The River

by Michael Neale

  Bundled with a thick wool coat, knit gloves, and toboggan hat, Gabriel could see the steam from his breath as he raked the pen. Miss Vonda was in the kitchen, cleaning up after one of her Saturday morning pancake feasts. Mister Earl was in the old barn, straightening his tools and scraping mud and ice off of the tractor. His mother was working at the diner, something she did every other Saturday. She didn’t mind since Saturday mornings were usually a good time for tips. His mom said that everyone seemed happier on the weekends, so they were a little more generous.

  “You know what tomorrow is, don’t you?” Gabriel liked talking to the animals while he did his chores; they kept him company. He continued talking while the hens clucked around the coop.

  Although the chickens may not have been too excited, Gabriel was thrilled to tell them about what would happen the next day: on Sunday, February 24, he would turn twelve years old. He figured that being one year away from becoming an official teenager would mean at least one special present because his mom always made him feel that his birthday was the Most Important Day of the Year.

  Maybe Miss Vonda will make me my favorite dinner. . . fried chicken!

  The chickens clucked, as if they understood they could end up in the fryer. Gabriel finished his cleaning, shut the coop door, and made his way over to the barn to put the bucket and rake away. Then he heard the sound of Mister Earl knocking the ice off the back of the tractor.

  “I’m done with the coop,” Gabriel announced.

  No reply.

  “You know what tomorrow is, right, Mister Earl?”

  Mister Earl peeked around the large back tire of the tractor.

  “Yep. . . it’s Sunday.”

  Gabriel let out a sigh.

  “Do you know what else it is?”

  “Yep. . . the twenty-fourth of February.”

  Gabriel hung the rake up on the wall with other tools and walked around the back of the tractor. “It’s more than that! Don’t you remember?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s the day we’re supposed to finish repainting the front porch rocking chairs.”

  “Aw, come on, Mister Earl. It’s my birthday!”

  Mister Earl was chuckling now.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right.” A sheepish grin came across his grizzled face. “You’re going to be ten, right?”

  “Twelve!” Gabriel said emphatically.

  “Well. You have only sixty-two more years to catch me.”

  “What did you do on your twelfth birthday?”

  “Oh gosh, I don’t think I can remember that far back. I was probably working. I can’t recall a time when I didn’t work. Maybe my folks let me go fishing. That’s all I really cared about back then.” Mister Earl kept chipping away at the ice.

  “Can we go fishing again sometime? I really liked that a lot.”

  “We’ll go fishing again when spring comes.” Mister Earl continued concentrating on the tractor. “You should grab an armload of wood for the house. The fire probably needs to be stoked.”

  Another chore. Gabriel walked over to the far side of the barn where he lifted the tarp off of a large stack of split wood. He filled his arms with as much wood as he could carry and started trekking toward the house, grateful he could thaw out a bit inside. He dropped the wood in a stack by the cast iron potbelly stove in the living room, then took off his coat and hat and hung them on the coat-rack. He opened the hinged door and dropped another two more logs on the fire. Then he stepped back outside and retreated to their tiny apartment attached to the back of the house.

  The sound of a vehicle coming, crunching up the long frozen drive, broke the stillness of the morning.

  Who would be coming to the farm at ten a.m. on a Saturday? Mom doesn’t usually get home until after lunch.

  Gabriel ran over to the window and pulled the curtain back. A faded black Ford step-side pickup was coming up the long driveway. He couldn’t quite see who was behind the wheel, but when the truck parked to the side of the house, the driver door opened and his teacher, Miss Collingsworth, stepped out.

  Gabriel’s heart thumped as the schoolteacher gracefully shut her door and walked around to the passenger side of her truck with her hands jammed inside her coat pockets against the cold. She was wearing a three-quarter length, thick brown suede jacket with a red knit cap pulled down over her ears. Her long black braids flowed over her shoulders, and her brown cheeks were as smooth as ever.

  Am I in trouble? he wondered. Why is she here?

  He quickly did an inventory in his head of the past week of school. He had handed in all his homework. He was ready for her famous pop quizzes.

  She opened the passenger side door and pulled out a flat package wrapped in brown paper. Gabriel quickly closed the curtains and reached for a book that was required reading during the semester. That would impress her.

  Miss Collingsworth came up to the front door of the main house and rang the tiny dinner bell that hung on the porch. Miss Vonda dried her hands at the sink and went over to open the door.

  “Hi there, I’m Lily Collingsworth, Gabriel’s teacher. I’m at the right address, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, dear. Their room is around back, but come on in. I can let Gabriel know you’re here,” Miss Vonda said with a coy grin. “Would you let me fix you some tea before I go get him?”

  “That would be wonderful. It’s so cold out. May I set this down over here?”

  “Of course, wherever you like.” Miss Vonda left to boil water on the stove.

  Miss Collingsworth followed her into the kitchen, where they conversed nonstop for the next half hour over their cup of tea.

  Through the thin walls, Gabriel overheard them discussing their favorite foods, the hairdressers in Cairo— there were only two of them—and, of course, the fact that tomorrow was his birthday. So far, there was no sign of his being in trouble at school.

  “Well, I brought Gabriel something for his birthday,” Miss Collingsworth said. “He’s one of those students who really captured my heart from the beginning. I love all my students and I love teaching, but there’s just something about that boy. I suppose I see a little of myself in him. Anyway, I have something for him.”

  Gabriel couldn’t believe his ears. The affirmation and care in her voice were so comforting. He had never had someone go out of their way like this to show him love. Gabriel left his bedroom, came around to the front of the house, and poked his head into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Gabriel!” Miss Collingsworth stood up and opened her arms.

  “Hi,” he said sheepishly as he accepted her hug.

  “I have something for you.” She walked next to the front door and picked up a package and handed it to him. “I know I’m a day early, but. . . happy birthday!”

  Gabriel took the present into his hands and held it with a huge smile.

  “Well, go ahead and open it. I think you’ll like what’s inside,” she remarked with anticipation.

  Gabriel sat down on the sofa and placed the package on his lap. It was two or three feet wide and lay flat across his legs. He untied the red bow and tore into the golden paper.

  “Look at this!” Gabriel held up a stunning oil landscape painting.

  “That’s where I grew up,” Miss Collingsworth explained. “That’s The River I told you about when we first met. I loved all of the questions you asked me about The River and my experiences there, so I thought you might like my painting.”

  “You painted it?” Gabriel asked.

  “Yes, just for you.”

  Gabriel, speechless, stared at the beautiful landscape.

  Miss Vonda was impressed as well. “My goodness, that’s gorgeous. I’ve never met anyone who could paint like that,” she said with both hands on her cheeks.

  To Gabriel’s eyes, the landscape of The River carving its way through a dramatic gorge had vibrant colors and deep dimension. Gabriel’s eyes followed the textures of the brush, which left him with a feeling that he was there, overlooking The River. The details were out
standing: whitewater rushing over smooth rocks and boulders, tall firs that stretched to the heavens, deer wandering close to the water’s edge, and a lonely white bird of prey with a red tail swooping through the air.

  Gabriel just ran his hands gently over the dark oak frame and stared at every detail. Hidden in plain sight was a signature in black ink painted in the bottom right-hand corner: Aykwa-Aykwanee.

  Miss Collingsworth glanced over at him. “Do you like it?”

  Gabriel didn’t dare take his eyes away from the painting. “Yes, ma’am. It’s perfect. It’s just perfect. Do I get to keep it?”

  She laughed. “Of course! Happy birthday, Gabriel Clarke.”

  A few minutes later his teacher reached over and gave Gabriel another hug and stood to put her coat back on. “I better get going. I have to run some errands and get my house cleaned.”

  Miss Vonda helped her with her coat and walked her out. Gabriel said good-bye, then ran back to the painting to have another look. He was overwhelmed that she would go to this kind of trouble. To spend so many hours painting such a beautiful scene just for him was unbelievable.

  Whenever Miss Collingsworth was around, he felt like everything would be all right. . . not perfect. . . but all right. He thought about how kind she was and how her breathtaking Indian beauty made her seem like an angel from history past. . . like Pocahontas or Sacagawea. He had read about them in his history lessons.

  He had daydreamed about great adventures where Miss Collingsworth was his guide in the wild. Together, they would discover great lands, track wildlife, and follow rivers wherever they would lead. They would make a great team— like Lewis and Clark.

  After they finished off ham sandwiches for lunch, Maggie got home from work, bushed from waiting tables at the diner.

  “Hey, everybody,” she announced as she stepped through the front door of the main house. Before she could get any more words out of her mouth, Gabriel piped up.

  “Mom, I’ve got to show you something. Right now. Come on!” He grabbed her hand and tried to lead her to their unit around the back of the house.

  “Gabriel, honey. I haven’t eaten yet, so let me sit down for a minute. I’m tired.” Sometimes her son didn’t understand what it was like to stand on your feet for seven hours at a time.

  “You want a ham sandwich?” asked Miss Vonda.

  “That would be great. Thank you so much. The diner was busy today. I bet I didn’t stop moving my entire shift.”

  Gabriel was getting anxious. “Mom, seriously. You have to come see what I got for my birthday!”

  “Someone got you something for your birthday? I thought your birthday wasn’t until next week,” she said with a smile.

  “Funny, Mom.”

  She thought maybe one of his school friends had given him some candy or something.

  Gabriel disappeared, and Maggie enjoyed some adult talk with Miss Vonda while she ate her ham and mustard sandwich.

  A couple of minutes later, he returned. “You done yet?” he asked.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” She rolled her eyes to Miss Vonda.

  “I’m waiting for you.” Gabriel ran back outside.

  “His present is quite amazing, dear,” Miss Vonda said as she put the condiments back in the refrigerator.

  “Well, then, I definitely want to see this.” Her curiosity piqued, she walked out back and into their rental. She pushed open the door to the bedroom and found Gabriel staring at the wall over his cot.

  “Okay, Gabe. I’m all yours. What did you get for your birthday?” He pointed to a painting hanging on the wall— a painting she had never seen before. Her jaw flew open.

  “This is your birthday gift? Who. . . where. . . where did this come from? It’s amazing.” Maggie leaned in for a closer look, fixated on the magnificent art.

  “Miss Collingsworth gave it to me today. She painted it for me.”

  “Your teacher?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Can I take it down so I can see it better in the light?”

  “I’ll get it, Mom.” Gabriel stood on his cot and carefully lowered the painting off of the wall hook. “You have to sit down if you want to look at it,” he said. Maggie sat down on the bed, and Gabriel placed it on her lap.

  “Look at the moving water and the detail in the trees. The River almost looks like it’s moving,” Gabriel said.

  She studied the painting further. “Look! Look at the deer! Everything’s so lifelike. . . and this frame. . .” She kept running her hands over the edges.

  “I know, Mom. I told you. It’s amazing.”

  Maggie held each side of the painting and lifted it up for a straight-on look. “The more you look at The River, the more you see,” she said, her voice trailing off. “What does this say? Ack. . .” She tried to sound out the signature as she looked closer.

  “That’s her Indian name, Mom—Aykwa-Aykwanee. It means Great River. Miss Collingsworth knows The River. She grew up at The River. She used to live there. . . like me. When can we go back to The River. . . you know. . . where we lived with Dad?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that. Our life is in Cairo now, sweetheart.” Maggie turned her attention back to the painting. “This is such a beautiful gift,” she said as distant thoughts of Colorado revisited her. In her mind it was not an option to go back. There were too many painful memories better left imprisoned in Corley Falls.

  It was later that afternoon when Gabriel noticed the card tucked behind the painting. He opened the envelope and discovered a note from Miss Collingsworth.

  February 24, 1963

  To my friend and student Gabriel Clarke,

  Happy Birthday! Always remember, you are a special, one-of-a-kind work of art. There will never be another you. You are treasured and loved. Now a piece of me will always be with you. You are not alone. You are never alone. Great River loves you.

  Aykwa-Aykwanee—

  Lily Collingsworth

  Gabriel didn’t say anything about the note, but he knew that he didn’t want anyone else to read it. That was between him and the most special person in the world— after his mom, of course.

  With Miss Collingsworth’s note tucked safely under his pillow, he went to bed that night thankful for the gift he received. He didn’t think his birthday could get any better. . . but it did.

  EIGHT

  A Birthday Gift

  GABRIEL WOKE UP TO THE SMELL OF HIS FAVORITE breakfast cooking—chocolate chip pancakes and bacon. The chocolate chips were a rare treat, but after all, it was his birthday. He was stumbling out of the bedroom when he overheard his mother saying, “Don’t you think it’s too cold to go?”

  “Nah. That sun is going to take us up to the sixties today,” replied Mister Earl.

  Still wiping the sleep from his eyes, Gabriel stepped into the kitchen.

  “There he is! Twelve years old. Happy birthday, Gabriel!” His mother wiped her hands on a dish towel and gave him a hug. Mister Earl tapped his shoulder with a warm pat.

  “You sit here,” his mother directed. She pulled out his chair and placed a feast in front of him: chocolate chip pancakes, four pieces of bacon, and a tall glass of milk. Then she struck a match and lit a birthday candle in the middle of his pancakes.

  She and Mister Earl warbled an off-key rendition of “Happy birthday, dear Gabriel,” causing the birthday boy to turn red with embarrassment, but his smile spoke of his happiness.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you, Gabriel,” Mister Earl said, which caught Gabriel off guard.

  “Really?” Gabriel hadn’t thought his birthday weekend could get any better, considering the painting he’d received from Miss Collingsworth the day before.

  “Yep. When you’re done eating, come see me in the barn.”

  “Are we going somewhere? I heard Mom say it might be too cold.” Gabriel hoped against hope it was what he thought it was.

  After enjoying every bite of his breakfast, he went out to visit Mister Earl in the barn.
Inside the cowshed, shafts of light beamed through the cracks in the wood, illuminating the particles of hay in the air.

  “Come on back here,” Mister Earl called from behind the tractor. Gabriel followed his voice to find the older man holding a fishing pole in his hand.

  “This is for you.” He handed the new rod and reel to Gabriel, who was in awe as he took a closer look at the shiny rod.

  “This is mine?”

  “Yep. All yours. That there is a brand-new Zebco spin cast reel. It’s real easy to cast.”

  “Thank you so much, Mister Earl. This is so cool!” Gabriel lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him.

  “Okay, that’s good, that’s good.” Mister Earl patted him firmly on the back a couple of times. “What do you say we go try it out today? I have to sell those two pigs out there, and then we can head to The River to give ’er a whirl.”

  “All right!” Gabriel jumped up and shouted, and then he took off to show his mother his new gift.

  “Mom! Mom!” Gabriel kept shouting as he ran up to the house.

  Maggie opened the screen door. “What did you get?” Gabriel held up the flashy pole.

  “Oh wow! A new fishing pole!”

  “Mister Earl said he’d take me to The River to go fishing today. Can I go?”

  “Well. . . seeing that it’s your birthday. . .” Maggie smiled. “Are you guys going to go catch us some dinner?”

  “Of course we are!”

  Mister Earl shut the barn door and called out, “Get your clothes changed, Master Gabriel, and help me get these pigs loaded.”

  “Yes, sir!” He saluted.

  It was going to be the best birthday ever.

  Spring was in the air a little early this year. They might have a few more cold days, but it was the type of warm day that portended a welcome change from winter cold to summer warmth. A blue sky mottled with fluffy clouds hung over the landscape. The temperature might reach the high sixties by midday, maybe even touch seventy. The promise of spring lifted Gabriel’s spirits.