RUNAWAY MOON

by Howard Brian Edgar

  When the campfire finally catches, the flames shoot straight up with barely a flicker. The once ferocious wind has not only diminished, it has disappeared. The crackle of the rain-dampened wood punctuates their conversation, which is now focused mainly on the weather and what to do about it.

  “I think the rafts are our only option,” says Sam. “I couldn’t predict the weather even if I had the right instruments and computer models. There’s no precedent for these weather patterns we’ve been seeing since The Crash.”

  “I have to agree with Sam. You all saw those waves. They made the lake look more like an ocean. I don’t know how the rest of you feel, but I can’t think of a better reason to build more rafts,” says Alex.

  Deuce, pleased that two of the most respected adults are doing the heavy lifting for him, glances at Donnie and Eric for their reaction. They both stare back blankly. It’s been a while since their last trek up to Sugar Pine Point. They have no idea what the Pacific Ocean is doing and they don’t much care.

  “Let’s put it to a vote then.” Hannibal chimes in. “All in favor of building more rafts, raise your hand.”

  Eighteen hands shoot up almost immediately. Mariana raises Isabella’s hand for her. Lily and the two Mias are too young to vote so they sit quietly, watching the others and wondering, along with deaf Isabella, what all the fuss is about. That leaves Marcus, the odd man out again.

  “You people really believe your puny rafts can save you from God’s wrath?”

  “You don’t have to help us, Marcus. You can face ‘God’s wrath’ alone, without a raft,” says Ankur.

  “Okay then. We’ll start tomorrow at Dawn and work as long as the weather favors us,” says Hannibal. “Except for Marcus and our little girls, we need all hands on deck.”

  “We can help,” counters Meg. “The girls can help me make twine for the lashings, right girls?”

  “I always wanted to build a boat,” says Lily.

  “What’s a lashing?” asks blonde Mia.

  “I like sailing.” Mia Guerrero is excited to pass up school lessons and help the grown-ups build rafts. She has spent most of her life on the water with her family, so this seems perfectly normal for her.

  After the others head to their shelters for the night, Sam, Alex, Jessa and Deuce stay behind close to the campfire, which is still burning and crackling as the heat continuously dissipates the last remnants of the rain. At this rate, it will be Dawn before it finally burns out.

  “I just hope the weather holds out long enough,” says Sam.

  “Me, too,” says Deuce.

  May 1

  Five newly constructed rafts line up neatly on the sand like Stone Age vacation rentals less then ten feet from the lake. The Guerrero’s raft is the largest, large enough to carry all seven of them. Then there’s the original raft, which Rachel will share with Sam and Julia, plus one for Meg and her two girls and one for the Jacks family plus Donnie and Eric. Next to the four large rafts sits the smallest one, custom-built by Hannibal and Satin. It’s the only one with a mainstay, a foremast for adding a sail or bracing them against wind or waves.

  Should Marcus decide not to face ‘God’s wrath’ alone, he can share a raft with anyone who will tolerate him. Meg and the girls might take comfort in having a man aboard, even if it is Marcus.

  The adults inspect each of the rafts from top to bottom, tightening loose lashings, lifting them one by one to check their stability. They save Hannibal’s for last, paying special attention to the craft’s foremast construction.

  “What will you use for a sail?” Ankur asks.

  “Bed sheet,” says Hannibal, “though anything flat and lightweight would do the trick.”

  “It looks sturdy, as long as you don’t mind going where the wind takes you. But what if there’s no wind? We only have two long oars and two paddles. We still need enough for three more rafts.”

  “Then I suggest we start looking on the other side of the lake. Satin and I haven’t even touched the Nevada side, yet. Those people had their canoes and kayaks, too. We just have to find six more paddles.”

  Hannibal organizes a search party with Alex, Matias, Marcus and Ankur and they head for South Lake Tahoe. Once they reach the eastern side of the former city, they pick up US 50 and follow it north along the eastern shoreline of Lake Tahoe. Their journey takes them past the entrance to Heavenly Mountain Resort and within sight of the crushed remains of Harrah’s.

  “Looks like your former employer crapped out.” Ankur throws shade at Marcus who tries to ignore him. “You miss the casino?”

  “Yeah, about as much as you miss lamb kebabs or beef vindaloo,” Marcus shoots back.

  “You know Indian food?”

  “My favorite restaurant at Harrah’s was Indian. Masala’s.”

  “I’m impressed. Maybe you’re not a total tool after all.”

  They continue on until they reach Zephyr Cove in Round Hill Village and the landmark known as Cave Rock Tunnel. The tunnel was hollowed out more than a century ago when engineers blasted a hole big enough to drive an 18-wheeler through the tall rocky outcropping near the shoreline.

  Something seems out of place as they approach the tunnel. The surface of Lake Tahoe is now lapping at the tunnel’s base. The paved highway that once sat about fifteen feet above water is now dead even with the water level.

  “Holy crap,” says Marcus. “What’s that about?”

  “What do you mean?” Alex asks.

  “I’ve been here before.” Marcus stares slack-jawed at the lake. “The water level is supposed to be down there.” He points.

  “You’re kidding,” says Ankur.

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “Did we get that much rain?” asks Matias.

  “If our side of the lake didn’t get higher, how can this side be higher?” asks Hannibal.

  Ankur thinks a moment. “Now that you mention it, I think our side of the lake is lower. Right, doesn’t it seem lower? Didn’t Deuce mention something about it while we were building our rafts?”

  “He did,” says Alex. “He said the beach seemed wider.”

  “There’s only one possible answer,” says Ankur. “This entire area must have been pushed upward by the force of the massive earthquakes we felt after The Crash. The Sierra Nevada range must have fractured somewhere along here during the quakes. That’s why the lake level is higher on this side.”

  “Why didn’t we notice it before?” Alex glances across to the other side of Lake Tahoe, where he can now see the demarcation line between the original lake level and the new level, a band of darker sand dotted with dead lake vegetation and smooth pebbles.

  “We weren’t paying attention,” says Hannibal. “Your son found some dried-up mussels on the beach, too. Mussels don’t leave water by choice, unless the water leaves them. We just didn’t put two and two together.”

  “There is one other possibility. This whole area might still be geologically active.” Ankur shudders at the thought. “The most frightening scenario of all is that the Sierra Nevada Mountains are being pushed higher by a massive Pacific plate movement toward the California coastline and the North American plate.” He has to remind himself that neither Hannibal nor Marcus knows about the Pacific Ocean’s encroachment.

  “Meaning what?” Hannibal asks.

  “Meaning the land is still moving,” says Ankur.

  “I haven’t felt anything,” offers Marcus.

  “The only time you feel anything is when Rachel walks by.”

  Marcus shoots him a dirty look. “I thought we were starting to get along.” Marcus cannot fully comprehend how Earth had just suffered its most damaging blow in four billion years. He would never accept that it was only by some random miracle that they survived and beat unbelievable odds, worse than the lottery odds, worse than one in 363,636,363 odds.

  “Okay gentlemen, let’s do what we came here to do,” barks Hannibal. “There were dozens of lake homes and boat slips along here. We need
to find oars, paddles and anything we can turn into sails.”

  They make their way along the shoreline and stop at each pile of debris. With five of them working together, they scour through the pulverized skeletal remains of each former home and boathouse quickly, efficiently. Not knowing how much longer calm weather will hold out, they work with a palpable sense of urgency.

  “Let’s leave what we find on the beach and pick it up on our way back to Emerald Bay,” says Matias. “We won’t have to carry it so far.”

  When they finally return to Emerald Bay as Dusk turns to Dark, Hannibal, Alex and Matias are carrying a kayak laden with oars and paddles. Ankur and Marcus are dragging laundry sacks full of fabric, mismatched curtains, sheets and summer blankets along behind them.

  Deuce and the others come out to greet them, eager to see what treasures they have found. They gravitate to the kayak, an unexpected surprise.

  “Look,” says Ankur. “We even found a boat for Marcus!”

  They laugh as they set the kayak on the beach. The others ogle and count the rowing gear as Hannibal and Matias lay each item side-by-side on the sand.

  “Only five oars and paddles so we’re still one short. There’s enough material to make sails and the kayak was a bonus,” says Hannibal.

  “We even found scissors and an old compass,” says Marcus. “I think the compass is broken. It keeps pointing east instead of north.”

  “Let me see that.” Sam snatches the compass from Marcus’ hand before he can set it down on the sand. Sam holds it up in the fading light and studies it, turning it this way and that way before setting it in the palm of his hand. He points his hand at North Lake Tahoe. The red arrow on the compass needle spins half way and points east. Sam taps it sharply in case the needle is stuck. The needle wavers for a brief instant, points east again. He turns the compass around, tries again with the same result. His brow furrows.

  “What’s wrong, Sam? Is it broken?” Deuce eyes him expectantly.

  Sam shakes his head. “No, it seems to be working properly. If it’s right, magnetic north is now magnetic east.”

  “What does that even mean?” asks Marcus, rhetorically.

  “It means that magnetic north has shifted ninety degrees.”

  “Does the esteemed professor know why?”

  “I have a theory,” says Sam.

  “I don’t put much stock in theories.”

  “I’m not surprised,” says Ankur. “You probably don’t believe in the theory of evolution, either.”

  “No, I don’t believe we evolved from apes. God created us in his image.”

  “Which God and image are you talking about? Christian? Hindu? Islamic? Buddhist?”

  “Pick one,” says Marcus.

  “They all look different. So whose image are you talking about?”

  “Look, shit-for-brains, I don’t have to defend my religious beliefs to you or anyone else,” snaps Marcus.

  “You’re right. You don’t, and scientific theories can be wrong. The best we can do is look at the facts and keep an open mind as we gather new information. I prefer facts over fantasies.”

  Sam Hayden pipes up. “The fact is planet Earth was almost destroyed in the aftermath of The Crash. It is likely we got knocked off our axis by the blast, which caused a dramatic shift in our magnetic field. Still, without more accurate measurements and reliable data, I can’t tell you the extent of damage with absolute certainty.”

  “If I were a religious man, I would not question it,” says Ankur. “I would accept it on pure faith. So I agree with Dr. Hayden. We know that the moon stabilized Earth’s rotation. A sudden shift would explain why the North Pole is now sitting in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “More science mumbo jumbo,” hisses Marcus. He turns on his heels, stomps away in a huff. What does it prove, anyway? To his way of thinking, it only proves that God’s wrath knows no limits.

  Marcus goes off by himself while the others divide the paddles and the material for sailcloth. No one misses him. They have bigger, more immediate problems to solve. They are still one oar short. Deuce imagines how he might make an oar from the right kind of tree branch. He looks around, finds a suitably sturdy branch with a fan of smaller branchlets and leaves at one end. If he trims it just right, and adds a few more leaved branchlets using twine, it might make a decent paddle. He busies himself with the hacksaw and scissors while Donnie and Eric look on.

  “You really think that’ll work?” asks Eric.

  “It’s worth a try. When I’m done, you can test it with the kayak.”

  Ankur, meanwhile, finds Sam Hayden further down the beach, tells him about their lake level discovery. “It supports what I’ve been thinking about shifting plates and possible fractures along this range.”

  Sam strolls along the beach picking up small branches and breaking them into pieces, each about a foot long. “We need to mark the present level in the sand so we’ll know if it’s still active.” He pokes the first stick into the sand at the water’s edge, hands more markers to Ankur. They mark the beach at regular intervals.

  They also pass the charred remains of the funeral pyre where they cremated the bodies of the four Jakes. It reminds them of the fear that gripped their community not long ago, but now seems like such a distant memory. Sam places his last marker and brushes the dried pine needles from his hands.

  “What do you think, should we go further?”

  “I think that’s enough for now,” says Ankur. “It’s Dark and we can always come back and set more markers tomorrow if the weather favors us.”

  “I’ve been thinking. What if the earthquakes caused an upheaval or fissure beneath the lake?”

  “Possible. A fissure would likely cause it to drain and lower the water level on both sides. It’s happened before in other regions. I’ve seen smaller lakes disappear overnight. Some were fissures, some sinkholes.”

  “So it appears that all the signs right now point to an upheaval in the Sierra Nevada range,” says Sam. I wonder how the rest of the seventy-mile shoreline has fared.” Sam glances toward the northern edge of the lake.

  “Why don’t we take one of the rafts out and go see for ourselves?”

  “Splendid! Let’s invite Deuce to join us. That boy’s got a good mind for science. He might enjoy spending time with two real scientists.”

  Neither Sam nor Ankur knows about Deuce’s fear of the water. Naturally, they expect him to jump at the chance without a moment’s hesitation. They find him back at the campfire, alone, staring blankly at the lake in the darkness.

  “Deuce, what are you doing out here? I thought you’d have turned in for the night by now,” says Sam in a grandfatherly way.

  Deuce snaps out of his reverie. “Nothing, just thinking about… stuff.”

  “Well, we have some other stuff for you to think about.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve decided to take a raft trip around the entire lake to check the water levels and we thought you might like to come along,” says Ankur.

  The notion of spending a whole day with two real scientists is extremely appealing. On the other hand, the thought of spending most of a day on the second-deepest lake in America sends an explosive chill through him.

  “Uh, I don’t know what to say. I’m really, uh, glad you asked,” he stammers.

  “Good, so you’ll go?” Ankur expects him to say yes immediately.

  “Can I sleep on it?”

  “Okay, but we’re pushing off at Dawn with or without you,” warns Sam.

  Deuce heads back to his cave calculating the hours they will need to spend on the water. He knows the lake is more than twenty-two miles long and about eleven miles wide. He estimates that one complete circumnavigation will require six to eight hours, if they keep moving and don’t make too many stops. For Deuce, six to eight hours on the water, even in daylight, is a daunting, terrifying prospect. It’s also an unbelievable opportunity to learn firsthand from a geologist and a renowned astrophys
icist and one of his dad’s idols.

  Deuce weighs the possibilities. This is a real science opportunity versus the really slim chance that anything can go horribly wrong while the lake is calm and there is no rain or wind to fear. His first question is can he do it? His second question is will he do it?

  “It will give your self-confidence a great boost,” says Jessa putting her arm around him. She rubs his shoulder affectionately as if to reassure him. “When I was a little girl, only eight years old, I traveled by fishing boat from Vietnam across the South China Sea to Malaysia. I was scared out of my mind, Deuce. Big waves kept hitting our boat, knocking us around like ragdolls. We almost capsized a few times and I was seasick the whole trip.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “More than anything else, I wanted freedom. I wanted to go to America for a better life, and Malaysia was the first stop. My overpowering desire helped me overcome my fear. It will do the same for you, if you give it a chance.”

  “You know Mom’s right,” says Alex. “Besides, we are all from the sea. Our blood carries the same salt content as the oceans.”

  “I know.” Deuce has all night to think about it. All night to decide that he must get out on the lake because he cannot live his life in fear any longer.

  Chapter 15

  May 5

  “We are all from the sea.” Alex’s comment replays over and over in Deuce’s mind as he exits the cave, heads down to the beach.

  Sam is near the raft waiting when Deuce arrives looking tired, pale and disheveled after his long sleepless night. The battle in his head, whether to go or not go, face his worst fear or stay hidden in his cave rages on. If his mom did it, then he can surely do it. His logic must overcome his fear. Intelligence trumps emotion, right? He must learn to find comfort on the water because, as he reminds himself silently and repeatedly, there is nothing to fear, for I am from the sea.

  “Glad you decided to come,” says Sam. “It’ll be fun.”