SIXTEENJOEL VS. THE VOLCANO
If they were going to climb a volcano, they would need supplies. Most important, Zadie would need to trade in her platform sneakers for real hiking boots—an expense she wasn’t thrilled about, but it beat blisters. A quaint general store with a carved wooden bear lurking by the front door had exactly what they needed: boots and socks; water bottles; sunscreen; bear spray; enough jerky to distract a bear if spray failed; and a topographic map of Mount Ire National Monument. While the girls were shopping for essentials, Joel was browsing a display of men’s T-shirts. He had been wearing the same sweaty hotel polo for a day and a half, and Zadie had noticed him sniffing it minutes earlier.
“How amazing do I look?” Joel said, completely unironically as he spun around to show off his new outfit. The shirt he had selected depicted a brightly colored tableau of a pack of wolves howling at an oversize moon, the kind of art you’d see spray-painted on the side of a rusty Chevy Astro.
“It’s…” Zadie began, flipping through her mental index for a word that was complimentary, but not so disingenuous it was glaringly obvious.
Finn completed the thought for her. “It’s veryyou.”
Joel brightened. “I know, right? I almost bought a shirt with one wolf on it, then I saw this one hadfive!”
“You can never have too many wolves,” Finn said without cracking a smile.
“Totally.” Presumably satisfied that he had made the right decision, Joel pulled the shirt back over his head and went to the register to check out. The sisters followed behind, covertly picking up a few more items Joel would need but had neglected to purchase for himself (a toothbrush, spare socks, deodorant) and adding them to their haul.
Less than an hour later, they arrived at Mount Ire National Monument. The route Finn had plotted for them would take them within yodeling distance of the volcano—the trails leading up the mountain itself were far too advanced for even a moderately seasoned hiker, let alone Zadie, who, even with proper footwear, was unsteady on her feet.
The hike was surprisingly pleasant. Unlike the Constellation Campground, the Obsidian Trail had long stretches of shade from the towering pines.And the best part of all,Zadie thought.No sand.(Although a particularly sharp pine needle still managed to find its way into her right sock.) Indeed, she was enjoying herself, despite the relentless ramblings of one Joel Magliano.
She’d forgotten how much he could talk. Zadie used to refer to Joel as her “pet parrot” because he would talk even if no one was listening. Sometimes she would leave the room during one of his soliloquies, only to walk back in several minutes later to find him still yammering on, waving a spatula around like he was conducting an orchestra. It was no wonder that he and Finn got along so well. The two of them hadn’t stopped chatting since they’d left the trailhead. Zadie had heard Joel’s opinions on everything from the two-party electoral system to cinnamon gum.
As Finn walked, she turned Joel’s green bucket hat over in her hands. She pointed to a patch depicting a cowboy riding a bucking bronco. “Where’s this one from?”
“Wyoming. I was a rodeo clown for a summer.”
“For real?”
“My stage name was Droopy Drawers. I used to pop out of a barrel with my pants around my ankles and try to pull them up before the bull got me.”
“That’s insane. Did you ever get hurt?”
Joel rotated his shoulders so that Finn could see a three-inch long scar just above his right scapula. “Ten stitches.”
“Cooool.”
“You shoulda seen the bull,” Joel cracked. Then his tone turned earnest. “Just kidding. Bulls are incredibly strong.”
“What about the hot dog?” Finn said, pointing to another patch.
“Oh, that’s a good one!” Joel beamed like he wasn’t used to having someone interested in his stories. “It was from a hot dog eating contest at the Ohio State Fair. I unseated the ten-year reigning champion, and he didn’t take it well.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing. At first.” Joel paused for dramatic effect, then continued. “I was driving home when I smelled something funny. I pulled over to the side of the road and checked under the hood, and you know what I found?”
“What?”
“Hot dogs.”
“No…”
“There must’ve been a hundred of them in there! Then some dude—who probably thought I had broken down—pulled over to help me. When he saw me hysterically laughing at my hot dog engine, he ran back to his own car and left me there.”
Finn palmed her forehead. “That’s nuts! I can’t believe that happened.”
Neither could Zadie, but in a more literal sense. Joel was prone to exaggeration—also on the list of reasons she broke up with him. If he said he found a hundred hot dogs under his hood, it probably meant he found one hot dog that he forgot he had dropped himselfwhile changing his windshield wiper fluid. Zadie had seen this exact thing happen with a bean burrito.
Finn, on the other hand, apparently appreciated a yarn well spun no matter how specious it was. “Which one’s your favorite?” she asked, handing the hat back to Joel.