After a ten mile ride in the Holden Village bus down a remote dirt road complete with a plethora of switchbacks, the group arrived at the Lucerne pier. Lilly hustled the children and all their gear onto The Lady of the Lake, a weathered white passenger ferry with two decks and several rows of tinted windows.
Lilly’s fears were confirmed when no one pounced upon them demanding that they all wear life jackets. The decks did have railings and the students certainly couldn’t fall overboard from inside one of the observation decks, could they?
Once everyone had dumped their bags into a seat, Lilly gathered the children around her. “Mr. Calvert is on his way to the hospital and should be just fine. We have a two hour journey by boat ahead of us, but this is one of the most scenic lakes in the nation and full of many varieties of fish. So we have a fabulous learning opportunity before us. What would you like to investigate first, the geology of the lake or the animal life within it?”
Soft groans met her words.
Lilly looked over the group, at the students in her care. Their hair was salty with dried sweat and stuck out in all directions. Their skin was covered with mosquito and fly bites and a touch of sunburn and no small portion of dust.
As the Lady chugged out onto the open lake, the storm hit. Wind slammed the windows and chopped the water into frothy white peaks. Storm clouds hung low about them, darkening the day and spitting out raindrops and hail. Lightning sliced through the roiling gray sky, leaving a jagged imprint across the heavens.
Lilly smiled at the children, slumped across their seats, their bleary eyes only half open. “I’m proud of you.” She got a few grins back, but mostly they stared out the windows at the churning lake, looking about three seconds away from passing out. “Have any of you ever heard of Ogopogo?”
Strudel gave a sharp yip and curled up in her lap.
“Anyone besides, Strudel?”
The children shook their heads.
“Well, Native American legends tell of a mighty creature that devoured all the grazing animals on the prairie. When the people appealed to God, He threw a great stone at Ogopogo. Instead of killing the beast, the stone created a vast crater with lovely mountains surrounding it. The crater filled with water, forming Lake Chelan, but the creature remained at the bottom, pinned beneath the massive stone, thrashing his tail and causing mighty waves upon the lake.”
“That seems a little far-fetched,” Emily whispered, her eyes drooping.
“Yes it does. But Ogopogo’s tale does not end there. It also includes a pirate story.”
The children sat up a little straighter and scooted close.
Lilly pulled some bills out of her back pack and grabbed ten candy bars from a snack machine. She handed out the treats and got everyone settled. “Be sure to take note of the stunning scenery as we travel and I will tell you the legend.” She unwrapped a nutty, chocolate-covered confection and took a large bite, chewing slowly. “So in 1812, a Scottish captain from Fort Augustus took a treasure chest and two mysterious female passengers on a long sea voyage. Somehow, a terrible storm flung them into the waters of Lake Chelan.”
“From the Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean?” Juan asked, with perhaps a bit of skepticism in his voice.
“Yes. It’s a legend,” Lilly whispered. “And that is how it goes.”
The kids nodded and scrunched deeper into their seats, some slumping over to pillow a head against a neighbor, or rest a cheek on the table top.
“So, in the waters of Lake Chelan the terrible storm threatens the pirate ship until the treasure chest inexplicably plunges overboard. The captain leaps after and so do his two mysterious passengers. The ship’s crew are startled to see that the two women have fins instead of feet. One goes after the captain and one retrieves the chest, which contains a large and fabulous egg. An egg that could only have been laid by Nessie, Scotland’s fabled Loch Ness Monster.”
The children gasped theatrically, and a few laughed.
“Many different people have claimed to have seen Ogopogo since then. A long neck and head sliding up out of the water, a bony spine breaking the surface of the lake, or even a newspaper account in 1892 of a young man who was dragged into the air by a flying monster. What do you think they saw?”
“Well, what kind of fish are in Lake Chelan?” Logan asked.
Lilly tried to stifle her triumphant smile. “The lake is stocked with cutthroat and Kokanee, but sportsmen can also find Chinook salmon, and lake trout. Some Chinook reach weights of up to twenty pounds. But there are sturgeon in the Columbia River, and sometimes these massive fish can be found in lakes. In 1987, the body of a sturgeon was found in Lake Washington that reached eleven feet in length and weighed six hundred forty pounds.”
“It sounds more like a dragon. Did you hear how Ogopogo flew away in that one newspaper story?”
“It’s just a big sturgeon. That makes the most sense, what with the bony spine breaking through the water.”
“No, a dragon!”
“A sea monster.”
“Can you guys think of any sea monsters that fit these descriptions?”
“What about that long-necked, flippered one?”
“Yes, a plesiosaur had a long neck and four strong flippers. A mosasaur had the body and head of a crocodile, but with flippers.”
“But none of those had wings.”
“True, but these are legends. It could have been a massive fish, or some of the stories might be fabrications created by someone who was sure they saw something when it was dark and they were nervous.”
“Or…a mosasaur with wings!”
“Well, at one thousand, four hundred, eighty-six feet to the bottom, Lake Chelan is the third deepest lake in the United States. It is one of the most pristine bodies of water in our country and a healthy habitat for many forms of wildlife. Who knows what might lie hidden in the depths.”
The children pressed their faces to the tinted window and searched the lake. Their enthusiasm was not rewarded by an immediate mosasaur siting. But Jacob did spot several of the white, shaggy mountain goats that lived high in the mountains surrounding the lake and Natasha pointed out an eagle nest.
These same students had stuffed her hat with gum just a few short days before, and now, all had listened raptly to her talk about the depth of Lake Chelan, and a wide variety of fish species. We’ve come a long way, Lord. Thank You.
Lilly glanced back up-lake. The mountains above Holden Village looked distant now. The Spider Gap Glacier and its two thousand foot cliff and the bright turquoise waters of the alpine lakes scattered below were equally distant. But Lilly felt changed for having viewed them. She had always known that God created fabulous wonders all across the globe. She had viewed glorious photographs in books and stunning footage in various films, but the hike across the glacier had been different somehow. Now she had felt the crunch of glacier snow beneath her sparkly exercise shoes. The burn as ice ground across her skin. The wind tangling her hair and pressing her toward a two thousand foot drop. And her own lungs had clenched with the impossible cold as she’d plunged into an alpine lake.
God was much bigger than she had realized and yet, more immediate and concerned with Lilly herself than she had ever dared to hope. She thought of all the answered prayers, about the hike and the cold and the bears and the ice ax. About her students and how to teach and reach them and how to become the kind of instructor whom they required.
God had clearly walked beside her. Answering prayers in the way that was best, even if that answer meant an uncomfortable hike, honey in her shoes, a bear on the trail, and a fine case of hypothermia. She knew how to teach these children now, which had been the cry of her heart all along. Strange that coming to this place required a good many “no” answers from God to get to that great, big fabulous “Yes.”
Lilly pillowed her cheek against her arm and watched her students.
Some with eyes alight, pointing at a delicate doe, bounding away from the shore. Some scrunched up in their s
eats, slowly drifting off to sleep. Mason, Juan, and Logan were coloring homemade tattoos of marmots and sea monsters on each other’s arms. Strudel stretched and jumped off her lap. He sauntered over and burrowed under Mason’s arm until the boy scooped him up for a snuggle as he drifted off with his head against a crumpled sleeping bag.
Lilly smiled. Thank You, Lord, for the beautiful students You have given me. Even though it defied all my expectations, this trip did turn out to be ‘fabulous’ after all. She pulled out a notebook and started a math lesson titled: Twenty-Five Near Death Experiences That Can Be Made Into Fascinating Math Problems. She flipped to another page and titled it: Forty-Six Fascinating Nature Facts To Spur The Young Mathematician’s Mind. Lilly wrote a number one on the first page and wrote out the first problem.
For the optimal backpacking experience, a hiker must carry 20% of their weight. If Marilyn weighs 120 pounds how many of the listed items can she pack for her trip: 1 tent weighing 8lbs, 1 camp stove weighing 3lbs, 1 sleeping bag weighing 4lbs, 1 small dog weighing 6lbs, 1 collection of dried food weighing 3lbs, clothing for 3 days weighing 6lbs, a first aid kit weighing 2lbs, 1 carton of dog food weighing 4lbs, doggy coats and hair bows weighing 4lbs, makeup and hair accessories weighing 2lbs, hand sanitizer and wet wipes weighing 3lbs, high protein granola bars weighing 5lbs, and emergency reading materials weighing 7lbs.
What exactly would her students choose to pack? The snacks, the stove, the small dog? Lilly smiled and couldn’t help the thought that perhaps she had managed to come up with a math problem that real, live sixth graders would actually enjoy solving. And it was all because of this ridiculous trip. Truly, the Lord worked in mysterious ways.
29
Coffee, Strudel, and an Ill-Considered Game of Fetch
A week later, Lilly clipped Strudel’s leash to his camo harness, tied the matching bandana around his neck and set off for a small, local park. Strudel had recovered from his clash with the wilderness faster than she’d expected. Yes, her groomer had raised a questioning brow when he’d found not one, but five small pinecones imbedded into the Havanese’s beautiful coat. But other than a very short haircut, her fur baby actually seemed invigorated by their brush with nature at its most spectacular and unquantifiable. Lilly’s sore muscles, numerous scrapes, and uncountable mosquito and fly bites were beginning to heal, but the memory of topping the glacier and turning to survey Phelps Basin spread out before her still left her breathless.
When she rounded the corner by the play area, Tristian stood waiting. He was on crutches but had somehow managed to haul both a picnic basket and a bouquet of wildflowers to the twisty gravel path that lead into the forest.
Strudel yanked his leash free, ricocheted off a kiddie slide, and sped down the path until he skidded to a stop before her date, sitting up and waving his paws in frantic greeting.
Tristian tossed the dog a strip of jerky and met her gaze. “No wheelchair to push,” Tristian said. “So what do you want to do first: footraces, tree climbing, or jumping off the bridge?”
Lilly pretended to deliberate. “It does seem a shame to waste that lovely picnic basket. What about lunch?”
“I suppose a few more minutes to heal wouldn’t hurt my leg, and I did pack chocolate.” Tristian held out his elbow and Lilly slipped an arm through his. He refused to relinquish the basket, but let her take the flowers after dropping them, twice. Arm in arm, they hobbled to the center of the park where two icy rivers cut through the land to form a small island.
Lilly spread out a quilt made of patches from her grandpa’s jeans and old flannels.
Tristian flung the crutches aside and crashed onto the blanket. “I give up. You can carry the basket on the way back. In fact, I think you’ll have to open the pickle jar too, I’ve reached my quota for manly feats today.”
Lilly pulled a whole roasted chicken, buttery croissants, fresh mangos, a bag of dark chocolate covered macadamia nuts, and a jar of pickles out of the basket. Tristian had also packed juice pouches, beef jerky, and a camo bouncy ball that matched Strudel’s bandana.
“How was your second week teaching?” Tristian threw the ball for Strudel and the little dog tore through a rose bush, jumped a log, and totally destroyed a lovely flowering vine in order to retrieve it.
Lilly plucked the slobbery ball off the blanket and lobbed it as hard as she could in the other direction. “They are definitely listening better.” She bit her lip and sighed. “However, that did not stop Mason, Juan, and Logan from putting our hiking adventures into comic book form and attempting to sell highly-overpriced copies during lunch.”
“But they listen when you teach?”
“Yes, I even—”
“Was that Strudel?” Tristian jumped up and grabbed a crutch. He hopped down the path, scanning the swift-flowing waters of the river.
Lilly choked. “Of course it’s not Strudel,” became a scream of horror. Lilly plunged down the dusty bank and waded into the icy waters. Her sandals wobbled on round river rocks and an icy paralysis seized her stomach and made her throat clench with the cold.
There, floating downstream was her dog, just two feet behind the runaway ball. The ball wedged against a tangle of brush that had washed against an old wooden pylon and stuck fast. Strudel seized his prize and scrambled onto the brushy mound. He glanced around, finally seemed to notice the depth of the water, lifted his nose to the sky and howled.
Lilly leapt forward at his desperate cry and promptly plunged into a deep pool over her head. Strong arms pulled her up for a sputtering breath of air. Lilly clung to Tristian and stared across the river to where Strudel continued to howl from his perch at the base of the pylon.
“You can’t swim?”
Lilly shook her head. The very first thing on her to do list was now swimming lessons. But that wouldn’t help them now.
“The river isn’t that deep,” Tristian said.
Lilly raised a brow.
“For me, that is.” Tristian smiled hopefully.
Lilly glared.
“Being short isn’t a problem if you will just keep someone tall around. Here, let me give you a piggy back ride out to Strudel. I’m not sure how I’ll carry him back without mashing him against the crutches. I did this for Emily when she was little and it worked out just fine.”
“Are you implying that a four-year-old Emily is my equal in height and weight?” Lilly seriously considered lobbing the chocolates at him in an unbridled fury when Strudel howled again. “Fine, but if your wound opens and you bleed to death, we agree here and now that it is all your fault.”
“All my fault. I swear. Now hop on.”
Lilly scrambled up the bank, leaned out, and wrapped her arms around Tristian’s neck. Then she jumped onto his back. They wobbled, but somehow he managed to place the crutches between the river rocks and creep forward toward the howling Havanese.
***
Tristian held the door as Lilly squelched into the bakery. Customers glanced their way and sniggered. The baker smirked, but took her money when she ordered two giant mochas and a box of assorted fruit strudels even though they both were dripping all over the tile floor. He paused a moment as he counted out her change and started to open his mouth.
“It was fetch, OK. An ill-considered game of fetch and a highly misguided sense of chivalry.” Lilly glared at Tristian who carefully untangled some water weed from Strudel’s silky ear.
Tristian returned her glare with a huge smile and held the door open with one crutch. “After you, my lady. And does this mean your answer is “yes” to coffee and a game of volleyball with the youth group kids next week?”
“You’re still on crutches.”
“Now that we know it is for sure possible to swim the river, retrieve drowning school teachers and small dogs, all with crutches in tow, the sky’s the limit. Right?”
Lilly tucked the box of strudels under her arm and marched through the door. “I’ll tell you after I finish my pastries. You did say this place made confectio
ns delicious enough to melt stone? Well, now is the perfect time to test your theory.” Lilly stomped down the street ahead of Tristian, but not so far ahead that she didn’t hear him whisper to the baker, “I think she likes me.”
Epilogue
Ten Years Later
Lilly glanced around her classroom for the last time. She picked up a file box filled to the brim with her own unique math problems, when a student threw her arms around Lilly’s neck necessitating that the file box go back down.
“Ms. Blanchard will take good care of you. Give her a chance, Cheyanne. I’m sure she has a plethora of good ideas.”
“But she’s too tall and did you see how she has our names all color coordinated on the attendance list? As soon as you leave she’ll pull out her own name tags and I already know mine is pink.”
Lilly, stifled a smile. She had seen the young teacher’s name tags and accompanying attendance list. Color coordinated with personally created cartoons based on each student’s school picture. The system would help the first-year teacher learn students’ names and faces faster and perhaps give her the confidence she needed to navigate the sometimes rocky journey of teaching sixth graders. “You will simply have to learn together.” She sat down and met the girl’s troubled gaze. “Did you know that my first students thought I was too short to teach them? Besides, if I wait much longer, I’ll be rolling down the halls instead of walking and that would certainly cause accidents, and highly disruptive explosions of laughter during learning time.”
Lilly’s students glanced skeptically at her round belly, obviously considering the possibility. “We wouldn’t mind rolling you.” Eduardo piped up.
“I know. You are very brave not to balk at such an arduous task. But I have a tiny student to think of now, and remember, I’ll be back for the math fair and field trips. I wouldn’t dream of missing “Math Your Way Through The Mountains” day, or when Mr. Calvert brings the smoke jumpers in for the “Math Emergency Marathon.”
Lilly stood and reached for the last box, but her students beat her to it. They crowded around until four of them finally combined efforts to walk the file box out to her car, even though one would have been sufficient.
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