Lying on his back, zipped up in his sleeping bag to his scruffy, bearded chin, Gabriel awakened slowly to an arresting aroma floating past his nostrils. The smell of syrup and bacon was the very best way to wake up. Enjoying the fact that there was no set time to start the day, he turned over to his side and fluffed his makeshift pillow of two old sweatshirts. While trying to doze back into his blissful state, he heard a familiar voice humming by the fire. His curiosity got the best of him, so he unzipped his tent, propped up on his elbows, and poked his head out to a wonderful surprise.
“Hungry?” The white-haired, dark-skinned elder raised his eyebrows as he lowered the large iron skillet on the coals.
Rio jumped up from his slumber and came over to give Gabriel a good-morning face lick. Gabriel was unphased as he pushed Rio’s snout to the side.
“Ezra! What are you doing here?” Gabriel smiled.
“I’m cookin’,” Ezra said matter-of-factly.
“How’d you get over here?”
Gabriel got out of the tent in his faded, navy-hooded sweatshirt and stumbled as he shoehorned his hiking boots on with his fingers.
“I have my ways.”
Ezra, from the very beginning of Gabriel’s journey back to The River, was a light for Gabriel’s path. Talking to Ezra, for Gabriel, was a window into his dimly lit childhood. A great friend to his grandfather and a mentor to his father, Ezra knew The River well. His wisdom helped Gabriel continually wrestle and untangle the grief and fear that shaped his broken childhood.
“What are you cooking? It smells amazing.” Gabriel leaned over the skillet and fanned the air up to his nose.
“Caramel apple skillet bread with a side of sugar-cured bacon and some coffee.”
Ezra stayed busy laying strips of thick-cut bacon on another iron skillet that rested on the cooking grate. He pulled his hand away quickly each time as they sizzled and popped spitting grease into the air.
Gabriel got a towel and used it to grab the coffeepot from off the grate. He poured a cup of the steaming black brew. He settled back into his canvas chair.
“Last night was amazing, Ezra.”
“Tell me about it.”
“We talked about The Stones of Remembrance. I heard about Ama-Woya. I think that was her name. I want to know more about her . . . and the symbol. Something tells me you’ve got more scenes to that story in you.”
Gabriel pointed to the stones with the painted words.
“And up there, that was incredible. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I could barely sleep thinking about it all.”
“It’s good to remember what’s good to remember.” He smiled gently as he commented through his low, Southern Louisiana gait, “New stories now, Gabriel. New stories.” He stayed focused on flipping the bacon.
“What do you mean?”
“The pen is in your hand. Every conversation, every adventure, every relationship . . . That’s right . . . new stories. And now that you’re at The River, your story is going to come alive in new ways. Every day is a blank page. You can choose to keep writing the past or you can write something new. That’s what The River gives us, new blank pages and the backdrop for the extraordinary to happen.”
Ezra looked up and squinted as the sky brightened by the second.
“I just don’t want to screw it up . . . I’m not much of a writer and there’re lots of pages that have already been written. It’s kind of easy to write what’s already been . . . and then read it over and over and over.” Gabriel stayed with the metaphor as he rotated his hand in a circle.
“It’s worth the risk. I could have made my famous cinnamon rolls and that would have been good, right?” Gabriel nodded. “But you got to step out.” Ezra reached down and scooped out a piece of the caramel apple bread. “Here, try this.”
Gabriel took the spoon. He blew on it to cool it off.
“Oh. My. Gosh. That is heaven.” Gabriel mumbled through his chewing.
“See, a new story.”
“Hey, save me some!” Tabitha’s voice behind them startled Gabriel.
She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His heart raced, surprised by her open display of affection.
“Not a chance.” Gabriel took another lick of the spoon.
As her hair fell on his cheek, Gabriel caught a whiff of cinnamon. At that moment, he wanted to sweep her up, carry her away, and spend the day together. Instead, he lightly squeezed her arms in return.
She stood up, walked over to Ezra, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“How’s my favorite chef in the whole world?”
“Better now,” the old man chimed.
One by one the others woke and joined them by the fire. After eating their fill of breakfast, they packed up the rafts. Jacob and Ezra headed out first. Everyone but Gabriel was in the raft.
“Gabriel, you coming?” Freddie yelled out.
“Be right there.”
Gabriel stood at The Stones of Remembrance one last time. He bowed his head for a few silent moments. He put his ball cap on, his dirty-blond hair pouring out of it. He walked back to the raft slowly with a sense of great peace. Freddie patted Gabriel on the shoulder as he approached the raft.
“Five bucks says I catch more fish than you today.”
“Oh really?” Gabriel chuckled.
Freddie kept going. “I hope you were praying up at the stones just now . . . praying for fish. ’Cause you’re gonna need it.”
Rio was the last to jump in the raft as they pushed off the island and into the gentle current. Samuel piped up as he sat on his lead guide perch on the back tube of the raft. “Freddie, have you even caught a fish here before?”
“Tons! You watch.”
Tabitha turned to Gabriel. “Ezra always catches the most fish. I don’t know how he does it, but he does . . . every time.”
Samuel responded with a smile. “I think he puts some kind of potion on his flies to put a spell on the trout.”
The five rafters entered the center of the current and the boat picked up a gentle speed, floating through the canyon like a magic carpet. Feeling the cool morning air awaken his senses, Gabriel loved the feeling of the water patting the bottom of his feet in the occasional gentle bubbling rapids. He was a million miles from his fear of the water as a child back in Kansas. He felt truly free.
Straight ahead downstream, The River seemed to dead-end as it made a sharp turn to the right. The gradient steepened a bit and the white water churned.
“Nothing too crazy here, guys, but we need to enter over to the left beyond that big rock.” Samuel’s tone was firm as he motioned with his left hand. “Right forward.”
The boat spun left.
“All forward.”
Everyone paddled in unison. The raft picked up speed as they descended with the water. Up and down they splashed.
“Forward hard!”
Samuel could see they needed a little more power to make the turn and reach around the left side of the boulder. The right side poured into a suckhole that didn’t need to be traversed. Everyone dug in. The back right side, where Samuel sat, just clipped the boulder and slung the back of the boat around as they cascaded around the rock. They careened through the next couple of rapids backward and spun back around downstream.
“Come on, guys. That was pathetic,” Samuel barked. His brow furrowed. “If we are going to ride the really big stuff at the end of the day, we have to be sharp on the little stuff.”
Sadie tightened her ponytail and looked off in the distance.
“How are you feeling?” Tabitha seemed concerned.
“Fine.”
“Something’s on your mind.”
“Later.”
“How’s the leg?”
“It still hurts pretty bad.”
Gabriel noticed Ezra first and pointed at him. “No way!”
Standing about ten feet from the shore, Ezra stood in The River knee-deep in his waders. He had his tan-colored fishing hat on with a smile the size of Texas. Cradled in both hands was a fish.
“Woo-hoo!”
Tabitha slapped Gabriel on the arm. “I told you!”
“How’d he get here?”
“Ezra knows all the forgotten trails of the canyon.”
“I guess he does.” Gabriel investigated the canyon with his eyes to see which way was plausible for the old man.
The River forked here. To the left, The River was deep, wide, and smooth. To the right, the waters cascaded gently through some spectacular rock formations. The sun bounced off the shiny rocks and sparkled in the waving waters. There were small babbling rapids and pour-overs that fed pristine swirling eddies, a perfect spot for fly-fishing.
“What did you get?” Samuel asked as they pulled the boat closer.
“A tailwater rainbow!” Ezra held it up. His grin didn’t fade a bit.
The beautiful fish wiggled in his hands. It was silver-green with black spots and bright fuchsia painted down each side.
Jacob was on the bank putting on his waders.
“I’m still tying my fly on and Ezra already has one bagged!”
Ezra lowered the foot-long trout back in the stream gently. They all watched it wriggle free and disappear into the stream.
Ezra shook his hands to get the excess water off of them.
“Look at that little guy. He’s a living work of art. Endless treasures in these waters . . . endless treasures.”
“I’m fishing with Ezra,” Gabriel declared as he jumped out to pull the raft up on the shore.
“You can if you want, but I’m telling you, if a fish has a choice between your fly and Ezra’s, he will pick Ezra’s every time,” Samuel said.
Ezra smiled at Samuel as he pulled a piece of jerky out of his vest pocket and tossed it in his mouth.
They all disembarked. Freddie started passing out the waders.
“I think I’m just going to read today,” Tabitha said. “I’ll leave some of the fish for you boys.”
“I’m fishing,” Sadie said emphatically as she took the smallest pair of waders from Freddie. “It’ll take my mind off of my leg maybe.”
Samuel pulled the rods out of the boat and handed one to Gabriel. “Here, this is yours. Be careful with it. It’s a vintage Fenwick.”
“He’s pretty precious about his fishing stuff,” Sadie quipped.
Samuel paid no attention as he was sliding on his waders.
“I’m going downstream. I’ll catch all of the ones you guys miss.” Freddie headed out.
Rio bounded all over the beach, sniffing every rock.
Tabitha settled in with her book on the beach. Samuel and Sadie each found spots downstream a bit where they could cast. Jacob came over and joined Gabriel and Ezra.
“I’ve never fly-fished, so I’m going to need some help, guys,” Gabriel said.
“You’re a natural at everything. You’ll do great,” Tabitha mentioned, looking over her book.
“Watch Ezra. He is an artist.” Jacob motioned his head toward Ezra as he waded over next to Gabriel.
Ezra paid no attention as he began to cast his line.
“He doesn’t force it. He has a rhythm to his cast. You see he doesn’t break his wrist very much. It’s all one fluid motion. He takes the tip of the rod to ten o’clock and two o’clock every time.”
Jacob showed Gabriel the basics of holding the rod, loading the line, and the trajectory of the fly. Gabriel hung on every word. It brought back memories of his very first catch, a huge catfish in a river at the southern border of Kansas. It was the trip with Mr. Earl, the old man who owned the farm in Cairo, Kansas, where he and his mom rented a room.
“You want to set that fly down on the water just like a real river fly. Those trout are finicky, so how you land them is important. It takes time to learn, so be patient. Once you get it, you’ll love it,” Jacob instructed.
Ezra’s rod bent into a rainbow shape.
“Here we go! Come to Uncle E, fishy. Come to Uncle E!”
Jacob waded to shore quickly to grab the small fishing net and threw it to Gabriel.
“Scoop him up!”
Ezra dragged the fish in closer and guided the rod over toward Gabriel.
“Wow!”
Gabriel reached to get the net under what looked to be a huge multicolored trout. “Look at that whale! Only you, Ezra!”
“Uh-huh. Yep, she’s a few pounds, that one is.” Ezra grunted as he struggled with the fish, trying to get it close enough so Gabriel could capture it.
“Reach and get him! That fly isn’t going to hold!” Jacob waded back into the water to join them.
“Al-most . . .” Ezra strained.
Just then Ezra’s rod snapped straight up in the air and the line whipped in the wind.
“No! Gabriel, you’ve gotta move quicker, man!” Jacob said.
They all just looked at each other, stunned that they lost the giant trout.
“I’m so sorry, Ezra. Dang it!” Gabriel slapped the water.
Ezra shrugged and smiled. “Oh, that’s alright. I’ll catch her again.”
Before they could sulk too long, Rio captured their attention. His aggressive barking echoed through the canyon. They turned to see the wolf-like dog about twenty feet up the mountainside. All that was showing was his hindquarters jutting out from behind a rock. He was scratching and digging in the reddish dirt violently. He sprayed the pebbles and dirt between his back legs.
Tabitha put her book down.
“What did you find, Rio?” Tabitha started to climb up the uneven terrain, placing her palms on the rocks to secure each step.
“Be careful,” Gabriel said protectively.
“She’s a climber. She knows what she’s doing,” Jacob remarked.
While the men were focused on getting their lines in the water, Gabriel turned and noticed Tabitha’s reaction. Her hands went up, cupped over her mouth and nose.
“What is it, Tabitha?”
“Oh my God. Come up here!” She motioned to him frantically. “Oh my God!” She said it again through her hands.
Rio was still barking and digging frantically.
Everyone got out of the water quickly. Jacob and Gabriel made it up the hill first. They approached the girl and the dog. Tabitha turned away.
A dirty white skull, now half covered, lay faceup in the clay, only a few teeth left in the small jaw. Another small six-inch bone and some smaller ones lay uncovered as well.
“Rio, get back.” Gabriel pulled the dog back by the collar as he licked his chops and stomped nervously.
Gabriel’s heart was in his throat. Jacob leaned down to get a closer look.
“That’s a child . . . a very small child.”
A glorious morning of fishing and frivolity turned quickly into a morbid discovery. Rio had uncovered some kind of tragedy. Gabriel felt nauseous as they stared silently.