7 Chapter 7

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In time, I felt righted enough to walk the reservoir, so we picked up the lunch from room service, stuffed it in our backpacks, and set out. Walking had never felt so good.

The reservoir, a mile west, was as the concierge said. Once we’d trekked halfway around, we felt completely removed from everyday life. We could have been deep in some forest, were it not for sitting at a picnic table to eat our ham sandwiches, pickles, and chips.

We tried to identify trees, but knew only oak, pine, and redwood. Likewise, the shrubs were mostly a mystery. Butterflies flitted around thickets of bright green, while elsewhere, white flowers dotted clumps of bushy gray-green plants. The area had pungent forest smells, with the sky clear overhead. A squirrel came to beg, and Ray enticed him onto the table with a piece of bread, which he ate right there, unafraid.