Two Medicine (12 page)

A cool and clean-smelling
air blew into my face as the doors were set wide, and I smelled a
faint aroma of pine needles and sun-warmed earth, and some grassy
and flowery smells I didn’t recognize at all. I noticed also that
outside the dusting of snow was almost all melted away.

For some reason the
coolness of the breeze caused a shock of excitement to hit me. I
felt a kind of anticipation that made me feel, for the first time,
that something good would happen in this place, and that I had done
the right thing.

“
Let’s go!” Larry called
over to me from inside the store, and I walked back towards him
with a new, confident sense of purpose. Day one of building my new
life had begun.

Ten

Not long after opening the
doors tourists and campers began to wander in through the front
doors. Customers would mill around the aisles and stare at the
fireplace. Some would buy groceries and order a random meal before
heading out into the woods to hike. I could see Katie up front
running the gifts area register, wrapping up peoples purchases in
brown paper if they were breakable, and shoving sweatshirts and
hats in paper bags. I found it unsettling to be running a cash
register in a snack shop, taking orders for burgers and salad; it
was a menial job to be sure, and I felt a little undignified. But I
reminded myself probably a dozen times that day, that it was all
for a good cause – I was getting settled in Montana. I wouldn’t
work the store forever, and I’d look for permanent work as the
summer ended, but for now I would get the lay of the land, learn
the place, and, as a part of it, hand people their huckleberry
shakes and Mountain chili tacos.

Ronnie seemed at home in
the kitchen, joking with Phyllis who I didn’t hear speak at all,
and lounging around the back porch when orders weren’t in. Larry
stayed up front with Katie in gifts, always the busiest part of the
store for most of the day. He came by to my station only twice that
first day, to count out the register.

For the most part, we
would see a tourist’s face maybe once or twice in the store, and
then never again, since the campers didn’t stay long. Most visitors
to Glacier stayed at several locations and drove all over the Park
during their trips.

We’d get locals from
Kalispell from the west (which some locals called “Cattlesmell,”
because of the vast cattle ranches) and Native Americans – the
Blackfoot – off the reservation from the East, from a little town
called Browning, which was at the heart of the reservation, about
fifteen miles from Two Medicine Valley.

The first couple of days I
stayed at the snack bar cash register, taking orders, ripping off
order tickets and walking them back to Ronnie or Katie who were
learning to cook the menu from Phyllis. As I’d done the first day,
I’d hand the food over to guests and they’d sit at the little
tables around the snack bar, or head back outside to eat somewhere
else. Then I’d ring up people buying groceries and camp supplies
near the back of the store. I learned to cook the menu eventually
too, and became pretty good at making “The Mountain,” if I do say
so myself.

Working the front register
was trickier, because for one, you’d get a lot of questions about
the park, the local flora and fauna, the mountains, the history of
the store, and a million other queries for which I had no real
answer. Ronnie told me after a while that he just started answering
“bear grass” when asked what this flower or this bush was called.
There was an actual flowering grass on the mountains called “bear
grass,” but I couldn’t argue with his simple solution.

The other reason it was
trickier is because the front of the store was, as I mentioned,
Larry’s turf; he would stalk around and re-arrange the goods,
keeping an eye scanning the customers, watching me or whoever was
working up front make change during sales, and generally just make
a nuisance of himself. Larry particularly watched the Blackfoot
Indians that would come in from Browning, casting an obvious and
awkward glare at them whenever they ventured into the store. They
were always younger people, the Blackfoot that came to visit, teens
and some in their 20s, and they mostly bought candy, CDs, sometimes
booze, or they’d get shakes at the snack bar.

One such visitor
from Browning was a girl named Alia Reynolds. I
noticed her immediately as she came in through the main doors on a
day soon after we opened. I was re-folding some shirts near the
front and noticed her glance at me as she walked in. She was small,
really pretty, and looked about eighteen or nineteen. She had
straight dark hair, of course, but also a cute little pixie face
with a slightly Asian caste. She had a little upturned nose and
large brown, slightly Oriental eyes that gave her a fairy-like,
coquettish look. She had a perfect little figure, a small frame but
with the voluptuous curviness of grown woman. Tan legs led up to
tight white shorts. She wore a black t-shirt with some rock band’s
name on it I couldn’t make out, and her hair was partly up in a
puffy bun, which revealed a little neckline with a small necklace
encircling and partly hidden by the t-shirt.

I absolutely couldn’t take
my eyes off her as she meandered around the aisles. She had come in
with a couple of other girls who went off to the snack bar, where
Ronnie was working the register. Despite my recent vow to be done
with the opposite sex for a while, I moved over to the aisle she
was at, which displayed posters and framed pictures of Two Medicine
and other parts of the Park. It had always been difficult for me to
just walk up and try to meet a girl I was attracted to – it felt so
awkward and… off. And I would always build it up to such a big
deal, too, before I would try. But with her I felt hesitation but
never considered for a moment not walking over to her – I had to be
closer.

I started arranging some
picture frames down the aisle from her, glancing over to her
clandestinely, hoping she’d need my help for something. I was at a
loss of what to say to try to break the ice, and the longer I just
stood there the harder it was becoming.

She was definitely the
most beautiful girl I had seen in a very long time. Every inch of
her attracted me, each facet of her, from her way of standing with
one foot back on its toe, to her expression that looked amused and
also skeptical. I felt physically pulled to her in a way I had
never felt before, not even with Holly, and the entire rest of the
store, the rest of the world, was distant and out of focus when I
stole glances at her.

I noticed her glance back
at me a couple times as she meandered around. It made my heart beat
faster.
Come on Will, say something damn
it.
I looked around for Larry with a sudden
fear that he was stalking her already, hidden somewhere, thinking
her a shoplifter, but he was for once nowhere in sight, thank God.
Then the thought occurred to me that she may actually
be
a shoplifter, not
because she was an Indian but because anyone
could be
– and what would I do if she
shoved some little knickknack into her shorts? Probably
nothing!
That
could be the icebreaker; I’d let her do her thing and then
it’d be “our little secret!”

But she wasn’t a
shoplifter, of course. Her and her friends were just killing time,
bored of Browning, bored of the reservation, just milling around as
they would a shopping mall.

She suddenly looked over at
me and said, “You guys have any
other
CDs?” She scrunched up her nose
a bit as she held up a John Denver CD.

Her voice was not as high
as I expected, and she had a little of the Browning accent – a mix
of Midwestern vowels and that Native American swallowing of
consonants sound. I glanced over at the CD rack, trying to think of
what she would want – our selection was more catered to older folks
and had a definite outdoor theme – classical, orchestral, acoustic
stuff. Aaron Copeland was popular, as was George Harrison and Jimmy
Buffet.

“
Not
really, that’s all the stuff the Park gets.” I stared into those
big eyes that looked up at me and I tried not to look
away
.

“It’s not bad stuff, I was
just wondering…” She looked at the CD, and then aside at the store
vaguely.

“You camping here?” I
asked her, getting a little of my calmness back. I could tell she
was a local, but didn’t want to offend her by asking if she was
from Browning, like it was a stereotypical assumption based on her
appearance.

She smirked. “No, I’m from
Browning. You aren’t from Montana, I can tell.”

“From Georgia, the south,”
I said, smiling a little.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Twenty-six.”

“Wow, ancient!”

“Thanks. You’re what…
fourteen?”

“Nineteen,” she said,
smiling coolly. We finally held each other’s gaze for a movement,
our eyes saying something to each other, better than our clunky
chit-chat could.

“What’s your name?” I
asked her.

“
Alia.”

I chatted with
her for a few more minutes, talking about where we
were from some more, telling her about the store, until Larry came
back downstairs from where he had been up on the
2
^nd
floor and began
ambling over towards us. He was scanning Alia with those big
glasses, looking at her hands to see if she was buying anything.
His simple mind operated in block letters, I imagined: GIRL.
INDIAN. PURCHASE? LOAFER? SHOPLIFTER?

Larry seemed more
guard-dog than man most days, and his presence next to such a
beautiful and interesting creature as Alia was like somebody tossed
a bloated bag of garbage onto a field of untouched, fallen
snow.

Her friends came over to
her with shakes in their hands and one for her, and then they
started pulling her away to leave. I felt relieved as least her
group had conducted some sort of purchase in the store – then I
glanced irritably at Larry as Alia walked away.

But she looked back at me
and said, “See you soon Will. Nice meeting you.”

I watched her walk out,
memorizing unconsciously her every inch of her. Her little bottom
outlined tight in her tiny shorts, the back of her stocky little
tanned legs ending in small pink shoes, her mostly-up hair falling
in little escaped strands onto her tiny, curved neck. I wanted to
kiss that neck where the hair was falling.

“Red Alert!” Larry
grunted, now right beside me. His big belly brushed up against my
arm as he squeezed past me to open the cash register, a distasteful
shock after just having been a couple of feet from that perfect
creature.

“What?” I stammered at
him, I was focused on Alia leaving. .

“
I said ‘Red Alert’ –
means ‘Indians in the vicinity.’” Larry smiled a crooked grin like
he had shared a clever secret. Then he grew more serious, his brow
furrowing above his thick lenses. “Gotta keep an eye on the Reds –
sticky fingers. We ‘circle the wagons’ when they walk
in.”

I looked at him a long
moment with disgust, finally realizing what he was talking about,
and I just shook my head at him. He shrugged and began fumbling
with the cash register, opening the drawer to count the cash. I
brushed past him and went back to the kitchen to get as far away
from him as I could.

I didn’t see
Alia for another week. She finally came in again
after a few days, though, and this time she was alone, and this
time I was determined to establish some kind of a date with her, my
vow now forgotten. I was working the snack bar this time, so
Larry’s barbaric presence wasn’t going to be an issue.

She was wearing much the
same outfit as last time. She had on bright gold hoop earrings this
time, and had put on some eye shadow that brought her already
supernatural eyes out even more.

“So,” she smiled, “can you
cook?”

“Let’s find out…” I said.
“What can I get you?” I motioned to the menu on the wall behind
me.

“I’m not hungry; I just
came to kill some time.” Her large eyes looked at me, and then
around the kitchen. “So do you like working here?”

“I do, I think. Just been
a week and a half, but I think this place is growing on
me.”

I grabbed a medium size
cup and filled it with Coke, and handed it to her, so at least
she’d have something. She smiled and took it, grabbing a straw from
the counter. She seemed to have run out of conversation for a
moment, and she actually seemed a little nervous. I liked
that.

“
Listen,” I said, my heart
starting to beat a little heavier, betraying me again, that same
nervousness in my stomach rising up, “why don’t you hang around
until I get off in a couple hours, at seven, and we can maybe go
canoeing?”

I felt strangely nervous
talking to her now too, and I felt I had no control or confidence,
but I just kept staring into those eyes, pushing down my reflex to
look away, and I kept staring, and she stared back.

Larry had this metal canoe
I had seen when I first arrived locked up to a tree with a chain by
the lake shore. Nobody had used it yet, and Larry never mentioned
it. I knew where the key was, and I thought it would be a simple,
quaint little date activity. It was really the only thing I could
think of, as well.