Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me; Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Rhyme of a Not-So-Ancient Mariner

By Cassandra Hope

(Copyright April 1997)

The first faint rays of dawn slowly played across the small group of campers huddled in their tents or scattered about the perimeter of the camp. Unmistakable sounds of awakening emanated from the direction of the dories where the Hunters and the other boatmen slept. Soon the assorted personnel were gathered around the embers of last night's fire coaxing it to life once more. Ben Fraser, alerted by the movements of the boatmen, crawled from his bedroll beside Ray's tent, stretched carefully, and realized with some joy that his back did not ache. He bent over and touched his toes then stood straight and stretched his arms out from his shoulders and swung them around, twisting his body as he did so. No ache, no twinge or reminder of an ache, no nothing. He closed his eyes and relished the feeling of no pain in his back. His muscles were tight but the ache that he'd lived with since his accident was gone. Whistling softly, he joined the group about the fire. An old pot, carefully placed among the embers, soon provided camp coffee for the small group.

"This trip seems to be agreeing with you, Ben," Josie said as she handed him a cup of coffee.

Ben took a deep swallow of the bitter brew, choked on it, and, not wishing to offend Josie, swallowed the horrible tasting sludge. "Thank you kindly, Josie. Yes, this trip is certainly agreeing with me." He stared at the dark liquid in his cup, swirling it around and around.

Josie laughed at Ben's attempts to disguise his dislike for the coffee. "I apologize for the coffee, Ben, but for some reason no one has figured out how to make a decent cup of coffee out of last night's grounds this early in the morning. As you see," she held up her empty cup, "I wait until Spuds gets up and makes a pot of her own."

Recalling the coffee shared with Ray yesterday, Ben asked, "Phil makes her own coffee?"

"Yeah, she seems to know what to do with everything to produce something that doesn't eat the lining of your stomach," Travis answered.

"Or eat a hole through your cup," Terry added.

Ben scratched an itch on his neck, then cocked his head. "Why don't you ask Phil to make the coffee for all of you?"

Travis shared a guilty look with Terry but it was Carol that answered Ben's question. Motioning with her head toward her husband and brother-in-law, she said, "They made the mistake of playing a practical joke on her several years ago and she hasn't forgiven them."

"Practical joke?" Ben recalled Phil's propensity for playing jokes on others. It was not unexpected to hear that someone had played one on her but for her to carry a grudge for several years seemed a bit unreasonable.

"Yeah," Carol continued, "she used to make all the coffee when she came on one of the excursions. We provided the coffee, she somehow threw it together and came up with a really great morning drink."

"Yeah, really great and she knew it, too," Terry added somewhat snidely.

Josie whacked him on the leg. "You should've left well enough alone,Terry, but no, you had to think up that stupid trick and now we all have to pay for it."

Terry glanced over at Travis then at Ben, guilt burning across his face. "Well it seemed like a good idea at the time. How was I to know she would hold it against me?"

Ben glanced back and forth from one face to another. "What did you do to Phil?"

Carol grinned and chuckled slightly. "Terry substituted dirt for the coffee and it was too dark for Phil to see the difference so..."

"She made a pot of coffee that was actually muddy water?"

Carol nodded. "No one would drink any of it and Phil...well, Phil isn't exactly at her best in the morning. She grabbed her cup and drained it. We all stared in horror as the taste finally percolated into her brain. The muddy water made her so sick she threw up all over herself and spent the rest of the day sick to her stomach."

"Unfortunately, it was the day we ran Lava Falls. Poor girl should have hiked around but she insisted..." Josie's voice trailed off as the others chuckled lightly.

"I gather the violence of the rapid made her more ill." Ben's voice rose in a question.

"You could say that," Carol almost laughed aloud. "She was so miserable that she wasn't able to hold on properly and she was thrown from the dory. She's never forgiven them for doing that to her."

"It was just a little prank! No one expected her to guzzle that cup down as fast as she did," Travis whined.

Carol patted his leg. "Let that be a lesson to you, don't mess with Phil. Things have a way of backfiring on you when you do."

Ben started. That small injunction by Carol hit home. He had 'messed' with Phil by ending their engagement and it had backfired on him. He stared into the depths of his cooling coffee. The murmurs died down and the group stared into the flames of the tiny fire.

After about 10 minutes, Terry glanced at his watch then the lightening sky and turned to Travis. "It's 5:30, I'll give her 6:15."

Travis also looked at his watch and the sky but also glanced at the river and the camp. He shook his head. "6:30."

Terry rolled his eyes then said, "You're on!"

Ron and Brian, the other boatmen, chipped in with 6:45 and 7:00. Carol and Josie simply sighed and shook their heads.

Puzzled by the conversation and the knowing grins shared among the others, Ben asked, "Might I inquire as to what it is you're attempting to time?"

Travis grinned and swallowed a mouthful of coffee then grimaced. "If we apologize once more do you think Spuds would make the coffee from now on? This stuff is horrible!" He then turned his attention to Ben, his measuring stare taking in Ben's obvious interest. Glancing at the others and receiving nods of approval, he answered, "We always have a wager going when Spuds tags along on one of these trips."

"Ah...I see..." His voice refuted his words. Staring into the depths of his as yet undrained cup of coffee, he asked, "And uh...that wager would concern?"

"What time she finally drags that skinny carcass of hers out of her bedroll and joins the land of the living." Travis yelped as Carol again whacked him on the arm.

"Don't you believe a word they say, Ben. They just want an excuse to get out of work." Travis smiled broadly then leaned over and planted a kiss on Carol's cheek.

Ben's eyes widened at Travis' description of Phil but knowing the close working relationship and friendship she had with the Hunters, he was not surprised. Phil was like that. She had a razor-sharp wit and a sense of humor best characterized as warped. Her friends tended to share similar characteristics. She didn't make friends easily but the ones she did have were good friends. He had been one once and, if he had his way, he would be one again.

He glanced over at Carol's raft, Phil's choice for her nighttime shelter. No signs of life, yet. A sixth sense tingled and a careful calculating smile curved the corners of his mouth. "What are the stakes? And uh...may I uh...participate?"

Terry stroked his unshaven jaw, squinted his eyes, and raked the Mountie with a considering gaze from head to foot, then back up to the questioning face. "Travis says you're an old friend of Spuds'. Is that right?"

Ben nodded--no need to go into details. Terry seemed satisfied with that.

"Well, we usually use our various chores as our stakes. What do you have to offer?" Terry asked not sure what the Mountie could contribute to their little wager.

"I'd be willing to take over any chores...that is, if I lost a bet." A smug look flitted across his face but was quickly squelched as Ben glanced around at the people sharing the morning fire.

"And if you win? Since you're one of the 'paying customers' you don't have any chores that we could cover. What would you gain if you won?" This was a simple wager among the boatmen. What did the Mountie have to gain from them? They were not disappointed by his reply.

Fraser pursed his lips and gave that question considerable thought. A grin of anticipation spread across his face and a sparkle entered his eyes. "I have the perfect solution. If I win...you can teach me how to handle a dory. Surely, you could do that in some of the gentler stretches."

Terry motioned for Travis and the others to follow him. They rose to their feet and huddled a few feet away from the fire to consider Ben's proposition.

Ben stared at the small group aware of the covert glances that were sent his way by each member. Why was it so important that he participate in the wager? Why did he want to participate? Maybe it was the kinship he felt with these people who made their living challenging nature. Whatever the reason, he knew it was important to him to be included in the wager.

The boatmen trooped back to the fire. Terry again stroked his chin. "You're on, Fraser. What's your time?"

Ben glanced again at Carol's raft then at his watch. "It's 5:45...I'll go with 6:00."

His choice was greeted with muffled hoots of laughter. In all the years that Phil had made this trip, she had rarely crawled from her bedroll as early as 6:00. And that one time had been because it had started to rain. No, it looked like Fraser would be pulling kitchen duty today.

Ben just smiled and waited patiently. 5:50...5:55 and still no Phil.

"Well, Ben...you ready to start on breakfast?" Josie was enjoying the prospect of light duty today. The grin on her face slowly died as Phil crawled from the raft, stretched, and scratched her side.

Why did her mouth taste like the Colorado had flowed through it last night? Phil ran her tongue over her teeth and smacked her lips. She needed a cup of coffee--badly. She stretched again dropping arms down to touch her toes. She shook her head letting her hair hang loose. It then cascaded down around her ears as she straightened. Running her hands through her thoroughly mussed hair, she approached the group around the fire, surprised to see Ben among them. Why were they all grinning at her?

Phil had no idea the picture she presented to the group of men around the fire. She was a woman confident in her abilities, knowing her own strengths and weaknesses. She had never worried about her looks--passable was the word she used to describe herself. To those who knew her (and some that didn't), her quiet confidence and unassuming air drew their attention like a magnet. The group around the fire was no exception--especially not Benton Fraser.

He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Her hair caught his attention. It definitely needed a good brushing as it framed her face like a halo. The fitful breeze off the river tossed an occasional lock around. He closed his eyes and drew the scent of lavender from his memory.

Accepting a cup of coffee, Phil again noticed the grins on the faces turned to her. Puzzled she glanced behind her then down the length of her body to her toes. "What? What is it? Did I put my clothes on backwards?" She sipped the coffee, nearly choked, then spat it out. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stared in horror at the cup in her hand. "What did I do, guys? This is only our second day and you're already trying to poison me? The mud tasted better than this!"

Muffled laughter behind masking hands met her declaration. "Spuds, you're just going to have to make the coffee from now on. This is the best we can manage."

"Oh...I get it! If I don't want to be poisoned I have to make the coffee?" Ben joined the others in grinning and nodding their heads. "Damn! This stuff is thick enough to pave a parking lot!" Only then did she notice that Ben shared the same wicked smile of the others. She grinned at him. "You didn't drink any of this swill, did you?"

Ben held up his cup and swirled the black brew around in it. "Only one swallow," he moaned. Phil's laughter joined the others.

"What's so funny? What did I miss?" Ray joined the group and accepted a cup of coffee from Carol. "Coffee...just what I need." He smiled and raised the cup to his lips. He sipped, swirled it around his mouth then swallowed. "Umm...I needed that. What? What?" He noticed the various looks on the faces around him.

Phil was the first to start laughing; the rest soon joined her. "You like this stuff?" she asked.

"It's not bad--reminds me of the coffee back at work, but not bad--not as good as the stuff yesterday, though." He was puzzled by the mirth of the group. He looked to Ben for enlightenment but Ben was grinning along with the others.

Taking pity on him, Phil said, "You're the only one here that liked the coffee."

Ray looked at the cups held out for his inspection. Sure enough, even though the group had been up longer than he had, their cups were almost full whereas his was almost empty. His grin joined theirs. "Good carburetor cleaner!" Everyone laughed with Ray.

"Okay...okay, enough about this poison masquerading as coffee. You never did answer my question." Phil brought the conversation back to its former topic.

"What question, Spuds?" Travis asked.

Phil closed her eyes and sighed. She hated that nickname--no, that wasn't correct. She hated the memory of how she got that nickname. She prayed that no one else, especially not Ben, would learn how she'd earned it. "What were you 'gentlemen' grinning about when I joined you. And 'puhleeze' don't say it's some sort of 'guy' thing. You know how I feel about 'guy' things!"

Travis grinned. "It's a 'guy' thing, Spuds," he intoned seriously. The others tried hard not to laugh loudly. After all, the rest of the group was still sleeping.

Phil groaned then turned to Ben. "Okay, Ben, out with it! I want to know what's going on?"

"I just won a bet."

"A bet? Is that what this is all about?" She glared at the faces turned to her. Only one, Ray's, showed no inkling of what was going on. She groaned again and rested her forehead in her hand. Shaking her head, she exhaled deeply then turned to Ben. "What time did you pick?" she asked, resignation thick in her voice.

"Ah...6:00."

Phil bent over and grabbed his wrist, hauling his arm up to where she could see the watch. "Quarter after...I figure I've been up about 15 minutes. What did you win?" She dropped Ben's wrist and absent-mindedly sipped at the coffee. She grimaced and tossed the remainder in the fire.

The moment Phil grabbed his wrist, Ben's skin sent a flash of recognition to his brain. He was intensely aware of her hand on his arm. When she let go, the separation was almost a physical blow. He slid his eyes to her face to see the grimace there. Did she so hate his touch? He relaxed when she tossed the remnants of her coffee in the fire, the distaste evident on her face.

"Somebody dump that 'carburetor cleaner' and I'll fix something drinkable." If they could've not disturbed the rest of the participants, the small group around the fire would have cheered.

"Before you do that..." Ray held his cup out. Looks of bafflement and admiration mingled as Ray downed another cup of the brew. He turned to Ben. "You didn't answer Phil's question. What did you win?"

Ben winked at Phil before answering. "Travis is going to teach me how to handle a dory."

Ray glanced back and forth from Ben to Travis. Travis nodded slightly and Ray groaned. "No offense, Phil, but can I ride in a different boat?" He glared at his partner. "It's either that or you point me in the direction of the trail outta here!"

"No can do, Ray! If I have to suffer through Ben's attempts at negotiating this river, so do you!" Phil's crooked grin did not hide the mischief in her eyes.

Ray shook his head. "Why me, Lord? Is this some kind of purgatory for people with Mounties for friends?" There was no muffling the laughter that spilled from the group around the fire.

* * *

August 9--And now the scenery is on a grand scale. The walls of the canyon, 2,500 feet high, are of marble, of many beautiful colors, often polished below by the waves, and sometimes far up the sides, where showers have washed sands over the cliffs.

At one place I have walked for more than a mile on a marble pavement, all polished and fretted with strange devices and embossed in fantastic patterns. Through a cleft in the wall the sun shines on this pavement and it gleams in iridescent beauty...

Riding down a short distance, a beautiful view is presented. The river turns sharply to the east, and seems enclosed by a wall, set with a million brilliant gems. What can it mean? Every eye is engaged, every one wonders. On coming nearer, we find fountains bursting from the rock, high overhead, and the spray in the sunshine forms the gems, which bedeck the wall. The rocks below the fountain are covered with mosses, and ferns, and many beautiful flowering plants. We name it Vasey's Paradise...

We pass many side canyons today that are dark, gloomy passages, back into the heart of the rocks that form the plateau through which this canyon is cut...

...We have cut through the sandstones and limestones met in the upper part of the canyon, and through one great bed of marble a thousand feet in thickness...As this great bed forms a distinctive feature of the canyon, we call it Marble Canyon.

The river is now quiet; the canyon wider. Above, when the river is at flood, the waters gorge up, so that the difference between the high-water mark and low-water mark is often 50 or even 70 feet... Sometimes there is a narrow flood plain between the water and the wall.

August 10--Walls still higher; water, swift again. We pass several broad, ragged canyons on our right, and up through these we catch glimpses of a forest-clad plateau, miles away to the west.

At two o'clock, we reach the mouth of the Colorado Chiquito. This stream enters through a canyon, on a scale quite as grand as that of the Colorado itself...I walk up the stream three or four miles, this afternoon, crossing and recrossing where I can easily wade it...On my way back, I kill two rattlesnakes, and find, on my arrival, that another has been killed just at camp.

August 11--We remain at this point today...the walls are about three thousand feet high...often vertical for many hundreds of feet--so that the impression is that we are at great depths; and we look up to see but a patch of sky...

August 12--...There is very little vegetation in this canyon, or in the adjacent country...the general aspect of the canyons, and of the adjacent country, is that of naked rock... ***

Phil closed the book and replaced it in her pack. "Today we'll pass by Vasey's Paradise and camp at the mouth of the Little Colorado--Powell's Colorado Chiquito. Any questions before we get started?"

Phil answered the few asked then the dories were loaded and the second day of the trip commenced. Today, Phil's group included Paul Johnston, a high school science teacher, plus Ben and a reluctant Ray.

"I just know I'm gonna regret this," Ray muttered as he took his place in the bow of the boat.

Phil joined him and patted his arm. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "We'll get through this together, Ray!" They both turned to where Ben was deep in discussion with Travis. The two men passed an oar back and forth between them.

"Are you two going to play with that oar all day or are we going to join the rest of this group?" Phil called to them.

Travis and Ben glanced up to watch the other boats and the rafts setting out into the current. They quickly climbed aboard and Ben settled into the stern while Travis manned the oars. Not far downstream from their camp at Stanton's Cave the group encountered an astonishing sight.

"Watch this, Ray," Phil pointed ahead to where the river made a sharp turn to the east. The occupants of the dory stared ahead and gasped as Vasey's Paradise came into view. The river seemed enclosed by a wall set with a million brilliant gems and the slopes were covered with verdant green.

"What is it?" Ray asked as he stared at the approaching glittering wall.

"You'll see!" Phil answered mysteriously.

As they approached the wall they were able to make out myriad fountains bursting from the wall and cascading down the cliff faces. The sunlight on the water produced the effect of sparkling diamonds. On the slope above the river, where the water from the fountains collected, a luxurious garden grew. The greenery seemed particularly welcome since the walls from Lee's Ferry to this point were almost bare of vegetation. A short stop allowed the participants to explore this small paradise.

A few miles down river the dories pulled ashore to investigate a favorite stop for river runners. Redwall Cavern, a large cave just above water level at a bend in the river near mile 33, was shaped like a band shell about 300 feet wide and 150 feet deep. The smooth floor of whitish sand sloped gently upward from the water's edge to the back of the cave where it met the vaulted ceiling that soared to almost 100 feet above the explorers. The floor was scuffed with the unmistakable evidence of an earlier group.

"Most of the commercial tours through the canyon stop here and play a game of volleyball," Travis explained to the group examining the walls of the cave. "I don't suppose you..."

"Where's the ball, Travis?" With that a vigorous game of suicidal volleyball began. Those not participating either watched the game or investigated the cave walls.

Ray watched the group playing volleyball and the group investigating the rocks. He sighed in disgust as several people 'tasted' the rocks. He watched Phil hand a rock to Ben and groaned as the Mountie licked it. The laugh the pair shared carried across the cavern to him. He smiled to himself. It looked like Ben and Phil were hitting it off just great.

Phil and Dave McMillian, the geography professor, were deep in a discussion concerning the evolution of the cave when she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Even before she stood she knew who was standing there. Her body only responded to his presence like that. After so many years her senses still responded to him. She finished her discussion with Dave and watched as he laughed at a remark from one of his students. It must have been a challenge of some sort for he threw himself into the volleyball game with a vengeance.

Ben had not moved. He still stood behind her waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. She couldn't ignore him any longer without being rude. Schooling her face to mask her awareness of his presence, Phil turned and smiled at Ben. He smiled back at her and she was captured by the brilliance of his blue eyes. She quickly dropped hers. She would not lose herself in them again.

Ben watched Phil's attempt to mask her awareness of him. He saw her struggle with buried emotions and smiled when she dropped her eyes from his. So...she wasn't totally unaffected by his presence--just as he was aware of her presence. And that had not been hate or distaste he had seen in the depth of her brown eyes. "Could I borrow your expertise for a moment, Phil?"

Her eyes lifted to meet his. She blinked. "What can I help you with, Ben?"

"I can't quite identify this rock. It's not a sandstone or a shale." He held the rock out for her inspection.

Phil took the proffered rock and glanced at it--jasper. Puzzled, she looked again at Ben.

"Is it limestone?" he asked.

"Ben, I know you. You've prepared for this trip. You know this is the Redwall Limestone..."

"Yes, but this doesn't really look like limestone."

Phil nodded in agreement. "It's not. It's jasper, a form of cryptocrystalline quartz. In several places the lower Redwall contains beds of jasper. You can identify it by its bright red color." What did he really want? Ben was a quick study; he would know the stratigraphy of the canyon as well as any of the others.

"I'm disappointed, Phil. I uh...I guess I expected you to tell me to taste it!" The shared memories brought a smile to both their faces.

Phil handed the rock back to Ben. "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint you. Go ahead, taste it!"

"What am I supposed to taste?" Ben asked as he obediently licked the rock.

Maintaining a straight face, her voice did not hide her mirth. "Nothing. Taste is not really a good diagnostic tool for limestones. What you need is some hydrochloric acid. Then we could watch it fizz. Jasper, on the other hand, won't fizz."

"Then why did you have me taste it?" Ben dropped the rock he had held and ran a thumb over his left eyebrow.

"Because you wanted to!" Phil laughed at his dismay and Ben joined her. It felt good to share a laugh with him. Martin had tried to evince an interest in geology but she could tell that he was only doing it to please her. Ben, on the other hand, really was interested. Before she knew what she was doing, she asked, "How about a hike up one of the side canyons further down?"

He stared at her complete surprise on his face. "Sounds interesting," he finally mumbled.

Almost in a panic, Phil raised her voice and called to the others in the group. "Ben and I will be hiking up to Nautiloid Canyon. Any takers?" Before long most of the group had joined them.

"I thought you wanted to hike with me and not the whole group?" Ben asked quietly.

Not sure of her answer to his question, Phil fell back on her role as leader of the excursion. "This is a group experience, Ben. My first responsibility is to the group as a whole. This is an experience I wouldn't deny anyone, no matter what I might want." What did she want?

"Does that mean you want to hike it with me?" For some reason it was important for him to know whether or not Phil wanted to spend some time with him without the distraction of the others in the group.

Phil simply raised her eyebrows and turned to the group. Not only did she not know the answer to that question, she was afraid to search for it. It was better to let him speculate about her motives rather than try to identify what was going on in her mind. She quickly pulled an image of Martin to the forefront of her thoughts. However, try as hard as she might, she couldn't picture him enjoying this trip as much as Ben was. Martin was a self-proclaimed 'city boy' and proud of it.

They piled back in the dories and made the short trip to Nautiloid Canyon. Phil led the group up the small side canyon to a place where the fossils of squid-like cephalopods were embedded in the rock pavement. They looked like chambered nautiluses but were uncoiled and stretched out flat. At first the fossils were indistinct, but Phil used some water from her canteen to pour over the rocks to reveal the nautiloids in all their ancient glory.

"It's at times like these that I resent the fact that I can't collect a specimen for my own collection." The regret was heavy in her voice, "But, I realize that if everyone collected one then there would soon be none left for others to enjoy." She patted a particularly beautiful specimen, "I'll see you next time, Pete."

"Pete?" Ray had to ask.

An embarrassed smile settled on her lips. "This is my favorite specimen. I gave him a name years ago. Each time I run the canyon, I visit him." She rose to her feet and, soon, the group started back to the river and the dories that waited for them. As they neared the river, Ben casually held Phil back by the slight pressure of his hand on her arm. He dropped his hand and bent down to pick up a rock.

"Is there something I can help you with, Ben?" Phil fidgeted nervously as she watched the group hike further away from them. Even Ray seemed in a hurry to get back to the dories.

"Phil..." He again placed a hand on her arm. She glanced down at it before stepping away from him.

"What is it, Ben?" She was puzzled by the intense expression on his face. Turning away from him, she shaded her eyes and followed the progress of the group down the canyon.

"When can we talk?"

Phil spun around to stare at him, mouth agape. "We have been talking."

His hand swept out as if to brush away something inconsequential. "When can we talk about us? Not about the trip or the rocks." He dropped the one he was holding. "When can we talk about our feelings?"

Phil didn't want to discuss her feelings, especially not her feelings concerning Ben. There was too much hurt buried with them and she didn't want to resurrect them without proper preparation. "I'm not ready to discuss that, Ben." The glance she favored him with held an echo of the hurt she once felt. No, she wouldn't let him hurt her again. But why was she even thinking along those lines? She loved Martin, didn't she?

"I'm sorry, Phil. I shouldn't push you like this, but I've missed your friendship. I..." He smiled down at her. "I understand. Seeing you here still comes as a shock to me." He ran his tongue across his lips. "You have no idea how many times I thought of seeing you again, but I never actually thought I would get the chance--not until I talked with Cat."

Phil's eyes followed the sensuous movement of Ben's tongue, a chill running up and down her spine. She remembered what he could do with his tongue. Startled by her thoughts she angrily pulled her eyes away from his mouth and nodded her head in agreement. She had also thought of meeting him again, but never thought she would. "I'm sorry, too, Ben. It's just that so much has happened that..." She thought of Lindy. "...that we need to talk over and this just isn't the right time or place to do that. Cat understood that." She resumed her trek down the trail to the dories.

Ben fell in behind her, his mind warring with memories of little things that had not felt right when he'd visited Cat. Did Cat know something he didn't? Something that caused the distraction he had felt from Cat during their visits? Before they reached the dories and the people gathered on the bank of the river beside them, he once more spoke to Phil. "Maybe we can talk in the evenings?" he asked. At least that would keep her away from Ray.

"Maybe..." Phil's husky voice dropped. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend time with him talking about things that would inevitably upset the balance she had found in her life. She broke into a jog for the last stretch to the waiting dories. Ben sped up and joined her at the stern of the Hetch Hetchy.

Travis cut any answer he might have made short. "Hey, Fraser! Ready for you first lesson?"

Ben favored Phil with a look of exasperation then called to Travis, "I'll be right with you!" He turned back to Phil. "Tonight, then?"

Phil closed her eyes then nodded her head. "Tonight," she echoed him. He smiled at her then was gone. Why had she agreed to spend the evening with him? She didn't want to spend time alone with him. There were too many things that could be said or done that she wasn't prepared to deal with.

'Damn, I wish I never agreed to take on this trip.' But she knew that she would have come even if she had known he was here. That thought surprised her, but she knew it was true. She missed Ben's friendship as much as he claimed to miss hers. Could they be friends? Could she just be friends and not want more? Did she want more? And where did Martin fit into this?

"Heavy thoughts?" Ray asked as he strolled up next to Phil.

"No, more like confused thoughts." She glanced toward the Glen Canyon where Ben was standing in the cockpit with Travis. Terry handed the oars to Travis who showed Ben how to place them in the oarlocks. An animated discussion ensued between the three men.

Ray watched the fleeting emotions play across Phil's face. Something still existed between Ben and this woman he was coming to admire. But what was it? He fervently hoped that she wouldn't hurt Ben like Victoria had. Ben was a strong man, but even the strongest of men could break under the right set of circumstances. Before this trip, he had been close to that breaking point. That's what this trip was for--to help him deal with the stresses that were pressuring him.

Although he would never admit it to his friend, Ray would not leave him. If Ben suggested they climb the Himalayas, Ray would follow him. Ben needed someone to watch his backside while he dealt with his inner turmoil. Ray was beginning to wonder if this woman had something to do with those problems. Just what kind of relationship had they had? A conversation replayed itself in his mind. He remembered Cat telling him about a woman whom Ben had loved before Victoria and Ben himself had admitted to dropping Phil for that bitch. Could Phil be that woman from Ben's past?

"Phil, can I ask you a personal question? About Fraser?"

Phil turned a startled look toward him and spat out, "No!" Realizing how bald and bad that sounded, she apologized, "I'm sorry, Ray. I'm just not ready to answer any questions about Ben and myself. That relationship is long dead and I don't want to resurrect it here." She started away from him, stopped and ran her hands over her face and around to clasp the back of her neck. She turned back to Ray. "I'm sorry, Ray. I'm not usually this abrupt with people. It's just..."

Ray smiled. "It's just that you didn't plan on having to deal with a ghost from your past. Am I right?"

Phil nodded. "Are you always this perceptive?"

Ray laughed and joined her. Linking her arm with his they walked down to the dories that were now loading with the others of their group. "Nah, I'm usually pretty dense about these things. Benny's the one with the ESP."

As if on cue, Ben lifted his eyes from the map Travis pulled out of a compartment to show him. He witnessed Ray and Phil walking arm-in-arm to the boats. Their heads were entirely too close together for his comfort. He closed his eyes not wanting to see what was happening. He looked ahead to this evening. He had to reach his Phil; see if she still existed before Ray stole her away from him. It shook him when he realized what he was thinking and, for a brief moment, he wished Ray had not come with him.

* * *

Ben traded places with Travis and steadied the dory as it moved with the current.

"Just keep the dory headed downstream, get used to the feel of the boat in the river," Travis directed.

The monotonous rowing felt good. The rowing was similar to the exercises Rob McKenzie had set for him before he left the hospital. The tight muscles in his back relaxed and a warmth spread across his shoulders. Ben guided the boat in this manner for some time before a distant roar foretold approaching rapids. "Should we trade out now?" Ben asked.

From where he lay stretched out in the stern of the dory, Travis shook his head. "Nah, President Harding Rapid is small stuff--sorta like the president they're named after. You're doing such a good job handling the dory, why don't you go ahead and run them?"

"Now wait a minute," Ray spoke from the bow, "I didn't pay good money to be drowned by the Mountie! If I'm going to be drowned, I want a professional to do it!"

"Ray, you're just being silly!" Ben spoke softly over his shoulder. His words carried to the other occupants of the dory where they were greeted with smiles and chuckles.

Travis straightened up on his seat and called down to Ray, "You wouldn't want me to renege on a bet, now would you?"

"No, but don't you think he needs some more experience before he runs one of these rapids?" Ray flailed his hands in the air ineffectually punctuating his conversation.

"Probably, but considering that the rest of the rapids in this section are worse than this one, I thought it would be best to let him negotiate this one rather than one of the others. However, if you're confident enough to let him try one of the harder ones..."

"No, no! Not at all!" Ray glared at Ben. "Why do you do this to me?"

"Do what, Ray?"

"This!" Ray's hands flew up. "You know what I mean!"

"No, I don't, Ray." Ben faced the stern thankful that Ray couldn't see the smile that threatened to spread across his face.

Exhaling slowly, Ray let his head fall forward on his chest. Never give a Mountie an inch. If you did, he'd take a mile.

As the roar increased, the tension in the small craft also increased. Ben followed the detailed instructions given by Travis and swung the dory around. He brought it into line with the other dories and aimed it at the tongue of the rapids. Entering the tongue, the dory shot through in short order and they soon found themselves gently circling below the rapids. Ben stood in the cockpit, quite pleased with himself. He cleared his throat and throwing back his head, solemnly recited,

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread;

It reached the ship, it split the bay;

The ship went down like lead.

Upon the whirl where sank the ship

The boat spun round and round;

And all was still, save that the hill

Was telling of the sound.

"Yeah, yeah, I read that poem, too, Benny," Ray tossed at Fraser. "The part I remember goes something like this,

I took the oars; the pilot's boy,

Who now doth crazy go,

Laughed loud and long; and all the while

His eyes went to and fro:

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.'

And Ray stared directly into Ben's eyes as he quoted the stanza. The others in the dory laughed until tears came to their eyes.

"Ray, I'm hurt," Ben pouted.

"Yeah, I just bet you are." Ray smiled slyly at his friend.

Phil choked on a laugh, drew in a deep breath, and quoted yet another stanza from 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.'

Farewell! farewell! but this I tell

To thee, thou wedding-guest!

He prayeth well who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.

All eyes in the dory turned to her. "Now just what the hell does that have to do with our situation?" Ray's sarcastically asked.

"Nothing, I just happen to like that stanza. I didn't think the one about the worms was appropriate, and we certainly aren't becalmed on a glassy sea."

"Worms? I don't recall anything about worms?"

"Let me refresh your memory," Ben said as he traded places with Travis. "If I remember correctly the stanza went like this:

The many men, so beautiful!

And they all dead did lie;

And a thousand thousand slimy things

Lived on, --and so did I. ###

"All right, already! Jeez, Isn't it bad enough without turning this geology trip into an excursion into literature. Give me a break, please!" Ray buried his face in his hands. His head came up in surprise when he head Fraser's laughter join with the others. Ray stared at his partner. Ben was actually leaning against Phil as he laughed and Phil was laughing just as hard as Ben.

Ben couldn't help it. Ray's misery was just so funny. He joined the laughter of the others. Phil leaned against him as she fought to control her chuckles. However, each time she looked at Ray or Ben the chuckles began again. Ben smiled and leaned on her. He surreptitiously slipped an arm around Phil and hugged her to him. It would have been better if the life jackets hadn't been in the way. But, hey, at least he was hugging her and she wasn't pushing him away. Maybe tonight...

After a short stop at Nankoweap Rapids and a hike up the canyon wall to Nakoweap ruins, the group continued down the river to their ultimate destination, the Little Colorado.

Camp was made at the mouth of the Little Colorado. Tomorrow they would face the nine-mile stretch that contained Unkar, Seventy-five Mile, Hance, Sockdolager, and Grapevine. Niagara Falls on the installment plan--a total drop of 107 feet. But that was tomorrow and there was still plenty to do today.

Neither storm nor runoff had muddied the waters of the Little Colorado. It ran warm and blue. Josie approached Phil and the small group that seemed to always be with her.

"We're going to ride the flume. Care to come along?" She motioned toward the Little Colorado.

Phil's eyes lit up. "Just try and stop me!"

"Ride the flume?" Ray asked from where he had stretched out on the ground.

Josie grinned and winked at Phil. "It's a lot like shooting rapids but without the boat."

"In that case--count me out!"

"Come on now, Ray! Don't discount something until you've tried it. Haven't you enjoyed shooting the rapids so far?" The look he shot back at Phil told it all.

"Come on, Ray. I'd like to try riding this flume," Ben asked.

How could he refuse this request. He had sworn to be there for Benny. He just hadn't realized what that entailed. "Okay, okay, Benny! I just hope I don't live to regret this." He was not consoled by the laughter shared by Phil, Carol, and Josie. Soon a small group trekked along 550-million year old sandstone ledges heading upstream of the Little Colorado.

"Now, tell me again, why did I have to bring my life jacket?" Ray hated the thing and any chance he had to discard it saw him removing the orange garment.

"You'll see!" Carol answered mysteriously. At the appropriate location Carol showed the small group how to step into the life jackets and fasten them so that they looked like huge, unsinkable diapers.

"Damn, I just knew I was gonna regret this. You owe me, Benny, you owe me big time!" But he climbed into his life jacket like everyone else and emitted a long, put-upon sigh.

Carol slipped into the light blue water of the river and chuted feet first down a shallow flume, bumping back and forth between the white boulders. The others followed and the canyon rang with their laughter and shouts of enjoyment.

Ray found himself having as much fun as the rest of the group and he made the trip back to the start several times. He even laughed at the picture he made waddling along in his orange diaper, looking as silly as the rest of the group. Little did he know that Phil's omnipresent camera was getting a workout. The group chuted the flume many times, singly or in chains of five or more.

As Ray struggled back to the beginning, he found himself waddling beside Phil. They both turned to watch Ben float down the rocky riverbed. Ben shouted and waved at them as he shot past. "This trip is doing him a world of good," Ray commented to Phil.

The camera dropped from Phil's face as she turned a puzzled look on him. "What do you mean by that, Ray?"

Ray face grew somber. "I don't think I should be telling you that, Phil. That's something you'll have to discuss with him." He motioned with his head toward the Mountie as he disappeared from view around some boulders in the river.

Now what in hell did Ray mean by that? Was this trip more than just an opportunity to raft the Canyon? What wouldn't Ray tell her? There was no way she would question Ben about his reasons for taking this trip. Somehow she knew that one of the answers would concern their past relationship and that was a topic she didn't want to raise.

Ben finished his journey down the flume and started the trek back to the starting point. He watched as Ray, then Phil shot past him. He waved as they went by. Phil's laughter carried to him across the distance that separated them. Unbidden, a memory came to him--a dream that had haunted him for over a year. He glanced around at the canyon walls and listened to Phil's laughter as she shot out of sight. Smiling, he thanked Cat for pointing him in the right direction.

* * *

Dinner that night featured blackened salmon, potatoes, asparagus, and a green salad. Travis whipped up a batch of brownies and topped them with whipped cream. After dinner several members of the group gathered around the fire. Ben read from a book.

"Isn't it kind of difficult to read by firelight, Fraser?" asked Mara as she settled down beside him.

Ben smiled. "Not if you're used to it." He turned back to his book. Maybe she would take a hint. He had other plans for this evening.

"What are you reading?" Mara cooed.

Ben sighed. "I'm reading 'The Rapids and the Pools--Grand Canyon' by Luna B. Leopold. It's quite interesting. His discussion of the use of flourescein-dye markers for mapping the flow of water through the rapids and whirlpools makes for very engrossing story."

Mara wrinkled her nose. "I'm quite sure it's very interesting, Fraser. Do you ever read anything nontechnical?" Her hand stole up and she lightly trailed her fingers down Ben's arm.

"Uh...nontechnical...uh...I once read a book on currency watermarks...but, I think that was technical in nature..." He briefly recalled the tiny stack of books safely harbored in his father's locker. Mara didn't need to know about them.

Phil settled down on the other side of Ben and looped an arm around one of his. Why did she feel this need to deflect Mara's advances? She tilted her head and read the title of his book. "That's a good book, Ben. Hey, Ray!" she called to the other man. "Come and listen to this." She turned back to Ben. "Here read this..." She flipped back to the front of the book and pointed to a spot at the beginning.

"What did you want, Phil?" Ray settled beside her.

"Go on, Ben, read it, please."

Ben looked down at the woman who had her arm casually draped around his. He looked at Mara on his other side and carefully transferred his book to the hand she stroked. He lifted his other arm free of Phil's and slid it around behind her and pulled her closer to him. "I'd be glad to read it for you, Phil." He leaned closer inhaling the scent that he'd known all those years ago. Shaking his head slightly, he drew his thoughts away from that and whispered in her ear, "Thank you for the rescue." He cleared his throat and began reading,

In the dry glare of a sun-drenched afternoon, in the bitter chill of a thunderstorm wind, or in the purple evening, there is no respite from the incessant boom of the great river. One finds at times he has forgotten the ever-present roar of the rapids and then, as if suddenly awakened, he hears it again. So persistent is the sound that I often wonder how the mind can put away the noise into some recess, even momentarily.

The river's boom is associated with a pervasive uneasiness which never leaves a man while he is clamped within the cliffs of the canyon. This uneasiness is not the reflection of a queasy stomach for, in fact, the dry air, the sun-dappled water, and the intense color tend to give a sense of exhilaration. Rather, the uneasiness is a subdued but undeniable cold fear which never departs.

A silence settled over the group as Ben finished reading the passage. Each listened to the distant boom of rapids and dealt with their fears in their own manner. Some made an early evening, some wandered down to gaze at the river they would face tomorrow, and some chose to sit around the fire and joke and tell stories with the others there. Mara maintained her seat beside Ben occasionally touching him with her hand or foot.

Tired of Mara's advances, Ben whispered in Phil's ear. "Care to take a short walk?"

Phil closed her eyes. She had dreaded this moment ever since she had agreed to spend some time with him this afternoon. Now the time was here. She felt her stomach knot as she mutely nodded her head. The two of them rose to their feet and headed toward the river.

Mara scowled at their retreating backs. The Mountie was definitely not gay but he paid more attention to their plain-Jane leader than to her. Somehow she would change his mind. She didn't yet know how but she would. It would be a shame for such a magnificent piece of manhood to go to waste.

Ray also watched them go and smiled. The more he saw of Phil the more he could understand how Benny could be attracted to her. Truth be told, he was attracted too. But Benny came first and if there was the slightest chance that Phil could blot that bitch, Victoria, from his mind, well...

As soon as they left the circle of the fire, Phil shrugged out from beneath Ben's arm. She was surprised at how difficult that single action was. She put the smallest distance between them as they continued their walk in silence.

Ben gritted his teeth when Phil left his embrace. Why did it bother him that she didn't want to be held closely by him? Where did this sudden urge to sweep her into his arms come from? Reaching a sandy area near the water's edge he stopped their forward progress by touching her arm. "This is far enough. Let's sit here and get reacquainted." He proceeded to follow his suggestion and seated himself on the bank. He watched Phil stare off into the darkness, wondering if she would join him or move away.

Phil crossed her arms and stared across the river at the shadow that was the opposite bank. Inhaling deeply, she smelled the damp mustiness of the water and crisp cleaness of the night air. The sounds of the river masked the sounds from the camp and, staring across the river, she could believe that she was alone in the Canyon, that is if it weren't for the man seated on the ground, she could believe she was alone. But her awareness of Ben's presence made that impossible. Sighing, she dropped down beside him on the bank. She made sure, though, that enough distance separated them so that he couldn't touch her, yet, not be so far as to actually appear to be distancing herself.

They sat there in silence, neither one wishing to break the peace that lay between them. Somehow they knew that before they could really start over, all the pent up feelings of hurt, betrayal, loneliness, anger, everything would have to be vented. Phil refused to allow that to happen during this trip. Maybe later, if she decided their friendship was worth saving, maybe then they could vent their feelings, but not now--not here.

Ben studied Phil's face. It was too dark to see into her eyes, but he could imagine what she was thinking. He agreed with her, in principle, but he also knew that there was no going ahead without a clearing of the past. He dreaded that more than she did. After all, he was the one who had called off their engagement. He was the one who had caused the pain they had both suffered. He was the one who had caused all their loneliness. He was the one who deserved whatever penalty she would dish out. But--he also knew that he was the one who would serve whatever penance she demanded as long as he could have that second chance with her. Looking at the tight expression on her face, he also realized that he was the only one who could reach the 'real' Phil...the one he had loved so many years ago. He had watched her blossom and come out of the shell she had built around her heart and he had desperately loved that woman. His heart sank as he realized that that Phil was gone...buried deeply behind the wall she had erected to replace the one he had broken through. That wall would be doubly difficult to penetrate. But somewhere behind it, the woman he had loved still lived.

"I don't think this was such a good idea, Ben." Phil's husky voice carried above the sounds of the water. When she was with him, Martin's presence faded. This wasn't what she'd planned. She loved Martin and was going to marry him, wasn't she?

"Why not?"

Startled, she turned to face him. "There's just so many things that have happened to both of us." She thought of Lindy...his father...Victoria...Martin. "We're not the same people we were back in the summer of '84."

"That's true, Phil, we can't help but change, but the basic person we are--the core of our being--that doesn't change. Phil, I know I hurt you..."

"Let's not go into that, Ben!" she snapped.

"Very well." He bowed his head and rested his chin on his folded hands. "Do you remember back to that first trip we made to Thunder Basin? That night at Vicker's cabin?" Phil nodded. "You told me the story of how you hurt your back?"

"I remember..." How could she not remember? She had been so intensely aware of his presence--the confusion of her thoughts-after that kiss at the rock pinnacle. Telling that story had helped distance herself from him.

"You asked me if I had ever done something so stupid and careless and public that it haunted me for the rest of my life. When you asked me that I could truthfully say no. Ask me that question again."

"Why?" What was he leading up to?

"Just ask me that question again. Please?"

Phil watched Ben's face as moonlight played across his features. There was an intensity to the tilt of his head and a firmness to the set of his jaw. Not knowing if she really wanted to hear the answer to the question, she asked, "Have you ever done something so wrong that you regretted it for the rest of your life?"

Ben strained to hear the question and was surprised at the form it came in. Somehow Phil had cut right to the heart of the issue. Yes, he had done something wrong and he desperately regretted it. "Phil, there are many things in my life that I regret, things I wish I could change, but the single greatest mistake I have ever made was when I turned my back on you. Not a day has passed that I have not regretted what I did to you and to myself..."

"Stop it, Ben! I won't discuss this with you here and now. I can't discuss it with you now. Don't you understand? I have a responsibility to the people on this trip. If you insist on delving into our history and dredging up past feelings and opening old wounds, I won't be able to do my job right. Please, Ben, don't do this to me!"

She sprang to her feet and ran from him. She didn't care where she went as long as it was away from him. Tears blinded her eyes and combined with the darkness, she tripped over a rock and went sprawling forward onto the ground. Why did it not surprise her when a strong pair of arms gently rolled her over and cradled her to a broad chest? She futilely pushed against that rock solid barrier.

"No, Ben! Please don't..."

"Don't what, Phil?" His whisper soft question feathered against her hair.

"Please don't hurt me again." She turned her face into his chest, trembling in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Phil. I..." His voice trailed off. He held her close in his arms, rocking her, and stroking circles on her back with his hands.

Why was he doing this? This could only result in more hurt for both of them. He was here on this trip to rid himself of those lingering feelings for Phil. He couldn't do that if he sought out these chances to hold her. He thought he had resolved his feelings about Phil over a year ago. He knew he had loved her more than anyone else. But that was over--long gone. And Phil...Phil had lost his love years ago. He had betrayed her. She had dealt with that in her own way. She had learned to live without him, had found someone else. He couldn't expect her to welcome him back with open arms. Why would she want to? Why did he want her to? He breathed in the scent of her hair--not lavender. River water?

Phil leaned into the chest under her cheek. How long had it been since she had been held by Ben? Over 12 years her heart supplied too readily. She should not let him hold her like this. She should put as much distance between them as she could. She should not want him to kiss her. She should not lift her face to his.

It was natural, once he saw moonlight sparkle on the tracks of the tears on her face, to lean down and kiss the tear-stained cheeks. It was natural to kiss the soggy eyelashes. It was natural to kiss the trembling lips that met his. It was natural to want more. It was natural but it couldn't happen and this moment couldn't last.

Shaken, Phil pushed away from Ben's embrace. She stared at the face cloaked in darkness. That kiss...why did he have to kiss her? She felt her resistance crumbling just as it had so many years ago. No, she wouldn't fall for him again. She wouldn't make that mistake again. Frantically, she sought for memories of Martin's kisses, Martin's lips on hers, the familiar desire building in her blood. Where were they? Why did Ben's presence affect her so? Unsteadily, she climbed to her feet, Ben's hand trailing down her arm.

"I'm sorry, Ben, I don't think we should do this again." She turned and walked away from the only man she had ever loved. But what about Martin?

* * *

Journal entry: 2 September 1997

Today I became a doryman. I negotiated my first rapids and felt the triumph of outwitting my adversary: the River. That's why they do this...to challenge the River and win. It is a true test of mettle. I like Travis and Terry. They are honest, hard-working men. They remind me of two explorers holding their destiny in their hands. Browned by the sun, their dark heads sun-streaked, they battle the River. I am proud to be a doryman like them.

However, on a practical note, I doubt that I will have an opportunity to practice my newly acquired skills tomorrow. From what I have read and what has been told me about the rapids we face tomorrow, my inexperience precludes me from trying my hand at handling a dory again. But, there are many more days in which I can hone my skills. If I win the bet again! I am confident I will. I do know Phil.

Phil. I held her in my arms tonight. I kissed the lips that had been mine so many years ago. They tasted of salt from the tears I caused. I felt her body tremble as I held her in my arms once more. I held her in my arms and she didn't push me away. At least not at first.

For that one brief moment when I kissed her and she returned my kiss, I felt complete. I have not felt that way since I left her. In all the times I spent with Victoria, I never felt complete. I wasted 10 years of my life waiting for a love that did not exist. All that time I could have had the love that did. How could I have been so blind? How could I have fallen for Victoria? It would be understandable if my life had been incomplete or if Phil had left me. But, she didn't leave me and my life was filled to overflowing. Why did I throw away the love I had for the love that didn't exist? God help me! I don't know. I don't know if I will ever know.

Even the times I spent with Cat, when I thought we were meant for each other, I never felt the completeness I feel with Phil. Is this what Cat talked of? Is this what she feels with Lloyd? Is this what I threw away when I chose Victoria?

I find myself recalling moments spent in Phil's company. She rarely speaks of the man she plans to marry and I wonder at that. Can Cat be right? Could I change Phil's mind? I look at Phil and my body longs for her. Can this attraction I feel be only physical? There is so much more to her than just that. I think of what I could have had with her and, strangely, I feel panic. Why? I cannot think of any valid reasons for panic to strike. Yet, I feel that I'm letting something slip through my fingers. What that may be I must discover before I can truly rid myself of these lingering thoughts of Phil. We have both been hurt too much to take chances with each other. As if either one of us would want a second chance--another chance to hurt each other. I don't think I can survive that kind of mistake again. I made enough mistakes with Victoria. I won't make them with Phil. I would rather live on the outskirts of her life and love than to make another mistake with her.

I think I am a coward.

 

 

 

To be continued (?)

***Excerpted from 'First Through the Grand Canyon' by Major John Wesley Powell

### The Rime of the Ancient Mariner--Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Copyright April 1997 Cassandra Hope

Comments are welcome at baktrak@earthlink.net

 

Visit my website at http://www.geocities.com/baktrak1 for Book 1 and Book 2

Second Chances (Book 3 of the Ben & Phil Saga)

  1. On a Collision Course--Redux
  2. Second Chances
  3. A Cop, a Mountie, and a Dory
  4. Canyon Interlude by Carol Trendall
  5. Rhyme of a Not-so-Ancient Mariner