by Melissa Good
“Thought we wouldn’t need it, probably,” Don said. “Sides, we had all that fish.”
“Found a can of peanut butter.” Pete had it clutched to his chest as he hobbled in. “Party time!” He gave the room a wan grin and set the big can down on the makeshift table next to the cooktop. “If we can find something to open it.”
Don started dipping out tea into the pile of chipped and dented cups, and those in the room drifted over to get some.
“Better than nothing,” Pete said, sipping his. “Definitely better than we’ve had the last few days.” He slowly knelt on the ground and rested his elbows and chest on one of the benches. “Hard to believe we started this thing out worried about running out of chardonnay.”
Janet shook her head. “Boy would I love that to be my problem right now.”
“Given what we paid? Us too.” Don’s voice had a bit of an edge. “We were so looking forward to this trip.”
Janet merely nodded. “Yes, I know. It doesn’t mean anything, but I’m really sorry.” She sat down and clasped her hands. “Really sorry.”
There was a little silence and Kerry glanced over at Todd, expecting a snarky comment. But the climb and the pain had knocked the jackass out of him and he just kept his eyes closed, wind burned skin rough and painful looking.
“Shit happens,” Kerry said, in a mild tone. “Let’s get out of here first.”
Marcia sneezed explosively, and clutched her head.
DAR PICKED HER way along the canyon floor toward the river, conscious of Ira ambling along at her heels. The sun was gently folding into the cliff walls opposite and Dar blinked into its reddish gold ambiance.
She heard the rush of water and it was hard for her to decide if she welcomed it or not. Water was usually a welcome companion, but after the rain and the floods of the previous few days she wasn’t sure she wanted more of it in her immediate future.
But at least there would be fish. Dar glanced ahead, seeing the ruffled white of the flowing water. To one side, the raft was still there, still tied up to the boulders on shore, still with its frame bent and dented, but afloat and apparently more or less in one piece.
So there was that. She didn’t think anyone in the group was going to be up for a ride on it, though. There seemed to her to be a better chance for most of them to be thrown off and sent ass over teakettle downstream than to get any place useful or safe.
No engine, no way to steer, most of them sick or injured. Dar shook her head. Best wait for rescue.
Ira caught up to her. “So, hey. One of those girls was telling me about you and the cat.”
Cat. Dar frowned, then her expression cleared. “Oh, the mountain lion,” she said. “What about it?”
“What about it?” Ira echoed. “They said you had a fight with it. As in, mano a mano.” He paused. “Well, womano a cato.”
They reached the river and skirted the battered raft. Rich and his gang climbed over it, shouting in some incoherence as they scaled its frame.
Dar left them to it and worked her way over to the shoals she’d fished before. She rolled her sleeves up and started into the river. “We were in a canyon, sheltering under an overhang and it came after us.” She paused thoughtfully. “Happened pretty fast.”
The river seemed a bit lower than it had been, and it was much easier for her to get into position, or at least she thought it was. The flow seemed less as well, and she was able to get settled as Ira followed her into the water.
“So what happened?”
Dar rested her elbows on her thighs and watched the water. “I stabbed it.” She paused, catching a flicker of motion. “It ran off.”
Ira digested this. “You stabbed it? With that pocketknife I saw you had?”
Dar nodded.
“So are you like the girl Steve Irwin or something?”
“No.” Dar made a grab into the water and caught a fishtail. She gritted her teeth as she scrabbled quickly and got a hold of a set of gills. She pulled her hands out and a medium size trout came with them. “I didn’t have many options at the time.”
Ira pointed at the fish. “Nice. My uncle can do that. I got bit by a carp once and I don’t like doing it.” He held up one hand and displayed a scar on his finger. “Got infected and hurt like hell. I stick to trapping.”
Dar threw the fish onto the shore, then went back to searching. “I live in Miami. I stick to the supermarket,” she remarked dryly. “But my dad grew up in the country. He taught me to do this.”
“I thought you were a computer geek.” Ira waded out and picked up a discarded tub and turned it over. He tossed the fish into it. “Someone said you were.”
“I am.” Dar made a grab at another fish “I have a degree in electrical engineering and a second in computer programming.”
Ira looked over at her. “Wow. That sounds expensive.”
Dar straightened up and regarded him. “I went on scholarship,” she said. “But it was a good investment in the long term. The long term being my current paycheck.” She indicated the tub. “Move that over to the shore so I can pitch into it.”
“Sure.” He lugged the tub over and set it down. He paused to look at something as the stripes of red gold started to fade. “Ah ho. What d’we got here.”
She glanced over to see Ira inspecting the ground, moving sideways and around to let the fading sun hit the sand in front of his boots. “What?”
He knelt, and touched the sand, and Dar sloshed out of the water and put the fish into the tub. “What?” She repeated.
He looked up. “Helicopter was here,” he said. “Probably this morning.” He pointed at the sharp edge of a depression in the sand. “Still clear,” he added, as Dar came over and crouched next to him. “I flunked mostly everything, but they still teach us the old skills, you know?”
“Also worth the getting.” Dar studied the marks that meant exactly nothing to her. “How do you know it was a helicopter?” She asked. “And when it was here?”
“Heavy.” He indicated the depression. “Nothing you all would carry would make a mark that deep. Not even that raft. “He jerked his head toward the craft. “And you can see the wash from the rotors.” He pointed at the sand, which in fact had a pattern in it spraying outward.
“We wouldn’t have seen it yesterday with all that rain,” Ira said. “And I can kinda still smell the gas on the air.” He opened his mouth and lifted his head. “Just a little.”
“Huh.” Dar stood up. “So, what does that mean? You think they were here looking for us?”
Ira shrugged and got up. “Some copter was here, looking for something. Could have been these guy’s outfit, could have been some other outfit, could have been smugglers.” He grinned briefly. “Tracking skills only go so far.”
“True.” Dar folded her arms. “But with the luck we’ve had on this trip chances are it was them and now they’re looking everywhere but here for us.”
“Could be,” Ira said. “Let’s get more fish. At least we can eat.”
“True.” Dar’s eyes twinkled a little. “And it’s something we can do something about.”
“True.” He followed Dar back to the water. “So like with the lion. That’s pretty rad. If you were one of us, you’d get something for that.”
“What, a spanking?” Dar grinned briefly, as she went back into the water.
“No, I mean, that’s something you’d get known for, you know? Maybe they’d name it your spirit animal.” Ira sloshed after her. “You’re not a Christian or whatever are you? I don’t want to freak you out or anything.” He added after a brief pause, “People can get weird about that.”
“No.” Dar settled back into position. “I don’t screw around with religion much.” She noted the fading sun, and the water taking on a black hue obscuring most of her vision. “And if I had a spirit animal it would probably have rabies.”
Ira laughed. “That’s funny, but don’t say that in front of any of our elders. They won’t think so.” He braced his
legs against two boulders with a fast running stream of water between them. “People who come onto the reservation like to make fun of our traditions. Pisses us off.”
“People do, when the traditions aren’t theirs,” Dar commented. “Human nature I guess.”
“I guess.” Ira studied the water.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Dar sensed motion at her knee and grabbed at it. “I’m just logic driven. I don’t buy into the spiritual.”
Ira regarded her with a quizzical expression. “You’re tickling fish out of the mother of rivers after facing down the hunter spirit of the canyon and you don’t buy into the spirits? Really?”
“Really. Excuse me.” Dar tossed the fish over her shoulder and into the tub, then washed her hands in the water. “Too dark to keep this up.” She pointed to the shore. “That’ll have to be enough.”
“That’s too bad.” He followed her to the shore. They climbed out together and walked toward the tub. Dar could hear feeble thumping sounds as the fish inside struggled weakly. “Part of why I love being out here in the canyon is feeling that life spirit.”
He spread his hands out. “You can taste it in the wind, in the water...I feel like I’m part of the earth when I’m out here with no one else around.” He took one handle of the tub as Dar took the other. “My grandfather says it’s the one gift they can’t take away from us.”
Dar considered that in silence as they walked. “I’ve always liked nature,” She said thoughtfully. “I just never felt like I wanted to know it any better.” She heard coughing from the shelter. “I spend most of my time under the water anyway, scuba diving.”
“THAT REALLY WASN’T that bad,” Sally commented, swallowing her last bite of fish. “I don’t think it would ever have occurred to me to use peanut butter as a sauce.”
“You don’t live with me.” Dar was seated on the floor, leaning back against the wall with her forearms resting on her knees. “I really like peanut butter.”
“She really does,” Kerry confirmed. “I use it any time I can.” She paused. “Except on pizza.”
A couple of wan chuckles echoed across the shelter, as most of the group started settling down to get some rest.
Dar waited until everyone’s attention was distracted with trying for some level of comfort. “Want to go look at the stars?” she asked Kerry, who sipped a second cup of tea. Without a comment, Kerry put the cup down. They strolled to the door and outside into the darkness of the canyon night.
It was cool and there was a significant wind blowing up from the river. It fluttered their clothing against their bodies. They found a rock about midway to the river to sit on together.
Kerry licked her lips reflectively. “I really don’t like spam,” she said. “I’m glad you got those fish.” She leaned against Dar and rested her head on Kerry’s shoulder. “Jesus Christ, I hope this is almost over.”
Dar braced her arms behind her and peered up at the sky, which was clear and crisp and full of stars. She could see the Milky Way and it was a moment of quiet content.
Only a moment. “Got some bad news.”
Kerry whined like Chino did at a closed door.
“Ira found tracks he thinks are from a helicopter.” Dar sighed. “From today.”
Kerry whined again, then she turned her face into Dar’s shirt and thumped her head against her chest. “You mean they missed us.”
“Probably.” Dar said mournfully.
“Crap, Dar.” Kerry groaned. “Is there nothing about this trip that we catch a break about?”
Dar put her arm around Kerry. “Rich thinks we can float the raft and just go down the river. I know everyone’s trying to talk him out of that idea, but we may not have much of a choice. Unless we want to wait to see if they come back.”
“That’s why you didn’t say anything about that.” Kerry sighed. “I thought you were being suspiciously quiet.”
“I was bored,” Dar said. “And, actually, I like spam. My mother used to make spam and spiral noodles with ketchup when I was a kid.”
Kerry picked her head up and looked at her. “Did she put ketchup on the spam, or the noodles?”
“Yes.”
Kerry was silent for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you want me to start making that at home.”
“I don’t.” Dar lifted Kerry’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “I love you too much for that.”
Kerry smiled. “So we should try the raft? It looked pretty ratty to me.” She glanced to the right, where the raft was tied. “I don’t think I want to chance that, Dar.”
“Let’s wait for tomorrow,” Dar said. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll circle back, or maybe it was someone else.” She curled her fingers around Kerry’s and regarded the stars overhead. “I don’t think it’s a good idea either.”
They watched as a shooting star suddenly streaked across the sky and disappear. “I wish we were home,” Dar said aloud. “I also wish I didn’t have to think about having spam for breakfast, or sleep on the floor, or not have coffee.”
“That’s a lot for one star.”
“You don’t ask, you don’t get.”
DAR STOOD ON the shelter’s porch, arms folded over her chest as she regarded the clouds now blocking the view of the sky. She listened to the rumble of thunder.
Well, fuck. She sounded the word in her head as she smelled the rain on the wind. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. She felt like irrationally stamping her feet but held off, letting out a long, frustrated breath instead as she resisted acting like a cranky twelve-year-old.
At least the long, uncomfortable night was over.
Kerry came out of the cabin, closed the door behind her and stood next to her, taking up the same stance. They stood in silence for a long moment, listening to the sounds from behind them, loud voices and a long bout of hoarse coughing.
Dar sighed.
“We should go soon if we’re going to,” Kerry said. “Miss as much of the rain as we can.”
Dar sighed again.
“I know you don’t want to.”
“I’m afraid that raft is going to kill us,” Dar said bluntly. “It’s not a matter of what I want.” She pushed the long sleeves of her t-shirt up over her elbows and resettled her hands, tucking them against her ribs. “It’s a matter of risk.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have mentioned the helicopter tracks,” Kerry said, in a mournful tone. “Well, we can let them all go then if they want to. You and I can...” She paused. “We can do something else.”
Dar eyed her. “Like what?”
After a moment Kerry shrugged, then put her hands in her cargo pants pockets.
Dar kicked the floorboard with her boot. “Sorry I’m being an asshole.” She glanced sideways at Kerry’s profile.
“You’re not, really.” Kerry sighed. “We’re just in a cornucopia of suck.”
Dar chuckled briefly. “We are. I so badly want to be out of here but I also so badly don’t want to have that damn thing capsize on us in the middle of a rapids.”
Kerry pondered that. “Could have anyway. Before””on the trip.”
“Before the trip it had a damn engine, and someone who knew what to do with it.”
“Hm. True.”
“And half the people weren’t sick or hurt,” Dar added. “This is just such a mess.”
“Also true,” Kerry said. “Like I said, a cornucopia of suck.” She removed her hands from her pockets and stood behind Dar. She began to massage Dar’s shoulders. “Oh, Dardar. Next time let’s just stay on your island and toast marshmallows.”
Dar could almost taste the sweet, burnt crispiness of them on her tongue. “Mm.”
“Maybe a few lobsters in a boil,” Kerry continued, keeping up her motion. “I’d even take some peach pizza right about now.”
Dar half turned as the cabin door opened, and Ira came out. He shut it and moved away. “Hey,” she greeted him. “Getting pretty rough in there?”
Ira joined them and leaned against th
e overhang support, which creaked softly under the pressure. “People get aggro when they’re sick. I know my family always does.”
Dar nodded. “Yeah. I’m just not sure how many choices there are. So all the yelling’s pointless.”
Ira nodded. “River, or sit tight, or hike another way.”
“Is there another route out?” Kerry focused on Ira with some interest. “That you know for sure?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “My dad or my granddad might know. I mean, at some point there has to be an outlet, you know? The canyon doesn’t go on forever. Way back that away is the reservation.” He pointed to the right. “But there’s a lot of dead-end slot canyons round here.”
“We saw some of them on the way down,” Kerry said.
“So, I dunno,” Ira concluded. “Yeah there’s ways. I just don’t know any of them for sure.”
Dar unfolded her arms. “Okay let’s go look at that damn raft again. Maybe it got better overnight.” She started off the porch with the others following. “Better than hanging out inside.”
They walked down the slope and around the bend to the shallow canyon they’d landed the raft in. It was there, lashed to the rocks and shifting with the surge of the river, banging dully against the stone with a sound like hollow melons being thumped.
Dar walked along the shoreline, looking at the pontoons. There were dents and dings in all of them and the middle one had crumpled inward as though some giant had punched it in the nose. The upper level behind that, where she and Kerry sat, was sagging to one side, the seats bent and the aluminum framing tangled.
After a moment’s pause, she climbed onto the pontoon nearest the shore and made her way carefully across the deck ”“ now missing several planks.
“Careful, hon,” Kerry was right behind her. “You can break a leg up here.”
“You too.”
Dar sidled between the front row and the second row, where all the rattan seats were gone leaving just a bare metal housing. She regarded it thoughtfully. Under the steel structure were metal flaps, and she lifted one up to see stacks of life jackets underneath.
