CHAPTER 29: Cruel Shoes and the glory of Mother Nature’s geological wonders.

Professor T finally finished the backlog of work accumulated while preparing for the current leg of the research tour. Being thus preoccupied, one of the things he forgot was the fact that his old hiking boots were no longer usable. He needed to acquire a new pair for the big Grand Canyon visit. So, while Jack made the gang’s arrangements for an old-school Steam Train starting in Williams, Arizona, to the canyon’s south rim, Professor T did a search for outdoor gear retailers. With the Williams destination poked into Siri’s Drunk Sister’s navigation app, the Chool Bus was underway and everyone was stoked to spend the day in Mother Nature’s spectacular playground. 

The tour Jack arranged included a wild-west themed diversion on a vintage steam train. The “Bright Angel” trail-head was close to a South Rim lodge and the gang was determined to get deep enough into the canyon for some epic photo opportunities before catching the return trip back to Williams. Jack failed to mention the return trip also featured a mock train robbery, fake guns, desperados and all, so that was kinda fun. 

The real attraction was the hike itself. But the fun quickly diminished for Professor T as his feet had gained some significant width over the years and after a half mile or so into the Bright Angel descent, as described by Professor T, the expensive hiking boots he had stupidly tried on and purchased without assistance was beginning to straight-up torture his pinky toes…both of them. At first he pretended like nothing was amiss, but with each passing step those pinky toes were shouting something about those shoes…those cruel-shoes! 

It had been many, many years since last he had purchased hiking boots. He was due for a new pair, but all those years had altered the dimensions of his feet unbeknownst to him…the piper was being paid now. As the Bright Angel journey down, down, and down progressed, Professor T thought about turning back so that he could enter some civilized comfort of the south rim lodge’s gift shop, remove those cruel-shoes, massage his aching feet and learn his lesson. Never, he vowed. Never will i ever allow myself to purchase specialty shoes without consulting an expert with knowledge of conditions on hot, dusty, steep-grade, cliff-addled trails, ever again! 

Professor T kept this suffering to himself and the gang continued their downward descent on Bright Angel’s trail.

Jack was keeping time, he knew the return trip would take longer as uphill is slower going than down. When his phone indicated it was time to turn back, Professor T let out a sigh of relief as uphill would place less pressure on his beleaguered pinky toes. He wanted to exclaim for the universe to hear…HALLELUJAH! My toes are free at last, free at last, thank Zeus Almighty, my piggies are free at last. 

It was one of those funny/not funny situations best consumed visually, but since this is a novel, we’ll just set the scene “screenplay” style:

EXT. BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL – DAY

A scorching sun beats down on the towering red rocks of the Grand Canyon.

PROFESSOR THOMPSON (60s, wearing a cotton Hawaiian shirt, bucket hat, and glaringly new hiking boots two sizes too narrow) hobbles down the switchback.

His companions, BILLIE (40s, energetic, carrying binoculars) JACK (50s distractedly browsing the Bright Angel brochure) and BUCK (30s, strong like bull, sporting a hydration pack), shuffles confidently ahead.

BUCK (Inhaling deeply): Ah! Smell that crisp desert air, Professor! Nature in all her unbridled majesty!

THOMPSON: (Grimacing, teeth clenched in a tight smile) Splendid, Buck! Absolutely… screamingly… splendid!

An animated X-RAY VISION CUTAWAY reveals the professor’s feet inside the boots. His left and right pinky toes are crushed flat like little Vienna sausages.

Suddenly, tiny OPERA WINGS and HELMETS appear on both pinky toes. They throw their heads back in dramatic unison.

PINKY TOES (V.O.) (Singing high-pitched, operatic Primo Uomo Tenor): ♪ O SOLO MIOOOOO! O SOLO MIOOOOO! ♪

     BACK TO SCENE:

Mork Thompson winces as his left boot strikes a small pebble.

THOMPSON: Gah-ha-ha-OY-VAY!

BILLIE: Did you say something, Morkster?

THOMPSON: Just… admiring the stratigraphy! Look at that Tapeats Sandstone! Oh, the temptation to study it from the comfort of the rim! Perhaps near the lodge? Where there are chairs? And air conditioning? And gentle carpets? And ice-cream?

JACK: Nonsense! The real science is down at Havasupai Gardens! Only four more agonizing…i mean, glorious miles to go!

Thompson’s eyes widen in terror.

PINKY TOES (V.O.): ♪ FIGARO… FIGARO… FIIIIIGAROOOO! ♪

Mork Thompson takes another step. CRUNCH. He stumbles forward, trying to disguise his excruciating limp as a sprightly dance step. He does an awkward, desperate tap-dance routine cringingly close to the edge of a hundred-foot drop.

BILLIE (Gasping): Look at the Professor! He’s doing an interpretive dance to the canyon’s beauty!

JACK: Bravo, Professor! Celebrate the wonder!

Professor T violently twirls, grabs a wooden trail sign for balance, and accidentally spins it around so the arrow pointing back UP to the rim now points DOWN.

THOMPSON (Sweating profusely, leaning heavily on his trek pole): Say, y’all! Look at that! The sign clearly indicates that the… ah… South Rim Gift Shop and Toe-Massaging Emporium is actually this way! Down is Up! Up is Down! SCIENCE! Let’s turn back!

BILLIE (Giggling): Oh, Professor, you silly goose. You flipped the sign! the lodge is that way!

Billie points UP the steep, dusty trail. Thompson stares at the endless vertical incline.

PINKY TOES (V.O.): ♪ FIGARO! FIGARO! FIGARO! NOOOOOOOOO! ♪

THOMPSON (Voice cracking): Right. Up. The stairs of eternal damnation. Splendid.

JACK: Tell you what, Mork. You lead the way back up! (Imitating Arnold Schwarzenegger) Show us your leadership capabilities!

THOMPSON (Nodding weakly): Yes… leadership…

Thompson turns around. He takes one step UP.

      SCREECH

His boot hit a solid boulder banging his right pinky toe on the front wall of the narrow boots. He freezes, paralyzed by a blinding lightning bolt of pure agony. His eyes roll into the back of his head.

Without moving his legs, he deliberately tips backward like a felled timber.

     THUD

He lands flat on his butt in the dust, staring up at the blue sky.

BILLIE: Mork! Are you okay?!

THOMPSON (Calmly, eyes wide, holding completely still): I am merely… taking in the grandeur from a low-angle perspective.

BUCK: Incredible dedication!

THOMPSON: Billie… Jack… Buck… listen to me carefully. The canyon has spoken to me. It says… ‘Go back to the lodge. Buy the overpriced padded-socks. Unlace the cruel-shoes. Release the Singing Pinky Toes.’

BILLIE (Confused): The Singing Toes?

THOMPSON (Desperate, standing up, grabbing Jack by the lapels): THE TOES, JACK! THEY ARE SINGING PUCCINI! THEY WANT OUT!

BUCK (Laughing): Ah, sun-madness! A classic hiker malady! Come on, I’ll piggyback you the last fifty feet to the trailhead!

Buck hoists Professor T onto his back. Mork’s legs dangle free. The pressure vanishes from his pinky toes.

PINKY TOES (V.O.): ♪ HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! ♪

Thompson lets out a long, blissful sigh, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder as Jack and Billie plow up the trail toward the gift shop.

THOMPSON (Smiling beatifically): Onward, noble dragon. To the air-conditioned ice-cream station.

[SCENE END]

NEXT WEEK:
Professor T wastes no time consulting an expert at the local outdoor gear ship, taking another stab at acquiring comfortable hiking boots. Next stop, Albuquerque New Mexico. Focus group interviews at Central New Mexico Community College (CNM), then the gang takes another shot at nature trekking on the Embudito Trail.

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