In 1981, at the theater debut of Raiders of the Lost Ark, I whispered to my boyfriend Thom, “Honey, if I couldn’t have you, I’d have Indiana Jones.”
A few years ago, my sister Constance and I spent a week in Jackson Hole, WY, where Harrison Ford has a ranch. I gave a goodbye kiss to my kids and Thom, my husband of twenty-some years. “Dang!” I said. “I forgot to get my hair cut.”
“Why bother?” asked Thom.
“I want to look my best, in case we run into Harrison Ford,” I joked.
From Grand Teton National Park I called in the daily Wildlife Report. “We saw a moose at Willow Flats, a bear, skunk roadkill, and a doe with triplets.” Next day it was a coyote, an osprey with a fish, and a bison that peed in public. The folks at home were very impressed.
One rainy day, after having lunch in town, we walked down the street. I picked at that last stubborn bit of tuna between my teeth, and noted my reflection in a shop window. My wet hair was looking pretty scraggly. “Stimudent?” I asked Con.
She didn’t answer–I turned and followed her gaze–she was staring at the back of a man in tan cargo pants and a matching jacket. “That’s Harrison Ford.”
“Good one,” I said. ” But that guy’s too short.”
“Honest!” said Con.
I’d only glimpsed the guy’s back on a crowded sidewalk. It could be. “Swear. On our mother’s grave.”
She wasn’t lying.
“Oh, my God!” I cried. “They will never believe this back home! I need proof! Photo-documentation!”
I drew my camera and followed, elbowing small children and little old ladies out of my way, but I couldn’t catch up. He jaywalked through traffic and I saw only the back of his head as he went into a ski shop. My face pressed discreetly against the glass, I saw him walk to the back wall, and the display of…no, not whips, knives or even hats. Stuff sacks.
He still had his back to me. I had to know. I entered the store, but panicked, and went straight to the rack of sunglasses on the front counter. A clerk hurried over to help. But there was no help for me; I had just stalked a man who might or might not be Harrison Ford through the streets of Jackson. I bolted for the door. As I escaped, the man glanced over his shoulder.
It was Him. That night the Wildlife Report included a Big Game Hunt and Worthy Prey.
©2015 Naomi Baltuck
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