Why didn’t it land? Didn’t the pilot see us?
It flew low over the river, right past where we were standing on the shore, waving our arms and jumping up and down. It went right past, upriver toward a dark bend in the canyon. It rounded the bend and kept going, out of sight.
I couldn’t believe it.
“NO-O-O-O!” I shouted. “NO!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TIME TO GO!
As the buzz of the engine got quieter and quieter, Willie’s ranting got louder and louder. He was slinging a string of swearwords like firecrackers at that vanished plane. I was still jumping and yelling and waving with Lisa, like lost puppets on a string.
Roger stood speechless—uncharacteristically speechless—hands clamped to his hips, legs planted wide apart.
The sun sank beyond the ridge and my heart sank with it. Willie stopped cursing.
And then I heard it again. The drone of the plane! It was coming.
It was coming back!
Roger and Willie joined Lisa and me in our crazy jumping-jack dance. And slowly, slowly the little tin can with wings reappeared. It swooped over us, then skidded along the water not far away, trailing a rooster tail of spray.
We howled and cheered beneath the deafening sound of the engine, and I suddenly found Lisa pressed against me. I hugged her back. We rocked back and forth and I didn’t want to let go. Ever.
But the next thing I knew she was in Roger’s arms, and Willie’s arms, and then we were all doing a big group hug. Kind of embarrassing, but what can I say?
The plane taxied toward us and I could read BLM—Bureau of Land Management—printed on its side. It drifted to a stop and the door opened. The uniformed pilot, a big bear of a man with a bushy red beard, stepped out onto a pontoon and tossed us a line. Willie caught it and Roger and I helped him pull the plane in.
When it got close enough, the pilot jumped ashore, splashing in the last few inches of water. Willie tied the line off around a snarl of roots.
“What do we have here?” said the pilot in a hearty voice. “A bunch of river rats having a party?”
“The Wild Bunch,” cracked Cassidy from over by the fire. You could see that he was hurting, but you could also see that he was coming around. He was coherent for the first time in a long time.
“We had an accident,” Roger said. “The boy here has a broken collarbone and the man wrapped in the tarp probably has a concussion and then some. He hasn’t been conscious all day. Can you give them a lift to the hospital in Green River?”
“Sure. But I only have room for the two injured ones. Good thing I saw the smoke,” the pilot added. “I was about to call it a day. Sorry to scare you like that, but I wanted to turn around to get the wind behind me for the landing.”
“We’re just happy you came back,” I said. That was the understatement of the year.
“The rest of us will row to the pullout at dawn,” Roger said. “We should be able to break down the rafts, load up, and make it to Green River by noon, I’m guessing.”
“Sounds about right,” said the pilot.
“I’ve got some coffee ready,” Willie told him. “Cup to go?”
“A pilot needs coffee like a plane needs fuel,” the pilot said with a grin. He peered up at the sky. The light was seeping away toward the west and dark was painting the cliff walls. “Three minutes!” he said, concern deepening the creases of his weathered face. “Then we gotta go.”
“Water,” croaked a voice behind us. It was Dad! He was propped up on one elbow watching us. His bandage was bloodier than ever and his cheekbones looked like twin sunsets. But he was conscious!
Willie tossed me a canteen and I knelt and tipped water into his mouth. This time it slipped between his parched lips and stayed in. His Adam’s apple jerked up and down like the trigger of a pistol. He looked bad, but he was alive and glugging water. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“This boy here,” Dad rasped, nodding to Cassidy. “He … he …”
We were all dead silent as we waited for his next words.
“He saved my life,” Dad said with a sigh, like he’d just dropped a terrible load from his shoulders. He couldn’t talk anymore and slumped back to the ground.
We all looked at Cassidy.
“What happened back there, son?” Willie said, squatting beside him as he poured some steaming coffee into a tin mug for the pilot.
“Dude. The wind. It flipped us.” His voice sounded like sandpaper. “He busted his head open on an oarlock and fell into the river. We both did. He was drowning. I was able to grab him before the current did, and drag him to shore. He was out, man. Scalp leaking like a rusty faucet. The raft had snagged on a log and I was able to pull it in to shore too. Then I gave your dad some CPR.”
The pilot blew on his coffee.
“So why did you carry him off the beach?” Roger asked. “Why didn’t you wait for us?”
“Dude! I figured you guys would hole up all night to wait out the wind. So I decided we needed to get out of the canyon and try to signal a plane or this old man was gonna bite it, you know?”
“He could yet,” said the pilot, suddenly jumping to his feet. “If I don’t catch the last bit of light and get him to the medical clinic in Green River. Gotta get you there too, young man, by the look of things. Get you patched up.”
The burly pilot blew on his coffee once more and slurped one loud sip. He dashed the rest of it into the sand and said, “Time to go!”
As I helped Cassidy to his feet and walked him toward the plane, I asked him the last question that had been plaguing me for so long: “When you fell and broke your collarbone, why did you leave my dad on the trail and go on ahead? I don’t get it.”
Cassidy laughed. “Why do you think? I had to crawl out from beneath him and then I just kept on crawling. I thought I could make it up to the plateau and flag a plane down. Like this one, here.”
“In the dark?”
“It woulda been dawn, dummy.”
I sat Cassidy down next to the plane, then helped the pilot unload and carry a rolled-up stretcher back to the fire for my dad. It was just starting to sink in, the awesomeness of what Cassidy had done, as I helped load my dad, as gently as possible, onto the stretcher.
Roger, Willie, Lisa, and I each grabbed a handle and lifted Dad up. As we neared the plane, Dad called out, “Wait!”
“Cassidy,” he rasped. “Thanks, man.” His bloodshot eyes welled with tears.
And for the first time on the trip, so did mine.
“You’re okay, dude,” Cassidy said, holding Dad’s gaze for a long second. Then we wrestled the stretcher into the back of the cockpit.
“Hang in there, Dad!” I said, squeezing his hand. “You’ll be up and kicking in no time! We’ll row out of here first thing in the morning and come straight to the hospital and see you.”
For a moment—just a moment—it felt like I was the father and he the son.
Dad made a little wave of his hand, then his eyes closed. He seemed to be at peace, maybe already asleep.
Next, Lisa and I jumped down to help Cassidy into the plane. We each hooked an arm around him, being careful of his collarbone. Between us, we stumble-walked him to the plane, then helped him aboard. Once we got him onto the pontoon, I looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time.
“Thanks for saving my dad, Cassidy,” I said. “I owe you one.” It wasn’t easy for me to say it.
“Anytime, dude,” he said. “I owe you one, too. For snatching me off that branch before it snapped. I woulda bit it for sure. And Lisa,” he turned to her, “next time I’m in a runaway raft, I hope you’re there to save my butt again.”
Cassidy grinned at us. A real smile, not a smirk or a sneer.
We stood stunned and speechless, maybe even a little embarrassed. Who knew Cassidy could ever be a nice, normal guy? Lisa broke the awkward moment by giving Cassidy a half-hug. I could see him wincing from the pain. Finally, Lisa pulled away and Cassi
dy gave me a nod.
“Later, dude,” he said, ducking inside the crowded cockpit.
“Later, Cassidy.”
I yelled good-bye to my dad and jumped into the shallows. I was filled to overflowing. With all of it. The trip, the emotions, everything.
And suddenly the tears that had been welling in my eyes overflowed, like a dam bursting.
I turned away so no one would see and wiped my cheeks. Then I turned back and watched Willie and Roger untie the line and push the plane out into the current.
We waved as the pilot fired up the engine, taxied out, and slowly gathered speed. Soon the plane roared down the river and lifted off.
It quickly shrunk to the size of a bird in the twilight, its wings as thin as the line between hope and despair.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
OLYMPIC CHAMP
The night was bursting with stars and, despite our exhaustion, we sat around the fire eating and celebrating. And talked about Cassidy.
“Oh man,” I said. “I can’t get over what he did. What he was able to do. He was actually planning to carry my dad clear up to the Tavaputs Plateau, and wave down a plane.” The thought was so huge and airy that it stopped me talking but kept me thinking. Wow! He did all that and he didn’t even like my dad. Maybe even hated him. What a guy.
“Yeah, he must’ve stumbled on a root or something,” Willie said. “Then in his delirium, he kept on going, trying to reach the top. That boy’s got more guts than sense.”
“But how’s it possible for him to carry a grown man so far up that steep trail?” Lisa asked.
“He pumps iron,” Willie said. “Bench-presses two hundred pounds.”
Lisa elbowed me. “How much can you bench-press, Aaron? That’s about twice as much as you weigh! Am I right?”
I made a fist and shook it at her. She made a fist back. Then she said, “You ever think of throwing the javelin, Aaron? The way you threw that oar, you might become an Olympic champ yet!” The whites of her teeth almost knocked me into the fire.
“Yarrr,” said Roger with his pirate growl. “Ye make a fine scallywag in a pinch, me good man, Aaron!”
And so does Cassidy, I thought.
We all talked at once then, and went back to filling our faces. Wild Man Willie had made a feast with a ten-pound slab of New York steak and a dozen baked potatoes.
It was quite possibly the best meal I had ever eaten and probably ever will.
That night, as overtired as I was, I lay awake, alone, in our tent, listening to the river making its midnight utterances. Being here now without Dad made me think about him, the trip, all of it. I thought about the eighty-four miles we had rafted down the Green River, the beauty of the canyon, the peace of the river. I also thought about the terror of some of those rapids and the terror of almost losing my dad. I felt, well, grateful about being able to marvel at it all. And about being able to balance the beauty and the terror. And I felt good about myself, for a change. I didn’t freeze when Cassidy fell off the cliff. I followed my instinct and sprang. And I jumped to the oars when I was most needed. Like Roger had said, I was “a fine scallywag in a pinch.” And who knew, maybe Lisa was right that I could be “an Olympic champ yet.”
Lisa. For the first time, I felt like there was a girl out there who really liked me. Liked being with me, liked who I am. I could even talk to her! My tongue, at least for now, no longer got tied into impossible knots whenever we spoke. Maybe we could stay friends, even after the trip. Weirder things have happened, right?
The last thing I remember before falling asleep, like a stone sinking into a deep pool, was the sound of the river passing twenty feet from my head. And what Dad had said that first day, about how I’d learn to read the river like a pro.
Thanks, Dad. I had learned to read the river and I liked what I read.
And, now that I thought about it, I was even starting to like myself.
EPILOGUE
In the morning, we broke camp and rowed the last easy stretch to the take-out at Swasey’s Rapid. There, we deflated the rafts, folded them, and carried all the gear to our waiting pickup truck and van. Chores finished, we drove the ten miles to the medical clinic in Green River to see Cassidy and my dad.
But when we got there, they were gone!
A nurse told us they’d been airlifted by helicopter to a hospital in Salt Lake City. We stood there in the reception room, stunned.
But then the nurse explained that they’d treated Cassidy and my dad for exposure and dehydration, stitched Dad’s forehead, and gotten their conditions stabilized. But Dad, because of his concussion, needed to be checked for head trauma. Plus, Cassidy’s broken collarbone was a compound fracture and he needed immediate surgery. So off they had gone, even further away from us. The nurse told us not to worry and helped us call the hospital in Salt Lake City.
The doctor there told us Dad had gotten an MRI and a CT scan and his brain was fine. Phew! I wanted to talk to him but he was asleep. The doctor said his condition was stable and they wanted to keep him under observation for one more night. If all went well—and the doctor assured me that it would—Dad would be released the next day at noon.
Willie talked to the doctor next. Apparently, the surgery on Cassidy’s fracture had gone smoothly and there was nothing to worry about. They had screwed a steel plate into his shattered collarbone and it would take about two months to heal.
On the long drive to Salt Lake City, Lisa sat beside me in Roger’s battered old pickup. Her arm pressed against mine as we bounced along the highway through Utah’s high desert. I didn’t lean away.
“So you want to do this again next year?” she asked. “We might go down the Owyhee or the Snake. We might even do a kayak trip next time.”
“Do you want to?” I asked.
“If you do.”
“Me too.”
“What if Cassidy goes?” She smiled and looked deep inside me with those big dark eyes.
I thought about it for a moment.
“Sure,” I said.
And I meant it.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Describe Desolation Canyon’s younger characters: Aaron, Lisa, and Cassidy. How are they alike, and how are they different? Which of the three characters can you relate to the most? Why? Give examples from the book to support your answer.
2. How would you describe Cassidy’s behavior toward Aaron? Have you or one of your friends ever been in a similar situation? What do you think about Aaron’s responses to Cassidy? Do you think the adults should have intervened more? If so, how?
3. How would the story have been different if it had been written from Cassidy’s or Lisa’s point of view instead of Aaron’s?
4. What is the setting for this story? How does the setting help drive the plot? Can you think of another setting that would offer the same types of challenges?
5. “Hey, pard. How ya doin’?” is an example of dialect. How does the author’s use of dialect add to or take away from the story? Give examples from the book.
6. The characters in this story survive many difficult challenges, both physical and emotional. Describe one obstacle a character overcomes in this story. Include details from the book about the problem and how it was solved.
7. Like a white-water rafting trip, this story has wild places and calmer passages. How does the author set the mood for these different parts of the story? Give examples from the book to support your answer.
8. Think about the meaning of the word desolation. How does that part of the title apply to the story? Consider both the reasons given for the canyon name in the book and other reasons the author may have had for using that word.
9. Lisa is the only girl on the trip. How is her experience the same as or different from everyone else’s? How would the story have been different if the author had chosen to make the rafters all one gender?
10. How is Aaron’s relationship with his father the same as or different from the relationships Lisa and Cassidy have with thei
r dads?
11. What clues did the author give about what happened to Aaron’s dad before they found him?
12. Did your opinion of Cassidy change at the end of the story? Why or why not?
13. How is Desolation Canyon similar to another book you’ve read?
14. At the end of the book, Lisa and Aaron discuss plans for the following summer. What did they decide? What do you think of their decision? Why?
15. What is a major theme of this story? What main ideas do you think the author wants you to take away? Support your ideas with examples from the book.
Best-selling author Jonathan London has written more than one hundred picture books for children, many of them about wildlife. He is also the author of the popular Froggy series. He lives with his wife in northern California. www.jonathan-london.net
Sean London was a white-water rafter and a professional dancer while still in high school. He received a BFA from CalArts in Character Animation and has done animation for Disney. Desolation Canyon is his first illustrated book, and his first collaboration with his father, Jonathan London. The sequel, Bella, Bella, will follow in 2016.
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