“That’s not what I think. Tell me what you saw. I’d really like to know.”
She watched him. “One of us will cut the rope.”
“I don’t have a knife,” he said, striving for a bit of humor.
“There are some in the boat. You’d better carry one.”
“Then so should you.”
She nodded. She found the knives and slipped one into her boot.
“Why will one of us cut it?” he asked.
Emma glanced over her shoulder to stare at the thundering rapid. “Maybe to save the other?”
Nathan wondered if they should continue. They could attempt to find a trail out of the canyon, possibly making it north to a Mormon settlement. But he wasn’t the type of man to give up on something just because it presented a threat. He didn’t know if he believed in Emma’s visions or not. However, when the sparrow landed on her hand earlier, a chill had gone down his spine.
So many unknown possibilities. Whether one happened or another, how much was due to fate and how much occurred by choice? He didn’t know. His mother’s faith healing and subsequent lying about his pa’s death had left him cynical about such things.
Men make their own destinies.
You reap what you sow.
These were beliefs Nathan lived by. If Emma was right, however, there was a larger picture at work, a destiny for everyone regardless of the individual choices made along the way.
To run or not to run the rapid.
He was a cautious man, but enjoyed a challenge too. They'd come so far already. Emma’s boating skills improved with each passing day. He was confident he could get her through Grand Canyon.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes. I thought for certain you’d change your mind.”
They got into the dory and set out.
“Then it’s just proof that you can’t see everything.” He began to row. “I think our path is fairly obvious.”
“The obvious is just an illusion.”
“Then life is an illusion,” he said in rebuttal.
“No, life’s a mystery.”
“That’s a paradox,” he replied, watching their course instead of her.
“Yes,” she agreed. “God works in ways contrary to human thinking.”
He smiled grimly. “Then God must’ve created this river himself.”
They moved swiftly into the current toward an unknown fate. The boat dipped and rode a wave, then another. Up and down again, this time higher. Water sprayed them as the dory slapped hard onto the rushing surface. A bigger wave drenched the boat. Nathan held steady to the oars, but his feeble attempts at guiding the wooden craft were just that—feeble. The river made all the rules, and it was useless trying to change them.
They shot past sharp portions of the cliffs that jutted into the whitewater. Hitting them wouldn’t be pretty, Nathan knew. He tried to keep them centered, but breaker after breaker drenched them and filled the boat with water. The stern suddenly dragged on an unseen obstacle, dragging the dory around then tipping it before Nathan could react. He and Emma went into the water.
Immediately he felt the strong current pull on his legs. He tried kicking away while attempting to grab the overturned boat nearby. Emma surfaced about six feet ahead. From the look on her face, he could tell she struggled. The current brought her back to him then dragged her under.
“Emma! Emma!” He felt the rope around his waist snap tight, jerking him down into the water. Using all his strength, he fought the force of the current, fought to drag Emma out with him. He sputtered, trying to breathe, as he battled to the surface over and over, gasping for air. Emma didn’t have much time. How long had she been under? Panic gripped him.
In a rush, he popped out of the rapid.
He didn’t need to fumble for the rope around him to know what Emma had done. She severed the tie between them.
* * *
The water pressed onto her and Emma had no strength to overcome it. An unknown force held her, and blocked her escape to the surface. As if in a dream, an odd and unnatural calm settled into her mind. Nathan would never willingly leave her—how she knew this, she couldn’t say. She fumbled for the knife in her boot then awkwardly sawed at the rope that kept him connected to her.
She watched as the frayed end drifted away. Darkness squeezed her vision, and the dull sound of churning water faded into silence.
A woman stood on the other side of the river.
Relief and longing and desperation filled Emma. It had been so long since she’d been with her mama.
Rosemary Hart smiled. “I’ve waited a long time to see you, Button.”
Emma wanted to run to her, to touch her, to feel her arms wrap around her in an embrace only a mother possessed. “Why?” She sounded eight-years-old again. “Why did you leave me?”
“I could no longer stay. I loved your pa, and wanted to be with him. I was deeply ashamed of my weakness and wanted desperately to make it up to him. But I’m so blessed to look at your beautiful face again. When I gave birth to you, you redeemed me. But I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”
“I’ve missed you too, mama.” Her body heaved from tearless sobs.
“You can’t stay here.”
“Why? It’s been so long. I have so much to tell you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m always with you.”
Grief welled up inside Emma until she could hardly breathe. “Don’t go.”
“Open your heart, Emma. Everything you need is right there.”
“I’m afraid.”
“It won’t always be that way. But you must go back now.”
“To where?”
“To the living.”
Emma coughed, then convulsed uncontrollably. Strong hands rolled her body over as water poured from her mouth.
“Emma, thank God.” Nathan didn’t sound good. He took her into his arms as she began to cry in great heaving sobs.
She grabbed him and held on while the pain of losing her mama passed through her once again.
Chapter Sixteen
They were on a narrow sandbar along the river corridor. Steep walls jutted upward and surrounded them like a cocoon. To Emma’s amazement, the boat had been thrown to the side and had caught on a pile of rocks, so Nathan was able to retrieve it.
She sat hugging her knees to her chest, shivering, not from the wet clothes but from what had just happened. Had she really seen her mama? Had they really talked? New tears spilled from her eyes and she wiped them. Her teeth chattered and she hugged her legs tighter.
Nathan dragged the boat to where she sat. He dug out a blanket, not completely dry, and draped it around her shoulders. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. His fingers went into her hair and he kissed her forehead.
“You scared the hell out of me.” His voice was ragged as his arms came around her. “You shouldn’t have cut the rope. You did it because you thought your vision had to come true, but it didn’t. I would’ve gotten you out.”
“How did I get out?”
“You were pushed somehow, then floated to the surface. I was able to grab you, but it was damn close. You’d been under for a while.” His embrace gripped more tightly.
She buried her face into his chest and clung to him. She didn’t feel up to telling him about her mama. He might think she really was delusional. Maybe she was.
“We’ll rest here for a while.”
She nodded.
“Not much space to camp, but I don’t know if it’ll be any better down river,” he continued.
He fashioned a bed, and despite the heat of the day Emma lay down and fell into a deep, hypnotic sleep.
* * *
Nathan felt boxed in. As he watched the river rush past, Emma’s slumbering body beside him, he knew their vulnerability. The canyon walls pressed close—it was almost claustrophobic—and tendrils of fear and panic and anger snake through him.
Emma almost died today. The knowledge closed around him like a vice, squ
eezing him and holding him prisoner. He gently rested a hand on hers. He felt something akin to drowning, and the only life preserver in sight, the only one worth fighting to get to, was Emma.
* * *
Emma awoke to darkness. Nathan slept beside her, the warmth of his body reassuring her that she wasn't alone. As her eyes adjusted, she saw they were still at the sandbar where Nathan had brought her back to life. She tried to recall her dreams, but her abrupt waking had chased them all away.
Her body ached. Exhausted, she lay back and stared at the pitch black sky illuminated by a brilliant canopy of stars.
A flap of wings caught her eye. A bird? Or perhaps a bat.
Emma pulled the blanket around her and gazed at the heavens, aware of the deepness of the pit in which she and Nathan now resided. It was as if God had stomped them into the ground, and now they had to figure some way out.
The creature flew overhead again. Alone. A singular force in a place filled with opposing energies—the river carving out rock and the rock forcing the river away, the relentless heat of the sun and the coldness of the water.
Life.
And death.
Had she died today?
A flash filled her vision. Looking down, she flew above the river.
Blinking, Emma’s chest heaved as she stared at the sky above. The sudden switch in perspective left her light-headed.
It switched again.
Flying along the river corridor, the water appeared as a flowing ribbon punctuated with white crosshairs—rapids—that glowed in the darkness.
Emma’s lungs filled with air in a rush. She sat upright and clutched her chest, the tightness in her ribs almost unbearable. It felt as if she were drowning again.
She gasped for breath until convinced she had enough air.
Afraid to look anywhere for fear the visions would begin again, Emma cradled her forehead in her hands and applied strong pressure to her temples.
As she tried to make sense of the flashes, her mind wound around one thought.
Somehow, she had merged with the bird overhead.
Somehow, she had become the sparrow.
* * *
Nathan would have liked to stay off the river for a few more days, but their location didn’t offer an ideal place to camp, so he put Emma on the boat and headed downriver.
When they came upon another nasty rapid with no place to stop to consider options, he steeled himself to attack the whitewater. He told Emma to sit between his legs and hold onto him. If they went into the water, they'd go together. Tying a rope to her could trap her, he wanted her free.
Wet and anxious, they made it through without mishap. Perhaps he was finally figuring out the river. A conceited thought. Rivers had minds of their own, never to be understood by mortal men.
Navigate by reading the signs, his pa had told him. Pray for a safe deliverance, and never forget your place in the scheme of the world.
He and Emma spoke little. They easily handled two smaller rapids then, by late afternoon, came to an open, expansive area along the river corridor. A beach beckoned them to stop, and Nathan thought it would make an ideal camp. Perhaps they’d stay a few days to rest and recoup. They pulled the dory out of the water.
“Should we unpack the supplies, or explore first?” Emma asked, glancing around.
Nathan wondered if a better camp existed in the interior. A glance upward revealed a large side canyon breaking into the main canyon. There was probably much to explore.
“Maybe we should wait to look around in the morning,” he said cautiously.
“C’mon.” A half-smile brightened her face, still ashen from the previous day’s activities. “There’s no rules down here. We can do whatever we want.”
Nathan wanted to make love to her, but feared it might be too much after her ordeal the previous day. He would have to settle for simply looking at her. Not a hardship at all.
“All right.” He settled his hat atop his head, and glanced back to make certain the boat was secure.
They began hiking away from the beach.
After a time they crested a rise, went downhill, and came to a small creek. Green and beautiful, it was an inviting place but dusk was well upon them.
“Em, we should return to the boat or else we’ll have to do it in the dark.”
She’d been quiet during their trek. She’d been quiet most of the day, in fact.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m thinking,” she said slowly, “that I’m tired and should ignore the images in my head.”
“What images?”
She looked at him, and shadows clouded her features. “Do you really want to know?”
He wasn’t sure, but nodded anyway.
“There were people that lived here. We’ve seen enough evidence along the way so it’s not hard to imagine. Well, it is a little. It’s beautiful here, but so difficult to get to. They were Indians, and there were many of them. A child drowned in the river and,” she gestured to an area to the right, “that’s where the biggest flow of grief is coming from. Maybe that’s where the family lived. Or maybe that’s where the child’s body was laid, if they even were able to retrieve it. I don’t know. I get impressions, not factual accountings.”
She could simply be fabricating it, but Nathan couldn’t bring himself to believe that.
“Can’t you stop it?” he asked.
“Stop what?”
“Stop the images from coming to you.”
She swallowed and he noticed tears in her eyes. In a strained voice, she said, “Not when the emotion is this strong.”
He went to her and drew her into his arms. “How can you stand it?”
She clung to him and he held her closer. “Sometimes I can’t,” she replied, her voice muffled as she spoke into his shirt. “That’s when I have to suffer through the madness and hope I survive until it passes.”
“Let’s go back to the beach.” With an arm firmly around her, he guided her back down the pathway from which they'd come. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, Em.” He'd stay with her through the madness.
* * *
Emma awoke before dawn. Quietly, she left Nathan as he slept and began to walk back to the place they’d been the previous night.
Memories of his lovemaking still lingered in her thoughts and in her body. He soothed her with his touch and, to her surprise, it had worked. The responses he’d drawn had relaxed her while at the same time detaching her from surrounding energies. It was difficult to focus on anything else when Nathan made love to her, his presence shifting her mind and body into a sharp focus directed only at him.
As she walked, she stretched her legs and tried to clear her mind. The beach, the small hill, and the side canyon were as expansive as the place where she’d seen the ethereal beings, although the canyon walls climbed much higher here. With such a pure and pristine beauty, she could imagine why people had braved any number of obstacles to live down here.
She savored the seclusion, as if she were the only soul on earth.
A whisper of unease brushed against her awareness. Glancing around, she realized she’d lost track of time during her hike. She should return to Nathan.
Reversing course, she rounded a bend. A man startled her.
“Gotcha.” Hersch Baxter grabbed her arms.
How in the world had he found her?
She tried to twist out of his grasp and run, but he held tight.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Been lookin’ for you.”
He bent her arm behind her and she gasped.
“Hey!” he yelled. “Over here!”
She struggled against the hold he had on her, but fell to her knees. She identified the voices of Reggie and Abner as they all grabbed one of her arms or legs and held her to the ground, face down.
“Is she the one?”
Emma didn’t recognize this voice, but the timber resonated through her in a disquieting shudder.
“Yep,” Abner said. “She’s it.”
They flipped her over and dragged her to her feet. For a moment she fought for equilibrium, then the man with the strange voice came into sight. He towered above her, lanky in build, and skin unnaturally darkened from the sun. Wearing no hat, his dark hair receded into thinning wisps of gray, and his black eyes pierced her like a pair of sewing needles.
Unnatural.
Abomination.
Demon.
The images pressed on her. She willed herself to break her gaze from his, but couldn’t. He walked toward her, and terror flooded her lungs. As she labored for breath, she fought against the Baxters who held her. This devil would soon touch her, and she recoiled from it.
“So, you’re the one,” he said. “I'm called Diamond. But you must know that already.”
He reached his hand up and Emma braced for the contact, instinct telling her this man—this creature—could hurt her, and not just physically. His fingers lightly caressed her left cheek. In an instant, he brought both hands to her face and held her motionless as he looked at her.
The abyss was wide, and she fell into the darkness screaming.
Nausea in her abdomen swelled and her head spun. She struggled to see within the obscurity but was lost in her own fear and hopelessness. She gasped and cried, turning her head back and forth against the steely force of his hands.
In an instant she could see again. He no longer touched her.
She struggled to see past the tears in her eyes, unable to wipe them.
What just happened?
This man was…evil. She thought she’d seen the worst the world had to offer, especially after what happened with Bethany, but she was wrong.
“You’re Emma Hart, the white witch from the river. I’ve come down here looking for you.” He paced back and forth. “You’re a catch, from what they tell me. You have the ability to see the future.” He stopped and his gaze bore into her. “Do you?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured.
“Yeah, she can,” Abner said. “We told you. She could find missin’ kids.”
The Sparrow Page 14