Irina and I went for a morning run in the fresh, clean, cool air. I noticed a postage stamp-sized sandy beach on the lake. On impulse, I thought I would try a swim. I took off my clothes and dived into the water. I wasn’t sure what Irina, after growing up in Ukraine, would think.
PERFECT BY JAMES MARTIN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 103
Irina was practicing for her interview at the embassy. “What do you plan to do in the US?” the immigration officer might ask. Irina would say, “I’m going to meet my husband’s family.” We had been married five weeks. She would add, “My husband doesn’t like cities, so we are going to see nature.”
I hadn’t been camping in the States for years but my memories were still sharp. I wanted to find a campsite with a lake, the ground covered in pine needles.
“Campgrounds near me” found me “Rancho”, a building surrounded by concrete. The door whisked open automatically and I stepped into an airconditioned office with three people at their desks waiting for somethin…