Whispers of the Heart

by Stephanie Wilson

  “Okay ... I remember hiking alongside the lake with Tim. Then we came into the open meadow. And across that meadow was a trail ... it was a beautiful trail,” she reminded herself trying to relive the experience. “There were beautiful flowers and chipmunks were playing ... Oh, yes! They were playing by a creek! I’ve got to find that creek!”

  Erika stood still, listening intently for any sound of water. After a few seconds, she could ignore the creature sounds of the night and focus. Faintly, very faintly, she could finally hear a trickle of water, as if it was some distance away.

  Focusing entirely on the sound of water, Erika made her way along the trail. When the water sound would fade, she would change directions until finally, the creek came into view. Elated at the small victory, she began to make new plans. One small victory at a time … it might keep her alive.

  “Okay, Erika. You’ve found the water. Now, this creek must flow into something bigger ... perhaps a river ... maybe even the lake. If it flows into the lake, you will have a chance. You’ve got to follow the creek,” she chanted determinedly.

  After judging which way the water was flowing, Erika began to make her way through the thick underbrush, scratching her bare legs on thistles and sticks and bushes. Unminding, however, she continued. Often when an uncontrollable fear would surface, she would sing favorite childhood songs, delighting when she would remember all the verses. For the first time in her life, Erika sang at the top of her lungs. Knowing her talent lay outside of the vocal arena, she had always sung quietly, under her breath almost. But tonight, her music would accomplish three things she decided; it would alert every living beast in the wilderness of her presence, ... that way they could quite possibly leave her alone… it may also alert a search party she prayed Tim had gathered, and thirdly, it would keep her concentrating on something other than her predicament.

  At other times, she would quietly follow the winding creek, thinking of Tim and all that had transpired between them. Though a part of her blamed him for her terrible situation, part of her knew that the words he had so harshly uttered were not really directed at her. Obviously, someone in his life had hurt him terribly. There could be no other explanation for his tongue-lashing. Though she had always known they would inevitably part ways after her trip, she had hoped it would be under different circumstances.

  “Please God,” Erika began after some time. “Please let Tim notice that I’m lost. Please let him come find me. I don’t know where I am. It’s been so long since we have spoken ... I hope you can hear me. I don’t know what to do ... I need your help like I’ve never needed it before. It’s very dark now and I can barely see five feet in front of me. What really terrifies me, God, is what lies out there that I can not see. I know you made these creatures, but they seem very scary to me. Please let them stay away.”

  “Also, if I could ask one more thing, God. Could you please lead me in the right direction? I keep following this creek ... and I have no way of knowing where it leads. It could lead to some other lake, far, far away from Priest. Please help me. Please guide me. And, please, please let someone find me.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief after her prayer. Somehow, she was confident the message was relayed. A tentative peace had descended. She didn’t quite understand it, but somehow, she knew that things would work out.

  ` “Gentlemen,” T.J. boomed. “We are running out of time. Most of you remember Marie. She was the fourth member of our team at the Derby.”

  “T.J., just skip the introductions,” someone yelled from the back of the crowd. “We all know she was your girl!”

  “Okay, well ... we were picnicking up on Granite Pass. She left ahead of me down the trail along Logging Route 29. I followed a few minutes later assuming she would be able to return via the same route. It was after I had searched the trail five times that I realized there were several trails she could have taken.”

  “Men,” T.J. said gruffly. “She is very important to me. I must find her! I am setting a reward for $100,000 to any one who can find her.”

  An audible gasp went up from the crowd. “Ah, T.J. You don’t need to do that,” someone said. And then another voice joined in, “We’re gonna help you find your gal for nothin’. That’s offensive you’d offer us money! You’d do the same thin’ for us. Aren’t I right boys?” And then another man yelled a confirmation.

  After the group uttered a round of affirmative cries, T.J. humbly bowed his head. “You’ll never know what this means to me,” he said so softly that only the first couple rows of men could hear the whispered utterance.

  “Let’s not waste any more time,” Harry Cunningham spoke up to T.J.’s right. “From what I understand, the girl has on shorts, a sweatshirt and sandals. Luckily, they’re white! It’s beginning to snow on the other side of the lake, so time is of the essence. Me and Sam Wyatt are gonna head off in that direction,” he said pointing North, “and T.J. and Papa are heading Southwest. You men fan out in-between. The first group to find her ... send three rifle shots into the air. Let’s try to meet back here at the stump.”

  “Wait,” T.J. commanded before anyone could leave. “Send three shots if she is alive, two shots if she’s dead.”

  The awesomeness of their mission became evident to members of the rescue team. Silence descended as each sought different directions. Harry and Sam headed off into the wilderness and T.J. and Papa climbed the trail that T.J. had hiked six times already that day.

  The creek had become wider. It could now be considered a river, Erika imagined. Snowflakes had begun to fall. At first, the soupy blackness had all but disguised the tiny flakes. But after a while, she began to slip on rocks and pebbles underfoot. It was then the realization sank into her muddled mind. She was so cold. So very, very cold. Exhaustion was overtaking her.

  It had been hours since the blackness had descended. She had been so sure, so full of hope. ‘I can do this,’ was the mantra she had chanted over and over as hour after hour had passed. Only now ... her confidence was beginning to waiver.

  Coming upon a large tree, Erika took shelter from the wind now kicking up across the widening stream. Struggling to keep wayward strands of hair from her eyes, she tried to regroup ... tried in vain to decipher her direction.

  For the millionth time that night, Erika tried desperately to see the sky ... straining to see anything that resembled a North Star. Unfortunately, the evergreen tree branches were dense, affording little light, let alone a glimpse of the now clouded sky.

  A sob tore at her parched throat. She buried her face into her navy sweatshirt. Little noise escaped her dry, parched throat. Her vocal experiments earlier that evening had left her voice raw and horse. Tears streamed down her muddy face. She couldn’t go on much longer. As hope began to evaporate, so also did her strength.

  Stumbling onward, Erika clenched in fear as she heard the lonely yet frightening song of a nearby coyote. Fear momentarily infused new energy. Unminding of the branches as they tore into her skin, she ran forward.

  Then suddenly, just overhead, an owl screeched, violently penetrating the deathly silence. Erika screamed wildly throwing her hands over her head as she desperately tried to protect her life. In her terror, she didn’t see yet another boulder protruding from the rushing current. This time, she fell flat on her stomach twisting her ankle in attempt to break the fall and striking her head against a small stone. Breathlessly she lay prone against the frozen earth

  “I ... can’t ... go ... on ...,” she whispered.

  Minutes passed before Erika’s breathing returned to normal. Violent shivers ran throughout her petite body. Over the rushing water, she could still feel hammering heartbeats. ‘If I don’t get up,’ she thought to herself, ‘they might walk past me ... they might not even see me,’ she trembled. ‘I have to get up ... I have to go on.’

  Slowly and painfully she pulled herself onto her feet. Her head throbbed painfully and she couldn’t bear to put much weight on her now swollen ankle. Holding on to a nearby
tree branch, she willed herself to swallow the pain. The pain was easier to handle when she weighed it against her very life.

  The next hour brought little relief, save the cold numbness now descending on her limbs. In fact, she could barely feel her ankle, although it terribly slowed her progress. She toyed with herself, promising minutes of rest if she could just make it to the tree ... or the rock ... or the stump just ahead.

  But ... the river never seemed to end. Her feeble strength was now waning irreparably. The river had narrowed once again and was now trickling ever onward. Though it beckoned, she couldn’t respond any longer.

  A few minutes later, Erika happened across a large boulder protruding into the creek bed. The top of the boulder was several feet high and flat on the top. In her mind’s eye, it made a perfect bed.

  Promising herself only a few minutes’ respite, she sank down on top of the ice-cold rock. Wearily Erika dropped her head into her hands. She was coming to the end of her endurance.

  A loud cracking sound echoed down the river followed but a sharp rustle above her. She froze. Closing her eyes, she felt her racing heart beat in her ears. Hugging herself into a tight ball, she wondered if it would all be over soon.

  Listening intently, she began to relax as she heard the “who, who,” sound from above. It’s only an owl, she consoled. Only an owl.

  Erika rolled into a tightly curled ball on the surface of the freezing rock. She knew it wasn’t the best. Sleep could only be an enemy. But she couldn’t help it. Exhaustion was finally claiming her. Wrapping her slim arms tightly around her knees she hopped to ward off the icy snowflakes on her skin as best she could. And then ... blissfully … she slept.

  T.J. aimed his flashlight on his wristwatch. It was three. The middle of the night and yet still no shots had been fired. He couldn’t help but wonder how many men were still on the trail. It seemed so useless. Many more, of course, would join them by light of day. In fact, probably most of the original team had gone home to get some rest. He glanced at Papa who was currently taking the lead. T.J. realized their trek had to be a physical strain on a man of his age.

  “Papa,” T.J. called.

  “Yea, son,” Papa returned.

  “Do you think you should head home. I mean, this is quite ... exhausting ...”

  “You sayin’ I’m too old for this?” Papa questioned emphatically.

  “Uh, no, I’m not saying that ...”

  “You better not be, boy. You’re not doin’ this thing alone.”

  “Do you realize that it’s just after three?” T.J. questioned with alarm. “Do you realize how long she’s been out here?”

  “Well ... I thought we must be gettin’ close to that time.”

  “What do you think?” T.J. asked tentatively.

  “I think we better keep at this thing until we’ve found her. She’s determined that gal. If anyone can make it, she can. I’m only concerned about hypothermia, frost bite…” he finished quietly.

  “I know,” T.J. answered, condemning himself once again.

  “Harry,” Sam Wyatt, an old tracker, called. “Think we should try Granite Creek?” he questioned.

  Harry scratched the top of his head while gazing at the stream leading away from Upper Priest. “I don’t know, Sam,” he said shaking his head wearily. “I would never have thought we’d have to travel all the way to Upper Priest before findin’ her. It’s ... it’s like she just ... disappeared.”

  “I know,” Sam responded. “Can’t quite figure out her thinkin’. For a while we thought we were onto her trail. All those broken branches and trodden grass along that stream. Then, it just disappeared.”

  Each pondered their individual thoughts silently. Sam checked his watch, amazed at the hour.

  “Gonna’ be light soon,” he said. “Aahh, let’s skip this one, Harry. She’s never gonna be up there. Don’t make no sense.”

  As Sam Wyatt began to head East along Upper Priest toward the thoroughfare, Harry stood perfectly still, gazing at the stream.

  “Sam,” he called. “I think we need to check it out.”

  “What,” he said exasperated. “There’s no way in tarnation that little girl could have found that stream. It’s no way near anythin’ else.”

  “Nevertheless,” Harry replied, “I have a feeling she’s up there.”

  One thousand yards later, Harry and Sam Wyatt came across Erika’s body, curled tightly in a ball on top of a large flat rock.

  “Here she is,” Harry yelled. “We found here,” he called into the inky blackness.

  “Marie,” he said roughly shaking her still body. “Marie, wake up!”

  No movement. Harry’s chest began to heave as he knelt beside her, rolling her onto her back. Uncurling her arms Harry laid his head against her chest. He couldn’t hear anything for the steady thumping of his heart.

  “Get out of the way, Harry! Let me try,” Sam admonished as he moved Harry aside.

  For several minutes, Sam Wyatt, famous in his own right for his many successful excursions, bent over the limp body. Finally, he looked up to meet Harry’s worried eyes.

  “Well ...,” Harry almost cried. “Do you hear anything?”

  “It’s very faint,” he said solemnly. “If we don’t get her to shelter quick, she may not make it.”

  Sam and Harry went to work bundling Erika’s body in woolen blankets. Harry feverishly worked to warm the ice-cold skin praying that as he did so there would be some sign from her, some movement to let them know she would be all right. There was none. As Harry picked up her lifeless body and carried it over to a hastily made stretcher, he prayed for the first time in a long time.

  “Do you want to shoot the rifle?” Sam asked seriously.

  “Yes,” Harry answered swiftly.

  Aiming his gun toward the open sky, Harry fired the first shot.

  Miles away T.J. instantly held up his hand, causing each to stop in their tracks. “Did you hear that?” he asked of the faint echo coming from a location miles North.

  “Yea …,” Papa whispered grabbing T.J. extended arm.

  “T.J. turned panic-stricken eyes toward Papa. “One shot.”

  A second shot rifled through the air. “That’s two,” T.J. whispered. “Please God, let there be one more!”

  Silence. Dead silence. T.J.’s body tensed. Suddenly he jerked around as if someone had slugged him in the stomach. “Oh, my God,” he yelled. “There was only two!”

  Papa turned stricken eyes toward T.J. “I’m so sorry, son,” he tried to console.

  They waited in silence for what seemed like hours. Still, there was no sound.

  “It’s all my fault,” T.J. exploded.

  “No, son, it’s not your fault ...”

  “You don’t understand. We argued because of my stupidity, my pride. She was trying to tell me ...”

  A third shot finally sounded across the meadow. T.J. and Papa stopped and starred at each other.

  “What does that mean,” T.J. yelled. “Was it two or three!”

  Before they could utter another word, three more shots fired.

  “It means she’s alive! Someone must have run out of ammunition. They just fired three to let us know,” Papa finished excitedly, tears streaming down his leathery skin.

  T.J.’s face broke out into a relieved smile. As he brushed away the tears, so too the guilt began to wash away. She was okay. The woman he loved had been found ... and most importantly ... she was alive.

  Grabbing Papa around the shoulders, T.J. hauled the older man’s shorter, wiry body into a fierce hug. Each reveled in their relief.

  “Let’s head back to the base,” T.J. said already running toward the trail.

  Sometime later, most of the men gathered back at the old stump. Each enthralled with the successful rescue. Each excited to congratulate the men who had found the beautiful Marie. An hour and a half passed before all but two members straggled back. By then the first rays of dawn was beginning to light the sky. Finally, the men
concluded that Harry and Sam must have found her for they were the only two who had not returned. It had also been whispered and then finally agreed that there must have been some problem or the three would have returned to camp.

  One by one, the men began to slip back to their homes, relieved that the girl had been found, worried about what had befallen her in the wilderness.

  T.J. waited until the sky had turned a dull pink. Slowly, he turned to Papa.

  “I want you to go home,” he said quietly. And as Papa began to vigorously shake his head, T.J. continued. “Maime will be terribly worried. You need to go home and tell her that Marie is alive. She will not have slept a wink either.”

  Papa grumbled acquiescence. T.J. was right. He must now be concerned about Maime. “What are you going to do?” he asked. “I don’t think they are comin’ here.”

  “No. I don’t either. Something must have gone very wrong for Harry not to return.”

  Each man sat in companionable silence.

  “The shots came from far North,” T.J. finally said, breaking the silence. “Could have been as far away as Upper Priest,” he finished, voicing his inner thoughts.

  “Yea, that’s what I was thinkin’.”

  “If something happened to Marie ... if there was some reason she couldn’t walk back with them ... he would take her to the cabin.”

  “I think you’re right, son. It’s not far from there ... just a few miles. It would be the closest shelter around.”

  “Come on,” T.J. said deliberately getting to his feet. “I’m going to take you back to Maime, then I’m going to head on up there.”

  “We can be very fortunate the snow quit fallin’ about an hour ago,” Papa said as he quickly followed T.J. back to their wagon. “Last year, that first snow created quite a mess. Three feet in just a little over twenty-four hours. Never stopped snowing after that. Harry was stuck up there until mid April.”

  “Well, I guess someone was looking out for me,” T.J. responded. “I have a lot of explaining to do ... and it couldn’t wait until next April.”