Devil's Fork

by Jesse Jacobson

  I chuckled, “Bossman would have your ass if he knew you had this here.”

  He smiled and winked at me.

  I shook my head. As conscious as I was to not do something stupid to cost Toe his job, he was playing loose with the no-alcohol rule for guides. Still, if he got caught and fired over that, it would not be on me. He saw me giving him a questioning look.

  “Hey, the big boss isn’t here,” he replied, “and besides. I’m not drinking it while we’re on the water. I want a little pull at night, you know, to keep the edge off… when I’m off duty. That’s all.”

  “That’s your story? When you’re off duty? We both know when we’re out here, we’re on duty twenty-four, seven.”

  “Well, do what you want, Mr. Fancy-pants,” he said. “I’m taking a swig right now.”

  He reached for the bottle. I pulled it away. If Toe got caught and fired, I’d be right behind him, anyway.

  “Not so fast,” I said. I opened the bottle and took a sip, feeling the burn. “Damn, that’s good.”

  I handed it back to him, realizing I was enabling him. He took a healthy swig, screwed on the top and slipped the bottle back in his pocket.

  Opening night was one of my favorite parts of the excursion. Everyone was all smiles, their bellies full, gathered around the fire, still on an adrenaline rush from the activities of the day. As the days wore on, people would lose much of that energy and fatigue would wear them down, but tonight was party time.

  Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins retired to their tent right after dinner. That didn’t hurt my feelings—Jeannie’s either, I suspect. She seemed more relaxed this evening than at any other time during the trip. The fire cast a soft amber glow across her face that made her eyes sparkle. Damn! This woman was stunning. I had taken another couple of swigs of Toe’s Makers Mark and was feeling a tiny buzz.

  The evening temperature was about sixty-five degrees and the sky was clear. Only a sliver of a crescent moon reflected light. It allowed tens of thousands of stars to poke tiny white holes into the celestial sphere. Cicadas and frogs were harmonizing and the rustle of the river washing against the bank was putting me into a mellow mood.

  John and James had brought ukuleles, and they weren’t half bad playing them. They played classic folk-rock. They were all songs from my parents’ era but I knew them all. Most of the passengers gathered around them and sang along to songs like Daydream, by the Lovin Spoonful, Tears in Heaven, by Eric Clapton, and my favorite, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. They played that song at my mother’s funeral. It brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it.

  I caught Jeannie watching me sing along to Rainbow. I felt like an idiot sitting there with my eyes red and moist, singing away, but she was smiling at me the whole time. Jeannie caught my eye and nodded her head toward the river, inviting me to join her.

  When the song concluded, John and James invited ToeJam to stand and lead the group in a lively rendition of Sloop John B, by the Beach Boys, having heard his clear baritone resonating in a Neil Diamond song, Solitary Man, earlier.

  As Toe belted out the lyrics with everyone singing along, Jeannie and I slipped away from camp for a walk on the riverbank. She left first, and I caught up to her.

  I thought about my promise to Toe but Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were probably snoring by now. I didn’t think there’d be much harm in a little walk.

  The warmth of the fire faded as the river water chilled the air. I zipped up my light jacket. Jeannie was wearing a heavy sweater walking with her arms crossed. She seemed mellow.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she said, smiling. “Actually, better than fine.”

  “Did you have a good time today?”

  She smiled, “Oh yeah. What a rush. Rapids; clear water; waterfall… it’s perfect.”

  “I’m glad.”

  We walked for a minute or two before she broke the silence, “I know my dad spoke to you about Kevin,” she said.

  “Who’s Kevin?” I asked, knowing full well who she meant.

  “My ex.”

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said that you and Kevin broke up. He said you had a rough time with it and…”

  “I came running home with my tail between my legs,” she finished for me.

  “Something like that,” I admitted. “True?”

  “Some of it, yes, but he left a big chunk of information out.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me the whole truth?”

  “I like you, Jolly, and I’m ready to move on,” she said. “I didn’t want you to think I was some emotional basket case or worse, some fatal attraction. That’s not me. Yes, the breakup did a number on me and yes, I ran home to Daddy, but I’ve put it all behind me. I’m ready to move on with my life.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what…”

  “What happened?”

  I nodded.

  “He changed,” she said. “He became a… a different person.”

  She must have seen the wheels turning in my head as I processed her answer because she let out a soft chuckle, “You’re wondering if I’m telling you the truth, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not my business.”

  “It’s a long story, Jolly,” she said. “I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but not tonight, on such a beautiful evening. Let’s enjoy it.”

  I nodded in acknowledgement.

  “I will tell you this; that relationship is over and…”

  “You’re over it now?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s been five months, now. I have dated no one else, yet, but I’ve shown interest in men again… some men.”

  She flashed me a grin and continued, “My mom and dad still think I’m a long way from a full recovery and they’ve tried to keep me close to their vest, under wraps. But I’m eager to get out and face the world again. I want to move on.”

  Jeannie paused and stepped a little closer to the river bank. The moonlight glistened off the river foam of a class two rapid. It was a beautiful sight. I was drawn to this woman, there was no denying it. I was attracted in a way I’ve never been before. Her smile, her beauty, her intelligence, her… vulnerability… it was captivating.

  I moved in behind her and touched her on her shoulders. She turned her head sideways and placed her right hand over mine. She and I took in the river for another minute before she turned toward me and slid her arms around my neck.

  I leaned in and kissed her. Her cheeks were cool; her mouth warm and moist. I slid my hands down to her waist and moved them to the small of her back, pulling her into me.

  There was an electricity to the kiss. I’ve kissed many a woman but had felt nothing like this before. There was passion but also a tenderness. I sensed a vulnerability in her that I’d not experienced before—not like this.

  The breeze kicked up. She backed away.

  “Do you want to come back to my tent?” she asked.

  I’d like nothing more, I thought to myself

  “No. It’s not a good idea,” I forced myself to say.

  “Don’t you like me?” she asked.

  “I do,” I told her. “Perhaps too much. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m on the job.”

  “Professional ethics?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What about after the excursion is over?” she asked.

  I thought for a moment and shrugged, “I’d no longer be your guide, then. Can you wait?”

  She smiled, “I guess I can live with that. Can you?”

  No, I can’t. I wanted her right now.

  “I have to.”

  We walked back to camp. When we approached her tent, Mr. Jenkins was waiting for us.

  “Dad, what are you doing up?” she asked.

  “What’s he doing here?” Jenkins countered.

  “That’s none of your business,” she said.

  “While you live under my roof, it i
s my business.”

  I hate family drama. I could understand the guy’s desire to protect his daughter from further emotional trauma even though he’d turned it up to Defcon Five.

  The other thing that flashed through my mind at that moment was ToeJam. ToeJam went out on a limb to get me this job. If this situation escalated, Jenkins would pitch a hissy fit to my boss for inappropriate behavior. I know Toe—he would defend me. We’d both get fired. I couldn’t handle that. I didn’t care about myself any longer, but I would not allow Toe to lose his job over my stupidity.

  “Mr. Jenkins,” I said. “You’ve got it wrong. I was just walking Jeannie back to her tent. I had no intentions of staying.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jenkins guffawed.

  Jeannie looked at me, wide-eyed, confused, then looked at her father, “It’s true dad.”

  “You are both lying,” he spat.

  “We’re not,” I continued. “Jeannie and I took a stroll along the river bank and I offered to walk her back to her tent. That’s it.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said.

  “Think what you like, Mr. Jenkins, but I’m tired and we have a long day tomorrow.” I turned to Jeannie, who looked confused. “You have a good night’s sleep, Jeannie. Thank you for the walk. I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning.”

  With that, I turned and walked away. I think Mr. Jenkins was shell-shocked because he didn’t say a thing as I walked away. I added wood to the fire. John and James were the only two guests not in their tents. They were holding hands and taking in the fire and the beautiful sky. I wished them a good night and walked away. I crawled into my tent and slipped out of my clothes and into my sleeping bag. I lay there, wide awake, listening to the cicadas and the crackling fire.

  I thought of Jeannie. Her hair; smell; smile. The kiss.

  Jeannie with the light brown hair.

  Twenty minutes later I was fast asleep.

  Chapter 7

  A rustling noise outside my tent startled me awake. I punched the backlight button on my watch and saw it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. At first, I thought the wind caused the noise, then I heard branches crumbling and knew something… or someone was just outside my tent.

  I sat up silently, thinking back to the flash of light I saw on the bank. The sliver of moonlight cast a silhouette on my tent. I pulled my flashlight and my Morakniv Companion Fixed Blade Camping Knife.

  The silhouette grew larger—the figure of a person? An intruder? A woman’s figure.

  Jeannie?

  The figure moved to the front of my tent quietly and I saw the zipper slowly move upward. When the zipper opened two thirds of the way I turned on my flashlight.

  “Rosie,” I exclaimed. “What the hell are you doing here? You scared the bejesus out of me.”

  “Settle down soldier,” she said, entering my tent. “I come in peace.”

  My portable battery heater made the inside of my tent warm enough that I was not under my sleeping blanket. The only thing I was wearing was a set of tidy-whites. The flashlight cast a glow throughout the inside of the tent and Rosie was taking notice of my lack of attire.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought we could keep each other company.”

  Rosie was wearing tight sweat pants and a sheer tank top accenting her ample natural breasts and perky nipples.

  “Rosie, you need to get back to your tent before your husband realizes you’re gone.”

  “Don’t worry,” she replied. “I gave him a little… manual stimulation… about two hours ago. Trust me when I tell you he is out for the night.”

  “That’s a little too much information,” I said. “But the fact remains, you can’t be here.”

  “I’m already here, sugar,” she said, kneeling down in front of me. She glanced at the bulge in my crotch. “You are here, too. Let’s hang out a while—see what happens.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Oh, don’t be a prude,” she said. “She placed her thumbs on the insides of her tank top’s straps and pulled her shirt down part way, exposing her breasts down to the top of her nipples, “You like the twins, I noticed. They’d like to get to know you a little better.”

  “You’re a good-looking woman, Rosie,” I said, “but no.”

  “It’s that little rich bitch, isn’t it?” she scoffed, pulling her tank top back up. “Jeannie, is it?”

  “No, Rosie—you’re married, and it’s against MEC rules for us to fraternize with the passengers.”

  “Don’t be coy with me,” she said. “I saw you and little miss candy britches walking down toward the river bank tonight. I’m pretty certain you fraternized your way into her panties. That’s ok with me, sugar. I’ll share.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that, really.”

  She stood and stared at me, “I’m disappointed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Right,” she said, and then left in a huff.

  I exhaled, thinking I’d dodged a bullet.

  I’m not sure if I fell back to sleep or not. Things were swirling through my head. My internal radar went off again at three-eighteen a.m. Footsteps—twigs breaking as though something or someone was walking through our camp in stealth mode. I knew right away it wasn’t Rosie or Jeannie or another passenger. My next thought was it could be a wild animal, a bear or a cougar, uncommon but not unheard of in these parts.

  Then I thought about the helicopter… the flash of light. Was this an intruder?

  I sat up and reached for my pants, pulling my camping knife from its sheath. I unzipped my tent part way and peeked out. The fire was dying but the soft amber glow still illuminated much of the campsite. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I slipped on my pants, unzipped the tent the rest of the way and stepped out, holding my knife in front of me.

  In the dead of night, deep the woods, are a myriad of noises, and all of feel ominous at times: the crackling of the fire; river flowing; wind rustling through the trees; night creatures chirping… I tried to filter it all out and listen for that noise that was out of place—the intruder.

  I heard nothing odd—saw nothing odd. I stepped forward, circling the camp fire, making as little noise myself as possible, walking by the tents—nothing.

  Passing the tent of Chase Jenkins, I paused, thinking I may have heard something, but it was only the wind kicking up twigs and groundcover. Just as I was thinking my imagination had gotten the best of me, I caught sight of a strange shadow behind Jeannie’s tent. The light of the fading fire cast a distorted shape onto the ground covered in rock and twigs. I couldn’t tell if the shadow was human or animal.

  It was motionless, but I realized, whatever or whoever it was, it knew of my presence. I stared at the shadow observing it.

  Then, I heard it… a noise. From behind me—approaching.

  Dammit, whatever it was, it was close.

  I turned, raising my knife, preparing to strike.

  Holy shit!

  Chapter 8

  “Jolly, it’s me… ToeJam,” my behemoth friend whispered.

  “Jesus, Toe,” I almost stabbed you, whispering back. I put my index finger to my mouth, admonished silence.

  “What are you looking at?” he mouthed.

  “A shadow,” I mouthed in return and pointed. “Over there.”

  “Where?” he whispered.

  I pointed again.

  “There’s nothing there,” he whispered.

  I turned. He was right. The shadow had disappeared.

  “Dammit,” I whispered to Toe. “It’s gone.”

  “Bear? Cougar?”

  “I don’t know. Stay here, guard the camp.”

  I walked behind Jeannie’s tent—nothing. I turned to walk back toward ToeJam when I heard a rustling in the thick brush, perhaps twenty feet away. Whatever or whoever it was, it was now on the move. I darted after it.

  When it became aware that I was in pursuit, it quickened its pace. Damn, it was fast. With
the moon now behind cloud cover and the thick trees blocking the sky, I was in near pitch darkness.

  I heard more rustling to my right. I pursued. Moments later I found myself at the edge of a fifty-foot cliff. What the hell? Had it gone over the cliff? Did it change direction?

  It disappeared.

  ToeJam had rekindled the fire and was sitting near it by the time I got back.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Gone,” I said.

  “Did you catch a glimpse of it? Could you tell if it was human or animal?”

  “No. Whatever it was, it was fast. It was also dark and seemed to know its way around.”

  “So, it was an animal,” he said.

  I shrugged, “Or, it could have been a damn fast human with night goggles.”

  “That’s a stretch,” he said. “It was a cougar. The fire dwindled to nothing; he smelled food; simple.”

  “Could have been,” I admitted, “but…

  “When you hear hoof steps…” Toe began.

  “Look for horses, not zebras,” I finished. “I know, I know. What do we tell the others?”

  “In the morning we’ll tell them you scared off what we think was a cougar, and admonish them to be careful and on the lookout,” he said.

  “I guess.”

  “I have the fire going again,” Toe said. “Go on back to bed and get some rest. I’ll keep watch the rest of the night.”

  “That’s ok,” I told him. “I don’t think I could sleep again.”

  “Well, in that case…” he began.

  Toe reached behind his seat, and pulled a small wooden box off the ground. I looked at the box and smiled.

  “Cribbage?”

  “Penny a point?”

  “Sure.”

  Toe was looking at me as I set up the cribbage board. He smiled.

  “What?” I said.

  “I heard the exchanged between you and Jenkins tonight,” he said. “I’m proud of you—good job.”

  “He’s an ass hat,” I replied.

  “Yeah, but you did the right thing, and it shut him up, but good. Thank you for that.”

  I shrugged, “I told you this would not be a problem. I meant it.”

  “I also saw Rosie slipping into your tent,” he said.