Spider Gap

by Kristen Joy Wilks

  Lilly grabbed Emily’s hand on her right and Mason’s on her left. She bowed her head and heard the rustling of children searching for a hand to grasp. Nothing came. No words of wisdom and calm. No implausibly brilliant plans sent by angelic hiking experts. Nothing broke the silence in her mind but screams of help and begging and tears. Not exactly what the children needed right now. Lilly waited out the silence, pleading for something, anything to give these children who had so foolishly ventured into the wilderness in her care. Finally, she broke the quiet with a memory verse from long, long ago. “Ah, Sovereign Lord; You have made the heavens and the earth by Your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you. Jeremiah 32:17.”

  The silence persisted for another impossibly long moment, but it was different somehow.

  Lilly was different. The soft forest noises continued around them, butterflies and delicate blossoms filled the wilderness just as surely as bears and fearsome squirrels. And for the first time, Lilly was all right with that. She would do her best with what she had, in the place that she found herself. She lifted her head and let the sunlight warm her face. Wet drops spattered against her eyelids and Lilly opened them. Dark clouds had rolled over the mountains behind them and were creeping forward in a flurry of deep gray and black with the occasional jagged snap of lightning. It was time to move.

  “I need three volunteers to stay back with Mr. Calvert. They will need to keep him warm, feed him snacks, and fresh water, and stay by his side until the rest of us return.” Strudel yipped and plunged across the path into a large bush. A squirrel gave a sharp, fierce war cry from a tree branch above her little dog.

  “I will leave Strudel with you for company.” Lilly gulped and resisted soliciting a vow from the children to protect her dog from squirrels and other dangers with their very lives.

  Slowly, Mason raised his hand.

  Lilly gave him a small smile and let out her breath when Logan and Jose followed suit. Ok, then. Now for the hard part. “Natasha, did you find that map?”

  Natasha held out a raggedy mess of badly folded paper.

  Lilly unfolded it, bit by bit, and carried the map over to where Tristian lay face down half under a large bush. The pillow they had placed beneath his head was squashed up against a bunch of leaves and a troop of traveling boxelder beetles had inexplicably gathered in his hair. Lilly sank down beside him. “Can you show me where we are on the map?”

  Tristian raised his head and perused the grubby paper. He gritted his teeth and plunked a finger down on a spot along a narrow ribbon of black that must have been the trail.

  Lilly gulped and pushed away her rising panic as she asked the next question. “And which way is Holden Village.”

  Tristian pointed toward a dark stretch of forest ahead of them that buzzed with hunting flies.

  Lilly smoothed the map and tried again. “On the map. Which way should I point the map?”

  Tristian laughed. A hoarse pained sound, but laughter all the same. He ran his finger along their route and let his hand stop at a small dot near Lake Chelan. He raised himself slightly, propping up on one elbow.

  “You guys stay with Miss Park, All right? She’ll get you there safely and I’ll buy us all ice cream at Holden Village if you can get everyone back together again before 2:00 AM.” He flopped back onto the grubby pillow.

  Lilly could have kissed him. Her back straightened at his words. Yes, they would do this and before 2:00 AM, too. Lilly coached the boys as they mounded sleeping bags around Tristian and applied gentle pressure to his wound.

  The other children piled up granola bars and a couple of bottles of water next to their leader’s head. She noticed that her bag of dog food and a package of jerky had also found its way into the nest of supplies. Good. The boys were aware of Strudel’s needs as well as their leader’s.

  She wouldn’t be gone long. Lilly glanced at the jagged black line that represented nine miles of trail to Holden Village. They should have traversed this over two days’ time, but that was before the ice ax incident. Just because she had never hiked nine miles in a single day before, didn’t mean that the task was impossible. They would do this. They had to. Lilly made Jacob the caboose at the end of their line. He rolled his eyes at her juvenile name for his position of importance, but seemed to understand that securing the end of their group was vital. She could not lose a child in the wilderness. Tristian’s travails were sufficiently eventful without eliciting further trauma.

  There was nothing left for it. Lilly gulped down a fortifying breath, placed herself at the head of the line and plunged into the fly-infested shadows of the Holden Village path. She slapped the attacking hordes of insects away from her sweaty skin and urged the children into a slow, agonizing shuffle of a jog. Their monstrous packs swayed and lurched, rubbing against already raw shoulders and causing Lilly to bit her lip in pain.

  Remarkably, the students complied without complaint.

  She caught them sending a few worried glances behind, where their real leader lay prone upon the earth. Lilly, stifled her own urge to send a longing glance Tristian’s way. No, he would not leap up and take over. The rescue was up to her.

  Yes, ice cream sounded like ambrosia. “Think of the ice cream. We will make it to the creamy goodness or die trying!” That sounded less than encouraging. “Never mind that. We shall make it to the ice cream parlor without any death or further injury whatsoever. To the ice cream!” That was better and she might have detected the smallest giggle from Cloe right before the girl went back to swatting flies. They would make it to that creamy goodness, Tristian included. Lilly focused on the trail ahead and calmly began listing ice cream flavors, just in case the children needed mental inspiration.

  “Chocolate, Rocky Road, Strawberry Streusel, Mountain Huckleberry Cheesecake, Licorice… hmmm… perhaps not. How about Candy Cane, Frazzle Ice Fantastico, Praline, Orange Creamsicle, Green Tea, Peach Passion, Brownie Nut Volcano, Fuchsia Berry Mango Sorbet, Coconut Cream Pie, Bubble Gum, Key Lime, Dark Chocolate Coffee Bean, Vanilla Cloud Cream…

  26

  Helicopters and Huckleberry Cream

  The flies only increased their attack as Lilly lead the six students in a running retreat down the narrow, twisting trail. The insects buzzed around her head, zipping close to her ears and eyes and landing on her sweat-drenched skin at every opportunity. Lilly tried to ignore them. What were ten to twenty flies politely sitting in one’s hair and crawling across one’s skin in a calm and orderly fashion? Disgusting and unsanitary, yes, but not nearly as important as getting a medic for Tristian.

  The moment she ceased waving her arms and slapping at her skin, the flies landed. All of them. They did not simply crawl in all their germ-infested glory across her flesh and into her tangled ponytail. Nope. As soon as her defensive measures ceased, the flies made good their attack.

  Lilly screeched and whacked at the ungrateful creatures with increased intensity. “Keep hitting at them, you guys. The flies will not honor the terms of a truce!”

  The children seemed to have figured that out, as they stumbled down the path at a run, slapping at their skin and waving the buzzing black creatures out of their hair in a kind of constant, anti-fly dance that would have been somewhat humorous if not for the pain of the bites.

  “I think these are black flies.” Lilly huffed between huge gulps of air as she ran. “Like the mosquito, they hunt down their prey using the carbon dioxide from our exhaled breath and even our perspiration. Unlike the housefly which vomits upon its meal, allows the contents of its stomach to liquefy the material, and then sponges up the oozy nutrients, biting flies insert piercing mouthparts into their victim, lacerate the skin, and then inject an anticoagulant-containing saliva to maintain blood flow. They are a bit like vampires.” Lilly slapped at her forehead, tripping over a root that erosion had exposed in the trail. “I am gaining a new appreciation for why one might fear a vampire, even though the creatures are purely legendary.”

  At the w
ord “legendary” a wobbly bit of rock turned Lilly’s small stumble into a large tumble. She hit the ground hard. Her shoulder and side skidded across the hard-packed earth and three of the children behind her crashed into her prone body. One of them kicked her cheekbone with a wayward hiking boot and Lilly curled onto her side in the path, holding her face and groaning.

  No, there was no time to ruminate on the import of the painful fall or to assess whether her pain tolerance was up for the task at hand. Lilly brushed dirt and pine needles out of her hair and stood, panting. She hauled kids to their feet, slapped first aid cream and bandages onto a plethora of scrapes, and slowly pushed herself into a steady jog. Perhaps less of the enlightening scientific lecture and more staring at the path with that glazed look common to joggers everywhere.

  Eventually the black flies called a cease and desist. Apparently, they had a specific territory in which they roamed, wreaking havoc, and ruling with an iron wing. As soon as the trail pressed through the dark crouching forest and entered brighter, more sunny environs, their attackers buzzed back from whence they’d come.

  Storm clouds continued to gather, piling up like monstrous mounds of mashed potatoes upon the horizon. Lilly frowned at her chosen metaphor. The clouds were a deep and sooty gray. An unusual color for a potato in any form and not one that would encourage consumption. Perhaps if the potatoes were slightly burnt before they were mashed…

  She sighed and pushed herself forward at a rapid walk. Her legs felt like a pile of noodles, wobbly and torn and stuck to the bottom of the pan. There, a proper metaphor at last. Metaphor or no, jogging was no longer an option.

  The miles crawled by until Lilly was certain that the children would simply drop to the trail in a sad little heap of weary limbs before Holden Village appeared. But appear it did. One moment she trudged forward, dust sticking to her cracked lips and coating her forehead in grit. The next she plodded around a corner and beheld a cluster of small wooden buildings with steep roofs and white trim, painted in a number of pleasing earth tones. Jagged mountains surrounded the quiet settlement, hunched over the valley like great, mossy sentinels.

  Lilly choked down a sob and dragged her limbs into a shuffling sort of zombie sprint toward the large main lodge. A rustic gravel road twined between various small chalets, leading toward the more inhabited parts of the retreat center.

  Lilly rushed past a lady working on a loom and stared longingly at a group of teens whose hair was tied back with handkerchiefs who stood over large tubs of ice cream and dished enormous cones of creamy goodness to a long line of customers. The lovely strains of violin and cello music came from the chapel building accompanied by something that could have been bongo drums. After running here and there all willy-nilly for several minutes, Lilly skidded to a stop. “Sovereign God…please lead us to the right place to help Tristian and—” Lilly wasn’t sure what else to say.

  There were so many different facets to their current difficulty. Should she ask that the ice ax not inadvertently fall out of Tristian’s leg unleashing a torrent of arterial blood? That Strudel would be brave and helpful and bark loudly and not rush into the forest chasing bears? That Mason, Juan, and Logan would keep their heads during any medical crisis that might present themselves? Or should she pray that someone would hand them all double scoop ice cream cones?

  Someone tapped Lilly on the shoulder. She shrieked and jumped back from the mysterious individual.

  One of the young women from the ice cream parlor took a step back and gave Lilly a concerned smile. “Are you all right? You seemed a little, panicked.” She held out her hand and Lilly shook it, trying to sum up their predicament in a couple of succinct phrases and coming up empty. The girl continued, “I’m Megan, the medic for the summer.”

  When a salty sting touched her lips, Lilly realized that tears were washing the dust from her cheeks and despite this, she was smiling. “The leader of our group is injured on the trail.” Lilly managed this much before her air ran out and she stood before the other young woman, at a loss for words to properly explain the horrors of the day in a concise and expedient manner.

  “Why don’t you sit down over here and have an ice cream while I run and get the rest of the emergency responders. If the situation calls for it, I can even call in a helicopter.”

  “I’m not an expert, but I’m guessing we’ll need that helicopter.”

  Megan met her gaze with calm gray eyes as Lilly told the tale of the rogue ice ax and how it was situated in the back of Tristian’s thigh. Megan patted her on the shoulder and nodded once before jogging off toward one of the bunkhouses.

  Lilly shut her eyes and slumped against the nearest building as she breathed out a prayer. “Thank You, Lord. Medical aid and ice cream; truly Your power is more evident than I’d thought possible, especially in such a remote location!”

  She glanced up at the rich, roiling gray of the approaching thunderstorm, furious and lovely and unfathomable. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised. Their surroundings just oozed out an aura of power. The power of rocks too steep and tall to climb. The fearful wildness of animals that could not be tamed or predicted or plotted on a nice little graph. The deadly chill of a pounding wave of hail. The inexplicable ferocity in a cloud of biting insects. The immovable force in a swiftly approaching storm. God had made all this and more. Why did it surprise her to see Him providing medics and the creamy, medicinal pick-me-up of an unexpected ice cream? Lilly had no more words to add to her prayer, finding herself quite at a loss to describe the complicated bits and pieces dashing through her mind. But she turned and stared back at the stark peaks awash in storm and gave the heavens a quiet nod.

  God would know, more than she, what He was complicating and messing with deep inside. And just maybe, someday, when no one was bleeding out on a trail somewhere, He would take the time to explain it all to her.

  27

  Homeward Bound

  The first responders brought Juan, Mason, Logan, and Strudel back on their four wheelers. They got Tristian stabilized and the boys all set with ice cream cones right about the time the helicopter showed up.

  Lilly and the remaining students barely made it back to see them depart.

  Just before the helicopter rushed Tristian off to the hospital in Chelan, Lilly ducked beneath the pounding blades to check on the youth leader. “How are you doing?” That was quite possibly the dumbest question she could conjure up for the moment, but Lilly decided to stick with it as nothing more intelligent came to mind.

  Tristian gave her a wobbly thumbs-up. “I’ll live. Thank you, Lilly. Can you grab the set of keys that are in my left pocket? The church van is parked at Field’s Point Landing. Catch The Lady of the Lake at the pier, disembark at Field’s Point Landing, and the van will get everyone home in no time.”

  Lilly choked down a panicked response at the thought of traveling the waters of Lake Chelan with nine twelve-year-olds who were not strapped into life vests, and then shackled together to a quiet table where everyone employed themselves by working on a puzzle. What if they darted around the ship like rampaging squirrels and accidentally fell over? What if they played tag and slid beneath the luggage and were smashed by falling suitcases? What if they ate a snack up on deck and were attacked by a rabid horde of seagulls? Nonetheless, she kept her reply simple. “OK.”

  Tristian reached out and took her hand.

  Lilly’s heart rate ratcheted up into the stratosphere although her mind explained the action away by recalling that they were facing a medical emergency, and unexpected physical contact often occurred during times of stress.

  “You’ll do fine. The kids trust you. After getting them through this,” he gestured vaguely toward the ice ax that still protruded from the back of his thigh, “they know you can lead them home.”

  Lilly nodded.

  “And since you are here, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” Tristian paused for a long time. Had he finally succumbed to the pain of his injury a
nd slipped into unconscious bliss? “Would you and Strudel care to meet for coffee and a walk along the river next weekend? I promise there are no marmots, but there is the slight possibility we might see a bear.”

  “I’m not sure you’ll be walking anywhere.”

  “That is a problem. If I’m in a wheelchair you’d have to push me over any tricky parts of the trail. You know, fallen logs, quicksand, raging rivers.” He gave her a swift wink.

  Lilly stepped back and raised an eyebrow.

  “Or we could just do coffee?”

  Lilly soaked up the feeling of his calloused hand around hers and looked away before he saw her smile. “I think we can handle the park. But if we’re attacked by squirrels, it’s everyone for themselves. I’m not convinced you wouldn’t use your measly, life-threatening injury as a convenient excuse not to save a date from the furry hordes. I reserve the right to run for my life, with or without pushing that wheelchair.”

  “What if I get crutches and can defend you?” Tristian grinned and drew her hand up to his lips. He brushed a kiss across her fingertips.

  The medics came to fly him away before Lilly could formulate an answer. But as the helicopter rose, sending a rush of wind that snarled her hair and filled the air with blowing leaves, Lilly realized that her answer was yes. Yes, she could trust a crutch-wielding Tristian to defend her from squirrels. Perhaps it did not sound like a profound revelation, but after Strudel’s squirrel-related injury, it was a step forward, to say the least.

  28

  The Lady of the Lake and a Possible Sea Monster