by Aaron Mach
“Get up you son of a bitch, got a surprise for ya! Come on!”
Jack got his clothes on and followed Eli out of the cabin. He had never seen a man that old move so fast, kind of shuffling across the grass and dirt then through the trees. He could hear the river rushing and getting louder the closer that they got. Once they made it through the clearing, Jack saw what he had only seen in his dreams; the beauty and majesty of the river with trout dancing three feet in the air. A smile spread across Jack’s face without him even knowing it, stretching those muscles for the first time in decades. Eli noticed the smile before Jack did. “See, told ya, surprise!” Jack tried to get a hold of his smile to hold back but he simply could not, as the river raged so did his heart. The rapids bursting through dams of pain and misery, destroying vestiges of hatred and sorrow that had burrowed within him all of these years. He had seen this phenomenon before but at this time in this moment it became something else, a release, a beginning of something that could be salvaged within him.
“Don’t just stand there! Grab this!” Eli handed him a net and he walked into the river about knee deep and began to try and catch the trout as they came flying at him. He had a basket on his side to put the fish he caught and he began to grab two or three at a time. Jack moved over to the water with caution at first but then let himself be free in the moment. He began to laugh. They both laughed heartily as if they were the only men left on the planet free to roam and conquer the world. Masters of their universe and for the first time feeling as freemen often do upon the unshackling of their hearts. Their spirits rekindled by each other’s company and in the magic of the moment. The basket was full of two-dozen trout and was hemorrhaging the most beautiful fish Montana had to offer. They began to walk back and Jack lost his footing for a moment. In those rapids a moment was all it would take.
“Gotcha,” as Eli thrust his hand out and grabbed Jack’s hand.
“I know,” Jack replied with a smile. They looked at each other and found a bond there that neither had for as long as they could remember. They got to the shore and sat there, out of breath. Neither said a word and both with massive grins on their faces. Eli and Jack walked back to the cabin as the sun was beginning to come down. That night they made a great fire and roasted all the fish they could eat. The whiskey bottle was empty and each with a full belly laughed through the night about the happiest times of their lives. They were the lords of all creation, even the fish danced for them.
…
Arch left a dollar in loose change on the table. Attempting to move his large frame out of the booth and finally making it to his feet, he gave a wink to Cheryl on his way out. She half-heartily waved and shook her head. Arch left out the main entrance of the diner. He walked over to the pay telephone covered in graffiti just a few feet outside. The quarter dropped into the slot and he dialed from memory. Someone answered, heavy breathing on the other end.
“Do it, now,” said Arch as he hung up.
The sun was just falling behind the mountains and the light cast eerie shadows across the highway. Arch took a soft pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and his lighter. He tapped the bottom, pulled out a Camel, placed it in his mouth, and lit it. He put the pack away and with a metallic clang closed the cap of the zippo. A long inhale and a long exhale heavy with the cigarette’s smoke, and he whistled the hundred feet to his truck.
XVII
Marie had spent the day tracking down the former residents of the many cabins throughout the Flathead Wilderness Area who had mysteriously signed over their homes. No mystery really, she thought. She went to a number of different trailer parks and was met with half-truths and tight lips. The last trailer park she left out of Kalispell left her with nothing. On the way out of the entrance a small boy was playing with some friends kicking a soccer ball around in the dirt. They were barefoot and had mud all over their faces and clothes. “Hey mister, mind if I ask you a question,” Marie asked with a smile while leaning out the driver’s side window.
“Huh, yeah okay miss, what’s up?”
“When did you and your parents move here?”
“Ain’t suppose to say miss, and it just me and my pa.”
“I see, well your daddy said it would be okay for you to say,” and she felt the guilt immediately after saying this. Lying to children, great Marie, just great.
“Some guys came to our house out there,” presumably pointing in the direction of his house. “And they said we gotta leave, we only had a couple hours to pack our stuff.”
“Did the men say why they were there?”
“Nah, just that we had to leave.”
“Okay, where was your house little man?”
The boy described the house the best he could and where it was. She doubted the boy’s ability to give her precise directions, but considering it was the only house on that road, she figured it couldn’t be that hard to find. She drove off and wrote on her map the directions the boy had given her. As she looked over where it was she noticed that it was near the red marks that she had made earlier. Marks indicating the areas where Mr. Grimes’ logging operation may have had some influence. She threw the map down in the seat and pulled to the side of the road. The sun was coming down and it was beginning to get darker. There’s enough time, just there and back. Be in the bed at that shitty hotel before I know it.
It was pitch black and she had driven twenty miles up forestry service roads. She turned her high beams on and noticed that much of the area was already chopped down. Not unusual, but in the distance she noticed a small fire. She pulled the jeep off to the side of the road as much as she could and turned the engine off. She grabbed her camera, a bottle of water, and her map and threw them into a small satchel. Slamming the car door, she jumped into the drainage ditch just off of the road and made a huge splash. Rolling her eyes at herself and looking down with her flashlight, she was in two feet of mud. Slowly pulling her legs out and getting on top of the berm she examined the fire with closer inspection. It wasn’t just a fire, it was a smoldering heap of what used to be a home. She took a look around with the flashlight and looked down at her map, this was the right place, she thought. They burned that boy’s home down. The entire surrounding area was full of cut timber that had yet to be picked up. At that moment she heard some noises a couple hundred feet away, and she noticed flashlights and some heavy equipment. The noises were work crews heading her way. Not sure what to do, she ran to a rock outcropping fifty feet from what was the backyard of the burned cabin. She crouched there and shut off the flashlight. Her breathing was heavy and erratic. Who were these guys? Just regular work crews? Something about Mr. Grimes made her very cautious about being near crews that might be working for him, especially at night.
“Hey!” They found her. She got so flat that her face could feel the cool mud entering her pores.
“Whose Jeep is that? Wadn’t here before?” Momentary relief, but they knew someone was here who wasn’t suppose to.
“Dep-art-ment of… shit!” as the worker sounded out the writing on the side of the Jeep. “We got a fed!”
“Where?” shouted another worker much further back. “We in the middle a nowhere.”
“Yeah, dunno!” He shouted back.
“Gonna radio back, see what we should do!”
Marie sat there near in tears wondering what she had got herself into. Why didn’t she just go back to the crappy hotel, eat some vending machine food like she always does and crash?
“Burn it!” yelled the worker who had just got off of the radio.
“Do what!?”
“Yeah, he said burn it,” as he walked closer to stop shouting.
“Like burn it, burn it?”
Marie could barely hear what they were saying. All she could really make out was the static of the radio as it clicked in and out. She could see parts of their bodies illuminated by a piece of heavy equipment’s headlights. The felled trees blocked most of what was happening.
“Said if they are out
here with no car, then they ain’t ever getting back, too far.”
“Ah, that’s fucked.”
“Yep, but hey, he’s the boss.”
The younger of the two workers took a rag from his back pocket and picked up a stick from the ground. He put the rag in the gas tank and plunged it down with the stick. He pulled the rag back out and placed the dry end into the tank with the same process. He pulled out his lighter and was about to light the rag.
“Wait a minute you dumb shit.” He signaled the heavy equipment to move back and told the other workers to clear out. “Alright, go ahead.”
The young worker lit the rag and they both ran into the woods down the hill. A few moments later the jeep was engulfed in flames and then finally blew. The explosion wasn’t huge but it was effective.
“Hot damn!”
“Ha, yeah that was pretty freakin’ sweet. Alright, everyone back to work, the boss wants us to get all the way to the creek by sunup or he ain’t gonna be happy.”
As the workers and heavy equipment began to move away from where Marie was hiding, she finally emerged. Moving as quietly as possible and taking advantage of the dark, she slowly walked over to what was left of the jeep. She could no longer hear anyone or anything and stumbled down the mud gulch once again and up onto the road. There was still a small fire inside of the jeep, and she walked around to the passenger side window. It had blown out, and inside she could see what was left of all her gear. The mound of melted plastic in the passenger seat could have gotten her out of there, but now, who knows? Feeling the sense of desperation approach her, she went to her knees and her hands fell down by her sides. Sitting on the road and letting the fear wash over her, waiting for it to pass, she had begun to contemplate her next move. It was undeniable now that this Mr. Grimes, whoever the hell he was, was responsible for the destruction of these people’s homes and God knows what else. She felt determined to get back and call in the cavalry. Finally she could get out of this damn state and get home. But first she had to find a way out of this wilderness and back to civilization. She looked in her satchel and saw her camera, one small bottle of water, and her map. Ah the map, she just smiled and could have cried and laughed right there. She held it up in the air like a trophy and gripped as if it were a small creature that could run at a moment’s distraction. Looking around she didn’t see anyone and began to walk to higher ground to get some idea of her exact location. She would have to wait until daylight in a few hours before she could really see where she should go. Marie went back to her rock where she was well hidden and found her old spot. The night was cool but not cold. Thank God she wore pants and a long shirt, almost wore shorts today, she thought. Curling into a ball, she tried to close her eyes but could not. Every sound and breaking branch kept her in high alert.
Several hours passed but finally she could see the sunlight attempting to break through the remaining trees. Feeling so stiff, she tried to stretch and move around to get the blood flow back. Calisthenics in the middle of the Montana wilderness, attempting to avoid psychopath loggers, while stranded because they blew up her only ride to civilization, wow, she did not expect that this morning. Accepting her situation and resolute to get back and bring this guy to justice, she looked at the map.
“Okay, let’s see…twenty-two miles from a main road going east,” she said, talking to herself. Her father had always talked himself through problems and she found comfort in doing the same. “Wait what’s this?” She pointed her finger on a red mark she had made a couple days ago. “Ah, lemonade, the guy who gave me lemonade. Eleven miles north. Hmmm, 22 or 11, seems like an easy decision, just hope that man is there.”
Marie packed up the map and took a sip of her bottle of water. On her way out she snapped a few photos of the cabin and charred wreckage of the Jeep. Wished she had pictures of the workers and their logo, but at least they never found her, she thought. Wonder what they would have done with me? Bad thoughts began to enter into her mind. “No,” she said aloud. “Not a good idea right now, Marie.”
The terrain was rough, there were two creek crossings, but she should be able to skirt around the major elevation gains. A mile in, she heard something rumble, her stomach. “What was it I had last night? Ah, nothing, a granola bar for lunch and a donut for breakfast. Way to go Marie, really great.”
She had gone what she had guessed to be about three miles at this point and she decided to take a seat on the stump of one of the felled trees. Taking a small sip of her 16.9 oz. bottle of water, an amount she immediately noticed, she was finally able to take a breath. Carefully placing the cap on the bottle and putting it back in her satchel, she noticed something. Total quiet. There was not a sound to be heard. She closed her eyes and felt the light breeze on her face. The sun was warm and she could have slept right there. “Gotta go,” she warned herself. Have to get there before sundown, she thought, not wanting to spend another night curled up and shivering.
…
Sol put the phone down and placed his lit cigarette into the ashtray on one of the holders near the rim. He opened the wall locker in his office and removed his equipment. Donning his camo and bandoleers of ammunition, he grabbed his cigarette and took a drag, promptly returning it to its place on the tray. The sniper rifle was in the corner near his bunk and it had just been cleaned for this very occasion. Grabbing the rifle and the cigarette, he took the string attached to the light bulb that lit the room and pulled on it, filling the room with darkness. The only thing visible was the ember from Sol’s cigarette from a hard puff. The ember fell and was extinguished with a grinding motion from his boot. The door opened to darkness and he walked across the highway into the wilderness.
XVIII
Eli and Jack were on the river the next morning at dawn, fly-fishing on the Logan. The sun was just beginning to crest over the ridge and the air was cool. The sky was a pure blue and was a good reason they called it Big Sky. It seemed to stretch beyond oblivion and make everything seem so small and inconsequential. They didn’t speak for the first hour and just hurled the lines back and forth rhythmically over the waters. The river was a couple feet deep, and calm. Each had gators on and a satchel to catch the trout. Neither had caught any, but that wasn’t the point. The joy of being enthralled in the beauty caught each of them in a different way. Jack had a small grin all morning and felt his humanity returning. Years of war and prison shut him into the smallest of holes within himself. His thoughts ran about his father.
“Hey son,” said Byron.
“Hey dad,” said Jackson.
They were sitting on a log staring out across the swaying wheat out their back forty. The sun was coming down and dinner would be ready soon. There were times when his father would show him nothing but love, he often forgot those times. Always reminded of his savagery. There was a duality to him that he now only understood.
“You know boy, sometimes in life there ain’t nobody who gives a damn about you. But you know what? You gotta fight and scramble for what the world ain’t givin you. Don’t let no man stop you from what you want to do or stop you from being who you want to be.”
This day on the river reclaimed that memory of his father. On that day all of the drinking and violence stopped, and by some miraculous divine intervention, his dad had a moment of clarity. Where he was actually his father and not just a man who came home drunk at night. He was still afraid of him in that moment but he could see, finally, his humanity. Jack had a momentary glimpse into his real father, one lost in his mind, a memory without the brokenness.
“Look out there. All that glory,” as his father pointed to the brilliant colors falling on the landscape. “You can’t forget the glory son, not like your old man. Hold on to it and never let go, because once it’s gone…” and his father just shook his head and put his arm around little Jackson’s shoulders and brought him in close.
“Got one!” yelled Eli. “Oooo doggy, ha haa! You see that, Jack?”
“Yeah, yeah, way to go old man.” Jacks
on said with a smile. They fished for another hour, each bringing home a fair share of the river’s bounty. They went over to a small shaded area next to the river and Eli began a fire to cook some of the freshly caught trout. Sitting there smelling the cooking fish on a spit they made out of a stick, each with legs sprawled out and arms back to support them. Staring out into the river, with the sun getting higher over the mountains.
Jack looked over at Eli and turned to lean on his elbow. Squinting he asked, “Why have you been out here so long?”
Eli paused, looked up at the trees, and shook his head. He looked down. “Sometimes the life you want ain’t the life you get. Thought I had it all. Then one day, it was all gone. Had to leave and this is where I ended up. Can’t say it was the right decision, still got some family somewhere. Nieces and nephews I suppose. Just couldn’t get myself to put another foot forward. Like being alone anyways.”
“Tell me about your family.”
“They were the most beautiful women, Jack, like movie stars. Only the kind found in your dreams,” as Eli looked away and moved to tend the fish. They were done and he handed Jack two on sticks.