John and Louise

Louise sat at her desk staring at the glossy brochures; the colorful images of castles and country inns burning into her brain.

"Picture this,"  said John.  "The Rockies looming in purple majesty, birds chirping, the sound of tiny woodland creatures waking on every side.  Suddenly, with a gigantic burst, the sun heaves itself over the mountain tops."

"Not in my lifetime."  Louise said.  "I've no particular desire to wake up in a sleeping bag with creepy-crawly things for bed partners."

"Where's your spirit of adventure?"  Asked John.

"Here."  Said Louise.   "Right here.  Under white flannel sheets, in this lovely Bed and Breakfast, Chichester, England."

"You want flannel sheets?  I'll get you flannel sheets, you can wrap them around you right before you slip into your goose down sleeping bag."  John's youthful enthusiasm continued, "You won't wake up with bugs, either.  Take a look at this tent, Louise, Just  look at it."

Louise spun around in her chair.  "Where's the bathroom?"  She inquired.

"There, there, behind that bush."  Said John, pointing to some stubby, plastic shrubs surrounding a khaki colored tent in his brochure from the Camping Supply Store.

The headline read:  BIG SAVINGS!  HALF OFF PRICES!

"I don't see any telephones.  What about wake up calls?"  Asked Louise.  "What about room service?"

"Room service...room service!"  John threw up his arms in exaggerated frustration.  "We won't need room service.  I'll get up at dawn, make hobo coffee and have the bacon sizzling before your pretty blue eyes are open."

"Yeah, right."  Snickered Louise.  "Who's the one still in bed at ten thirty Saturday morning, you or me?"

"Well, me."  Said John, a sheepish look on his face.  "But, this will be different, you'll see."

"Ha."  Louise feigned a laugh

"Imagine this..." John made a sweeping motion with his arm,"...crystal clear, blue skies."

"No!"  Countered Louise.  "Foggy mornings and gentle mists."

"Paths leading upward to a dizzying height."  Added John marching in place.

"Cobblestone streets leading to pubs with fine brewed English ales."

"Pure mountain streams, bubbling and dancing over rocks."

"The Thames, meandering toward the sea."

"Wild berries ready to eat as we walk along the trails."

Louise pretended to sip tea, "Afternoon tea with crumpets, and REAL linen napkins."

"Wild flowers."  John began violently waving his arms.  "Butterflies."

"No, no, no, bears and snakes."  Louise stated.  Then stuck her tongue out and hissed.

"Bears and snakes?"  Queried John.  Bears and snakes had not occurred to him.  He slumped on to the sofa.

"Yes," said Louise grinning.  "You do remember bears and snakes live in the forest, right?"

"Well, yes.....um, bears and snakes, huh?"

"Yep."  Louise answered.

"Come on, what are our chances of seeing bears and snakes?  Five percent, ten percent, tops?"

"Picture this, John.  You and me, out on your trail, alone, all alone.  A twig snaps.  We stop.  Slowly we turn, and there, crashing through the underbrush is a bear.  A huge, angry, black bear.  We slowly back away.  Hssssssssssss!  We don't look around, we know it's a snake.  Probably a rattler.

By now Louise is leaning over him, inches from his face, John gulps.

Louise straightens and holds out her arms hands upward, imitating scales, waving one arm up and down she says.  "You and me, John."

Then, she waves the other.  "Bear and snake."

John  watched with intrigue and Louise waved her arms up and down.

"You and me, bear and snake...you and me, bear and snake."  Suddenly the hand holding 'you and me' fell to her side.  She bowed her head.

Silence, like death, filled the room.

John coughed, then cleared his throat.  "Tell me more about the English pubs and the fine brewed ales."

Louise turned to the desk, lifted her eyes upward and silently mouthed the words "thank you".  Then, she picked up the shiny brochures and sat down by John on the sofa.

"See, here, west and south of Dover..." she had him hooked, all she had to do was reel him in.