed summits that seemed to bite the clouds. As they neared the park, red rock monoliths rose up into the sky, so tall that even when he craned his neck, Jack couldn’t see their tops.
“OK, stay on this road until we come to Zion Lodge, which is right in the canyon,” Olivia told Steven as she peered at the map. “The park has booked us into three connecting rooms. Isn’t that great? We get to stay in the same building where I’m giving my lecture!”
“I never knew marrying a wildlife veterinarian would buy me a ticket into so many wonderful places,” Steven told her. “I just hope you won’t be giving your talk in a room with a big window. I mean, who would want to listen to a speech on animal pinkeye when there’s this kind of beauty all around?”
“Excuse me?” Olivia cocked her head toward her husband. “Are you saying you don’t find my topic fascinating?”
“Hmmm. Pinkeye in the deer population. I couldn’t sleep all last night just thinking about it.” Steven, who had a large, lopsided grin on his face, stole a quick glance at Olivia.
“Steven Landon, you know my lecture isn’t on pinkeye—pinkeye is just one example I’m using to show how the different branches of the government handle their animal problems. For instance, Zion won’t treat the pinkeye in their deer, since it’s national park policy not to interfere with a naturally occurring disease. The Bureau of Land Management, on the other hand, treats pinkeye with antibiotics…”
“My mom is a wildlife veterinarian,” Ashley whispered to Summer, who was sitting beside her in the very back of the SUV. “She helps rangers if there’s a problem about park animals. Lots of times we get to go with her to national parks all over the country. We’ve seen wolves and manatees and grizzlies and cougars and all kinds of stuff. It’s really cool.”
Summer nodded quietly, her eyes wide. “Are they fighting?”
Ashley answered, “Fighting? You mean my mom and dad? No!”
Jack turned in his seat to explain, “Dad just likes to give Mom a hard time. They tease each other, you know?”
Summer looked puzzled.
“…so it’s very important to grasp the different approaches.” Olivia bit the side of her lip and said, “Tell me the truth, Steven, is it boring?”
Steven answered, “Nah. I promise, it’s riveting!”
“I don’t know why you have to be such a brat,” Olivia told him, punching his arm.
“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” Steven replied with a laugh.
Funny, Jack thought. He knew his parents well enough to tell when they were kidding, but Summer and Ethan didn’t seem to grasp that kind of banter. Had their grandmother ever joked with them? Had she taken them out to ball games or to movies or to do any of the thousand things Jack took for granted? What was their life like on the Wind River Reservation? He was about to ask them when his mother exclaimed, “Look at these canyon walls! The map says they’re just 2,000 feet from here to the tops, but they look much higher.”
“Yeah,” Steven told them, “and this skinny little Virgin River we’re driving along sliced right through that solid rock to make the canyon. Like a hot knife through butter. Only it was not just water, but the particles of rock in the water that kind of scoured it out. Did you know a million tons of sand and rock get swept out of this canyon every year? And it only took a couple hundred thousand years for all this to happen.”
“How about the next couple hundred thousand years?” Ashley called out. “What’ll happen to it then?”
“Don’t know. You check it out when you get there and send me a postcard, OK?” Steven joked.
“Ha ha, very funny, Dad. Like I’ll still be here in the year 200,000!”
“Give or take a few centuries,” he quipped. “What about you, Ethan? Summer? What are your plans for the year 200,000?”
Summer and Ethan didn’t even smile. They just stared at the sheer walls of rust-colored sandstone that rose like skyscrapers on both sides of the road. It was as though the Landons were speaking a language the Ingawanup kids didn’t understand.
As they swung around a bend, Steven slowed to a stop. A barricade blocked the road that led to the lodge; beside it, a park ranger in uniform was holding up his hand in a “halt” signal.
“What’s happening?” Ashley asked.
“We’ll find out, as soon as I can figure out how to open this window.” Steven fumbled with the unfamiliar buttons on the inside of his door until he hit the one that controlled the windows. All four windows rolled down at the same time.
The ranger, so tall that he had to bend forward to reach eye level with Steven, said, “You’ll have to turn back, sir.”
“What’s the problem?” Steven questioned.
“A horse got loose up there.” The ranger gestured toward the lodge.
Olivia leaned over to ask, “You mean one of the horses from a guided tour group?”
“No, ma’am, this is a wild mustang, and I do mean wild. It’s been kicking up a storm. We’re afraid someone might get hurt if they get in the way of the capture, so we’ve asked the lodge guests to stay inside till the horse gets caught. Also, we’re trying to keep vehicles out of the parking lot.”
“How on earth did a wild mustang get into Zion?” Olivia asked. “There aren’t any wild herds anywhere near the park, are there?”
“No ma’am. But this horse broke out of a trailer, and it ran pell-mell up the canyon till it got here between the lodge and the river. We have some guys out there trying to catch it, but so far no luck.”
“Can we watch?” Ashley asked eagerly, but her mother hushed her.
“I’m a wildlife veterinarian,” Olivia said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d be glad to. What about darting it with a tranquilizer?”
Smiling back at her, the ranger said, “I bet you’re