CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Reggie!” his mom called following a knock on his bedroom door, “we’ve got that appointment at Big Brother’s at eleven.”
“Yeah, Yeah, I’ll be up,” Reggie responded with sleepy enthusiasm.
On the drive to the office, Reggie started wondering what he was getting into and asked, “Tell me again why we’re doing this—I thought it was only if I was expelled?”
“No, Reg,” his mom answered. “The guidance counselor thought a mentor would be a good idea and both dad and I think it could help.”
“Help with what?” Reggie asked.
“As far as I understand it, these big brothers are supposed to be more like friends.”
“I don’t need any more friends,” Reggie snapped back, feeling angry at himself; never being able to keep friends.
“Let’s just take it one step at a time, okay?” Carole tried reasoning, “they told me this candidate shared a lot in common, and maybe you’ll like him.”
Reggie gave his mom an accepting shrug as they pulled into the office parking lot.
Stepping into the office, they were met by an older, pretty obese guy with a bald head and a bowtie and Reggie thought, ‘no way!’
“I’m Bill Connors, the Director,” he said, “welcome Mrs. Youngblood. This must be Reggie.”
“Hi,” Reggie squeaked out, while he shook his hand, relieved he wasn’t the big brother.
Moving to a conference room, Bill explained how the process of matching and having ‘brothers’ worked and that after you meet and get to know each other a bit, it’s up to the boy if he wants to go on a trial period of weekly meet ups with his ‘big.’
Then Bill asked Reggie, “So, Reggie, if you want to give it a try, I’ll invite him in and let the two of you chat—is that okay with you?”
“I suppose,” Reggie answered with a ‘nothing to lose’ shrug.
When Bill returned to the room followed by the big brother, both Carole’s and Reggie’s eyes popped and jaws dropped to the conference table. It was Joe Sartor. Reggie’s face lit up like the time he first saw a sunrise over Ridgeview Rock.
“Hi, Reggie.” Joe said with a huge knowing smile.
“Hi Joe,” Reggie said with a matching wide smile.
As Carole sat looking amazed, both Reggie and Joe rushed around the conference table to shake hands.
“Good to see you again, Reggie, and you too, Mrs. Youngblood,” Joe said with a two-handed handshake.
“Seriously? You’d be my big brother?” Reggie asked.
“If you’ll have me, I’d love to,” Joe responded, “this way you can do volunteer work at the agency and we can also have free fun time together.”
As Carole came to realize what was happening and saw the two together, her face changed from dumbstruck to awestruck. Her gaze got broken by Mr. Connor’s declaration.
“I guess we got a match!” he said as he gestured all to sit.
Reggie, still beaming, moved around and sat next to Joe.
“Sure looks like it,” Carole added.
“Well,” Mr. Connors continued, “then we just need to sign these papers and we’ll be all set.”
“How about a hike?” Joe asked, a moment later.
“Great!” Reggie answered.
“How about Saturday, Topanga Canyon—there’s a lot of good trails there; I can pick you up at 9:00 a.m.?” “Cool,” Reggie agreed.
Carole said to Joe, “Thank you so much for doing this. I can’t believe how this came together”
“Me too,” Joe replied, “When I first met Reggie, I sensed we had something in common.”
After they completed the paperwork, Joe put both Reggie’s and his mom’s cell phone numbers into his smart phone and then filled Reggie in on what to bring for the hike.
“I’ve got a good pair of Merrill boots—Ventilators,” Reggie offered.
“Me too,” Joe said, “They’re the best for canyon hikes.”
As they headed out the door and into the parking lot, Reggie asked, “How’s P12?”
“We found him alive, but sick. We treated him and we’re hopeful,” Joe answered as he waved from his car door, “I’ll fill you in when we meet, okay?”
“Okay, see you Saturday,” Reggie replied.
After Carole pulled the car onto the street and into traffic, she asked, “What do you think, Reggie?”
“What do you think, Ma?” he answered, rolling his eyes.
“I guess”…she said snapping her fingers… “good fortune can come to you just like that.” Then she asked, “Who in the heck is P12?”
“Our favorite mountain lion,” he answered.
On Monday, starting his first week of summer vacation, Reggie was a bit more hopeful, having had the good fortune of connecting with Joe. But was it just luck, Reggie wondered? He remembered the time when he was hiking alone on the Ridgeview trail, when he thought he heard Joe’s voice. It wasn’t like he was there talking, Reggie thought, but when you were in nature and got quiet, you felt more open to others and to new ideas. It was like that karma thing Jennifer said can come to you during meditation.
Or, maybe like in a vision quest? he wondered. With the thought of Jennifer, he realized he should call her to see how she was doing in Atlanta.
He got voice mail when he first called, but within a half an hour, she called back.
“Hi, Reggie,” she said, “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he replied, “How about you?”
“This Sayler’s art school is really cool Reggie, I just got out of my photography class where we saw a movie about Vivian Maier, the street photographer—her images of people were so intimate.” Jennifer must have realized she was getting carried away, so she asked Reggie what he was up to.
“Not much,” Reggie answered, “Kinda boring actually.”
“How are you getting along with your dad?” she asked, then realized that probably wasn’t the best question to ask.
“Huh! Another bummer,” Reggie answered, “My mom told me he got a concussion from a land mine exploding under his Humvee, but he didn’t lose a leg or anything.”
“I’m sorry, Reggie. Hope he’ll be okay.”
Not wanting to continue on that conversation thread, Reggie asked, “Where are you living?”
“Ho! I’m in a dorm and I’ve got these two cool roommates,” she said laughing, “Terri is crazy but really nice. She’s from Miami and Samantha is a farm girl from Macon who knits these voodoo wall hangings—they’re a lot of fun. This school is filled with creative weirdos like me.”
“Great,” Reggie said, then not wanting her to think he was totally bummed out added, “Remember Joe? The guy who came to our Biology class? He’s now mentoring me in Big Brothers and we’re going on a hike together Saturday—I’m really excited.”
“Sounds great. Reggie?” she said with a lot of commotion in the background, “I’m heading into my ceramics class now, gotta go…let’s talk some evening, okay? Bye.”
Reggie felt kind of like dissed by Jennifer with a little envy thrown in but it was softened up by his happiness for her. I at least had Saturday with Joe coming up, he thought.
On Saturday, Joe was at their door promptly at 9:00 a.m., and although Reggie wanted to head out right away, his mom wanted to chit- chat. She even offered Joe coffee, which he declined. After Joe filled Carole in on their hiking plans and when they’d be back, she gave up on her need to know more about him. She knew she’d still be at home when they got back and they could talk more then.
On the drive down to Topanga Canyon, Joe initiated most of the conversation. He already knew a fair amount of Reggie’s background based on the agency’s interview with his mom, but he wanted to hear Reggie’s thoughts.
“Your mom seems really nice,” Joe asked, “How’s your dad doing?”
“Better, I guess.”
“He’ll be home soon, right?”
“Yeah, soon,” Reggie said sharply, thinking his dad didn’t know about Joe.
“You just moved to Encino recently, right?” Joe asked.
“A few months ago,” Reggie answered in a sour tone.
“I take it you don’t like it much.” Joe asked—knowing Reggie used to live up in the San Bernardino Mountains.
“I hate it!” Reggie answered.
At this point in the conversation, Joe figured he better try a different approach. Big Brothers told him Reggie tended to be shy and had some trouble in school, but he sensed more was going on with him. Maybe he just wanted to put all that stuff behind him and get on a new path, Joe thought to himself.
“It’s a tough adjustment to make,” Joe offered, “but things tend to work out with time. Bet you’re glad school’s over.” “You got that right,” Reggie nodded in agreement.
“Well, I’ll tell you Reggie,” Joe explained, “I’ve given a lot of talks in schools and I never met a kid like you.”
Reggie perked up and said, “Thanks, I like Biology and your talk was the coolest,” then added, “Were you going to tell me about P12?”
Joe then filled Reggie in on finding P12 seriously infected with the mange and possible life-threatening complications. As he described how bad P12 looked when they re-captured him and the medications they gave him, he could see worry coming to Reggie’s face. Joe told him that P12 was ranging pretty well, so now they were hoping a trip camera photo might show he was in recovery.
“What did the blood tests reveal?” Reggie asked.
Joe looked at him in total surprise and said, “That’s what I mean by very perceptive Reggie; that is the next important question alright.”
“The blood tests revealed that P12 had traces of multiple anticoagulant rat poisons. The poison in bait traps that homeowner’s innocently put out to kill rats. It moves up the food chain as raccoons and bobcats prey upon sickly rats and get poisoned themselves. Then these poisons compromise the animal’s immune systems, making them susceptible to mange.”
Reggie asked, “You think P12 ate a raccoon or a coyote, and got poisoned himself?”
“Probably,” Joe answered, “you know we found two other dead mountain lions that had mange and poison residue in their blood.”
“I hope P12 is okay,” Reggie said with his face turning grim, “People should know about this.” As soon as he said that, he thought about how he didn’t realize there were toxins in fluorescent tubes, then added, “People sometimes don’t know how their actions can affect others and their environment.”
“For sure,” Joe added, amazed at Reggie’s grasp and determination.
Joe’s jeep pulled into the park entrance. Getting out, Joe noticed that Reggie must have forgotten his water bottle. Reaching behind the seat, he grabbed a box and pulled out an olive-drab insulated water bottle with a US Park Agency logo on it.
“I brought you a little gift,” Joe said, “we can fill it at the fountain.”
“Thanks,” Reggie said, with a little embarrassment but a lot of appreciation.
Before they got to the trailheads, Joe said, “Let me show you my all-time favorite tree in the Santa Monicas—a huge California Valley Oak.”
Situated on a hillock, the canopy of the oak enveloped the hill with its three-story high gnarled branches. Joe pointed out the bark, with its distinctive alligator hide surface and said, “The Valley Oak species is the largest oak in North America. I’m guessing this guy is at least 300 years old; growing here way before the Spanish arrived.” Joe continued, “And some grow to be 600 years old. See these cluster growths in the branches—they’re called galls and they provide homes for a tiny wasp.” Then Joe grabbed a leaf and rubbed it between his hands, gestured toward Reggie and said, “Smell.”
“Whoa! It smells so fresh,” Reggie said with a big smile.
“Yeah,” Joe said, “its leaves are known for their woodsy fragrance—kind of the essence of the outdoors.”
Reggie was so blown away by the sensory experience of the tree, he sheepishly asked Joe, “Think I could take a couple of leaves home with me?”
“I’m sure the tree wouldn’t mind,” Joe said as he picked three leaves, patted the branch and handed them to Reggie.
Reggie was enthralled by Joe’s knowledge and love of the tree. He thanked him then asked him, “How do you learn all these things?”
“By caring and studying, I guess,” he said, “nature can teach us a lot about life.”
When they got to the sign marking the trailheads, Joe said, “Let’s take the Musch trail—lots of varied terrain and at this time of day we might run across some of my favorite woodland creatures.”
The trail did some nice dips and turns over and around mostly Manzanita with its red boney branches. All of a sudden Joe looked down toward the end of a meadow and pointed.
“Look! There they are,” Joe said all excited.
Reggie could see nothing really except for a huge rising cloud of dust, not unlike you’d see in the city when they used a leafblower on the sidewalk.
“You mean the dust?” Reggie asked.
“Yeah, they’re right there,” Joe said. “Move slowly, and keep the meadow grass to your right—we don’t want to startle them.”
Reggie looked puzzled as he followed Joe. He felt like they were stalking a white Rhino in Africa. It couldn’t possibly be a mountain lion, he thought.
At the end of the meadow, Joe crouched down and put his index finger to his lips. They slowly peered around the high grass and saw what was happening. Spread all over the ground amidst a tornado of flying sand and dust, were the funniest looking little birds you would ever see—all taking a communal dust bath.
Dozens and dozens of adults and their brown-spotted babies were flapping their wings like landing helicopters. Instead of the sound of the whirling blades, the birds were all making this high ‘Pip Pip’ sound like children screaming on a playground. Reggie couldn’t help smiling as he watched the curved two inch long plume on the top of their heads bounce as they shook, rattled and rolled. Joe and Reggie looked at each other and both let out a belly laugh. The birds took that as an offense and they flushed up in the air then down again into the meadow.
The birds were funnier than anything Reggie ever saw on TV.
“What were they?”
“The Valley Quail,” Joe answered, “Our California State Bird.”
“Heard of them,” Reggie said, “But never saw them before.”
“They’re quite the social birds too,” Joe added, “They hang out like an extended family. A male will travel around with two or more females and their chicks in a covey and he even helps care for the young.”
“They’re really cool,” Reggie said as he contemplated the quail’s more communal life compared to the often more separate family lives of humans.
The rest of the morning hike was just like that. Joe showed Reggie lots of interesting things about plant and animal life along the way, including geological formations, and even pointing out some early petroglyphs made by the Chumash peoples. Reminded of his many earlier hikes with his dad, Reggie remembered how much his father taught him about nature. Then the wounded deer hunting incident shot into his mind.
Joe was different, Reggie thought and toward the end of the trail he asked Joe, “Do you hunt?”
Joe told him, “I don’t, why do you ask?”
Reggie paused before answering as he believed hunting was cruel, but did not want Joe to think his dad was a bad guy. His dad, Reggie thought, looked at nature as a place to play in and use—not to protect.
“Just wondering,” he said.
Joe wondered if maybe Reggie was asking about his dad, who probably was a hunter.
“Hunters actually, can be some of our best allies in protecting the environment,” Joe declared, “They love nature too and don’t want it to disappear either.” He continued, “Careful game management can also help maintain balance in nature. Overpopulation of deer, for instance, can mean starvation when food sources dwindle. Car accidents can kill the animal and humans too.”
Reggie remembered how when his dad even shot a partridge or a rabbit, he would thank the dead animal. He’d bless it by placing some grass in its mouth. At least he kept that Indian tradition, he thought. Feeling a lot better about his dad, Reggie said, “That’s a good point, and it reminds me of the role mountain lions play.”
“Good point, Reggie,” Joe offered as they reached the end of the trail and headed to the restrooms.
On the drive home, Reggie was feeling that some of the broken apart pieces of his life were beginning to come together.
“Did you enjoy the hike?” Joe asked.
“It was great,” he answered, “Thanks for taking me.”
“I enjoyed it a lot too,” Joe answered, “how about next Saturday, after you do some work for me at the agency, we can do the Trippet Ranch hike.”
“That would be great,” Reggie responded and paused a bit before he said “Joe, can I ask you a question?” “Shoot,” he said.
“Why are you doing this?”
Reflecting for a moment Joe offered, “I got to a point in my career when I wanted to give back, I guess; maybe pass along my knowledge and love of nature to others—it’s a gift my dad gave to me.”
“That’s a cool gift,” Reggie said as though he just received it.
On the drive home they chatted about plans for the talk about public rodenticide use and how Joe would send Reggie a photo of P12 as soon as they got one.
When they got to the apartment, Carole had already made one of Reggie’s favorites for lunch, tortilla soup, hoping Joe would join them. Joe agreed and the men ate like they hadn’t in days. Carole noticed how glowing happy Reggie seemed with his new friend and how Joe treated him with such respect, letting him gush on about the trail and the discoveries they shared. She found out that Joe and his wife had been trying to have their own children and figured that must be a reason why he joined Big Brothers.
Carole couldn’t help but compare Joe to her husband, looking alike and all, but their relationship was so different. Joe and Reggie were more like equals, listening and enjoying each other’s stories and perspectives. As the two of them talked, laughed and high-fived, Carole wished to God John would listen better to Reggie and be more considerate of his feelings. She vowed to herself that when John got home, she would find the courage to get him to soften his approach with Reggie, without hardening his own feelings. Damn, she told herself, I have to tell him about Joe before he comes home.
After lunch, Reggie asked his mom if he could attend Joe’s lecture next month on the dangers of rat poisons and Carole said yes. Reggie told his mom about the nice gift Joe had given him. Carole said she had seen the new water bottle. Reggie said, ‘I really meant this gift,” as he pulled out an oak leaf from his pocket, rubbed it between his hands and asked her to smell it.