by Pam Webber
Ethan punched his arm. “It’s an infinity symbol, bozo.”
“Same difference. It’s math.”
“It also symbolizes power,” Win added. “A balance between forces, such as male and female, light and dark.”
Cal turned and headed up the trail. “That’s easier to understand than the math. I almost flunked Calculus.”
By midmorning, Nettie had a new appreciation for her increased strength. She and Win outclimbed Ethan and Cal, who seemed to stay with them by sheer determination. She slowed the pace as the trail dropped through a dense, tree-covered hollow filled with thick variations of green on green and sounds that seemed of another world.
Ethan did a slow turn. “This is incredible.”
Nettie had spent so much time in the woods of late, it took a minute for her to appreciate the moment. “It is.”
As they climbed out of the hollow, Ethan ran into Nettie’s backpack when she stopped short.
“A little warning would be nice.”
“Hear it? We must be getting close to the third fall. It sounds different than the first two.”
Rounding the next bend, Ethan pointed. “That’s why.”
Unlike the mirror cascade of the second fall, the third one dove through a long, deep crevice bordered by thick trees and rocks covered with shiny algae.
Cal whistled. “It took some powerful water to carve that out.”
“Keep moving, y’all.” Win cracked an invisible whip. “We have a long way to go.”
Falling in behind Win and Cal, Ethan slowed the pace. “So, when do I get to see this dreamcatcher we’re risking life and limb to help you make?”
“I’ll give you wet and muddy, but life and limb?”
“The day’s young.”
“Maybe you two can go with us to Nibi’s next time and watch.”
“Watch?”
“Nibi says we have to make them ourselves. But I’ll take you out to dinner as a thank-you for getting us here. Fair?”
“Fair.”
As they caught up with Win and Cal, the trail turned into a steep, distorted tree-roots staircase that had them all breathing hard by the time they reached the top. The four of them stopped in their tracks as a powerful echo circled them.
Nettie’s skin tingled at the view. An enormous, shallow cavern had been scooped out of the mountainside, its richly colored, concave wall a chronology of time. In front of the cavern flowed the fourth waterfall. A long, vertical island of boulders filled with craggy crevices housing trees and walking ferns split the fall into two distinct sides. Whitewater churned angrily down the steeper grade on the right, while on the left, calm water flowed into a lagoon fronting the cavern’s rocky, narrow beach.
Ethan threw a pebble into the lagoon, adding another layer of ripples. “What a great place to swim. Wish we could get over there.”
“Even if we could cross those rocks, it’s too dangerous.”
Win inched sideways down the bank to check out a small, high-water pool. “There are minnows and small fish in here.”
Nettie gave her a hand up and scanned the empty treetops. “Hopefully, we’ll find big fish and eagles higher up.”
Cal headed toward an off-trail tree with root knees big enough to sit on. “C’mon, let’s take a lunch break. My legs feel like Jell-O.”
Nettie and Ethan settled on one side of the tree while Win and Cal rested on the other. After eating their sandwiches, Ethan dug two apples out of his pack. He handed one to Nettie.
“So, have you and Andy made up?”
Nettie chewed slowly, then swallowed hard. “Let’s not talk about that. Okay?”
“I realize your relationship is none of my business, but seeing him at the movies the other night made me realize he still cares. You two should talk.”
“Look, it’s nice of you to—”
“I’m not being nice. As long as Andy’s in the picture, I haven’t got a snowball’s chance in hell. Talking with him will do one of two things, either get you two back together or end it, which at least gives me a shot.”
Nettie looked away.
“I’m not kidding. If I have a shot, I’ll stay with Grams and go to school here in the fall.”
“Ethan, you’re a nice guy, whether you want to admit it or not. And don’t think I haven’t given the possibility of us some thought. I have. I like you. A lot. But Andy’s part of me. I miss him. I didn’t realize how much until he wasn’t around anymore.”
“So, you are in love with him.”
“I am. At least, as much as anyone my age can tell. I just don’t know if it will last. With graduation and college coming up, who knows what will happen?”
“Don’t be silly. Nobody knows if love’s going to last. You can promise it will, you can even plan for it, but you never know for sure. Look at my parents. Don’t base your future on what-ifs. Talk with Andy.”
“I’ve tried. Anne’s in the way every time.”
“That says more about her than it does about him.”
“It takes two to tango.”
“No. In this case, it’s taking three. Talk with him.”
Nettie didn’t answer.
“Regardless of what happens, this summer had disaster written all over it until you rang my grandmother’s doorbell. You’ve made it bearable. I want you to know that.”
“Just bearable? Gee, thanks.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m kidding. I feel the same way.”
Win came around the tree. “Y’all ready to get going?”
Ethan gave Nettie a hand up and winked. “Just know that if it doesn’t work out, I’m going to be knocking on your door.”
The trail leading back to the water twisted through a roofless tunnel of boulders that ended at a bend in the rambling creek. Nettie barely noticed the beautiful upstream view as they continued to climb; Ethan’s words kept fighting for her attention.
The fifth and final fall, the most beautiful and most dangerous, loomed ahead. A continuous wall of smooth water plunged off a wide, straight-edged cliff to thrash in a rocky pool a hundred feet below. Karst walls with moss-covered ledges towered on both sides. Little caves pocked the upper walls, some tall, some wide, some deep, but all accessible only to those with wings.
“Win, if we don’t find golden eagles here, we’re not going to find them anywhere.”
“If they’re living up in those walls, we’re still out of luck.”
The trail paralleling the cliff elevated so sharply that the trunks of some trees appeared to grow out of the canopies of others. Nettie used whatever she could find to hold on to as the gravel and mud trail rolled beneath her feet. When she finally pulled herself to the top, the vastness of the plunging valley stole her breath. Swells of vivid patchwork colors rolled toward the horizon, ultimately fading into a blue ridge.
“This view is worth the climb, even if we don’t find the feathers.”
Win huffed and puffed as she and the others pulled themselves over the edge. “Bite your tongue. We are going to find those damn feathers.”
Near the edge of the trail, Nettie stopped in front of a National Forest Service sign warning climbers to stay out of the water and off the algae-covered rocks. To DATE, SIXTEEN PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED GOING OVER THESE FALLS.
Cal groaned. “Now they tell us.”
Farther up, the headwaters split around another island, longer and wider than the first one they’d seen.
“Oh my gosh. Win, look!”
In the middle of the island rose a tall hickory tree with a large, V-shaped nest centered at the top of its bare crown. In it flopped two eaglets, the white patches flashing under their wings confirming their youth.
“Hallelujah!”
Shrill birdcalls bounced off the canyon walls. Two large eagles with variegated brown-black feathers and gold necks paced the lip of a big cave, their wings poised in an alarmed arch. “There’s Mom and Dad. Mom’s the big one.”
Ethan shielded his eyes
to study the nervous birds. “They obviously don’t want company. Question is, what are they going to do about it?”
Win’s gaze bounced between the parents and the nest. “I don’t think it’s us they’re worried about. They’re watching something on the island.”
“Whatever it is, we still have to get over there.” Nettie moved along the bank until she paralleled the narrowest point to the island. One slip, and she’d be the next Forest Service statistic. A thin strip of stone barely breached the surface of the water. “Hey, look at this. It goes all the way over.” Nettie eased down the bank to get a better look at the land bridge. “We can cross here.”
Ethan put up his hand. “Whoa. You saw the sign. That stone is slippery as ice.”
“Not if you go across on your butt.”
Nettie and Win dropped their backpacks and double-tied their shoelaces. “If this bridge isn’t solid all the way down and there’s a current underneath, we don’t want to lose a shoe or get pulled off.”
Ethan and Cal followed suit.
Nettie shook her head. “Uh-uh. You and Cal stay here.”
“Like hell. We’ve come this far. We’re going.”
Nettie pulled a plastic bag from her backpack and stuffed it in her pocket. “Win and I have to do this. You don’t.”
“Nettie’s right. You two should wait here.”
“Either Cal and I go with you or we’ll follow you. Your call.”
Nettie and Win looked at each other, raised eyebrows, then nodded.
“All right. But we go first, and we have to get the feathers,” Nettie said. “You two hang back until we see what the eagles are going to do. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The twenty-foot span of narrow stone had rounded edges and a slick algae-green sheen. Silhouettes of dozens of fish flashed below the surface on the upstream side. “Look at all the food. No wonder the eagles are up here.”
“I wonder if the same theory will help us find a white owl.”
“One bird at a time, please.”
Nettie shivered as she eased into the water, straddling the bridge. “It’s cold, but I’m not feeling a bottom current.” The algae made gripping the stone difficult, but it also helped her slide forward.
Win followed a few feet back.
They’d almost made it across when Ethan called and pointed up. The eaglets’ parents were soaring around the top of the hickory. Their closeness and formidable wingspan sent a clear message.
Nettie picked up the pace. Once she and Win reached the island, they could hide among the trees and boulders, if necessary. When they got to the cay, she scampered to the top, then gave Win a hand up.
“Let’s hope they molted close to the ground,” Win said. “I really don’t want to climb that tree.”
“Me either, but we’ve climbed them before.”
Nettie and Win kept an eye on the eagles as Ethan and Cal crossed the bridge.
Once ashore, Ethan picked at strings of green algae stuck to his pants. “This stuff doesn’t want to come off.”
“Can’t waste time on it now.”
Win put her finger to her lips. “Careful—we don’t know if anything else calls this place home.” Using her quiet walk, she led them farther into the island, skirting rocks, brush, and evergreens. Just ahead stood the hickory, fronted by a clearing containing a small pool and rimmed on the far side by an asymmetrical rock wall.
At the edge of the pool, two young bobcats lapped water and playfully pawed each other. Nearby, under a scrubby bush, lay their mother, thirty pounds of taut muscles covered with sleek black, white, and brown fur. Her tufted ears were relaxed, slanted eyes closed. Not far from where she slept were the bloody remnants of tiny bones and feathers.
“Uh-oh.” Win pointed up as the mother eagle folded her wings and plunged with blurring speed toward the unsuspecting kittens. With a loud, sudden whoosh, she banked sharply, arching her wings to come in talons first. As she grabbed the neck of one of the kittens, the momma bobcat let out an earsplitting yowl and lunged, clamping her sharp teeth into the eagle’s chest right below the throat.
“Oh, jeez!” Jumping back, Nettie and the others ducked behind some nearby brush.
Dirt and feathers flew as the eagle bludgeoned the bobcat with her powerful wings and stabbed at its face with her sharp beak. Screeches and howls roared out of the growing dust cloud. The big cat clung to the eagle’s neck, clawing frantically. The brutal clash loosened the cat’s hold, and the moment she relaxed her jaws to get a better bite, the eagle flared its wings and lifted off. The kitten, dangling from its sharp talons, let out a frightened cry as it disappeared into the face of the cliff. The bloody, limping bobcat grabbed the scruff of her remaining kitten and disappeared into a shadowy tunnel in the rock wall.
Ethan jumped out from behind the brush. “That was incredible! I can’t believe we were lucky enough to see it.”
Nettie shook. “Lucky?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Eagles don’t feed on dead prey. They’ll eat that kitten while it’s alive,” Win explained.
“That’s cruel.”
“To us. Nature doesn’t have the luxury of caring.” She grabbed Nettie’s arm. “C’mon, we have work to do.”
Scattered around the pool were tufts of bloody fur and feathers. Nettie picked through them to find gold ones. Rinsing the blood off in the spring, she and Win counted them into the plastic bag. “Thirty-four. Eight more than we need. Let’s take them all; the extras may come in handy.”
The hike down Crab Tree Falls took almost as long as the hike up. Everything ached by the time Nettie and the others collapsed at the base of the first fall.
Ethan roused himself enough to search his pockets for car keys. “I wish I knew what time it is. I don’t want to drive that hairpin road out of here in the dark.”
Win leveled the side of her hand at the bottom of the sun, then folded one finger at a time until the last one met the edge of the horizon. “We have about forty-five minutes until sunset.”
Ethan raised his hand and did the same. “I get it. Each finger is fifteen minutes?”
“Just about.”
“It’s going to take us that long to get out of here.” He pulled Nettie up and waved Win and Cal toward the path to the parking lot. “Up, you two. Let’s go.”
Nettie fell in step beside Win, their hair damp and matted, clothes muddy, skin scraped and scratched yet again. “We’re a mess.”
“Yes, but we’re a mess with feathers.”
“We’re one big step closer to finishing.”
“Enjoy tonight, because tomorrow we need to figure out what white owls like to eat.”
Chapter 11
Mr. Danes slid behind Nettie’s chair to close his office door as voices filled the hallway. She took a deep breath as he passed but didn’t smell the usual hint of alcohol. It hadn’t taken long to figure out that his ever-present Dixie cup held something stronger than sweet tea, but she’d stayed quiet about it. He never seemed affected. Plus, she didn’t want to do anything that might extend the number of sessions she had to have.
Nettie turned her focus back to the conversation. “That’s it? Choices and consequences? That’s all free will is about?”
Mr. Danes sat on the folding chair next to Nettie and crossed his legs. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but choices and their consequences are a good place to start. Think about it like this: If we make the choice to believe, the expectation is that we will also make the choice to turn away from earthly desires and live the life Christ wants us to live.”
“By earthly desires, you mean sin.”
“Yes. Sins of the mind. Pride, greed, envy. Sins of the mouth. Lying, hypocrisy, slander. Sins of the flesh. Lust and adultery. Believers are tempted by these as much as nonbelievers. And it’s easy to give in, since human beings are sinful by nature. However, the consequence is separation from God, which no believer wants. The good news is that forgiveness is ours for the
asking.”
“John 3:16.”
“Exactly.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s sin and what’s not.”
“I think we know. At least most of the time, deep down. We just choose to ignore the possibility until it’s convenient, which is usually after we’ve done what we were tempted to do.”
“So, how do we stop ignoring it?”
Mr. Danes threw his head back and laughed, too loudly. “The simple answer is to obey God. The more realistic answer is to strive to obey and know we’ll fail sometimes.” Something flickered in his eyes as he fingered the raised rim of his desk. “Romans 7:19: ’For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.’”
“I guess it’s a good thing we don’t have a limit on the number of times we can be forgiven.”
“It’s a very good thing.” Mr. Danes put both feet on the floor and leaned forward. “Now, are you ready to talk about your sins?”
“My what?”
“You heard me.” Mr. Danes opened his hands the way Jesus did in pictures. “Baptism marks the beginning of a new life, which means you have to let go of your old one. Confessing is a part of letting go.”
“Here? Now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“We seldom want to do what we need to do.”
“I may need to, but I’m not going to.”
“What could you have done that’s so bad? Sins of the mind? You don’t seem greedy or prideful. Envious, maybe?”
Nettie shook her head as she thought about Anne Johnson being with Andy.
“You’ve already told me you’re truthful, so sins of the mouth are unlikely. That leaves sins of the flesh.” Mr. Danes leaned closer. “Are you having sex?”
Nettie blushed at the memory of Andy’s hands on her at River’s Rest. “Look, I know you mean well, but I’m not comfortable with this.” She wasn’t sure if the almost dances she’d had with Andy constituted a sin or not, but she wasn’t about to figure it out with Mr. Danes.
“Confession is an essential step for forgiveness. To be meaningful, it has to be specific. We need to examine our sin and how it influences our lives. It helps to talk it out with someone.”
