Nothing Is Negotiable Read Free

took only a minute to find out he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Half the time he spent getting the line out of the bushes along the bank and the rest of his time he spent trying to learn how to cast a fly that weighed less than a gnat.
    The more he tried, the more frustrated he became. This was nothing like bass fishing, he decided. Without a doubt he’d have to take some lessons if he wanted to learn how to do it right.
    Time passed quickly and when he checked his watch he realized Bonnie was half an hour late. This wasn’t like her. He glanced back at the bridge and saw a steady stream of cars and campers moving in both directions. The traffic was much heavier than it had been earlier and he began to worry about Bonnie jogging on this narrow two-lane road.
    Luke hurried back to the car, tossed his gear in the trunk and headed up the road, tracing the route Bonnie told him she was going to take. The road followed the river and a couple of miles down he saw her sitting on a rock, knee deep in the middle of the river. Something was wrong.
    With a rocky cliff on one side and a drop off on the other, he couldn’t stop. He pounded his fist on the steering wheel in frustration. A hundred yards ahead he came to a turnout and pulled over on the shoulder of the road. He ran back but couldn’t find an easy way down to the river and finally pushed aside some branches and vines, sat on his butt, and slid down the rocky wash to the riverbank. He ran the rest of the way through the shallow water to get to her.
    “Bonnie! Are you okay?” he said as he got closer.
    She was bent over with one hand in the water. “No, I’m sick as a dog and I think I broke my thumb. Look.” she said, pulling her hand out of the water to show him. Her thumb was swollen and red. “I can’t believe it, but this icy water is numbing the pain.”
    Luke saw leaves, dirt, and twigs in her hair. Her arms and legs were streaked with red scratches and mud covered one shoulder of her t-shirt. One of her cheeks was red and puffy, as if someone had hit her.
    “What happened?”
    She propped an elbow on her knee and rested her head in her hand. “About half an hour into the run, my stomach started churning and I felt like I was going to throw up. I stopped and started walking. I was right up there.” She pointed to the stretch of road with the steep drop-off on the near side and a bluff on the other.
    “Then it hit me and I started puking my guts out. I heard something and when I looked behind me, a huge camper was coming, hauling ass, right for me. There’s no shoulder and it was muddy. When I tried to get off the road, I slipped and fell down the side of the hill—tumbling, head over heels.”
    Luke pulled dried grass and twigs out of her hair. He could tell she was in pain. “Those assholes. Did the camper stop?”
    “No. I don’t know if they even saw me.”
    “How bad are you hurt?”
    She sighed heavily. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by a herd of wild horses and could puke again any minute. Let’s go back to our room.”
    Ten minutes later, Luke helped Bonnie upstairs. They saw an older man and a young woman, who looked about college age, sitting outside the room next to theirs. On a small table between them was a bottle of white wine with some cheese and crackers. When the couple saw Bonnie their relaxed appearance turned to concern. Bonnie’s pain was apparent and as they pushed their chairs out of her way, the guy said, “Oh my, are you okay?”
    “She took a fall and hurt her thumb pretty bad,” Luke said.
    The young lady asked, “What happened?”
    Bonnie gave them a weak smile and said, “I was jogging and got forced off the road by a camper, and I slipped down the riverbank. But I think I’m okay, just kind of banged up.” She held up her hand, and turned it from side to side, and added, “I either broke my thumb or sprained it really bad.”
    They retreated to their room where Bonnie dropped down onto the edge of