Never Too Far (11 page)

Then, without really thinking again, he scampered around the other end of the bridge where he saw a deep crevice running down the gorge wall. He thought he might be able to get a closer look from there. So he crashed through the debris littering the forest floor. He brushed by several trees and hopped over fallen branches.

When he got to the lip of the crevice, it looked like it would take him all the way down to the pool below. It wasn’t a clear path, though. The crevice was full of sharp rocks, tangled roots, overhanging trees, and clumps of some kind of shrub. He scooted off the edge and immediately fell back on his butt before he went scuttling down the steep crevice. He bounced over crags, kicked rocks loose, and knocked branches and shrubs out of the way. All the while he built up so much momentum that he couldn’t stop himself. He ended up tumbling down to the bottom and landing on a bed of smooth stones at the far end of the pool. He was a bit shaken up by the fall, but other than a sore butt and a few scrapes and bruises, he was all right.

Besides, in front of him, only a short distance away, was the waterfall crashing into the pool.

“Joe!”

He spun around. Halfway up the crevice, Mary sat slumped against a tree root.

“Joe!” she cried.

So much panic was in her voice that Joe panicked too. He thought maybe the wagon had been attacked again. He tore after her, stumbling and clambering over the rocks and twisted roots, until he reached her.

She held to a root with one hand and clutched her waist with the other. Her knees were skinned and her dress torn. She sniffled beneath her floppy hat.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

“You ran off,” she said. “I thought you fell and you might be hurt.”

Joe pushed her hat up and saw her whole face for the very first time. It was like a tiny bird’s head stripped of skin and feathers down to the white bone. Her mouth was stained with dark blotches of dried blood from eating the deer leg. Her purplish lips quivered. Her eyelids drooped heav
ily over her eyes. Then she lifted her lashes and her wet eyes cleaved him like a wound. She threw her arms around his neck and curled her body tight against him.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run off like that and scare you.”

“I was afraid something happened to you.”

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to do.”

His insides clenched as tight as a fist, clenched so tight he thought he was going to be sick.

After they climbed up the crevice, they made their way through the forest and over the bridge to the wagon. Joe had one thing on his mind. They had to get water soon. That was undeniable. Somehow he had to find a way to the waterfall. He drove the wagon onto the bridge, but Lester and Sam’s hooves slipped on the slick logs. They stopped, unsteady and nervous. Joe got out in front and coaxed them forward. Their hooves clopped against the wood. The tire rim scraped along the length of a log, peeling off a black strip that revealed a line of yellow wood beneath.

Chapter 20

Once they made it safely across the bridge, Joe got back in the cab and they continued on slowly. He knew there had to be some way to the waterfall, and sure enough, just over a rise there was a track leading into the forest. The path was narrow and bumpy. It swerved abruptly one way before switching back. The wagon knocked against tree trunks jammed next to the path. A few trees craned low over the trail so that the horses had to duck and squeeze under them.

Then the wagon got stuck on something. The horses tugged and pulled, tearing off bark and branches, until the wagon broke
away. Joe was afraid he’d made a bad decision. Perhaps this path didn’t lead to the waterfall. But he had no choice other than to follow it to the end now. There was no way to turn around in the narrow confines. It was like creeping through a tunnel that you hoped held daylight at the end. The words of his brother Frank echoed in his head: “Don’t go too far off the road. The last thing you need to do is get lost.”

Presently,
they came to a fork. One way led up a steep incline while the other way dropped down a sharp slope. They took the slope down. The horses stepped slowly to keep from skittering over the rocks. The wagon rocked and clunked. Drops of water shook loose from the leaves and hit the cab’s roof. Finally they reached a landing and stopped. For the first time since they entered the trail, Joe heard the sound of the waterfall again. It seemed to be blasting in his ears. Ahead of them through the trees he saw the white water and the milky clouds of mist.

“We made it,” he said. “We made it. We’re here.”

Mary didn’t move.

“Come on.” He tugged her arm, but she still didn’t move. He thought maybe she was still upset from earlier. “Just follow me, then.”

He got out of the cab, and after he fought through the wet underbrush, he came to two trees leaning out over a ledge. He shimmied up one of the trees so he could get a better look at the waterfall and see how far the ledge dropped. As it turned out, the drop wasn’t too much, and he would land only a few steps from where the edge of the pool lapped against the shore.

When he turned, Mary was standing at the base of the tree, holding a water bucket. In his excitement, he’d forgotten that the primary purpose of getting there was to replenish their water, especially for Lester and Sam. Joe hung from the
tree trunk and then dropped to the stones. Up above, the white clouds of mist blotted out the forest and the sky. It made him feel as though they were in an enclosure, a warm, wet, misty enclosure.

Mary straddled the tree trunk
and dropped the bucket. For the next half hour or more, Joe filled the bucket with several inches of water, so it wouldn’t be too heavy, and lifted the bucket up for Mary to take to the horses.

After the horses
drank their fill and they had enough water for themselves, Joe shouted to Mary, “Come on down.”

She scooted along the trunk and then pushed off and fell into his arms. Her dress flew up and got trapped in his arms. When he let go she quickly yanked her dress back over her round naked belly. Joe made like he didn’t notice.

“I’m going in the water,” he said.

He stripped down to his undergarments and dashed into the water until he hit an abrupt drop-off. He kicked his feet against the deep water before he shot back to the surface again. He floated in the pool and stared up at where the waterfall crested the cliff and rained down in sheets.
Whoever knew such places existed? He watched Mary crouch at the pool’s shore, scoop up water, and rub it against her face.

Later, he got the arrows out of the wagon and they both walked to the stream running into the gorge. Joe waded into the swift-moving water and waited until he spotted a fish. They were hard to see because they blended in so well with the rocks below. He kept his eye on one, lifted the arrow above his head
, and drove it into the water as hard as he could. But when he pulled the arrow out to see his catch, it was empty. He stood still and waited for the water to settle again and for the scattered fish to return. After he trained his eyes on another fish, he hurled the arrow once more. Nothing.

“This is impossible,” he said.

He jabbed the arrow at yet another fish, but it too darted away. He flung the arrow onto the stones along the shore where Mary stood. Then he stomped out of the stream and plopped down. Mary moved and Joe glanced at her. She bent over her round belly, gathered up the hem of her dress, and tied it up between her skinny thighs.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She didn’t answer, of course. She simply walked over to the arrow and picked it up.

“Oh, so you think you can do better, huh? Well, go ahead, be my guest. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

She walked out into the middle of the stream while Joe stood up and stepped closer.

“You have to be real still.”

She leaned forward and hunched over. She got close to the surface and held the arrow above her head with two hands. Slowly she inched the tip of the arrow down. She hesitated, waited, and then jammed the arrow into the water. When she yanked it back out, there was a wriggling fish impaled on the end.

Joe was dumbfounded and elated at the same time.

“Bring it here,” he said. “I can’t believe you got one.”

He pulled the fish off. Watery blood seeped from where it had been pierced. The fish squirmed and twisted.

“I’ll get it ready,” Mary said.

“Sure,” Joe said. “I’ll see if I can spear some more.”

He exchanged the fish for the arrow and watched her turn and walk away. Her bare wet legs gleamed. Even though she proved more adept at spearing a fish than him, he didn’t feel hurt by being outdone. He was impressed, instead.

After a few more failed efforts, Joe finally got the hang of it by doing what Mary had done. His efforts resulted in three more fish that he tossed on the shore to flop on the rocks. He found a pliable branch and strung the branch through the fishes’ gills.

When he carried them back to the waterfall, he was surprised not to see Mary anywhere. He noticed a flicker of orange light coming from a corner beside the waterfall. It had to be an alcove. Joe figured Mary had started a fire inside it. Once he got close, he suddenly had a queasy feeling that something was wrong. He crept along the side until he got to the edge of the opening. He almost didn’t want to look, but he did. He peeked around the corner into what appeared to be more of a cave than an alcove. When he saw Mary, safe and alone, he felt a wave of relief. 

She bustled about like she was preparing her home for special guests to arrive for dinner
. Preparing it special for him, he guessed. Over the fire was the cast iron skillet with the fish she caught frying inside. She’d spread a blanket out on the ground with plates set on it and an empty jar with some leafy green twigs and two blue flowers sticking out of it. Further back, she’d set up a bed of blankets for them to sleep on for the night. He was surprised by all she had done, and he couldn’t help feeling a little swelling in his heart.

Joe smiled as he paraded in holding up the fish.

“Look,” he said. “I got more. It’s a feast now.”

She took the branch strung with fish and slid them off into the hot
skillet, where they smoked and sizzled. Then she grabbed a plate off the blanket and she pulled a blackened fish from the skillet and put it on the plate.

“For you,” she said.

She held it out to him. He thought she meant for him to take it, but just as he started to reach for it, she whisked it away. She carried it over to the blanket and set it there before she placed a tin cup of water next to it. She rearranged the flowers in the jar and then stood aside with her hand out-stretched, inviting him. Joe felt his skin flush.

As he ate, he looked around the little cave some more. Despite the wide mouth, the interior narrowed quickly into what looked like a tunnel. Off to the side, he noticed a pile of what looked like sticks. After he went to investigate, getting onto his hands and knees, he discovered that it was a pile of old fish bones.
Some fishing line and hooks also lay nearby. Apparently, they weren’t the first people to use this cave, and no doubt they wouldn’t be the last.

When he returned to the blanket, Mary was sitting down. His plate had another blackened fish on it and hers had two. She had peeled back the skin on one and was tearing white chucks out to eat. He sat down again and looked at her and then looked at the two flowers between them. He turned his head and stared out the cave opening at the mist rising up from the pool where the waterfall hit.

“We can’t stay here,” he said.

Mary stopped eating. She wiped her fingers on her dirty dress.

“I’m sorry. I know you set all this up for us. But it’s not safe. Other people have been here and they might come back. Besides, we should really stay with the wagon and horses. If something happens to them, we’re through.”

She didn’t say anything. She simply stood up and began gathering up the blankets she’d made for a bed.

“We can finish eating, first,” Joe said.

She dropped the blankets. He could tell she was upset.

As they ate, a part of him felt badly for denying her what she wanted. She’d made something special for them to share, a little home for the night, but the pleasure of experiencing that was gone. The harsh world took precedence again.

Chapter 21

The next day, they left the waterfall and continued on their way to the city. Near midday, a man on a huge black horse burst out of the trees onto the road. Joe stopped the wagon and reached for the Calvin rifle on the floor of the cab, only it wasn’t there anymore. He’d stashed it in the forest last night, along with the bow and arrows. He kept the remaining five bullets in his pocket. He didn’t want to lose them. Frank told him not to take any weapons, especially the rifle, into the city. It was illegal. If the guards found weapons on him they’d take them and torture
Joe and Mary on top of it. Now he wished he had the Calvin.