We spent one night at Pam’s little house, eating good home cooking, me writing like crazy in my journal and then sleeping for like fourteen hours. In the morning Dad insisted he could drive.
He’d spent a lot of time using Pam’s computer and on his phone, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Very mysterious.
The doctor at the medical clinic in Quesnel, about sixty miles from Bowron Lakes, checked Dad out. Dad’s ribs were bruised and he’d bitten his tongue badly, and he’d gotten water in his lungs. He was lucky he didn’t get pneumonia, but he was suffering from exposure, dehydration, and exhaustion. They wanted to observe him overnight, but he wanted to “hit the road.” They told us to rest and to eat well and to drink lots of fluids.
Especially Dad. I was actually feeling good. Good about myself. Good about everything. While I’d waited at the clinic I brought my journal up to date. And I was getting an idea for the story.
It had to do with a King (my dad). And the Moon Bear (me).
I had a lot of the story sketched out, I just needed an ending.
Now it’s a day and a half later, in the Kootenay region of the Canadian Rockies. We drove down to Kimberly, not far north of eastern Washington and northern Idaho, and when we pull up in front of the Alpine Resort—I get the surprise of my life.
There’s Lisa and Roger and good-ol’ bad-ol’ Cassidy, leaning against a pickup truck! Their arms are folded, their faces are blank, and they look like they’re just, well, hangin’.
Then they burst into great big smiles.
I jump out of our car and yell, “What’s up?”
Cassidy points. I look. It’s a snowy peak in the distance. Dad climbs out of our car and says, “Grizzly Peak, Aaron. It’s the closest one I could find on such short notice.”
“WHAAAAT? But how—?”
Lisa cuts in. “Aren’t you even gonna say hi, Aaron?” She opens her arms wide. “Hey,” I say. We hug. I don’t want to let go.
I can’t believe this! Any of it!
Cassidy says, “Hey, bro! I heard you carried your dad up some waterfall or something. Can you carry him up that?” He points at Grizzly Peak again. “Because if you can’t, I can.” He pounds his chest, and grins.
Roger hugs Dad, then me. “Are we ready to roll, mates? I don’t have all day.”
So this is what Dad was up to. He’d Googled Grizzly Peak—turns out there are Grizzly Peaks all over the western US and Canada, too—then arranged to have everybody meet us here. Everybody but Willie. He couldn’t get away from work. Cassidy had a river guide job set up for the day after next, not four hours away! How crazy is that? Roger and Lisa took a long weekend and drove clear up from Grants Pass, Oregon, driving until late last night, then starting out early this morning.
“You did this for me?” I asked.
“He did it for you,” said Roger, nodding toward my dad. “For what you did for him.”
Now we’ve been climbing Grizzly Peak for the last three hours, taking it slow and easy. One step at a time. The first part’s just a gradual hike up the mountainside, below the snowline. But now we’re at the foot of the final assault on the peak. From here, it’s a hard steep climb up rock and scree, through snow and ice, and the wind’s howling around us like wolves. A few shredded clouds whip by. It’s not that high a mountain, but high enough. Dad’s breathing hard. We’re all sweating in the cold air.
I look around. There are no grizzlies here. It’s just Dad and me, and my good friends, Lisa, Roger, and Cassidy. A wilderness reunion, of sorts.
Beyond Grizzly Peak there are other peaks and ranges of mountains going all the way up into Alaska, and down through the mountain states and into Mexico.
But right now there’s just this one peak. Rock and ice against the deep blue sky, the cold wind swirling around in little snow devils.
It’s getting late. The moon will be full tonight. If we make the peak, we’ll be climbing back down in the moonlight.
After a short rest I say, “Okay. I can do this, Dad, if you can.”
“I know you can,” Dad says. “You lead the way, Aaron. I’ll be right behind you.”
And that’s when I get the idea for the ending:
Atop Grizzly Peak, the bear became me, and the moon floated up into the sky where it belonged.
