Into the Canyon

by Michael Neale

  Ezra continued in a calm and steady tone.

  “In the winter, The River gets quiet. Under the ice, we can’t see the flow. But you must always remember, the current still moves . . . in ways we can’t see. Never fear; just trust that the truth is moving and working its way. You’ll know soon enough.” Ezra started to cough violently.

  “Do you need some water?” Gabriel asked.

  Ezra shook his head and continued.

  “When spring comes, the ice melts, and The River shows off. She takes all the rocks and boulders we river runners view as obstacles, and splashes around and over, and turns them into beauty. Life will give you obstacles; let the current take you around, over, and through, Gabriel. Remember, what we think are detours just might be destiny.”

  Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed, holding the gift and listening intensely.

  Ezra’s words slowed with every sentence as he continued, “You and Tabitha are starting your life at the North Camp soon. Everything will flow from your life together.” Ezra raised his tired hands and clasped them together. “Remember, love is laying your life down for her. Jacob tells me you are going to start building a house for the two of you up there. Remember, you are not just building a physical house; you are building a sacred home. Don’t let anything tear it apart. She will make mistakes. Let it go. You will make mistakes. Own them. And get on with new beginnings. You’re going to do just fine, Gabriel Clarke. You were made for The River.”

  Gabriel rested his hand on Ezra’s forearm and smiled knowingly.

  “You always have the right words. I don’t say it enough, Ezra. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I don’t know where to begin. You are like a window, a view into what should be in this life. I treasure every word . . . I hold them close. I want you to know that.”

  Ezra squeezed Gabriel’s hand. Gabriel heard a noise outside, so he got up and looked through the window.

  “Here comes Jacob. Looks like it’s time for you to go.”

  Gabriel walked over and helped Ezra up out of his chair.

  Ezra grunted. “That used to be a lot easier.”

  “Don’t forget your coat. It’s pretty cold out there.” Gabriel took it off the rocker and draped it over his shoulders.

  “Pass me my hat.”

  Gabriel grabbed the old, black wool porkpie hat with a small gray feather. Ezra put it on his head.

  Jacob opened the door and dusted the snowflakes from his hat and shoulders.

  “You about ready, Ezra? It’s starting to come down out there. We better get going before the roads cover up. This your bag?”

  Ezra nodded as Jacob picked it up. Ezra grabbed his hand-carved cane from the corner.

  Gabriel put his own coat back on. “Jacob, will you call me and let me know you guys got in alright?”

  “Sure. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Jacob took the small suitcase and headed out to the Jeep. Gabriel walked out with Ezra and gave him a hand getting in. Ezra’s cough started up. As Jacob flicked the lights on and started to back out, Gabriel waved his arms to stop him.

  He approached Ezra’s door and opened it. “I forgot something.” Gabriel reached in and wrapped his arms around the old man. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “You better believe it, son. One way or another. In The River . . . always in The River.”

  “I’ll call you,” Jacob said as he pushed the clutch in and jammed the gearshift in reverse.

  Gabriel stood in the quiet snowfall and waved good-bye. Ezra tipped his hat to the young guide and smiled.

  Gabriel made his way back up the steps of the cabin to Ezra’s room to close things up. As he approached the small wooden nightstand to switch off the rustic lamp, he noticed an unsealed envelope. On the outside, in a shaky cursive writing, it read, “September of ’44.” Gabriel pried it open with his thumb and forefinger to find an old picture. He held it under the light. It looked like a young Ezra, standing in The River with a minister and host of people on the banks watching. A baptism. Gabriel stared in amazement at the piece of history, and the words of his faithful friend echoed in his heart: “In The River, always in The River.” He laid it back down on the night table and switched off the light.

  Gabriel picked up his carving and carefully wrapped it up in the box. He walked across the creaking wood floor and back out into the snow. As he made his way back down the path next to The River, he couldn’t help but rehearse his encounter with Ezra that night. He took his time in the biting cold. He thought about how far he’d come, and how far he had to go. He missed Ezra already.

  24

  Thanksgiving and the News

  The Lodge at the North Camp in Corley Falls, Colorado, 1977

  A fire crackled and hissed in the large stone hearth at the lodge, a steady warmth against the cold outside. Gabriel, Tabitha, their families, and the guides were buzzing around the kitchen getting the last of the food and condiments in place. A succulent smoked turkey, cranberry-cornbread stuffing, sweet potatoes, and butter beans joined the biscuits and jams on the long reclaimed barn-wood table.

  “I think we are ready, guys,” Gabriel said loudly, trying to get everyone’s attention. “Billy, would you mind lighting the center candle?” Gabriel handed him the box of matches. A large handmade candle sat in the center of the long, plank spruce table surrounded by river stones. The family of guides took their seats around the table and quieted down as Gabriel read aloud from The Journal.

  We give thanks for the rain. We give thanks for the sun. We give thanks for the mountain. We give thanks for the valley. For in the depths, we are shaped and strengthened. We give thanks for the water, how it flows to the lowest places and for the life that it brings. In everything and in every season, we give thanks. May gratitude mark our journey, opening our hands to give, and our hearts to love. We have been given much, and in our plenty, we too will give. For open hands are never empty, and open hearts never alone.

  Gabriel closed The Journal slowly. Everyone sat for a moment in silence, as was the tradition. Jacob offered a prayer of thanks.

  “Maker, Father of heaven and earth, we humble our hearts to thank You for this moment, for life, and for each other. Our hearts are overwhelmed as we think of those who cannot be with us.” He paused. “We are grateful beyond words for all who are with us today. May Your love and forgiveness be found in the current of each life at this table. Move in us. Move through us. Our hands are Your hands. Our feet are Your feet. We come to You in the name of the Son who died for the forgiveness of mankind. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they all chimed in a broken unison.

  “Let’s dig in, everyone!” Sadie said as she scooped the first bit of stuffing onto her plate. The crescendo of conversation picked back up to a roar as plates were passed and filled.

  All the guides sat around a couple of makeshift tables. At the head table, Gabriel sat at one end with his bride of just over three years to his right. Samuel and Sadie on one side, Freddie and Billy sat opposite them next to Tabitha, and Jacob sat at the other end.

  Jacob inserted himself into the bustling conversation.

  “So, while we’re eating, why don’t each of us take a second to say what we’re thankful for, okay? I’ll start. I’m thankful for my beautiful daughters. You are pure joy.” Jacob looked at Sadie and Tabitha with warmth in his eyes. “I’m so thankful for mercy . . . second chances and new beginnings. I could go on and on.”

  Jacob turned to Sadie who sat to his right.

  “I’m thankful for my family, and I’m thankful that we have more than enough.” She turned her dark brown eyes to Samuel.

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows and wondered if there was something brewing between Sadie and Samuel.

  “Well, I’m thankful for being an honorary member of this family.” Samuel smiled. “I’m thankful for health and a job that I love.” Samuel pushed his sleeves up on his forearms as he buttered a biscuit.

  “I guess I’m thankful for all that stuff too. I’m also
thankful for being accepted. It hasn’t always been that way for me. My grandma used to say I’m a lot to handle.” Freddie raised his eyebrows and nodded as everyone chuckled and assured him sarcastically that couldn’t be the case.

  “I think we’ve all felt that way at one time or another, like we didn’t belong. You belong here, Freddie,” Jacob said as he took another biscuit. “Billy?”

  The dark-haired, bearded brother looked up from his food, his eyes red and his long black hair pushed behind his ears. “I’m thankful for lots of things. I don’t know, for starters, I’m thankful to be alive.” He stared at the candle burning in front of him. “I’m thankful to be here . . . to be with you all. Forgiveness is all around this table. I guess if a family is known for that, that’s a good thing. I’m also thankful for these sweet potatoes! Tabitha, what did you put in them? They can’t be legal.”

  “Why, thank you. Maybe becoming a wife has helped me learn a little of this cooking thing. I guess it’s my turn now,” Tabitha said as she wiped her mouth. “I’m thankful for a life full of adventure and discovery. I’m thankful for a strong and courageous man who lets me be me.” She put her hand on Gabriel’s thigh. “I’m so thankful for life in The River. There was a time when I wondered if this was the life for me . . . if I was really meant to be here. I kept thinking I was missing something. I don’t think that for a second now. My heart is full.”

  Gabriel noticed all eyes on him.

  “My turn, huh? I’m thankful to be home. I’m thankful for the years in Kansas, but it’s good to be home.” He chuckled to himself as he continued. “My life looked quite a bit different just a few years ago. I was alone, working in the supply room of a five-and-dime. Now I’m in Colorado, spending my life at The River, married to the girl who is beyond even what my heart could dream, with people I love.” Gabriel felt his eyes well with tears as he spoke. “I don’t deserve any of this. I also want to say that . . .” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, guys. You know how easily the tears come with me. I’m thankful for those years with Ezra.” He noticed tears springing in several other eyes. “I miss his cinnamon rolls. I miss the smell of that pipe. Jacob, you need to start smoking or something.” Gabriel laughed and wipes his eyes. “I miss our talks. Once again, The River sent me a lifesaver.” Gabriel reached for his glass of tea and raised it in the air. “Here’s to the memory of Ezra Buchanan.”

  They clinked their glasses together.

  Sadie spoke up. “Okay, name your favorite Ezra saying.”

  “ ‘Sweet cinnamon!’ ” Freddie said with a grin.

  “How about, ‘It’s good to remember what’s good to remember,’ ” Gabriel said.

  Sadie jumped in. “I know. I know. ‘It’s all in how ya look at it.’ ” She tried to make her voice deep with his slow Southern drawl.

  Jacob spoke up. “One of my favorites is, ‘I ain’t who I once was, I ain’t who I’m supposed to be yet, but I’m on my way and livin’, and that’s good.’ ”

  Gabriel smiled as memories came rushing back. “He had an amazing way with words, but the thing that made Ezra great was not what he said, but what he did. He served in obscurity, never complained, was always so grateful, and he was always ready to lift someone up. His joy was . . . it was just complete and contagious. I wish everyone had the gift of rooming next door to him. I’m so glad it was me.”

  “You might be onto something,” Jacob said.

  “Onto what?”

  “That everyone should have the gift of spending time with Ezra. Maybe we should write down a book of memories, you know, things he said and did. That is one way we could keep Ezra’s legacy alive.”

  Tabitha piped up excitedly. “We could have an Ezra guide school, or even a mentor program, to help people through life. Look around the room, guys. We’ve all gone through some dark valleys. When we lost Mom . . . Ezra was there. He didn’t always have the answers, but he always shared our tears. We could help people with what we are learning.”

  “The Ezra Buchanan Guide Center,” Jacob said as he motioned with his hand. “Has a ring to it!”

  Everyone nodded and commented in agreement.

  “Okay, I think now is as good a time as any,” Jacob declared to everyone. “Gabriel and Tabitha, I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”

  They looked at each other and shrugged as they cleared the table after the feast.

  Tabitha looked at Sadie. “Any clue?”

  Sadie motioned to zip her mouth.

  “Samuel? Do you know anything?”

  He did the same.

  “Freddie! Oh, Freddie!”

  “Don’t come over here; you know I can’t keep secrets.”

  “I’ve got pie, Freddie,” Tabitha singsonged as she held an apple pie.

  Freddie stuck his fingers in his ears. “La-la-la-la!”

  Right then Jacob walked in the door.

  Tabitha’s jaw dropped.

  Gabriel jumped out of his chair and walked over in disbelief. There, draped across Jacob’s arms, lay a beautiful Siberian husky puppy. It had the most brilliant white and silver fur and ice-blue eyes.

  Gabriel went over and tussled the fur of the adolescent pup as it licked his hands. “Hey, boy! Hey there! He’s amazing. Is he ours?”

  Jacob nodded. “All yours. It’s been too long since Rio was running around here. I figured it was time you two had a kid anyway.”

  “Dad!” Tabitha slapped her father’s shoulder.

  Jacob pretended to wince. “What? I’m just saying!”

  “Those eyes are breathtaking,” Tabitha swooned as she stroked the pup’s back.

  “What should we call him?” Gabriel asked.

  Tabitha pursed her lips. “Hmm . . . how about . . . Buchanan?”

  Gabriel took the pup from Jacob and buried his face in the soft fur. “Buchanan. I like that. I like that a lot. We can call him ‘B’ for short.”

  They all sat around the fireplace taking turns doting over the canine and enjoying percolator coffee. Tabitha got slices of pie and served them up.

  “Here you go, everyone, hot apple pie and ice cream. Gabriel, I think this is your best one yet.” Gabriel spoke to himself.

  “A man who bakes pies? It just doesn’t get any better! Thank you!” Tabitha swooned as she took her piece.

  “Well, you can thank Ezra. I watched him one day and wrote down his recipe the best I could.”

  After everyone had scraped their plates, Tabitha cleared her throat.

  “So, Dad, you had a gift for us, and actually, Gabriel and I wanted to give you a little something.” Tabitha handed him a small box wrapped in newspaper.

  Jacob looked surprised. “What’s that?” He shook it and put it up to his ear.

  “Just open it, Dad,” Tabitha said impatiently.

  He sniffed it and then held it toward the dog. “Can you tell what that is, Buchanan?”

  “Daddy!”

  “Okay, okay,” Jacob said, laughing.

  He tore the old paper off and opened the small cardboard box. He pulled out an infant-sized life vest. He furrowed his brow as he studied it. “I’m confused.”

  Gabriel wrapped his arm around Tabitha, enjoying the surprise. “You’re going to need it.”

  “For what?” Jacob said in exasperation.

  Tabitha casually said, “Oh, when you babysit your first grandchild.”

  The news didn’t register at first. Then Jacob’s eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. He jumped up and down and started dancing what looked like a Celtic celebration of some sort. The others started clapping and laughing hysterically.

  Jacob kept chanting as he danced. “I’m going to be a grandpa! I’m going to be a grandpa! I’m going to have a grandson!”

  Tabitha laughed. “We don’t know if it’s a boy yet, Dad.”

  “Well, just a guess!” He threw his arms in the air. “Ha-ha! I’m going to be a grandpa!”

  He ran over and picked his daughter up and hugged her tight.

  “
This is amazing. So amazing. I’m so happy.” He let her down and went to Gabriel. “Congratulations, son.” Jacob pulled him in and gave him a bear hug, lifting the young man’s feet off the ground.

  Jacob said it well: “Best Thanksgiving ever. Best Thanksgiving ever.”

  25

  The Marble and the King of Hearts

  December 1977, Sunday, 6:50 a.m.

  “I love you. I’ll be back this afternoon,” Gabriel said, feeling content. Standing at her side of the bed, he leaned over and kissed her tired forehead.

  She rolled over and moaned. “It’s a holiday. Where are you going at this hour?” She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock that showed six fifty a.m.

  “I just need some time.”

  “Everything okay?” She squinted as she looked into his eyes to see if there was anything behind his departure.

  “Yes, of course. I’m going to the Cathedral. I’ll be back before dinner.”

  She pulled his head down to hers and kissed his scruffy cheek.

  Gabriel went to the back door and grabbed his black peacoat, twirled his gray wool scarf around his neck, and pulled his army-green knit cap down over his hair. Before getting in his Jeep, he made his way down to the water’s edge to breathe the damp, cold air. The gentle flow bubbled through the quiet canyon with a relentless peace. He took one glove off, stooped down, and dipped his hand in the frigid water. The early-morning mist hovered over the water as the glow of the dawn just started spilling into the gorge. His favorite part of the day was the awakening of morning. It meant new possibilities, a fresh start. Gabriel got in the Jeep and headed south.

  After parking the Jeep off the road, he hiked for thirty minutes or so, carrying an old leather messenger bag and a small digging spade. He took the right fork on the trail and came through the last patch of trees to his familiar haunt, the Cathedral of the Sun. His pulse livened as he saw the large monolith and heard the roar of The River in the distance below. A little winded, he looked to the tops of the trees and felt the sun now peeking over the ridge. He heard the polyrhythmic melodies of a few songbirds in the trees and the occasional squirrel or chipmunk that darted about at the sound of his boots. He made his way to the base of the Cathedral to see his father’s gravestone. Just a few yards to his right, his eyes lay hold of another important etched gravestone.