Downriver

by Will Hobbs

  The park ranger’s face registered only disapproval. I met Al’s eyes as I walked up to him. The hurt was still there, but he was happy to see us, even after everything. “Freddy and Adam should go first,” I said. “They should get to a hospital. Freddy got stung last night by that slender scorpion.”

  “Troy and Pug did it,” Rita said. “Put it in Freddy’s sleeping bag. They coulda killed him, and they better pay for it. They’re old enough to be tried as adults, aren’t they? Tell him how it all happened, Jessie.”

  I filled in the details, and Al listened carefully. When I was done, he said, “I hope there’s a way to prove it, I really do. What do you think, Freddy?”

  He shrugged. “Pretty hard to prove it was the same scorpion.”

  “They’re up at Tapeats Creek,” Rita told the pilot.

  “We know,” he said. “The other helicopter is picking them up. Let’s get these two to the hospital.”

  Quickly I asked, “Are we going to see them again? Be with them somewhere?”

  “Not unless you’re going to the hospital in Flagstaff. Hurry up and get their personal stuff, and let’s go.”

  My mind was numb as I packed Freddy’s things into one dry bag. He sat on the shore with his head down. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much that had been unsaid ever since the first. I carried his dry bag up the beach, handed it to the pilot, and then helped Freddy up. Adam was limping toward the helicopter. He turned and looked back at the rest of us, and stopped. For once he had nothing to say.

  Freddy was on shaky legs. “Do you need some help?” I asked him.

  I found his soft dark eyes. “I got it,” he said. “Thanks, Jessie.” He squeezed my hand, and he gave me a little hug. “Bye, Star, bye, Rita.”

  The time for words was over. None of us could speak. We watched them as they hobbled to the helicopter. Adam was getting in, and Freddy was still on his way when I ran to him and said, “Freddy, I didn’t say good-bye.” I kissed him on the cheek, and he smiled.

  “One more thing,” I said. “Don’t look down.”

  Freddy was so bashful. He smiled, and said, “You coulda rowed Upset.”

  We both looked over to the rapid. I could see the safe water beside the big hole from where we were standing. “You coulda rowed it no problem.”

  • • •

  We stood back with Al and watched them take off.

  “Down to three,” Star sighed. “How long can we stay together?”

  “Tonight you’ll be at a juvenile detention center in Kingman. After that there’s no telling. A judge will have to decide that.”

  Al seemed so sad. I felt as sorry for him as for me. I hugged him, and then I said, “I’ve learned more down here than I could ever tell you. Thanks.”

  He shook his head and scratched his gray, three-day beard. “I can see that’s true. But don’t you go telling anybody that the program still works when I’m not along, okay? I wouldn’t want that to get around.”

  We went to work deflating the boats, rolling them up, and repacking our dry bags. It was good to have something to do. Then the other helicopter arrived, and the pilot said he’d taken Pug to Park Service Headquarters on the rim. But they hadn’t been able to get Troy; he’d run off up the Thunder River Trail.

  “Sounds like Troy,” Al said. “They’ll be waiting for him at the rim.”

  We climbed into the helicopter, and as we lifted up we waved to Al standing below with all his gear. The layers of the canyon opened and spread out as we climbed. I was remembering it all, from the moment we sneaked onto the river, but mostly I remembered a night under the stars, when Star had given me her friendship bracelet, and I remembered rock hopping with Freddy up the River of Blue. Somehow, I promised myself, I won’t lose them.

  “Take a look at Lava Falls,” the pilot said. “There it is, that white band across the river.”

  “Holy cow,” Rita protested. “That doesn’t look like anything. I still say we coulda kicked its butt.”

  18 //

  It was March, late in the morning after a heavy spring snow, and the sun was blazing. All around us, the pines were shedding their snow and their branches were lifting, suddenly free of the weight they’d been carrying. The canyon stream was running high and brown with snowmelt. Star and Madeline and I had been out on our cross-country skis, enjoying the sunshine, and now we were headed home. We paused as the house came into sight, “the Hacienda” as we all called it, and took it in. There it was, sitting on a little hill among the pines on the sunny side of the canyon, perched above the stream. Our new home. To me the newness was part of what I loved about it. I would always have that feeling of starting fresh here.

  I looked to Star and Madeline. We were all smiling, reflecting each other in our sunglasses. I had an idea they were feeling the same way about the Hacienda. How unlikely that we’d come together, how well it had been working, how new it still was for all of us.

  We skiied down the canyon and up to the house. “I’m starved,” Madeline said, stepping out of her skis. “How about you?”

  “Let’s fix those sandwiches,” Star said, heading for the kitchen.

  I poured a couple of soft drinks and brought one out for Dad in the sunroom, where he was reading the papers. My bare feet felt so good on the warm Mexican tiles. “It was wonderful out there, Dad. So warm.”

  “The snow’s going to go fast.”

  I sat close to him, in one of the leather chairs. “Here’s the first installment on lunch. Madeline and Star are fixing some sandwiches.”

  “Thanks. I’ve really been enjoying myself just being lazy this morning.”

  “I really do love this place, Dad. Especially all the light. I was thinking when I was out skiing, I had no idea it would turn out like this when it was in the planning stages.”

  He could see I was talking about back then.

  Cautiously he said, “I didn’t know it would turn out this well either.”

  “But you hoped it would. I didn’t think there was anything good about it. I didn’t even want to look at it.”

  “I remember that vaguely. . . .”

  “You remember that well, Dad. I was a hard case.”

  “That was back when you were fifteen. Pre-Grand Canyon. What I really like about sixteen is how we can talk—you know, every so often, like now. It’s great.”

  “I just wish I didn’t have to wait another whole year to get my driver’s license. It’d be so much easier if I could drive.”

  “We don’t mind driving you, really. This year’ll fly by before you know it. You won’t have this probation hanging over your head; you’ll be a free woman. It’s going to come too fast for me, Jessie. I want to hang on to you, both of you.”

  “It was great you got to meet Freddy too, after all the stories we’ve told about him.”

  “I’m glad we took that trip. He’s just as you described him, maybe even better. What a break for Freddy that they sent him to southwestern Colorado to get ‘rehabilitated.’ He sure loves those mountains. You can see it in his eyes when he talks about the country they’ve been in, learning to fight the fires.”

  “I guess it’s really hard work they do,” I said, “but Freddy doesn’t mind that. And if he does really well, he’ll get to try out for the Forest Service Hot Shots. It’s a special team of fire-fighters that travels all around the West fighting the worst forest fires, jumping out of planes and all that.”

  “Well, I hope he makes it.”

  “Oh, he will. And he wants to come up here sometime too, and visit us. We’d like to plan a hike together, off the north rim of the Grand Canyon and down to Thunder River. He’s determined to see that place one way or another. Maybe we could all go. What do you think?”

  “Sounds great—that’s where the underground river comes shooting out of the cliffs, isn’t it? And that’s the trail where Troy disappeared.”

  Star and Madeline brought in the sandwiches on a big tray with melon cubes around the outside and
chips and guacamole in the center. Dad’s eyes lit up. Chips and guacamole are his “natural food.”

  Star heard the sound of a vehicle stopping at the driveway. “The mail,” Star said. “I’ll get it.”

  With a spring in her step, she was out of the house. I’ve never seen anyone get so excited about getting mail, even junk mail. In a minute she was back, waving a letter in her hand. “Jessie! It’s a letter from Adam!”

  “Well, read it!”

  “Okay, okay,” Star said, catching her breath. “Here goes. . . .”

  Dear Star and Jessie,

  What a flash it was to hear from you—and thanks for sending the pictures of your place. I practically karate-chopped a tree into splinters when I read that you two wound up together. I always thought you seemed like sisters anyway.

  No, I haven’t heard from Rita either, except that she’s back in New York. And thanks for all the news about Freddy. I miss you guys, and I wish I could join you for that Thunder River hike, but not this time.

  Yes, I’d wondered too if we’d ever hear what became of Troy. When I heard they didn’t catch him, I could almost see him, down there in Mexico, “living like a king.”

  Well, ladies and gentlemen, wonder no more. Troy has been found. No, he’s not passing the time in his beach hammock, sipping piña colonics and sending his servants out for red snapper. He’s been in L.A. all this time. No imagination, eh? They caught him last week in Malibu, by following the trail of his credit card receipts, wouldn’t you know. His parents are coming back from Europe for the occasion. Al’s convinced them it’s time to put Troy’s feet to the fire.

  How do I know all this stuff? I just heard it last night. Believe it or not, my folks and I have been in touch with Al. Yes, the very same. Now get this: I’m going to be working for Al this summer at Hoods in the Woods, as a kitchen slave and all-around gofer! He runs a much bigger program in the summer than when we were there. Imagine, I’m going to be back in Colorado, and getting paid for mountain climbing and rafting, besides the scullery work. Kind of a junior counselor too, the idea being that if this fool can get something out of the program, anybody can.

  Yes, I said rafting! We are, believe it or not, going to attempt the Mighty Canyons of the San Juan, not once but three times during the summer. Al swears by that river, so I’m looking forward to seeing it. And we’ll be doing Westwater too.

  I hope I’m making both of you sick and that you’ll come to visit me at Discovery Unlimited. (I better start using the real name—I’m one of the staff!)

  Here’s my hidden agenda: One day I’m going to be a big-time river guide on—you guessed it—the Grand.

  Love to you both, and here’s to this crazy dream of mine, that one day the five of us will once more run the Grand Canyon of the Colorado.

  Love, Adam

  P.S. This time, we’ll launch in broad daylight.

  “That was quite a letter,” Madeline said. “You two sure wound up with some great friends.”

  “Friends and family,” Star said, with her green eyes shining. She pulled something out of her jeans pocket and held it up for us to admire. It was another of those friendship bracelets she’d been weaving. I still had the one on my wrist that she’d given me in the Canyon.

  “Whatcha got there, Star?” Dad asked.

  Star sat down, then tied the new bracelet around her ankle. Silver, speckled with blue. “There,” she said, hitching up her jeans a bit to reveal her now-completed collection. “Four of them—each with our soul colors. One for every member of our family.”

  // AUTHOR’S NOTE //

  Running the Grand Canyon on your own private trip with a small group of friends is every river runner’s dream. I’ve been fortunate enough to row my own raft down the Colorado River through the incomparable Canyon ten times. It’s a journey of 225 miles with more than 150 rapids. My wife and I have always made this trip together. Once, at the very top of our game, Jean and I went solo—just the two of us, no other rafts along. All told, we’ve spent six months of our lives at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, in what we like to think of as “the real world.”

  Sometimes I meet readers who tell me that my stories have led them to the places I write about. A river trip through the Grand Canyon is deservedly called “the Great American Adventure.” I hope you’ll experience it for yourself some day, on your own or with an outfitter. Whichever way you go, you must. After a couple of days you’ll find yourself living in the moment, enthralled with the moving water and wonders great and small. See you on the river!

  Will Hobbs

  Durango, Colorado