Solomon's Decision by Judith B. Glad Read Free Book Online Page A

paved the whole place." Erik closed his camera and
advanced the film. "There. Now, what are our chances of getting to that copse of trees out
there? I'd like to look it over."
    Madeline looked dubiously at the stand of evergreen trees on a low island
surrounded by the many-branched stream and several beaver ponds. "I'm game, I guess.
When I was up here before, we didn't really explore too much." Instead she and Jesse had
picnicked on the wooded slope overlooking the meadow, then made long, delicious love
under a pine tree.
    She half-expected an old, familiar pain to catch at her heart with sharp talons.
Instead all she felt was a gentle melancholy, a sorrow that Jesse's vitality, his deep capacity
for love, was no more a part of her life. She missed him still, but she no longer felt half a
person for his absence.
    "The worst thing that can happen is that we'll get marooned on an island and have
to wait for Bill to hoist us out," Erik said, heading out onto the hummocky area between
them and the nearest beaver pond.
    She could see the ground give under his feet, and knew he would sink were it not
for the thick mat of roots that lay just under the surface of the wet soil. "No, the worst thing
is that we'll fall into a beaver pond and get captured and stored for next winter," she
countered, willing to join in his joking.
    "Even worse than that would be to find a pool of slow mud and gradually sink out
of sight." He turned around to grimace at her. "Ugh! Can you imagine feeling the mud
climbing higher and higher on your body, slick and slimy and completely
remorseless?"
    "And pretty soon it reaches your mouth, and you can't say scary things any more."
She caught up with him and gave him a gentle shove, barely causing him to break stride.
"What in the world is slow mud?"
    "It's like quicksand, only mud, and very, very slow. Haven't you ever stepped in a
mudhole and started to sink?" He gestured. "Your feet get stuck, and the only way to get
loose is to take off your boots. But there's no place to grab hold of for leverage, so you just
keep sinking. It takes a lot longer, but it's just as deadly as quicksand."
    "I don't believe you."
    "You should. I'm the wetlands expert. Besides, it happened to me."
    "How did you get out?"
    "I didn't. I sank out of sight." The twitch of his mouth and the twinkle in his eye
belied his serious tone.
    The going got rougher. Little ponds appeared on the surface and the grasses--and
sedges, according to Erik--became more sparse. Several times Madeline felt the mud grab
her boot and try to hold it. Once it released her with a wet, sucking sound.
    Erik grinned. "See, I told you."
    It was all she could do to keep up with him. His long legs seemed tireless, his feet
never seemed to miss solid roots instead of hungry mud. They crossed the first branch of
the creek by wading a free flowing stretch between beaver dams. The water wasn't quite
deep enough to overtop her boots, but she felt some slop inside, wetting her tucked-in
jeans. Her boots, knee high and easily slipped on and off, were really too large around the
top. She could have bought women's boots, but they were a couple of inches shorter, and
she had wanted all the protection she could get when she helped irrigate two summers ago,
when her cousin Jon was laid up with his smashed foot.
    Erik stopped often, taking photographs or just looking around. His comments were
mostly technical ones, more talking to himself than to her, she guessed. Madeline didn't
have much breath left for speech, so she didn't try. It was humbling to find that her daily
walks to and from work--half a mile each way--had inadequately prepared her for this kind
of walking. She strode along briskly in town and here she was traveling at a slow stroll, but
it was work. She had to watch where her feet landed, had to test the uneven and often
yielding surface before setting her weight on each foot. Breathing through her nose was
getting more and more difficult, because her lungs