chased down rolling coins, Talia picked up the doll by its feet and the green dress flew over the doll’s head. She saw the underpants with the pink rose and pulled at them. Something that looked like a piece of gum dropped out and hit the ground next to me. “What’s that?”
Adele had taken offense at Talia manhandling the doll and grabbed it from her and snatched the fallen object. “Pink, you’ve got to get caught up on your technology. It’s a media card.” I just wanted to pick my stuff up and get it back in my bag, but instead of helping me, Adele took out her camera and removed the media card. I heard her mumbling something about New York and then a disappointed comment about there only being a blue screen.
At least D. J. helped me retrieve my things. I picked up a handful of dusty coins, and D. J. got my wallet and the other odds and ends of stuff. We both straightened.
“D. J., let’s go,” Talia said. “The film crew is waiting.” He dropped what he was holding back into my bag and said they wanted some more snippets to put in his background piece and made a joke that he hoped the flavor protesters wouldn’t show up again.
“I’m sorry about that, I really am,” I said, putting the coins back in my bag, but my BlackBerry fell on the ground. He retrieved it for me and I stuck it in my pocket before wiping the dust off my hands. “I’m glad there is one thoughtful person in the crowd,” I said with a grateful nod. I grabbed the media card and doll from Adele. I didn’t know what else to do with the card but stick it back in the doll’s underpants. Pierce, Talia and D. J. took off. Only D. J. had the courtesy to wave and say something about seeing us later.
Adele started to say something, but a young man who looked like a production assistant brushed past us, waving for a group of people to follow him. As we went to get in the registration line, he took his group in front of us.
“Sorry, folks,” he said to those of us in line, “but we’ve got to get them in now.” His crowd dripped of money and I guessed they were big-time donors. There were always different-priced tickets at events like this. I had to grab Adele before she made a scene.
We finally got our turn to register and exchanged our tickets for plastic badges, which we put on around our necks. Then we were directed to the
Adele was so busy looking for the actual BOO, I had to grab her arm to keep her from wandering off. The pavilion was a huge open-air tent with a large number of white-clothed round tables on a floor that had been laid over the sandy soil. A band was setting up next to space for dancing. Uniformed waiters were setting out baskets of rolls and filling the glasses with water. I noticed a woman who looked like some kind of supervisor. I went and asked where Becca and Derek would be sitting.
She laughed. “Not in here.” She picked up my badge and pointed out the
Adele figured out that meant that Barbara wasn’t going to be there, either, and started looking stormy.
“C’mon,” I said. “Maybe we can catch them at the golf tournament.” We backtracked out of the tent and went back toward the registration area and the entrance for the spectators. It wasn’t much help. There was a roped-off section for the A-list and we B people couldn’t get in.
“Pink, what are we going to do? Who cares about sitting in a tent eating rubber chicken. I came to get Barbara.”
“And I came here to flash Robyn’s doll at her parents,” I said. We both blew out our breath in disappointment.
I saw D. J. coming out of the spectators’ area and he came over to us. “What’s wrong?” the blogoir author said. “You two look upset.”
I told him about our predicament, and he thought it over for a moment before his face broke into a big smile. “This is perfect. I finally get to play the hero.” He held out his badge, which said “All Access.” “The dinner for Barbara and all the celebrities isn’t even here.” He grabbed my hand. “C’mon, I’ll get you both in with my badge.” Adele rushed after us, her hat flapping in the breeze.
I was surprised when he led us to the parking lot. “You won’t believe where they’re having it. Those celeb types are so jaded, they had to come up with something bordering on ridiculous.”
We got in his black Scion and he drove out of town and turned onto a road that said Palm Springs Aerial Tramway. I’d heard about it but never been. Neither had Adele. Both of us said we’d always wanted to go.
The mountains were already cutting off the late-afternoon sun and the parking lot seemed dark after the brightness of the desert floor. The cool shade felt good. Even though it was dry heat, ninety degrees was still hot. D. J. walked ahead and said he’d use his badge to get us passes on the tram.
By the time we caught up with him, he had tickets and ushered us into the waiting area. There were only a few people waiting to go up. When I seemed a little uncertain, he smiled. “I told you it bordered on ridiculous.”
I followed the wires that carried the tram up the mountain with my eyes. They seemed to go almost straight up.
Our tram arrived and the small crowd got on. As we began our ascent, there was a running taped commentary talking about how the tramway was built and how everything that went up or down the mountain, including trash, went via the tram. The gondola kept turning, giving us a view of the desert floor below that looked golden in the fading afternoon sun, and then the changing vegetation on the mountain side.
It was amazing; in the short ride we’d gone up to 8,900 feet above sea level. The tram door opened and we walked directly into the station. D. J. led us through it quickly, and I barely noted that there were a few shops and some busy food places. I got a brief view out the window and saw that the station was situated on the edge of the mountaintop and there was a panoramic view of the desert below.
We had to rush to keep up with D. J., and Adele’s hat flew off, but luckily she had attached a tie to it like those on cowboy hats, and it hung on her back. D. J. opened the door, and we stepped out onto a concrete deck. What I saw totally surprised me. Snow! He waved for us to follow. I looked at my linen top and slacks and hesitated.
“Don’t worry, it’s not that cold up here now. They have tents set up with heaters and sweatshirts on every seat.” He wore only jeans and a dress shirt himself. “What kind of gentleman am I?” he said, taking my tote bag. I’d stuffed everything in there and it was kind of heavy and a relief to let it go. He offered to carry Adele’s as well, but she insisted the way it was strapped across her chest, it was easy to carry. My bag grazed his fanny pack as he slung it on his shoulder.
We went down a zigzagging concrete ramp and then out onto the snow. It was a little chilly, but we were moving so quickly, we built up body heat. I guessed it was close to sixty degrees. Still, I was looking forward to the heated tents he’d promised. We passed some other people dressed in open jackets, heading in the opposite direction, and they nodded in greeting. Two kids lagged behind, stopping to throw snowballs.
Walking through the snow wasn’t easy. It appeared to have frozen and melted and frozen again so it was packed down but still slippery. Occasionally we hit a soft spot and snow got in my shoes.
I questioned the lack of a path and wondered about the pampered celebrity types walking through the snow.
“They’re ferrying them up by helicopter. I thought it would be easier to sneak you two in if we came up this way.” I noticed he’d glanced at his watch a number of times, and I supposed he was trying to get there before the crowd started arriving and security might be tighter.
I glanced around as we rushed on. In one direction, the land sloped up to a peak and it was covered with snow and pine trees. I looked back, expecting to see the tram station, but all I saw was snow, more pine trees and an occasional boulder.
“Are you sure you’re going the right way?” Adele said, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. “This doesn’t seem like a very good plan.”
I leaned against a boulder, my feet were wet, and even with the built-up body heat, I was getting cold. The sun had disappeared behind the mountain and the temperature was dropping quickly. “Maybe we should just go back,” I said.
D. J. stepped next to me. “I’m sure we’re almost there. Why don’t I run up ahead and pick up a couple of sweatshirts for you,” he said.
I turned to Adele to say something, and when I’d turned back, he had disappeared in the trees ahead.
“Why did I ever listen to you, Pink” Adele said, hugging herself to keep warm.
“Listen to me? You thought it was a great idea.”
“Right, when we were down in Palm Springs and it was warm and sunny. Nobody said anything about
