Into the Canyon

by Michael Neale

  “I love you, Gabriel Clarke. I love you.”

  13

  Anniversary

  After that day under the waterfall with Tabitha, Gabriel felt like his feet didn’t touch the ground for days. To have this kind of love for a woman, and to have her love him back, was more than he ever dreamed. When they weren’t guiding a raft together, they took long walks along The River, went swimming at the cliffs with friends, or they would sit under the stars and Gabriel would read to her from The Journal.

  Gabriel’s first summer becoming a guide in Colorado brought The River to the very center of who he was. His calling became clearer. His confidence as a guide grew with every trip. He felt like he was becoming who he was meant to be.

  On a warm morning in early August, before his day of guiding began, Gabriel sat, legs dangling on the edge of the porch. With Rio’s head resting on his thigh, he read an entry in The Journal. The words sank into his heart as he stroked the head of the old husky.

  Sadness falls like a heavy blanket. Sometimes it smothers me. Why must the hard times come? At times I get overwhelmed. But it is in those times that I feel The River closest. It’s in the pain, the longing, and the grief that I somehow know there IS joy and hope. How? My soul opens up at the deepest levels when the suffering comes. And when my soul opens up . . . and the joy comes . . . and it does come . . . I feel it deeper and more abiding. I see beauty more radiant, and my connections with those closest to me go deeper still. The sadness may last through the night, but my joy will return with the sunrise. Life comes out of death.

  After another rewarding day of guiding on the water, Gabriel headed out of the gear shed toward the path to his cabin to get a shower. Tabitha called out to him from behind the counter.

  “Remember tonight! Don’t forget your stone and your card!” she exclaimed in a hushed voice.

  Gabriel gave her the okay sign as he walked into the woods. He approached the cabin to see Ezra whittling away on his woodcarving. Rio slept quietly on his side next to Gabriel’s rocking chair.

  “How’s your day been, Ezra?”

  “F-a-n-tastic.”

  “Good to hear. I’m beat. I had two great runs on the water today. No swimmers and the water was high. Good times.” Gabriel turned his attention to his dog.

  “Rough day at the office for you too?” He tussled the loose fur on the back of the dog’s neck. Rio opened his eyes slowly and then closed them again.

  “That dog has the life . . . horizontal all day.”

  “That’s not like him. Hmm. I’ll see you over at dinner. I’m going to grab a shower,” Gabriel said as he kicked off his sandals next to his screen door.

  “I’m actually going to stay here and work on this piece for a while. Jacob told me he had dinner covered. You kids have a good time.”

  Gabriel poked his head back out of the screen door. “Can I bring you something from the kitchen?”

  “No, thank you, son. I’ll be just fine.”

  The entire Big Water Adventures Team assembled out on the deck at the lodge for dinner. The smoky smell from the burgers smoldering over a hickory wood fire made Gabriel’s mouth water.

  Freddie manned the large outdoor grill with great enthusiasm.

  “Grab your buns, people! Hold ’em tight! I’ve got burgers comin’ off this grill that are going to change your life tonight!”

  His lisped poem rallied everyone to grab a hamburger roll amidst the laughter.

  Freddie placed a burger on each roll as the guides passed through the line like soldiers in a mess hall. The drinks were stacked in large tin washbasins filled with ice. Bags of potato chips, condiments, and jars of pickles were spread around the picnic tables. Stories from The River filled the starlit evening.

  Jacob came up the steps to the deck and whistled to get everyone’s attention.

  “The bonfire is going at The Reflection Pool, guys. Everything is set up. Don’t forget a chair or blanket if you want something to sit on. Gabriel, you and Tabitha are responsible for getting Ezra there. Sadie, don’t forget your ukulele. Remember, everyone, bring your card and be ready with your ‘thank you stone.’ We will put them all in the box and present it to him, okay? This is going to be awesome. This man has meant so much to all of us. It’s going to be a special night. Let’s meet down there in about fifteen minutes.”

  The group finished up their meals, cleaned up the deck, and headed down to the bonfire. Gabriel and Tabitha made their way to the cabin.

  When they got close, Gabriel called, “Ezra! Ezra! Could you come with us for a minute? We found something down at The Reflection Pool that you need to see.”

  “My goodness. What’s all the fuss?” Ezra asked through his pipe-holding clinched teeth as he focused on his carving.

  Gabriel grinned at Tabitha. “It won’t take long, but you aren’t going to believe what we found!”

  Ezra peered up from his rocker. “What is it?”

  “We can’t explain it; you just have to see it!”

  “All right. Let me get my sweater.” He set his carving down, retrieved his thick cardigan sweater from inside, and followed them on the path by the banks.

  “We thought you might know what this is,” Gabriel said over his shoulder as he led the way with a flashlight.

  Ezra watched his feet to keep from stumbling, Tabitha holding his arm, as they emerged from the trees into the clearing next to the water.

  Before he looked up, Sadie started strumming the ukulele in a mountain rhythm and all twenty-two Big Water Team members stood in a half circle behind the roaring fire clapping in rhythm on the upbeat.

  The sound startled Ezra. He looked up and saw them, smiling faces lit with a flickering orange glow from the flames. Gabriel and Tabitha walked over and joined the team and they all sang.

  “Wade out in the water! Wade out in the w-a-t-e-r!”

  Ezra began to laugh and lifted his hands in the air.

  “What is this?”

  They all kept singing, and the old man walked over and started slapping his thigh and singing with them. Gabriel could feel the joy like electricity.

  As the chorus came to a natural ending, they all applauded and whistled for several seconds.

  “We love you, Ezra!” they shouted.

  He stared with his mouth open.

  “I love you too! What in the world is goin’ on here?”

  Jacob laughed as he walked over and put his arm around the much shorter man.

  “Ezra, several years ago you told me the date that you arrived at The River. You told me how it changed everything for you, and you would never forget that date. I wrote it down and didn’t want to forget it. Well, Ezra, I know this is probably not news to you, but today marks your fiftieth anniversary of coming to The River.” The group erupted again in cheers and applause.

  “You have been cooking for us, guiding us, serving us, and, most of all, loving us, and we want to tell you that we honor you and we are so thankful for you. Our words fall short, and I know my words cannot come close to expressing how much you mean to us.”

  Jacob took a deep breath before he continued.

  “You help us see life through The River’s lens, Ezra. I would not be here without you. This operation would not be what it is without you. So happy fiftieth!”

  The cheers erupted again.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Ezra looked at the ground shaking his head. “I got no words.”

  “Well, you don’t have to say anything right now. Just enjoy the fact that all these people here think the world of you. We’ve got hot cocoa going, and melted chocolate to dip your roasted marshmallows, so enjoy!”

  Many of the guides came over to hug Ezra. They all milled around, roasting their marshmallows and sharing stories by the firelight. As they settled into the chairs and blankets around the fire, Jacob got everyone’s attention again.

  “Ezra, I’m going to need you to take a seat over here.”

  Freddie came walking out of the woods with
Ezra’s rocking chair and placed it at the north end of the fire.

  Jacob continued, “Ezra, I made this box for you.”

  The lead guide held up a beautiful hand-hewn wooden box.

  “Several years ago I was able to get this reclaimed wood from the porch of the original Clarke home in Corley Falls, where you first lived at The River. I’ve saved it for this special day.” He lifted the lid on the box and showed it to Ezra. “Inside there are cards from all of us to you.” He closed the lid back down. “You’ll see on the top, all of our initials are carved around the edges, and in the center, the symbol of Ama-Woya.”

  Ezra’s eyes welled and his scruffy lip quivered as he ran his hands over the carved initials. Tabitha squeezed Gabriel’s hand.

  “History,” Ezra whispered softly.

  “Ezra, we each have a small river stone; they are ‘thank you stones,’ really. On one side, we painted our initials and on the other a word to represent what you mean to us. Each of us will bring the stones and put them in the box, and as we do, we are going to tell you what the word is and why. I’ll begin.” Jacob took a small, smooth stone out of his pocket. “I wrote the word wisdom, Ezra. You have guided me for the better part of two decades. There are so many words really. But I want you to know, I couldn’t imagine where I’d be without your wisdom.”

  One by one, the team filed by Ezra’s rocker to place their stones in the box.

  Kind

  Gentle

  Friend

  Humble

  Forgiving

  Strong

  Ezra looked each one in the eye as they spoke. He embraced their hands as they dropped the stones in the box. Tabitha and Gabriel went last.

  “Ezra, I wanted to write a thousand words. To choose one was just excruciating.” Tabitha chuckled through her tears and wiped her eyes. “I chose generous. You give yourself away in countless ways every day. Your smile, a kind word, a cinnamon roll, a piece of advice, a hug . . . You’re a gift to all of us Ezra, and I love you.” Tabitha leaned down and embraced him for several seconds.

  “Thank you, princess,” he muttered.

  Gabriel stepped up to Ezra and looked at the group. He took a deep breath and glanced up to the stars.

  “Oh, man, I’m not sure I can get through this. Give me a minute.” He paused . . . another deep breath. “Ezra, I came to The River a broken and devastated man. I’ve got so much further to go, but you never judged me. You kept me close and helped me down the road of becoming. I’m forever indebted to you.” Gabriel wiped his eyes on his sleeve as he held up his stone. “I chose the word champion . . . I think my dad would have too. You have been in my corner, helping me, cheering me on, never letting me lose sight of myself or The River along the way. You always have the right words to say. I don’t know how you do that.” Gabriel heard chuckles of agreement. “Thank you for being my champion, Ezra.”

  Gabriel placed the last stone in the box and bent down to hug his mentor.

  “Happy fifty years, Ezra!” Jacob shouted.

  The singing started again as they celebrated into the night, the man who had helped so many.

  The next morning, Gabriel woke at daybreak, still basking in the glow of the celebration the night before. In his sweatpants and undershirt, he stepped out onto the porch to check the temperature, but something was missing. It was Rio. The canine never failed to jump up and greet his master when he heard the screen door. Not today. Gabriel slipped on his boots and went down the steps. He began whistling softly and called out just above a whisper, “Rio. Rio. Here, boy!”

  No answer.

  Gabriel walked to the water’s edge and looked upstream. He called a little louder this time. “Rio! Rio! It’s time for breakfast! Here, boy!”

  No answer. Could he have tangled with a bear? Surely Gabriel would have heard that.

  Gabriel turned downstream and walked a little farther. The magpies and swallows accompanied the soft-flowing waters with their chirping. The sun broke over the mountain, and its rays beamed through the mist of the morning fog. The heavenly morning walk gave way to a sight that made Gabriel’s heart sink. There, just a few yards downstream, was his beloved furry companion of nearly ten years, lying quiet with his ice-blue eyes closed, his head resting on a rock. The water gently lapped the tip of his tail. Gabriel ran to him and collapsed at his side in the wet dirt.

  “Rio! Hey, boy, it’s me.”

  No response.

  Gabriel laid his head down on the dog’s rib cage, trying to detect a heartbeat or sounds of breath, but to no avail. He sat up and held Rio’s lifeless paw.

  “Did you leave me, Rio? You can’t leave me. It’s just starting to get good, boy. I didn’t know you were sick.” Gabriel stroked his fur as he looked around the canyon. “You gotta come back, Rio. Come on. You saved my life!”

  Alone in the quiet of the morning, draped across his beloved Rio, Gabriel wept. The faithful friend who gave him courage and comfort during the darkest times of his life was gone.

  There wasn’t a dry eye in the semicircle of guides as Gabriel poured the last bit of dirt out of the shovel onto the wooden box that held his fiercest protector and most loyal companion. The River cascaded in the background as they stood in silence around the freshly turned dirt that late morning at the Cathedral of the Sun. Gabriel jammed the shovel in the dirt and relived memories with the group as he stared at the grave.

  “He actually saved my life. That’s how I met him. I would have stepped right on that snake, and here comes this wolf charging . . . I thought he was going to attack me and . . . he dove into the dirt and bit the head right off that rattler! Yeah, he picked me. He never left my side after that. He listened to me many a night when I didn’t know what to do. Sometimes the best of friends don’t have all the answers. They are just there . . . with you.”

  The others took bunches of wildflowers they’d picked and one by one rested them on the mound of dirt.

  “I’m so sorry, bud.” Jacob put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

  Sadie’s lilting vocal filled the canyon air.

  If your heart is heavy on the lonesome road, wade out in the water,

  If the burden from your journey’s got you way down low, wade out in the water.

  Oh the sun is shining on the other shore, wade out in the water.

  ’Cause saddened hearts and cryin’ eyes will be no more, wade out in the water.

  Wade out in the water. Wade out in the water.

  Gabriel felt like one of heaven’s angels was singing in nature’s cathedral that day. The grief was real and heavy, but the load was shared in the loving arms of friends.

  14

  The Letters

  October 4, 2012, 6:30 a.m.

  With every labored step, my lungs burned with the morning air. The steam from each exhale clouded my eyes. The changes in elevation really took me off guard. The steep grades and the altitude shortened my normal five miles to about three. Running has always been my release. It’s where I think and process life. Running in the mountains, in the wilderness, was a different experience. I felt like I was in a movie. Toward the end of my run that morning, it did occur to me that these woods were teeming with wildlife far more powerful and fast than I. That helped me pick up the pace. Imagining a grizzly bear in pursuit of me in the morning twilight improved my ability to push through the pain on the last half mile.

  During the run, I couldn’t stop thinking about Gabriel’s story. It was so surreal, these people, these experiences. To see someone who had experienced such tragedy and suffering and still find beauty in life was truly inspiring.

  I sprinted off the two-lane road into the gravel parking area of the lodge. I checked the time on my watch as I struggled to catch my breath. I surveyed the spectacular beauty that surrounded me. Like a tidal wave of insight, it hit me. This was a picture of my life. Running. Running away. I fooled myself into thinking I was conquering life, winning at everything. I was not running to anything. I was running away . . .
away from my kids, from my wife, my choices, my past . . . my pain . . . and I didn’t even know it.

  I started the short walk back to the cabin to get cleaned up. As I rounded the gear shed, Gabriel emerged from the woods. Just like I remembered him from the airport, he had on his knit cap, a worn-thin flannel shirt, and he was carrying a mug of coffee.

  “Morning, Blake.” He didn’t stop walking and greeted me as he stroked his beard.

  “Morning,” I wheezed, still a little out of breath.

  “I’d like to take you to a couple of places today. You in?”

  “Oh yeah, what places?”

  “You’ll see.” He smiled as he walked past me.

  “We’re not going over any waterfalls, are we?”

  “Now that you mention it, that might be fun!” He kept walking.

  “Seriously, what are you thinking?” I said louder as he got farther away.

  He turned and started walking backward as he spoke with a devilish grin.

  “Meet me at the Jeep in twenty minutes. Wear comfortable shoes, hiking boots if you have them.” His deep, gravelly voice sounded like he’d smoked for years.

  He faced back the other way and turned the corner at the gear shed.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  I had all kinds of questions running through my mind. Even though I didn’t really know this guy, I trusted him. He had such a presence about him. Even when we talked in the airport that first time we met, I was hooked. He seemed like a man who was really alive. Not only was he alive, he was living for something and it was bigger than big.

  We rambled along the winding road in his Jeep, my head bobbing with every grind of the gears. The roofless and rusted-out chassis made for a chilly ride.

  “There’s coffee in that thermos back there and plenty of snacks and such in the cooler.”

  “Coffee would be nice.” I helped myself to the large army-green thermos. “So are you going to tell me where we are going?”