23

Ezra’s Journey and the Gift

February 9, 1975, 7:25 p.m.

Gabriel blew into his cupped hands to warm them as he crunched along the icy path at twilight. The clear sky and the brilliant moon caused the water to glow in a soft white. Gabriel took long walks along the water during the winter. The River was quieter during these months as portions of it would ice over, and the blue and gray tones of the canyon carried an eerie stillness. To Gabriel, the waters seemed even more mysterious in the winter. An occasional distant hoot of an owl or haunting bay of a wolf would break into the silence. He and Tabitha had been married for a few months now, living in a small cabin on the north side of the lodge. They would soon depart for the North Camp to begin preparations for running that location in the coming rafting season. Wearing his favorite gray scarf knitted by Ms. Vonda and a weathered black peacoat, the once-timid Kansas farm boy, now rugged river man, headed downstream toward his old cabin room that neighbored Ezra’s.

Gabriel ascended the steps to the porch and heard the old man struggling through a violent cough.

“Ezra?” Gabriel opened the screen and leaned in close to the door. “Ezra, are you okay?”

The cough continued.

Gabriel let himself in and quickly grabbed a hand towel by the sink and handed it to the feeble older man as he helped lower him in his wooden rocker. Gabriel went over to the sink, drew a cup of water from the faucet, and handed it to Ezra. The older man seemed significantly weaker since Gabriel had seen him a few days before.

“Jacob will be ready in about thirty minutes or so. Do you need any help with your things?” Gabriel said in a concerned tone.

Ezra’s hand shook as he pointed to a small tweed suitcase on the bed.

“I can’t get that blasted thing zipped. I don’t know why we are doing this. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, we’re all a little worried about you, Ezra, so you are going to get this checked out. We’ll get you some medicine and get you back here to work.”

Ezra didn’t respond. He motioned to a box in the back corner of the room.

“Can you bring that over to me, son?”

Gabriel picked up the square wooden box about the size of a shoebox and handed it to Ezra. It was covered in burlap and tied together with a thin leather strap.

Ezra held it on his lap.

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you. It took me longer than I thought. I wanted to have it ready to give you at the wedding but better late than never. I hope you like it.” Ezra pushed it out on the edge of his knees.

Gabriel looked stunned.

“Wow, thank you. What is it?”

“Open it.”

Gabriel untied the strap and unfolded the burlap material. It revealed a beautifully stained wood box with hinges on the back and a clasp in front. On the top of the box was the symbol, charred into the face of the wood.

“The symbol of Ama-Woya,” Gabriel said as he admired the beauty and craftsmanship.

Ezra nodded once. “Open it up.”

Gabriel raised the lid of the box, revealing another item wrapped in the same burlap cloth. He looked at Ezra as he picked it up.

“Now read the message.” Gabriel noticed the handwritten message on the inside of the box lid. He read aloud.

To my dearest Gabriel and Tabitha,

Please accept the work of my hands as a symbol of how much you mean to me. Remember you are loved and you are never alone. Hold on to each other. Embrace your freedom. Above all, give yourselves away. It’s only in giving yourself away that you find your path. May each sunrise be a new beginning. Burn the records of each other’s faults. Forgive often. Love well. You both will always be in my heart.

Your friend in The River,
Ezra Buchanan

Gabriel felt a lump growing in his throat.

Ezra nudged him. “Go on, unravel it.”

Gabriel removed the shroud, unveiling an extraordinary wood carving of a beautiful Native American woman. Gabriel stared, speechless.

“It’s what I thought she must have looked like.”

Gabriel paused, lost in admiration. “Ezra, I don’t know what to say. This is a masterpiece. The detail, the expression on her face, it’s just breathtaking! I had no idea you could do this.” Gabriel ran his fingers over the grooves of her hair, and the solitary tear coming out of her deep and mournful eyes. He noticed the broad nose and smooth glow of her cheeks that had been polished into the wood.

“I’m glad you like it,” Ezra said through a peaceful smile. “Ama-Woya is a symbol of freedom. She represents shedding the heavy chains that weigh us all down . . . Yep . . . she ran to her destiny, no matter the cost. Scars came along the way, but they just served to remind her what she’d come from, and how much she had to live for.”

Gabriel ran his fingers down the face of the wooden sculpture.

“It looks just like her . . . I can’t even believe it.” Gabriel shook his head as he studied the work of art.

“Looks just like who?”

Gabriel spoke softly as the memories flooded him. “Back in Kansas in grade school, during one of the darkest times I can remember, a very special woman . . . a teacher . . . came into my life. She was beautiful inside and out. Her love and encouragement got me through. She stood up for me. In fact, she’d lost her father too. Somehow she reached down into my world and pulled me up. This carving is Ama-Woya”—Gabriel pointed at her face emphatically—“but it’s also Lily Collingsworth.”

“Ah. The teacher who painted The River for you, yes?”

“Yes, her Cherokee name was Aykwa-Aykwanee. It means Great River.”

“Hmm.” Ezra pursed his mouth and squinted in concentration. “Guess The River never left you, even in Kansas. Look at you now, son.” Ezra rocked his chair slowly as he blinked hard and looked out the window. A light snow began to fall.

Ezra continued in a calm and steady tone.

“In the winter, The River gets quiet. Under the ice, we can’t see the flow. But you must always remember, the current still moves . . . in ways we can’t see. Never fear; just trust that the truth is moving and working its way. You’ll know soon enough.” Ezra started to cough violently.

“Do you need some water?” Gabriel asked.

Ezra shook his head and continued.

“When spring comes, the ice melts, and The River shows off. She takes all the rocks and boulders we river runners view as obstacles, and splashes around and over, and turns them into beauty. Life will give you obstacles; let the current take you around, over, and through, Gabriel. Remember, what we think are detours just might be destiny.”

Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed, holding the gift and listening intensely.

Ezra’s words slowed with every sentence as he continued, “You and Tabitha are starting your life at the North Camp soon. Everything will flow from your life together.” Ezra raised his tired hands and clasped them together. “Remember, love is laying your life down for her. Jacob tells me you are going to start building a house for the two of you up there. Remember, you are not just building a physical house; you are building a sacred home. Don’t let anything tear it apart. She will make mistakes. Let it go. You will make mistakes. Own them. And get on with new beginnings. You’re going to do just fine, Gabriel Clarke. You were made for The River.”

Gabriel rested his hand on Ezra’s forearm and smiled knowingly.

“You always have the right words. I don’t say it enough, Ezra. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I don’t know where to begin. You are like a window, a view into what should be in this life. I treasure every word . . . I hold them close. I want you to know that.”

Ezra squeezed Gabriel’s hand. Gabriel heard a noise outside, so he got up and looked through the window.

“Here comes Jacob. Looks like it’s time for you to go.”

Gabriel walked over and helped Ezra up out of his chair.

Ezra grunted. “That used to be a lot easier.”

“Don’t forget your coat. It’s pretty cold out there.” Gabriel took it off the rocker and draped it over his shoulders.

“Pass me my hat.”

Gabriel grabbed the old, black wool porkpie hat with a small gray feather. Ezra put it on his head.

Jacob opened the door and dusted the snowflakes from his hat and shoulders.

“You about ready, Ezra? It’s starting to come down out there. We better get going before the roads cover up. This your bag?”

Ezra nodded as Jacob picked it up. Ezra grabbed his hand-carved cane from the corner.

Gabriel put his own coat back on. “Jacob, will you call me and let me know you guys got in alright?”

“Sure. I’ll keep you posted.”

Jacob took the small suitcase and headed out to the Jeep. Gabriel walked out with Ezra and gave him a hand getting in. Ezra’s cough started up. As Jacob flicked the lights on and started to back out, Gabriel waved his arms to stop him.

He approached Ezra’s door and opened it. “I forgot something.” Gabriel reached in and wrapped his arms around the old man. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You better believe it, son. One way or another. In The River . . . always in The River.”

“I’ll call you,” Jacob said as he pushed the clutch in and jammed the gearshift in reverse.

Gabriel stood in the quiet snowfall and waved good-bye. Ezra tipped his hat to the young guide and smiled.

Gabriel made his way back up the steps of the cabin to Ezra’s room to close things up. As he approached the small wooden nightstand to switch off the rustic lamp, he noticed an unsealed envelope. On the outside, in a shaky cursive writing, it read, “September of ’44.” Gabriel pried it open with his thumb and forefinger to find an old picture. He held it under the light. It looked like a young Ezra, standing in The River with a minister and host of people on the banks watching. A baptism. Gabriel stared in amazement at the piece of history, and the words of his faithful friend echoed in his heart: “In The River, always in The River.” He laid it back down on the night table and switched off the light.

Gabriel picked up his carving and carefully wrapped it up in the box. He walked across the creaking wood floor and back out into the snow. As he made his way back down the path next to The River, he couldn’t help but rehearse his encounter with Ezra that night. He took his time in the biting cold. He thought about how far he’d come, and how far he had to go. He missed Ezra already.