by Pam Webber
“You two coming up for air anytime soon? You’re missing a great movie.”
Win giggled. “Eyes on the screen, please.”
Ethan squeezed Nettie’s hand. “Want to give it a try?”
“Eyes on the screen, please.” Most of the couples in the surrounding cars were not watching the movie. If she had been here with Andy, they wouldn’t have been either.
The dancing Cracker Jack box reappeared to announce intermission. Cal and Win slid out of the backseat. “Let’s go to the snack bar.”
Ethan opened Nettie’s door and pointed to the swings and picnic tables at the bottom of the hill. “I’ll get some popcorn and cokes, then meet you down there.”
“Great. I’ll grab a couple of swings.”
Weaving between cars, Nettie zigzagged down the remaining terraces. The dormant movie screen cast a silvery glow across the small park. Surrounded by sweet-smelling shrubs, cricket calls, and lightning bugs, she wiggled into one of the swings. Pushing to her tiptoes, she pulled back on the chains, then let go, kicking her legs to go higher and faster. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the thrill and the breeze.
“Hi.”
The swing jerked in half circles until Nettie could get both feet on the ground.
Andy stood close enough for her to smell his aftershave.
“Hi.”
“I saw you come down here. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m okay. You?”
“Okay.”
“You here with Anne?”
Andy nodded. “You here with what’s-his-name?”
“Ethan. His name is Ethan.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. What’s-her-name know you’re down here with me?”
“No. She went to the bathroom. Where’s what’s-his-name?”
“Getting popcorn.”
Andy took a step toward her, placing his hand over hers on the chain.
“Nettie, I—”
Ethan cleared his throat as he cruised through the grass toward them.
Andy steadied her while she jumped from the swing. He seemed taller, broader.
A talking hot dog burst onto the screen above them, reminding viewers that the snack bar had their favorite treats.
“Ethan, this is Andy. Andy, this is Ethan.”
Andy nodded once. “We met at the lake.”
“That same girl is up at the concession stand, looking for you.”
Chapter 10
Nettie and Win sipped steaming black coffee as Nibi explained how to bow-knot the sinew string to the red willow, coil-wrap the overlapping ends of the wood, then loop the string along the inside edge of the ring.
“Use the first row to anchor the next by interlacing each loop. Pull the sinew taut until each opening is diamond shaped.”
After a couple of awkward starts, the precise but tedious work of weaving the webs was under way. Nibi moved back and forth between Nettie and Win, observing and guiding but not doing.
By noon, with half a dozen rows completed, Nettie noticed her diamonds beginning to lose their firmness. Holding the sinew so tight had irritated the calluses she’d developed while spin-drilling the hole in her amethyst.
Nibi handed her a wide-mouthed jar of fresh-smelling salve. “Rub this into your fingers, then redo that last row. Your web is only as strong as the weakest loop.”
“But—”
“No buts. Tight weave, strong web.”
Nettie knew better than to push. She stood and stretched, then dipped her hands in the jar. The cool, tingly balm gave her instant relief as she massaged it in.
“This stuff’s great. What is it?”
“Ask Win. She made it.” Nibi couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice.
Nettie turned to Win. “You made this?”
“I did. It’s a mixture of cayenne pepper, turmeric, and aloe.”
“Isn’t that the stuff Wade and Skip put on the rock candy?”
“And the same stuff Mr. Carter used in the swish-and-swal-low to get rid of the burning in your mouth. Remember? One form causes pain, while another cures it. My formula helps the pain, softens the skin, and smells good in the process.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were working on this?”
“I wanted Nibi to test it first. Last thing I needed to do was set you on fire again.”
Nettie hugged her. “It’s wonderful.”
Shooing them back to work on their webs, Nibi continued the lesson. “The rows and loops get progressively smaller toward the center, so position your spider mother where she can spin easily. Once she’s in place, keep weaving until there’s a three-inch portal in the middle. Then tie off the sinew with a bow knot.”
When they’d finished their webs, Nibi checked them again. “Perfect. Any tighter, and the ring would bend.”
Nettie scooped more of the healing salve from the jar on the windowsill. Nearby, the feathers in Nibi’s dreamcatcher shivered in a barely there breeze. “Nibi, we may have to wait until the leaves are off the trees in the fall to find nests with the feathers we need.”
“You can find them now if you look in the right places.”
“We’ve been all over these mountains and haven’t seen an eagle of any kind, much less a golden one.”
Win leaned against the porch railing. “We haven’t seen any owls either, for that matter, much less a white one.”
“You’re looking but not seeing.”
“What are we missing?” Win asked. “We’ve searched everywhere they’d feed. They’re not here. In fact, we’re not seeing much wildlife of any kind. Not even their scat.”
“What does that tell you?”
“Something scared them off?”
Nettie remembered Nibi’s comment the day they had visited the Gospel Oak. “Does this have anything to do with the mountains being restless?”
“Most likely.”
“Do you know what they’re restless about?”
“Not yet,” Nibi answered. “But birds are the first to leave when there’s a threat and the first to come back when it’s over.”
“I wish Nature would give us a hint about where they went.” Frustration gave Nettie’s voice an edge.
“Really,” Win added. “What happens if we don’t find them?”
Nibi stood, her mouth set in a straight line. “You two come with me.” Going into the kitchen, she motioned for Nettie and Win to sit at the kitchen table while she strained a cup of dandelion tea. Cradling the cup as if warming her hands, she eased into her chair. “You’ll not find what you’re looking for by whining. The birds you’re searching for are ancient, and they’re smart. What makes you think they’d make it easy for you? You’re going to struggle, as you should, but be smart about it.”
“What are we missing?” Win asked.
“My father used to say, ‘Experience builds the most reliable map.’ You learn by doing. What works. What doesn’t. Where to go. Where not to go. You’ve got to start over. So be it. At least now you know where not to go and what not to do.” Nibi blew across her cup and took a sip. “The Blue Ridge Mountains form a tunnel for the northern winds, so the birds are here. Up to now, you’ve hoped they’d just fly by or that you’d get lucky and spot their nests. That rarely happens—a fact I’m sure you knew but chose to ignore. It’s time to think beyond the obvious.”
Nettie rubbed the calluses on her hands. “We’re running out of summer.”
“Time is the price, and time is the payoff. Your dreamcatchers need to be finished before the waxing moon of August becomes a supermoon.”
“We’ve had supermoons before. Why is this one any different?”
Nibi took her cup to the window and stared into the mountains. “Because it will also be a blood moon.”
Nettie cocked her head. “I thought those only occurred with eclipses.”
“It’s rare, but they can also occur when a supermoon rises at the same time the sun sets. This causes a powerful red aura t
o veil the moon.”
“Why is that bad?”
“Because it precedes a darkness.”
“What kind of darkness?”
“It hasn’t revealed itself to me yet. There are many possibilities, human and in Nature.”
“Will we know what it is before it happens?”
Returning to the table, Nibi put a mint leaf in her tea and stirred, the spoon not touching the sides of the cup. “I don’t know, which is why I’ve not said much until now. Darkness thrives on deception. It will bait and mislead until it is primed and ready to do its worst. I sense ominous power in this darkness.”
Win leaned in. “So, what do we do?”
“Exactly what we’ve been doing: ready ourselves.”
Nettie exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. “This is getting scary.”
Nibi pushed a stray lock of hair behind Nettie’s ear. “Worry seldom accomplishes what being prepared does. Now, see if you two can figure out where to find those feathers.” She went outside, letting the screen door slam.
Win followed Nibi to the door and watched as she walked up to the garden. “She’s telling us not to worry, but she is.”
Nettie rubbed her temples, trying to focus. “Okay. Whatever it means, one thing is clear: We need to finish these damn dreamcatchers. Let’s concentrate on that. Nibi said to think beyond the obvious. What do we know and not know about eagles?”
Win turned and leaned against the door jamb. “They’re loners. Except they mate for life.”
“They’re strong, high fliers.”
“They build nests in the tall peaks where it’s safe. Rocky peaks.”
“Not the rocky peaks around here. We’ve looked.”
“Wait a minute.” Win perked up. “The highest peaks in this mountain range are north of here. If the eagles aren’t here, maybe they moved up there.”
“What would make them move?”
“Predators?”
“Like what?”
“Bigfoot.”
“Very funny.”
“We’ve had cougars around here before. They chased everything out. But we haven’t heard anything about farmers losing stock, and we haven’t seen any carcasses.”
“Hunters.”
“It’s illegal to kill eagles. Plus, we haven’t heard any shots.”
“Weather.”
Win shrugged. “It’s been rainy, but Nibi said eagles like to fly in storms.”
“Fire.”
“No big fires around here that I know of.”
Nettie slumped. “Then we’re back to food. Eagles eat small animals. Mice. Squirrels. Chipmunks. Rabbits.”
“We haven’t seen many of those all summer. Not even around water.”
“Water? If land animals aren’t available, won’t eagles eat fish?”
Win jumped up. “That’s it! Find higher peaks, find water. Find water, find fish. Find fish, find eagles. Crab Tree Falls is north of here, and it’s on one of the highest peaks in the Blue Ridge. Guess what’s near there? A fish hatchery.”
“Isn’t Crabtree Falls way up near Montebello? That’s a two-day hike.”
“Maybe Ethan and Cal will drive us up there.”
Nettie and Win sailed out the back door, across the yard, to the garden.
Nibi nodded as they explained their plan. “Crab Tree Falls has five drops spread over two miles. Getting to the base isn’t hard. Getting to the top is. The trail is steep, rocky, and wet. Plan carefully.”
“Is it cheating if we get a ride to Montebello?”
“No more than riding the Weak and Weary up here. The challenge isn’t getting to Montebello; it’s getting to the top of the falls. You need to do that under your own power. And you’ll need to get the feathers yourself.”
Nettie dropped cross-legged in the shade. “Why couldn’t we have thought about this weeks ago?”
Nibi tossed her a ripe tomato. “Some of the most important journeys start in the wrong direction.”
Hurrying back across the Route 56 bridge, Nettie and Win headed for the train station. They paused next to the rumbling engine to toss a fresh bag of remedies to Mr. Roberts, then dodged crates and workers to make their way to the caboose.
Pic sat up and felt for his bindle, then rubbed his beard as they came inside. “Hey, girlies.”
“Sorry to wake you, Pic.”
“Wasn’t napping, just checking my eyelids for leaks. You two have a good visit with Nibi?”
Win handed him a package. “Yes, sir. She sent you some blackberry jerky.”
Pic pulled a piece of the dark, dry meat out of the wrapping. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes, savoring the taste. “I’d never had blackberry jerky till I came here. Nibi made me some that first summer and has every summer since.”
Nettie winked at Win. Pic told them the same thing every time he got a new batch. She grabbed the back of the bench in front of her as the train lurched. “How long have you been here, Pic?”
“Where? The train?”
“No. Amherst. Oak’s Landing.”
“Since the Great Depression.”
Win propped her feet on the bench in front of her. “I never understood why it was called the Great Depression. Seems like it was anything but great.”
“You’re right. It was awful. It cost my family a lot.”
Nettie caught a change in Pic’s voice. “You grew up in South Carolina, didn’t you?”
“I did. Pa used to call it the better Carolina to tease Ma. She was from North Carolina.”
“How’d you find your way up here?”
“My brother and me got turned out.”
“Turned out?”
“Pa lost his job. The bank took our house. He and Ma couldn’t afford to feed us, so they turned us out.”
“How old were you?”
“Old enough to understand. Nobody was hiring for farm work. Pa said we’d have a better chance of finding a job in a city. We started riding the rails around the South, looking for work and food. Those were some mighty hungry days. If it weren’t for orchards, soup kitchens, and hobo camps, we would’ve starved to death.”
The Weak and Weary shuddered as it started the long climb into the mountains. Nettie lowered another window to recapture the breeze.
“Were you able to find work?”
“Odd jobs here and there. When we made it to the Richmond railyard, one of the old-timers said the pulp mill in Oak’s Landing had put out a call for log loaders, so we hopped a train up here. The mill’s foreman needed young men with strong backs and hired us on the spot. Job didn’t pay much, but he fed us good. He also let us sleep in his barn as long as we helped him with farm chores.”
“Who was the foreman?”
“Nibi’s father.”
Win’s eyes widened. “I never knew that.”
“Wasn’t no secret. He preached good on Sunday and worked at the mill the rest of the week. We helped him with the stonework on his church. When it was done, he’d leave the door open in case any of the workers needed a place to sleep.”
The train crested the mountain, picked up speed, and rode the backside of the swell toward the valley, turning the breeze into a loud, pine-scented wind.
“Where’s your brother now?”
“He died a long time ago.” Pic rubbed his stump. “’Bout the same time I lost my hand.”
A pang of guilt gnawed at Nettie. She’d never bothered to ask Pic about his family. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. Don’t pay to dwell on it.”
“Did you ever go back? To see your parents, I mean?”
“I went back after my brother died, but my parents were gone. Neighbors said they left town soon after we did. No one knew where they went.”
“Is that why you came back here?”
Pic nodded. “I liked this place. Folks treated me nice. After I lost my hand, I couldn’t load logs anymore, so Nibi’s father helped me get a job cleaning the train stations. The yardmaster in
Amherst set up a little apartment for me in the stone storage building behind the station as part of my pay. It keeps me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It’s dry. I have a bed to call my own, food every day, and a reason to get up every morning. It felt like home. Still does.”
“What was your brother’s name?”
Pic didn’t answer. He’d turned toward the window, lost in memories.
Nettie’s stomach flip-flopped as she stood at the base of Crab Tree Falls. The noise of the pounding water had started as a smooth hum at the trailhead below. Now, it roared like a locomotive at full throttle.
“That’s some mean-looking water,” Win said. “Must be all the rain we’ve had.”
An agitated mist floated above them, before settling in the surrounding woods like remnants of a storm. Higher up, hidden among the dense blue-green dips and swells, were four more falls and the large creek that connected them. In the peaks, splashes of gray pinpointed where the mountain’s forested coat had surrendered to millennia of wind and rain.
Cal leaned over the railing to look up. “Grams said these falls have the steepest drop of any waterfall east of the Mississippi.”
Nettie pulled him back. “She’s right. And climbing up is more than a walk in the park.”
Ethan stood at the base of the rugged vertical trail paralleling the falls. “You’ve got to be kidding. We’re hiking two miles up this?”
“All the twists and turns make it more like three, but who’s counting?”
“This isn’t a trail; it’s an obstacle course.”
“All the more reason to get started.” Nettie climbed the stair-like ledge of the first boulder and shuddered as a slithering, pointed tail disappeared over the back edge. “Dammit, Win. I wish you’d get back to seeing those things before I do.”
“I’m trying. Cal, you and Ethan watch where you put your hands and feet.”
Thirty minutes later, they stood beside the second fall that formed a massive figure eight. At the top, spread-out water cascaded down a stone staircase like a white lace veil following a royal bride. In the middle, the fall narrowed, overlapping the lace to race through a crown of shimmering quartz, only to explode into another lacy veil below.
Cal whistled. “It looks like that math thing we studied in Calculus.”
