Ari turned to him and zeroed in on Jake with those piercing eyes. “It’s learning how to see inside other people’s bottles to what’s really going on.”
Jake felt like Ari was telling him she’d known everything about him from the moment she walked into the cabin that first night. A question sputtered out of his mouth before he could stop.
“What do you see inside my bottle?”
“Probably more than you want me to.” She folded her arms. “But I might be wrong, so what if we find out right now. What’s your bluff, Jake Palmer? The one in life that you’re hoping no one will ever know about?”
Before Jake could open his mouth to object, Susie, Andrew, Peter, and Camille traipsed onto the deck.
“Nice suit, Jake,” Camille said.
Ari looked down and Jake gritted his teeth. Before he could say anything, Susie stepped in.
“I can’t believe I agree to that stupid game every year.” She laughed. “I know I’m going to swim.”
“It’s going to be so refreshing!” Andrew flexed his muscles in a mock bodybuilder pose. “Good for the soul.”
Ari held Jake’s gaze throughout the exchange, then started down the stairs. She knew he wouldn’t have answered her question even if he hadn’t been saved by the arrival of the others.
“I can’t believe you let me win my first summer here,” Ari called out over her shoulder.
Peter laughed. “If we never invite you back, you know why.”
Two minutes later they were all gathered on the dock, standing in a line a few feet from the water.
“Ready?” Susie grinned.
An overwhelming desire to strip off his pants hit Jake and he clutched his waistband with both hands. But an image of disgust on his ex-wife’s face flashed into his mind and he buried the urge. The instant Susie cried, “Go!” Jake heaved himself across the few feet of dock, then leaped as much as he was able into the air.
The instant before the lake buried him he caught Ari staring at him, compassion in her eyes. Then the darkness closed over him and he sank. The water at the bottom was colder than the surface layer warmed by the sun, and part of Jake wanted to stay down there forever. But more of him wanted to fight to fix his life, and he knew without a shred of doubt that the corridor held the key. Now he’d met the key master, and tomorrow morning, he would do whatever was within his power to get Ryan to open the door to the kingdom.
29
Just as the sun crept above the mountains to the east, Jake strode into the field and glanced around it, looking for Ryan. There, near the orchard. When Jake reached him, Ryan glanced up at the sky. “It is an excellent day for a run. Your soul will be greatly stirred by it.”
“A run?”
“Yes, you need this.”
“Need what? What do you mean, run? Sprint? Jog? Here? I’ve done that already.”
“Our quest this morning is to travel to a river canyon that contains a Class V rapid.”
“Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.” Jake guffawed. “Even if it did, what would flinging myself down an unnavigable rapid have to do with me getting my legs and stomach back permanently?”
“Everything. Will you come?”
Ryan stared at Jake from under his eyebrows, and Jake couldn’t decide if the look in Ryan’s eyes was simple challenge or sprinkled with malevolence as well.
“Can I be injured in here?”
“In where?”
Jake poked his finger at the meadow, the sky, the surrounding hills.
Ryan cocked his head. “Even now your eyes have not yet been opened to the truth.”
“What truth?”
“The truth that this corridor doesn’t take you inside anywhere. The opposite of this is that which is true. The corridor takes you outside.”
“What do you mean?”
“This world contains more reality than the one of your daily existence by a quantum amount.”
“Then we are in a different world here.”
“No. Not at all.” Ryan rubbed his chin. “How shall I explain this? This is the same world, but here you can see beyond the shadows. Behind them. Here you can see the light and the darkness as they truly are. You can see the hidden things of the heart and soul. You can see the creation as it was meant to be. You’ve seen it already. The meadow, the trees, the pond, the waterfall. Here, things are as they were designed in the beginning, before the revolution.”
“Revolution? You mean rebellion. The rebellion of Satan and his angels against God.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes and continued. “You don’t see all, not yet. But in time, your eyes will acclimate. Here, Jacob Palmer, you can taste life as God intended it to be savored, and today, on the river, we will partake in a feast you will long remember.”
Jake didn’t answer, just peered at Ryan and tried to see the man beneath the surface, as he’d learned to do with such precision over the past nine years. But Ryan wasn’t a man. Of that, Jake was ninety-nine percent certain.
He was convinced Ryan was not a physical manifestation of a character Jake had created in his head as a kid. Because if that was the case, then this whole thing—getting through the corridor, the meadow, his legs and body being healed—was all inside his head, which meant Jake was going insane and had no clue it was happening. Certainly that wasn’t the case. Was it? Eighty percent sure.
Which left him to ponder option C, that Ryan was some type of spiritual being, which Jake had never truly believed in. Symbolic? Sure. But he’d never set foot in the camp that believed there was a spiritual realm as real as the physical one. God? Yes. His Son and the Holy Spirit. Without question. But not real-life angels and demons. Yet here he was, bantering with a man who fit the most neatly into category three.
“Are you coming or not?” Ryan glanced at the sky again. “If yes, we must proceed.”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” Ryan strode past him and pushed into the apple orchard behind Jake.
Ryan passed ten or eleven trees, turned right, and disappeared from sight. Jake didn’t hesitate. If he was going on the ride of insanity, there was no point in holding back. He stuck his water shoe in Ryan’s footprint at the base of the tree and turned right.
Instantly his surroundings changed and he found himself sitting in a kayak in a sun-drenched river. Hawks overhead cried as if announcing their arrival, and the smell of wildflowers drifted past them.
“What in the—”
“Fix your rapt attention on the way the current ebbs and flows.” Ryan pointed down the river. “The easiest route through a rapid is to follow the water flow. The majority of the water flows into the deepest part of the riverbed, which forms a V, which you’ll see when you get closer to the rapid. Stay in the V.
“Study the river like it’s a moving map, because that’s exactly what it is. Look for holes, rocks, eddies, logs—”
“I appreciate the lesson, but I’ve been kayaking on a river before.”
“Five times, and never more than a mild Class III. If we’re going to shoot a Class V together, there’s nothing wrong with going over the fundamentals.”
Adrenaline and fear doused Jake. “I thought you were kidding. There’s no way I’m ready to do a Class V rapid.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. You’ve paddled that kayak around this lake enough to make you itch for a river. You’ve read enough thrill-seeker kayaking articles to whet your appetite. Indeed, you’re salivating. Yes?”
Jake stared at Ryan. “How do you know—”
“I must halt your speech, Jacob.” Ryan winked at him. “You don’t want me to think you’re asking a stupid question, do you?”
Jake stared at Ryan, probably with an idiotic expression on his face. “You know Leonard.”
“Of course.”
“How—”
“Come now, Jacob.” Ryan winked again. “If you have taken hold of the notion that this place is a slice of heaven on earth, then certainly you can believe I have t
he capability to see beyond this realm.”
“I’m still in the process of taking hold.”
“Fair enough.”
Jake turned his attention to the river. Not a ripple in it for at least one hundred yards. Beyond that, it turned a corner with no hint of what lay beyond. Ryan backpaddled to stay in place, and Jake matched his stroke.
“Let us move over to the shore, secure our crafts, and scout ahead so you may see what we are about to face.”
“Now?” Jake studied the smooth water flowing downstream like liquid glass. “I don’t see even the hint of a rapid for at least the length of a football field.”
“The river has a way of lulling one into complacency when dangers of severe consequence lie in wait just out of one’s vision. And once in a chute, it can be difficult or impossible to climb out.” Ryan pointed down the river. “One of the main dangers of this river is rolling into rapids that appear benign. You must recognize those sections as having to be scouted.”
They paddled away from the center of the river and pulled their kayaks onto the thin strip of sand on the bank and clambered out. Jake’s legs were still strong, maybe even stronger than they’d been in the meadow. He didn’t care if this was heaven or Colorado or somewhere in between. Feeling the surge of power in his legs and stomach again was paradise.
“Where are we?” Jake squeezed his thighs. “Still in the meadow? Is this real?”
“Have you forgotten already what I told you when you first arrived this morning?” Ryan frowned. “Where we are is on the river.”
“What river? There isn’t a river like this anywhere near the lake.”
“The corridor is a doorway, and in kind there are other doorways, byways into other realms. It was this way in the beginning, and is so in this realm.”
Jake glanced around, the splendor of the heightened colors and sounds filling his senses. “I could get used to the world being like this.”
“Come.” Ryan motioned for Jake to follow and they stepped onto a narrow path that led them along the river. Thirty paces forward the path shot up a thirty-degree incline. Three minutes later they stood on a rock outcropping looking down.
One hundred feet below, thundering white rapids cascaded through narrow slots in the rocks. “That’s where your smooth water goes after it turns the bend. Our options for traversing this section are limited to one: portage up and around. It is not runable by any human.” Ryan grinned at him. “Do not fret, on the other side is a section we can run.”
They jogged back down the trail to their kayaks, hoisted them over their heads, and started the slog back up the trail. When they reached a spot on the trail just beyond where they’d stood ten minutes earlier, thick brush and deadfall crowded the path. Ryan didn’t seem to notice, and they bushwhacked through it at a torrid pace.
Their descent slowed as they navigated fallen trees along the meager path, but within fifteen minutes they’d dropped the 150 or so feet and stood looking at a frothy section of the river. Massive jagged rocks the size of large buses had fallen into the water ages ago from the vertical cliffs above them. Ryan set his kayak down on a relatively smooth section of rock, then reached in and hoisted out a dark green throw bag. He pawed through it and pulled out carabiners, pulleys, and webbing, examined the items, then shoved them back into the bag.
“What is all that for?”
Ryan pointed at three massive boulders downstream. “See those boulders? Ones like that create spaces called sieves, where water flows underground. Getting stuck in one of them is a fair distance from enjoyable, and ’tis an encounter we will focus on avoiding. But if we do get drawn under, it is quite advisable to have made preparations.”
“Then don’t I need a bag of the same things?”
“If I am unfortunate enough to be drawn under the water and detained there, do you have the experience to use the tools I just showed you?”
“No, but—”
“Then there is no sense in my weighing you down with items that would only serve to hinder your journey down the river.” Ryan smiled, but it was grim.
“Then don’t go under,” Jake said.
Ryan’s smile lightened. But only slightly. “Agreed.”
“But if I do?”
“I will be there for you.”
“Can I drown here?”
“Ah, yes, back to your question from so long ago this morning.” Ryan laughed and a look that Jake didn’t like flashed in his eyes. “I don’t mean to make light of your question, but if you are not certain of the danger, I encourage you to slip into the river here and hold your head under till you lose consciousness. I believe that will convince you.”
“So I can drown.”
“Most assuredly, yes. But please do not. I’m quite fond of you, Jacob.”
“I’m still processing the idea that any of this is real.”
“You will be fine.”
“That’s incredibly comforting.” Jake picked up his paddle and adjusted the handles. “But I’m not sure I’m willing to hang my life on your faith.”
“Why is that?”
“This doesn’t happen every day.” He motioned at his legs and stomach. “And I don’t know too many people who walk into a meadow, meet a prince from their imagination, and a few minutes later end up on a river hundreds of miles away.”
“You live in such a limited realm, Jacob Palmer.” Ryan smiled. “It won’t always be so.”
It was hard to concentrate on Ryan’s words, not only because of the low rumble of the water ahead. He couldn’t shake the image of his kayak shooting underneath a boulder where there was no chance of escape, with him inside it.
Jake stared at the logs strewn across the rocks like massive shattered chopsticks. Slivers of green brush and the occasional fallen tree masked the danger they were about to face.
“Jake? Did you hear me?”
He squinted at Ryan. “What?”
“It’s time.” Ryan slid his kayak into the water, then motioned at Jake’s. “Let us sail forth into the adventure before us.”
“I can’t get this picture out of my head that I’m going to wind up underneath one of those boulders, pinned against the rock with the weight of the whole river pressing down on me, the air slowly seeping out of my lungs.”
Ryan paddled upriver to avoid being taken downstream. “You do not have to do this. But if you do, I will be with you.”
“Yes, I do have to do this.” Jake’s heart hammered in his chest.
“Why?”
“You know why. It’s the reason you set this up, the reason you brought me here.”
“Speak the words.”
Jake ground his teeth together. “I have to know if I’m enough, if I have what it takes to do this.”
“Anything else?”
“Let’s go.”
He strode to the edge of the river, strapped on his helmet, and clambered into his craft. Ryan nodded at him, eyes solemn, and pushed off.
“Follow my path and you’ll be fine. And remember, panic is your enemy. Never stop paddling. And get ready for an experience you’ll never forget.”
Jake nodded and tried to slow his jackhammering heart. Not possible.
Within twenty-five yards the river narrowed, and they skirted a fallen tree with less than a foot of space. The river, smooth moments ago, began to churn. By the time thirty more seconds had passed, the water was a pulsating cauldron. After sixty, the thunder of the Class V rapids they were about to hit drowned out any other sound.
Ryan turned to him, shouting, his voice barely audible over the water. “There’s no scouting or walking around this slot.” Ryan’s face turned grim. “It’s unique because we cannot avoid it. There is no opportunity for a portage. We simply must run it.”
“What’s it called?”
A thin smile now. “Leap of Faith.”
“Of course it is.”
“You can’t see what it looks like till you’re in it, and by that time you won’t be able to choose
your line. Trust me when I tell you to start on right and angle left. From the eddy, it looks like we will drop onto jagged rocks, but do not allow doubt to cloud your mind. I promise, you will land on white water as if landing on a feather pillow.”
Ryan continued, his voice strong and steady. “The churn will send you immediately to the left. You’ll get pushed into a wall, then through a rock garden, and you just go with it on faith.”
“You’ve run it?”
“Many times.”
“And I can handle it?”
“I believe you can, yes.”
“No guarantees though?”
“You know this truth. It isn’t necessary for me to speak it to you.”
“What truth?”
“Hear this, Jacob Palmer.” Ryan’s face brightened as if he was giving a message of great import. “Nothing worth having, in this life or the one to come, is free of risk.”
With that, Ryan pushed off. Jake hesitated only for a moment before following. Two strokes, three, then he shot into the slot, and the water in front of him vanished as he was launched, the roar of the river slamming into his ears.
The bottom of his kayak seemed to float for a second, then the bottom dropped out and he hurtled down the narrow slot like a stone. A second and a half felt like an age, but an instant later a wall of water on both sides swallowed Jake and he went under. So much for the feather-soft landing.
Ten, maybe fifteen seconds later—it felt more like sixty—Jake popped to the surface, gasping for air. Then, exactly as Ryan had said, Jake was pushed left, then through the rock garden. Relief flooded Jake. He’d made it. But an instant later, panic shot through him.
Two massive boulders loomed in front of him, fifteen feet ahead. They filled both sides of the river. Smooth, glistening walls shot up fifty feet on each side, and the only path through was a narrow slit in the rock not more than three feet wide. Why hadn’t Ryan briefed him!
Move! Jake’s only chance was to shoot that slot and hope his kayak was narrow enough to get through. He could do it. Had to do it. Dig. Harder. He wasn’t going to make it. Yes! He was. But what Jake hadn’t counted on was a trough in the river four feet deep. Jake jammed his paddle into the water and pulled with all his strength to avoid the hole, but it was too late. His kayak flipped and Jake went under. And this time he didn’t pop back up.
The Long Journey to Jake Palmer Page 20
