We park in front of a small diner and are ushered to a table for two.  As I sit across from her with the light filtering in the window, I see a sight I wish I could put into words.  The beauty, the glow, the cheerfulness and playfulness that I witness are enough to energize me more than drinking a pot of coffee at one sitting could do.  

She spears a piece of fruit with her fork and holds it next to her lips.  Winking at me, she opens her mouth while extending her tongue out and down.  With a slight curl to her tongue, she slides the fruit into her mouth, allowing a trickle of juice to escape from the corner.  She takes her finger, wipes the juice, and extends her now juice-flavored finger to me.  I lean forward and open my mouth to accept her offering only to be denied.  With less than an inch from enjoying the taste she carried on her finger, she pulled it away and put it in her mouth.

“Trying to be a tease, huh?”  I say as I sit back.  She giggles as she too sits back and removes her finger from her mouth with an audible “pop”.  

“Oh, did you want some?” she says as she swallows the fruit in her mouth.  Then, looking at me with a grin and sparkle in her eye, she says, “I am sorry, love, I think I ate the last of the fruit or I would offer you some.” 

I pick up my pineapple juice and take a sip, the entire time looking her in her dancing eyes.  After placing my cup down I say, “That is perfectly fine.  I bought the fruit for you to enjoy.  I appreciate the offer to share, even though it was a little late.  You are very generous for offering and I pray that I could be as thoughtful as you are.”  I pick up my glass and finish my juice.  She smiles at me, winks, and begins to finish her ginger-infused tea.

While the drive north to Sedona offers a beautiful view of the landscape, we decide also to explore shops and markets.  We enjoy tasting little treats that each area has to offer and at times sit with each other and allow ourselves to enjoy the beauty of the land.  While sitting on my lap at one of our quiet times, I lean forward to her right ear and kiss it.  

She turns to me with her arm already around my neck, and with the feel of deep longing she melts herself into me as her lips touch mine.  We sit and talk as we enjoy each other’s company.  I find her fascinating; her humor, splashed with yummy darkness at times, her wit, and the way she appears to nonchalantly tease me with herself.  Not only teasing me with her body but with her eyes, the half-mouthed smirk she gives me when I attempt to be a court jester for her.  Just to make her smile, to laugh, to be able to forget about life back home.  To help her lose herself in the moment.  

I hug her tightly and kiss her once again.  “Let’s go, dear, time to hit the road.”  

“But I don’t want to go yet,”  she says as she wraps her arms around my neck tighter. 

I stand up and with her legs still bent and her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, she hangs off of me like a small child would hold onto her daddy’s neck as he walked.  I scoop down and put my arm under her knees and cradle her as I am standing.

“We still have a few miles to drive before our next stop.  We should get back to the car.” 

She stands on her feet and puts her hands to her side.  Looking up at me, she has her bottom lip out, making a pouty face.  

“Why the pouty face?”  I ask with a smile that appreciates the new expression.  

“Because I don’t wanna go yet.  I like it here and it is beautiful.  There are so many pretty trinkets and jewelry.  I just want to look at them all,” she says then crosses her arms.  

“Well, look who is being a bratty little girl,”  I say as I reach for her hand.  A slight smile begins to form on my face.  “I tell you what, I need to go make a phone call.  I will go to the car and you can look around for another fifteen minutes.  Then meet me back at the car.”  

Dropping her hands, she leans forward and gives me a quick kiss, then turns and heads towards the market once again.

I note the time as I head to the car.  I think to myself, the sun will set in about two hours, we are about twenty minutes away from where I want to stop, so fifteen minutes will not delay too much.  I finish my call then check and consolidate the items in the back of the car for our next stop into two backpacks.  Fifteen minutes come and then slowly crawl by.  

I look at everyone passing by, expecting to see her.  My mind begins to race and think that maybe she is hurt or got turned around in the vast amount of shops and exited the wrong direction.  I wait for another ten minutes and see no sign of her.  I check my phone; no messages, no email…nothing.  

Knowing I have a great chance of missing her if I go out looking, I opt to stay in the location established as our meeting place.  Twenty minutes later, I feel two hands cover my eyes from behind me. 

“Guess who,” she says in a cheery voice.

I turn around and see her standing there bobbing up and down on her toes, eyes sparkling, and her mouth in a large smile. 

“Where have you been?  Are you okay?”  I ask.

“I am fine.  I just found some more shops and, oh, you should have seen the old-time taffy pulling machine!”

“Honey! I wanted to be out of here thirty, well, now forty minutes ago!  I thought something was wrong and didn’t want to go anyplace because I knew you would remember where the car was parked, so I stayed here.”

“I knew where the car was.  I just didn’t think you would mind if I just looked around a little bit longer.  I got to see so much artisan artwork and other wonderful creations.  Are you ready to go now?” she says as she kisses me on the cheek.

I smile then turn and open her car door.  As she walks past me she rubs her hand from one of my hips, then as she drags her hand across my crotch she bends her fingers and scrapes across with her fingernails.  She winks at me as she sits down and fastens her seatbelt.

I get in the driver’s seat and start the car.  I look over at her as we begin to move and see that she is looking at me with a slight smile, but her eyes seem troubled.  I smile back and begin to ask her about some of the wonderful creations she saw.  

Her eyes brighten a little as she begins to describe some of the metal creations and other works that did not seem to have been created by human hands.  I listen to her raptly as we drive.  I am amazed at her knowledge and love of the creations that she observed.

After we turn on Route 179 towards Sedona, I tell her we are going to make another stop. 

“Oh good!  More markets and artisans?” she asks. 

“No, not this time.  We will be stopping and spending the night this time,” I say, hiding my smirk.

I pull in to the Yavapai Point parking area.  We get out and she comes over to me and holds my hand without saying a word.  I notice she is gripping it a little tighter than she did before.  

“Are you okay?” I ask as we walk. 

“I am fine,” she says as she looks up at me and smiles, “What is this place?"

“This is a trail park, my dear,” I say in a booming voice as I swing my free hand up and around like I am introducing the first act to the circus, “I wanted to get out on a trail before it got dark.  I thought you would like that.  But we got delayed at the last stop and so we will need to only take a small trail or maybe go on a longer one but turn back partway through.”  

I stop abruptly. 

“I forgot something in the car.  I will be right back.” 

I let go of her hand and hurry back to the car and open the trunk.  I grab the two backpacks and return to her, carrying a pack over each shoulder.

We walk up to a sign that shows each trail and where they start. 

“I’ll tell you what, you find three trails that look interesting to you and I will be right back.  I am going to go talk to the park ranger,”  I say as we are standing in front of the sign.  

I set the backpacks down and go to the information area.

Once I make sure everything is set as I had planned, I walk back and stand next to her. 

“Did you find a good trail to follow?”  I say as I lean into her, playfully slightly knocking her off balance.  

“Hey, what's that for?”  She giggles as she punches me on the arm.  

“What do you mean?  It was your magnetic attraction, I couldn’t stop in time,”  I say as I turn to the sign, “Do you have a top three?”

“Well, not really, but since it will get dark soon we will have to make sure we know when to turn back,” she says, looking up at me.  I see her looking at me through my peripheral vision as I maintain a look of concentration.  

Rubbing my chin, I say as I am just making up my mind, “Well, I think we could just stay on the Yavapai Trail.  The park ranger said that the trails are not crowded today.  So we can enjoy the sights without any disturbance.”

She reaches down and picks up one pack and I grab the other, and hand in hand we begin our trek on the trail.  I smile and enjoy each expression she makes as we explore the beauty and wonder around us.  I marvel at the formations and how they create short mazes of adventure.  The unknown around each corner adds excitement to each step.  The thought of not knowing if there is danger or another view of a splendid landscape keeps pulling us farther and farther on the trail.  

After about an hour of hiking, we see the sun yearning to rest on the horizon, wanting to slip past the horizon line as closing eyes wanting to sleep after a long day of work.

As we are walking, she remarks on the beauty of how the sun changes the colors of the rocks as it is setting. 

She then gasps and turns to me and almost yells, “We need to get back!  The sun is almost down and we need to find our way back!”

I set my backpack down and pull a flashlight out of the side pocket. 

“No worries, I brought a flashlight.  I do want to go check out this next corner, though.  I bet the view will be unbelievable!”  

She agrees and we continue to walk.  As we turn the corner, the view before us shows the sun setting in all of its splendor.

“Oh, how beautiful,” she says as she sits down on a smooth rock.  I walk up behind her and drape my arms down on either side of her neck.  

Bending down, I kiss her right temple and agree with her statement.  I remove her backpack and set it next to mine next to the rock.  I straddle the rock and position myself where I can watch the sunset and have my arms wrapped around her.  

She leans back into me and I can feel our bodies sharing our warmth, physically and emotionally.  The scene creates a surreal vision of beauty and power that almost feels overwhelming yet soothing.

With the sky looking like shades of warm watercolors, I kiss her on the cheek then stand.  

“Are you ready?” I ask as I offer my hand. 

“Will we be able to find our way back before it is too dark?” she asks as she takes my hand then turns to look at the sky once again.

“We will be fine, love, trust me,”  I say as we continue to walk on the path.

“But I thought we came from the other direction,” she says as she turns her head, looking back.

“Did you get a good look at the trail on the trail map at the front of the park?  Maybe this trail had a midpoint that loops back.  We will check a little farther,”  I say as we keep walking.

I bring her hand up to mine and kiss her fingers while we are walking.  It is quiet and we begin to hear the early nightlife begin to announce its dominance over the darkening desert.  A dust devil dances its Faust-like dance across the horizon and garners an “oh” from both of us at the same time.

“I read a Louis L’Amour book once called Lonesome Gods,” I said, in a quiet tone as we continued walking, “He wrote that people believed that in the desert, there are gods that are no longer worshiped.  They are lonesome now.  The only reminders of them are small stone piles at the base of hills or mountains that men that walked before us put there as an homage to the god.  But, as time passed, they were forgotten and they wait.  They wait until that time that someone will worship them again.  Like the dust devil we just saw pirouetting across the desert floor.  That was a lonesome god too, looking for his place among the worshipers.”

“Is that what you believe?  Do you think there are all of these gods around us right now?” she says as she pulls in and holds my arm as well as tightening her grip on my hand.

Inwardly I'm smiling because this is working out better than I planned, but outwardly I have my face set with a slightly concerned or perplexed look.  A look that I hope makes her think that I am getting ready to delve into such a troubling topic that it almost scares me.  Her delay at the market set us back and added thirty minutes.  That gives me a little more darkness to work with in creating a perfect mood.

Lowering my voice slightly and adding a few pauses to enhance the dramatic feel, I answer, “No, I don’t.  I believe there is one God.  But, I do believe there are many spirits.  Many that hang out in deserts or abandoned towns, dark areas of the city or even recesses of our minds.  These spirits are jealous of not getting worshiped or known as deities.  

"They cause problems for the people that are on earth.  We are invading their space if you will.  They do not look at us favorably, we are not worshiping them so they feel that they need to teach us lessons.  Oh, their imp-ness may not cause horrible problems but may deliver little inconveniences such as twisting your ankle on a small pebble that you didn’t even notice on the path.  

"Well, maybe it wasn’t on the path at first, but as you look away, it mysteriously rolls under your foot mid-stride.  You stumble, maybe twist an ankle or fall down, but nothing major.  Something to remind you that you are not out here alone.”  

I take a deep breath and add an extended pause for effect. 

“Could there be one watching you atop a rock or hill?  Maybe there is one just around the next corner.  You walk by and feel this rush of cold air go through you but the temperature is hot and humid.  Maybe there is one hiding in one of the many crevasses that we have passed.  But this one plans to grab you, pull you in that dark crevasse, and take you into another realm that you are unable to escape.”

I can feel her grip tighten and feel her pull in tighter to me.  

“You know, it does feel like there are eyes looking at us, or, or, maybe a presence pressing on us trying to steer us away from safety or something.  I don’t know,” she says then shudders.

As we round the next turn, we see a tent and other supplies set up for a camp.  She stops and tries to pull me back around the corner.  

“Are you sure we can get back this way?  We just walked into someone’s camp,” she says in a whisper.  

Whispering back, I say, “Yes, I am sure, but we will not be heading back.  This is our camp,” I wink and pull her towards the tent.

“How did you have time?  When?  We have been together the whole time,” she says incredulously.

I take her backpack and walk towards the tent while leaving her standing there with her mouth agape and hands in the international pose of “What just happened!”  I unzip the tent, place our backpacks inside next to the wall, and zip the tent again.  

“Love, I have had this planned for quite a while.  I had the park rangers set this up and confirmed that it was exactly where I wanted it.  That is what I was doing when you were looking at the trail sign.”

“Okay, Mister.  I think of everything, what would have happened if I had chosen a different trail?  Did you think of that?” she says with her hands on her hips and a bratty/smug look on her face.

“Oh, wow, good question.  That was a chance I was willing to take.  You may have gotten me there.  I guess I couldn’t think of everything,” I say with a wink as I begin to make a fire ring out of rocks.

“Wait, you thought of that too?  How?  What would have happened if I had chosen a trail that would have taken us far away from this spot?” she ponders this as she begins to help me with positioning the rocks.

Unable to hide my smirk, I look at her, drinking in her first realization that she is losing more control of herself and her surroundings.  I now know she is realizing she has no idea where she is on the trail and could not find her way back if we were separated.  I feel my breathing deepen and slow down.  I embrace the warmth that comes with the primal feel of a hunt, the need to allow the prey the feeling like there is a chance to escape, only to be pounced upon and taken.