The River

by Michael Neale

  Jacob broke the silence. “I have to head back to North Camp with Tabitha in a few minutes. I would love it if you would join us. It would give us some more time together. I have some things I want to show you there.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready for that, Jacob. I’m sure my mom is missing me by now. I need to head back to Kansas and check on her and the farm.”

  “Gabriel, please. . . don’t go. This is your home.”

  “With all due respect, I’m not sure home is supposed to feel like this.”

  Gabriel walked back across the deck to his room. Jacob left and found Tabitha. They said their good-byes to the team and loaded their gear into the Jeep. Jacob sat in the driver’s seat with the engine running, but Tabitha suddenly jumped out.

  “Be right back, Dad.” He watched her run off.

  Gabriel grabbed clothes from the dresser a handful at a time and stuffed them into a duffel bag. He heard a light knock, then the door creaked open.

  “Gabriel. . . are you here?”

  He looked up at Tabitha but remained silent.

  “Are you coming with us?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not leaving for good, are you?”

  “I’m leaving. I don’t know for how long.”

  She walked to him and took his hands.

  “Please don’t go. We need more time. . . more time together.”

  “I can’t stay. I’ve gotta work this out.”

  “Work it out with me!” she begged.

  “I don’t think that’ll work.”

  “Will you come back soon?”

  Gabriel looked her in the eye without expression.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then good-bye, Gabriel.” Tabitha’s eyes filled with tears as she blew him a kiss.

  “Good-bye.”

  TWENTY - THREE

  A Trip Home

  GABRIEL TOOK A BREAK FROM PACKING HIS THINGSin the dingy cabin room and sat on the edge of his single bed.

  Alone.

  His summer at The River had started with such promise. He was discovering a vision of who he could become, his purpose in life. He was starting to belong and find his way. The beauty of The River, the camaraderie of new friends, the mentorship of Jacob, and the love of Tabitha couldn’t be topped.

  Now it was shrouded in a dense fog of hurt, grief, and unforgiveness.

  What to do next? He didn’t want to go back to Kansas, but it was too hard to stay. The walls to his soul were closing in.

  A thin shaft of light came through a crack in the closed draperies—the only light illuminating the room. In the shadowy space, he could feel the sadness moving in on him, much like when he was a child. Back in elementary school, his “hard days” would grab his emotions and suck him down like quicksand. Terrifying thoughts wouldn’t let go until they had pulled him under.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed The Journal sitting on his nightstand. He picked up the volume and thumbed through it, thinking maybe something there would bring guidance and clarity to his troubled soul. A certain page caught his attention, so he started to read an entry from his father:

  Today was ridiculous and stupid. I just don' t get Maggie at all. And I' m tired of dealing with customers who are rude and don' t respect The River. Some days I just want to quit. Life shouldn't be this hard. . . or should it? Where did I get the notion that my life should be any different than others? I don' t know. I guess my old man was right. An easy life is overrated and boring.

  So, what am I trying to say?

  Don' t make any big decisions on a bad day.

  Gabriel closed The Journal and contemplated the timeliness of his father’s entry. He was making a big decision on what had become a very bad day.

  After a few minutes, he went out on the deck and sat in one of the rocking chairs facing The River. Nothing had changed since Tabitha had left: the afternoon was still lit by a sun-filled blue sky, the fast-moving water shimmered as it flowed, and a warm breeze played with the trees like fingers through wind chimes.

  Only a few minutes had passed when the smell of pipe tobacco rolled in on one of the gentle gusts. A few moments later Ezra appeared, moseying up the stairs, pipe clenched in his teeth. Each hand carried a large tin cup.

  “I brought somethin’ for you. You like malts?”

  “Sure.” Gabriel’s mood lightened.

  “There’s just somethin’ about a chocolate malt on a warm summer afternoon.” Ezra handed Gabriel one of the tin cups as he plopped down in the rocking chair next to Gabriel.

  “Thank you.” Gabriel took a sip.

  “You’re welcome, my friend.” Ezra smacked his lips. “Ahhhhhh,” he sighed. “Mmmm, that’s good.”

  “It sure is. What did you put in here? You always have some secret ingredient going on.”

  “A little chocolate, some malt powder, ice cream, and milk. . . and somethin’ I can’t tell ya.”

  They both had a good laugh as they enjoyed their chocolate treat and the picturesque view from the deck. Instead of more small talk, however, Ezra asked a direct question that caught Gabriel off guard.

  “So you gonna go up to North Camp to see Jacob and Tabitha?”

  Gabriel wondered how he knew. “I found out some things today, Ezra. . . some things about Jacob—and Tabitha. I’m just not sure what to make of it all.”

  “I know. But I think you should go, son.”

  “I want to get past all this, I really do, but all I can think about is. . . he’s the guy! He’s the one I’ve been angry at all these years. I spent all that time with him and he didn’t tell me.”

  Ezra paused for a few seconds. “I can only imagine what must be going through your head right now.”

  Gabriel said nothing. Ezra wouldn’t get him to talk.

  “You see that big rock out there?” Ezra pointed to a large moss-covered boulder in the middle of The River.

  Gabriel nodded.

  “I woke up one morning a few years back and that rock just showed up. Must have fallen from the mountainside in the night. It’s funny how over time that rock has turned into a beautiful addition to the scenery here. That’s because The River never stopped moving. . . In fact, over time the waters turned that rock into its own work of art. . . smoothing the rough edges, flowing around and over it. It’s almost as if The River is showing off that rock like a trophy or something.”

  Ezra paused a moment, then resumed. “Seems a little like life to me. The rocks fall, and we can’t stop ’em or see ’em comin’. We keep flowing. . . moving. . . living. . . and somehow, those experiences become the things that create the beautiful landscape of life. It’s all in how you look at it.”

  Gabriel took another sip of his malt. “How is it that you see life that way, Ezra?”

  “Time. I’ve got more time under my belt. I’m old, son.”

  The two chuckled at his response. Ezra shifted the conversation back to the heart of the matter.

  “He cares for you a great deal, Gabriel. If he could take it back a thousand times, he would. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “If it hadn’t been Jacob, it would have been someone else. Your father didn’t know he wouldn’t come back up out of that water. He just knew that if he didn’t go in, a man would die. That’s who your dad was. You see, this isn’t about Jacob, young man. Your father did not lose his life because of Jacob. . . he gave it. There’s a big difference. What drew you to Jacob in the first place was the man that he is, not the man he was. And Tabitha? Boy, you better not let her go. . . Why, she’s the canyon princess!”

  Gabriel relaxed. Ezra, as usual, was talking good sense.

  “Maybe,” Ezra continued, “instead of looking at Jacob as a reminder of what happened in the past, let him be a reminder of what a great man your father was. Jacob Fielding is living proof of your father’s selfless sacrifice, and hey, if Jacob wouldn’t have made it, Tabitha probably wouldn’t be with us here at The River. We’ve gotta rememb
er that The River brought us all together, and that is somethin’ to be thankful for.”

  Ezra raised his malt cup to Gabriel for a toast. Gabriel smiled as they clanked their cups together.

  “Ezra?”

  “Yes-suh?”

  “Thank you. I’ve got a lot to work through.”

  “One step at a time, son.”

  Ezra tipped his hat as he stood to leave. “Well, I better get back to work.” The old sage hiked up his trousers and started down the steps. When he got to the bottom, he turned back over his shoulder.

  “Oh, Gabriel. When you get back, let’s play that game of marbles we’ve been talking about. I promise I’ll take it easy on ya.” Ezra flashed his contagious smile.

  “You’re on, my friend. You’re on.”

  It didn’t take him long to finish packing his things. He knew what he had to do. He loaded his duffel bags into his truck and then made his way to the kitchen, where he poked his head in the screen door. He found Ezra slicing vegetables on a large butcher block.

  “I’ll catch you later, Ezra. I’m heading to North Camp.”

  “That sounds good, young man. That over there is for you.” Ezra pointed to a brown paper sack on the counter. Gabriel opened the sack and found a folded piece of paper with some handwriting and a turkey sandwich wrapped in butcher paper. A can of crème soda was in the bottom of the bag.

  “Thanks, Ezra! You know how much I love your sandwiches.”

  “Lettuce, pickles, and light mayo, right?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh, and don’t lose that paper. It’s got the directions to North Camp on it.”

  “You’re the best, Ezra!”

  “I know, I know. Now get outta here.”

  Ezra beamed as Gabriel waved good-bye. With a spring in his step and a lunch sack in his hand, he hurried out the door. As his truck rumbled down the gravel drive and out onto the road, Gabriel was beginning to feel the crushing emotional burden he had carried all these years lighten.

  His journey to freedom had begun. He wasn’t sure what was next, but he was willing to start the journey. He couldn’t get to North Camp soon enough.

  Two hours of winding through the breathtaking canyon roads gave Gabriel time to reflect. With his windows rolled down and the mountain air gusting in, he daydreamed about everything that had transpired since the day he got the call from Jimmy. The road trip with Cig, Rollie, and the gang; camping at the beach; hearing The River speak to him in his dreams; the first time he locked eyes with Tabitha; and the first time he rode the big water. From a frightened little boy in Cairo, Kansas, who was scared of his own shadow, to a young man brimming with the promise of love and adventure, Gabriel Clarke was coming alive.

  His heart fluttered as he got close to North Camp. He picked up the scribbled directions from the frayed bench seat and took one more glance.

  At the main intersection (there’s only one) of CF, take a left and follow the signs.

  Gabriel looked up at the road ahead and spotted a small sign glimmering in the late afternoon sun.

  Welcome to Corley Falls, Population 768

  His heart leaped. He hadn’t been back to Corley Falls since he moved to Kansas fifteen years earlier. He vaguely remembered the main drag. The two-pump gas station on the right, a bank branch, a couple of small diners—it all felt strangely familiar.

  Gabriel slowed down when he passed what he thought was his old home. The two-bedroom bungalow looked so tiny! He made a left at the only stop sign in the center of town, then drove a few hundred yards and saw the large painted sign on the right side of the one-lane road:

  John’s Big Water Adventures: The North Camp

  His father’s name on the sign nearly brought Gabriel to tears. He made the right turn into the property and coasted down a steady incline to the gravel parking area. Dozens of rafters, finishing their day on The River, were getting into their cars and heading out as he entered.

  Gabriel parked as quickly as he could and walked toward a rustic building where the wooden sign out front said “Main Office.” He opened the screen door and was taken by the scene. Pictures, newspaper clippings, and memorabilia lined the walls of the waiting area. As he got a closer look, much of what he saw were pictures of his father and grandfather. Faded articles from the grand opening in 1946, pictures of the first rafters to run with Big Water, and dozens of customer pictures—many with a beaming John Clarke—filled the office’s left wall. Their transforming smiles told the story of their life-changing experiences on The River.

  “Gabriel!”

  Tabitha came running around the counter and jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder. To Gabriel, it felt like she was hanging on for dear life.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed.

  “Me too. Me too.” He squeezed her again.

  “Hey. . .”

  Gabriel set her down in front of him and grabbed her shoulders. “I’m really sorry for the way I acted.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No. . . it’s not. I was a jerk. It just happened so fast. Your dad and everything. . . I don’t know how it’s all supposed to go right now. I have to work through some things, but I know that I can’t leave just yet. I really want to be here. . . with you.”

  Tabitha hugged him again. “You know I feel the same way about you.”

  Relief cascaded through Gabriel’s shoulders. Tabitha had accepted him in his best and his worst moments. She was gold.

  “Aren’t these pictures amazing? Look at this one over here.” Tabitha pulled him over to the wall and pointed to a faded newspaper clipping. Gabriel moved in closer and squinted to see the smaller picture. There was John Clarke, standing in front of the lodge with his hand on the head of a blond five-year-old boy.

  “That’s me!”

  “You see that look on your face? Growing up, I always wanted to meet that boy. You know why? Because I saw adventure in those eyes. . . and he was really cute.”

  “I think I remember that day. I recall Dad saying something about smiling for the paper and that I was going to be famous.”

  Tabitha took both his hands into hers. “Gabriel, this was your family’s camp. My dad bought it after he found out the rafting operation was in foreclosure. He kept the name ‘John’s Big Water Adventures’ as a tribute to your father’s legacy.”

  “I’m blown away. I don’t know what to say. When I saw the sign out front, the hair on my neck stood up.”

  “That’s why I wanted you to come up to North Camp so much. You had to see this for yourself.”

  “You were right. It’s amazing.”

  An awkward pause ensued.

  “You haven’t seen the operation yet, have you?” Tabitha asked.

  “Nope. I’ve been here only a few minutes.”

  “Great. I wanna show you around.”

  “I would like that.”

  They walked behind the counter and out the back door. When Gabriel and Tabitha reached the bottom of the four wooden steps, they looked up—and there was Jacob, standing a few yards away.

  Tabitha’s father stopped dead in his tracks, and then a slight and wondering smile emerged on his face.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Jacob said tenderly.

  “Thanks.”

  “I can only imagine how difficult this is for you, son.”

  Gabriel’s demeanor softened even more at Jacob’s choice of words.

  “Ezra helped me to see some things. . .”

  “Ezra’s a wise man. I’ve been listening to him since I was a little shaver. Gabriel. . . I’m so sorry. I hope that someday you can forgive me. I’m not sure where we go from here, but. . . well, I’m just really glad you came.”

  He stepped closer to Gabriel. His steely blue eyes were reddened with sorrow.

  A few seconds ticked by.

  Gabriel lifted his head. “I’m not sure either. . . about where we go from here. I have a lot of questions, ya know? I’m ready, though. I w
ant to—”

  Gabriel’s countenance crumbled, and he buried his face in his hands. Tabitha leaned in and held him.

  After gathering himself, he looked to Jacob, who was wiping away moisture around his eyes as well.

  “Sounds really good to me,” Jacob said.

  No more words were spoken in that moment, but none were needed. Their connection was real and palpable.

  Jacob motioned for Gabriel to follow him. “I’ve been waiting to show you something.”

  Tabitha excused herself. “Someone needs to cover the office. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Tabitha patted Gabriel and headed back to the main building.

  Jacob placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and squeezed as they walked. “The North Camp at Corley Falls is a special place, Gabriel. Since I bought it, I’ve done a lot of work to the place, lots of upgrades and such, but there’s one place I haven’t fixed up much. I figured maybe you’d have some ideas of what to do with it.”

  Gabriel wondered what he meant.

  The two men walked down a rough path that took them to the back side of the lodge that faced The River. A room, appearing to be an add-on, jutted out from the back with windows on three sides. Jacob stepped up and opened the door for Gabriel, who walked in first. Jacob followed and quickly opened the blinds to let the light in.

  Gabriel’s mouth dropped open with a sense of awe.

  “This is. . .”

  “Yeah. . . your father’s old office.”

  Austere and sparse, the few items that lay around the old room were priceless treasures. A rustic wooden desk with a solid wood banker’s chair faced the window toward The River. A few pens in a cup, a rotary dial telephone, and a large mason jar of marbles sat on the desk. To the left, hanging on a hook, was an old, faded orange life vest, a paddle, and a marred white helmet with the hand-painted name “C L A R K E” across the back.

  On the floor, he saw a pair of old hiking boots, dirty and weathered. One wall contained a small chalkboard with a few illegible markings. A solitary sepia-toned picture was pinned to a small bulletin board on the other side of the room. The old photo showed John standing knee-deep in The River just outside the lodge, holding his young son. Gabriel sat down in the desk chair and rested his forearms on the desk.