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"Souvenirs?" he said, secretly pleased that she wanted to hold hands. "Sure. Sounds like fun." |
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Kyna went through stores the way General Sherman went through Atlanta. Cyrus ran along behind her with his arms loaded down with clothing, cosmetics, enough film for an African photo safari and a fur hat that would have made Davy Crockett turn green with envy. In one store Kyna found a lavender lamb's wool sweater that she wanted to buy for her roommate and bullied the poor Pakistani shopkeeper into dropping the price forty Canadian dollars. Cyrus was amazedshe had seemed so normal. |
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They stopped in a small park at the end of the main street and joined a crowd of gray panthers oohing and ahing over a herd of elk calmly munching the grass. |
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"You should have waited," Cyrus said with a grin. "You could have had lunch with them." |
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An old man at the elk-in casually mentioned that moose and beaver were sometimes seen along the golf course on the other side of the river. |
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"Moose?" Kyna exclaimed, her eyes glowing hot with the fires of photo fever. "Really?" |
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On the way back to the car she grabbed Cyrus's shoulder and said, "Wait here," and then ducked into a T-shirt shop. She came out five minutes later holding out a hooded sweatshirt with a cartoon beaver in a Mountie hat on the front. "I got this for you." |
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"Great," Cyrus replied with a grin that was more of a grimace. |
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Kyna dumped her loot in the backseat of the Lincoln, then drove across the river and around to the far side of the lush Banff Springs Golf Course. In addition to the usual acres of manicured greens and fairways, they skirted a small mountain, nearly ran over a family of bighorn sheep and finally pulled over in a patch of high brown grass on the west bank of the Bow River. |
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