Big Bend Adventure
BIG BEND ADVENTURE
Copyright 2012 by Narlen and Eveline Evans
Some of the characters in this story are real, most are imaginary. The places used as settings for the scenes in this book are real although anything that we described as happening there is imaginary. We have actually Volksmarched the trails in Big Bend that we described in this story. Our Volksmarching pictures may be viewed at
This book was written strictly to entertain, so I hope you enjoy it. If it makes you wonder about the sport of Volksmarching you can learn more at https://www.ava.org
Family Tree
PROLOGUE
Clifford sat holding Ruby’s hand on the back patio of their home. It was her 60th birthday but she was totally unaware. Alzheimer’s had stolen his wife’s mind. She was still beautiful to look at. Her short silver hair was done in a pretty coiffure by one of her nurses. Her body was still slim and athletic, her carriage erect; but her once beautiful sparkling blue eyes were vacant, as she stared off into space. What she saw remained a mystery because she rarely spoke except to say she was hungry or thirsty.
Clifford stood, tugged on Ruby’s hand and gently coaxed his wife to rise. She stood up willingly enough. He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and stepped slowly off the patio. She strolled beside him for a short walk around the brick garden path. The path he’d lovely created for her led them through the rose bushes that she had tended so lovingly, but today she never noticed how abundantly they were blooming.
As they walked Clifford reflected on their 42 years together. After their children were grown and gone they’d discovered the joy of Volksmarching and had spent many happy hours walking trails and exploring city streets together. He missed having her with him, although he still did an event now and then with his grandson Garnet.
His thoughts drifted back as he tried to pinpoint when Ruby had first started forgetting things. He remembered the horrible day when Doctor had given them the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s and Ruby knew for sure that she would be slowly slipping into oblivion.
As they continued to stroll in the warm sunlight his thoughts continued to drift. He remembered their last trip. His wife had wanted to hike Big Bend while she was still able. They had hiked again their favorite trails in the national park. Trails which they had first done as Volksmarches. On this trip they were had hiked alone.
This last trip had a purpose. Ruby had come up with the idea of creating a treasure hunt for their six grandchildren. An event the kids would do after she passed away. Ruby’s favorite movie had been National Treasures and she wanted their grandchildren to hunt for treasure in order to receive their inheritance from her when she died. So they had hidden caches on each of the six trails they hiked.
Before they had headed out to Big Bend, Clifford and Ruby had traveled to their bank in town and set up a trust fund for each of their grandchildren.
“We don’t know how to contact two of them,” Clifford had explained to the Bank Trust Officer. “Our son, Phillip, was married twice and both marriages ended in divorce. He has a daughter from each marriage. We tried to contact them at the time of his death, but the address information we had wasn’t good any more. We searched through his files but we could find no records of his paying child support to either wife. So we have no contact information for those two grandchildren.”
“I’ll be happy to help you with that,” the Trust Officer told them. “We’ve had to use a PI before to find people. It won’t be a problem at all.”
Upon returning from the hiking trip at Big Bend, they had purchased six scrapbooks and started creating the story of their lives for their six grandchildren. Clifford had helped Ruby sort through pictures to put into the six albums and they had made several trips to Walmart to have copies made of photos that Ruby thought should be included in every album.
The activity seemed to have slowed her memory loss for awhile as did the drugs her doctor prescribed but in the end it had been a losing battle.
Clifford and Ruby’s daughter, Roberta, her husband William and their two children Flint and Crystal had driven up from San Antonio when Ruby was hospitalized with pneumonia. They were staying at the home place with Clifford. They were there to help him through the funeral arrangements when Ruby didn’t recover.
Roberta sat out on the back patio that overlooked her Mom’s rose garden. She reflected on her kids. Flint her firstborn was an independent 18 year old high school senior. She would miss him when he left for college next spring. She knew he was looking forward to going off to college where he planned to study graphic art.
Thankfully her daughter Crystal would be around for a couple more years. Roberta dreaded the empty nest that would soon be her future. But she didn’t have to worry about that just yet. Crystal was just a sophomore and she kept everyone busy with her gymnastics and cheerleading activities.
Roberta thoughts moved on to her brother, Phillip’s ex-wives. She’d been the one who taken care of purchasing their airplane tickets and typing up the letters about Ruby’s death. She hoped that the addresses the bank’s PI had provided was current.
Her gaze focused on the beautiful roses in the garden. She could visualize her mother working there with pruning clippers. Now a lawn service came once a week to tend to the garden.
Her eyes shifted from the roses to the roadway beyond. She was looking for her other brother’s car. Richard, his wife Alice, and their son Mica could arrive at any time. She’d called Richard to let him know of their mother’s passing. He and his family were driving in from El Paso and should have already arrived. The roadway remained vacant.
Her mind returned to fond memories of growing up in this house with her two brothers and her sister. Her parents only owned a couple of acres, but a small creek ran along the edge of it with lots of trees. It had been a grand place to grow up.
She brushed away tears. She didn’t want her father to catch her crying. It was hard to fathom that her sister, Stephanie, and her brother, Phillip, had both passed away in violent crashes. Stephanie in a car accident on a rain slick road, Phillip in a Blackhawk helicopter crash. And now her mother had gone on to join them.
Her dead sister’s husband, Myron, and their son Garnet lived nearby and were at the house visiting. Roberta liked Garnet. He was a well-rounded 15 year old. He was on his school’s soccer team and he spent lots of time volksmarching with his grandparents. Unlike so many teens now days, he treated adults with respect.
The sliding patio door made a soft scraping noise and Myron walked out to join her on the patio. He sat down in a rocker and took in the view.
“Where is Garnet?” Roberta asked after her nephew’s activities.
“He’s in the house watching a movie with Flint and Crystal,” Myron replied running his hand over his balding head. “I didn’t see Clifford or William when I came through.”
“They are in Dad’s room. William is trying to distract Dad. Get his mind off the funeral,” Roberta replied. “I think he’s letting Dad show him the scrapbooks that he and Mom made up for the grandkids last year. The albums are really nice. Have you seen them yet?”
“Yes, I actually helped make them up. I went through our photo albums and copied some of Stephanie’s pictures for the books. We had pictures of Clifford and Ruby with Mica and with your two children that fit right in.”
“It will be nice getting to meet Mica now that he is all grown up. I think it’s been four-five years since we saw them. The last time I saw Mica he was all knees and elbows.”
“Let me think. Mica is a year younger than Flint so that means he’s 17 and should be a junior in high school,” Roberta commented.
“How did
you track down Phillip’s two ex's?” he asked.
“I didn’t. The Trust Officer at the bank hired a PI to find them. I asked him to let me write the letter requesting them to come to the funeral.”
“Do you think they will show up with their kids? They were both girls if I remember right, but I don’t recall their names.”
“Amber and Opal,” Roberta supplied. “It will be a treat to get to meet them too. I explained in the letter that their daughters needed to be here for the reading of the will. I hope the ex-wives don’t make a scene. That’s all we need, is for them to get into a cat fight at the funeral or the lawyer’s office during the reading of the will.”
“There shouldn’t be any problem. Carol wasn’t the woman the broke up Richard and Margie. If I remember right it was a buxom blonde named Patty.”
“You’re right,” Robert agreed with a rueful grin. “Richard had the morals of a tomcat!”
Margie Warren and her daughter Amber arrived at the Midland-Odessa Airport in plenty of time to catch their flight to San Angelo. She had been surprised to receive a Fed-Ex package with plane tickets, a funeral notice for her former mother-in-law, and a letter explaining that Amber’s presence would be needed for the reading of the will.
It had been twelve long years since she’d heard a peep from the Warren family. She’d seen the news ten years previously about the Blackhawk helicopter crash that killed her ex-husband. He had been flying it while on a training mission at Goodfellow Airforce Base. She didn’t hide anything from her daughter, so she’d told her about her father’s death. Neither had wanted to attend his funeral.
Yes, this letter had come as a complete surprise. She vaguely remembered her former Mother-in-Law, Ruby, as a sweet person who had welcomed her as a member of the family. Ruby and Clifford had been at the wedding and she’d visited with them again at the hospital when Amber’s was born. She had pictures of them holding Amber in the photo album.
Her in-laws had come to visit several times during the two years the marriage had lasted. It was Margie who had cut the family ties. She was very bitter that Phillip had left her for another woman and she wanted nothing to do with anyone from his family.
She was a well paid advertising executive and she’d told Phillip at the time of the divorce that if he’d agreed to give up his custody rights she wouldn’t request child support. Phillip had happily given up his rights to his two year old daughter and moved on. Margie had moved and left no forwarding address. She wanted to make it plain to Phillip’s parents that she didn’t want contact with them either.
Margie and Amber made their way through check-in and continued on to the American Eagle gate. They placed their carry-on bags in some empty chairs. Amber quickly got bored waiting and wandered off to look in the shops nearby. Margie looked up from checking her text messages to see her daughter talking to a woman near a coffee shop.
“Why is Amber holding that woman’s carry-on?” she thought scowling at the stranger. She did a double when she saw Amber walking toward her.
As Amber took her seat, her mother patted her hand to get her attention and silently pointed at what appeared to be her twin standing by the coffee shop.
The girl’s back was to them but her hair was brown and covered her shoulder blades just like Ambers. She was dressed in jeans with rhinestones on the pocket similar to Amber’s jeans. She was wearing a bright pink tank top that hugged her slim figure.
Amber glanced down, her shirt was a near match to the other girls. The carryon bag the other girl held was an exact duplicate of the one that set in the chair next to Amber.
The travelers turned and started walking toward the American Eagle gate where they sat. Margie and Amber were amazed to see that the girl could indeed have been Amber’s twin. Margie with a moment of insight realized who the girl might be. She quickly rose and walked toward them.
“Excuse me,” Margie said, accosting the woman. “Your daughter looks like a twin to my daughter.” She directed their attention to her daughter sitting nearby. “You must be Phillip Warren’s widow.”
After a startled look at Amber the woman glanced back at her own daughter and tried to take in what Margie had just said. Amber was anxious to know what was happening so she jumped up and quickly joined them.
“Uhmm no. Actually, I was divorced from him long before the accident,” the woman responded with a frown. Her eyes lit up and her frown disappeared as she realized who she was talking to.
“You must be his first wife, Margie! I’m Carol Warren and this is my daughter Opal.”
“Yes, I’m Margie and this is my daughter Amber,” Margie smiled at the woman as she introduced herself. “Please come sit with us,” she invited. “You’re headed to San Angelo for the funeral so you must be on the same flight we are.”
“I assume you received a Fed-Ex package with the funeral information and invitation to the reading of the will?” she continued as she led the way back to the waiting area in front of the gate.
Seated across from each other the two families of Phillip Warren became acquainted and they learned they only lived twenty miles apart. Carol told about living in Odessa and Margie told about Midland.
The girls hit it off immediately. As they discussed their schools and hobbies they discovered they were both artistic. Amber displayed her ability though her drawings and watercolors. Opal’s artistic ability was in music. She played piano, both classical and modern.
Other than a small difference in height it was not readily apparent that there was two years age difference between the girls. It was amazing that they had the same taste in clothing. They were both pleased to find out they had a sister and quickly exchanged email addresses, phone numbers and other means of keeping in contact. Now that they had found each other they were not going to chance losing each other again.
In spite of his sorrow over Ruby’s death, Clifford was excited to be meeting the grandchildren he hadn’t seen in at least ten years. Myron had offered to pick up Margie and Carol Warren and the two girls but Clifford wanted to greet them personally. He parked his Dodge Caravan and hurried into the airport to await the arrival of the flight from Midland/Odessa.
When the passengers came through the tunnel he eagerly scanned the crowd and quickly picked out Margie. She hadn’t changed and was still a lovely woman. Directly behind her was a set of teenage girls and then he spotted Carol bringing up the rear.
“She hasn’t changed much either,” he thought as he eagerly waved to get their attention. “But where are the little girls?”
He stood there as the two women approached followed by the giggling and talking twins. He couldn’t help himself; he started to cry when the teenagers eagerly dropped their carry-ons and rushed to hug him. He hugged them back and then self-consciously wiped the corner of his eyes to dry the tears.
Smiling broadly he said eagerly, “Why you are such grownup young ladies! Which one is Amber, and which one is Opal?”
The girls quickly identified themselves and told him which woman was their mother. He shook hands with Margie and Carol and took their bags. He led the way out to the van as the girls danced along in front of them.
He looked questioningly at his former daughters-in-law. Margie hastened to explain.
“We only met for the first time today at the airport. We’ve never met before. The girls startled us too, looking so much alike. We were amazed that they had chosen almost duplicate outfits. Isn’t it amazing that they both have long hair. Their tastes are so alike it is kind of scary.”
“When they are together I’ll be able to tell which one is Amber because she is taller, but when they’re apart I won’t know which one I’m talking to.”
“I’m your Grandfather,” he told them as they drove away from the airport. “I would like it very much if you’d call me Grandpa or Granddad!”
“Would one of you like to volunteer to get your hair cut today so I can tell
you apart?” Clifford jokingly asked the girls.
“I’ve been telling Mom I wanted to get a tattoo,” Amber joked back, giving her Mom a sly wink. “Maybe you can talk her into letting me get one!”
“No way, young lady!” her Mom replied sternly.
The “twins” caused quite a stir when they arrived at the house. The other teens welcomed them warmly and they went off together. Clifford had booked rooms at a nearby hotel for them but he wanted them to stay for dinner before going there.
“Richard, Alice, and Mica should be arriving shortly,” Roberta told Margie and Carol as she greeted them and told them to make themselves at home.
“How old is Mica?” Margie asked.
“He’s seventeen,” Roberta told her. She shaded her eyes with her hand and nodded her head.
“That should be them now.” She pointed at a car pulling into the driveway.
Clifford eagerly led the way as everyone went out to greet the new arrivals. Margie and Carol hung back to give them some privacy. After hugs and kisses were exchanged all round, Clifford brought the new arrivals over and introduced them to the two women.
Myron noticed Mica standing there uncertainly. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you were the rest of the kids are and introduce you.”
Mica at 17 was quiet and shy. His only friends were the four members of his band back home. Although he was a good guitar player, he didn’t participate in the singing because of his stutter. Meeting all these strangers, relatives or not, was pure torture.
Mica followed Myron into the den where a Harry Potter movie was playing on a big screen TV.
“Hey everyone,” Myron said. “This is Mica.”
“Mica, this is Flint and Crystal,” Myron said pointing them out. “They are brother and sister. These two are not twins, though they are sisters. This is Amber and Opal. And this handsome young man is my son, Garnet.”
The kids each waved when their name was mentioned to acknowledge the introduction.