Evil Heights, Book III: Lost and Found

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Evil Heights, Book III: Lost and Found Page 18

by Michael Swanson


  The appearance of this section of the Yalahalla was a contrast to the upper part they'd just floated through. The upper part was flat and green, the only ripples caused behind snags and an occasional big, round boulder. Here, there was an abundance of rocks in the water, some larger than others but all worn smooth, like finely rubbed sculptures dropped about in the craziest places.

  "Where'd all the rocks come from?” Phoebe picked up her voice to be heard over the increasing volume from the rapids just ahead.

  Lee pointed up to a jagged break in the top of the bluffs to the left. “I guess they fell out from up there, must have been a long time ago, though."

  Phoebe couldn't hide her anxiety. She again sat up as far as she could, and gripped the sides of her tube and strained, still trying to see downstream.

  "Don't worry,” Lee called back. “You'll like it. Honest. Just follow me. Keep your feet out so you can push off if you need to, and remember to keep your head up so you don't hit it on any rocks. If you do fall out of your tube, keep your feet up.” Lee demonstrated so she could see the correct position. “Whatever you do, don't ever put you feet down in moving water."

  "Why's that?” she yelled back.

  Lee had to cup his mouth with one hand for Phoebe to hear. “Your foot can get caught in the rocks on the bottom, and you'll be pulled down and drown!"

  Lee could see her swallow hard, but to her own credit, she stayed in her tube. Lee had seen other first timers chicken out and walk it, electing to carry their tubes down the right bank to the end of the swift water. Though some of the other boys would unmercifully tease a first timer who chickened out, Lee always took their side. There was nothing to be proud of about forcing someone who was terrified into doing something they didn't want to do. And too, people who were afraid had a tendency to do stupid things everyone would end up regretting.

  Before they realized it, the water had picked up speed considerably, rushing along, bubbling behind snags, and drawing into a distinct downstream V of angled waves wherever the current was constricted. Hydraulic eddies and waves were beginning to become more pronounced behind semi submerged rocks, sucking back upstream to form holes of froth churning and surging, mixing water and air into seething foam.

  Lee was forced to turn his tube about to face forward. From here on out he could no longer keep an eye on Phoebe. All he could do now was hope that she stayed in the tube, paid attention to his instructions, and didn't panic if she fell out.

  Two large, gray rocks glittering with facets of mica, one shaped like a mashed loaf of bread, and the other with a big crack in its center, marked the entrance to the Chutes. With a few strokes with his right hand, Lee had himself positioned in the best line, dead center between the two boulders. With a last quick look back over his shoulder, he saw Phoebe was about fifteen feet behind, bobbing up and down on the growing waves, her feet out, and a worried but determined look on her face. “Perfect,” he reassured himself. “She'll do fine."

  Then he was in. Caught in the grip of the rushing water, he hurtled between the rocks and dropped off a little ledge, the crisp water splashing high up his back as the tube submerged from the impact into the first recirculating hole. His tube bounced right through and he let out with a yell of excitement. Seconds later, he thought he heard Phoebe's surprised scream as she followed him over.

  They were in the main current now; from here there was no going back, or getting out. If you fell out of your tube, you would be able to count the number and appreciate the varied colors of the bruises tonight.

  All around the water had gone white. The sound disappeared in the roar; water was splashing off rocks, streams, and spatters flying in from every direction. Time was racing, the world a blur. The flow was perfect, not too high, not too low. Lee knew they were in for one hell of a fine ride.

  The Chutes was really just a series of channels the Yalahalla had cut through the softer limestone of the riverbed. In most spots there was no true correct route, just go. But to the right ahead was a long, irregular trough, formed by a sluice running through a rise in a parallel rock shelf just off of the bank. Lee paddled quickly trying to make sure he wouldn't miss the entry, then rested when he knew he was right on line. Flashing a glance back he looked for Phoebe, but before he could see her he had to look out to concentrate on where he was.

  Roaring through the start of the first chute Lee kept his feet out and his hands working. Keeping straight was the key. Everywhere the green water had gone silvery-white, bursting into the air as though attempting to escape the hazardous rocks lurking below. Stealing another quick look back, Lee caught a glimpse of bouncing polka dots and black rubber, a relief that Phoebe was still right behind.

  With a jarring thump, he bumped his butt on a submerged rock, causing his tube to twist around and twirling him around backward. Digging into the water, paddling rapidly with his right and left hands in opposite directions, he got the tube turned just in time to kick off of a dome shaped rock jutting out near the middle, splitting the current at the center of the flow. Careening off to his left, he went back into a whirling spin, the water and world flying all about in dizzying chaos.

  Through the excitement, he yelled out, just as he did on the big drops on the rollercoaster in Atlanta. He was whooping and hollering; the yelling was all such a big part of the fun. Through the rush and the roar he was surprised to catch flashes of the sounds revealing that someone else was screaming too.

  Entirely out of control, he rushed up against the far left rock ledge, the tube skiddering along at a dangerous angle, ready to tip and dump him out at any second. A quick jot of adrenaline sparked him, and Lee managed to push off with his hands and straighten the tube in one lucky move.

  A large wave, shaped like a haystack, squeezed out from the flow caused by an unseen constriction below. It burst out vertically, then collapsed from its own weight over him, pounding down and catching him with his mouth open. He hung on, momentarily blinded by the crash of water. Sputtering, he was back out in the air, spitting out the water he hadn't swallowed.

  A twist and a jolt had him spinning again. Still unable to see clearly, his tube was whipped over another ledge, the current on the downstream side curling back fiercely in a standing wave. The Yalahalla reached out, grabbing at the tube as he ploughed into the wave face, attempting to hold Lee and suck him back upstream. If he didn't break free he'd be drawn sideways, over into the raging sluice pouring over the drop which would surely deliver him a thorough pounding. Back paddling with both arms for all he was worth, and kicking violently, Lee stared back upstream into a place he definitely didn't want to be. With relief, he felt the tube pull free of the swirling grasp, and slide away from the danger, quickly regaining the speed of the rushing water as the hungry hydraulic was left behind with no one to eat.

  His vision was back, but everything was still a rushing blur. Just ahead a three way split opened up with individual thrills for each route. Lee was happy to have the current choose the right side of the three channels. At the end it wouldn't make any difference which one he was sucked into, as they all merged back together a hundred feet below. But Lee preferred the right side. It was a considerably rougher ride.

  Jarred to the left and almost tipped over, he yelled again. He was tossed left then right, and then right again, pin balling off one rock, bouncing into another, and then another, and another. It was impossible to see through the seething foam; water was coming from everywhere at once. The effect was like sitting in a convertible in a carwash with the top down. With unerring aim, the Yalahalla spewed from a hundred hidden hoses sending streams washing up his nose and stinging his eyes. Air, water, it was all the same.

  Momentarily coming back into one, the main current broke on a hard left turn. Tons and tons of river water each second were folding over on the right rock wall and then careening left to pile high up on a scooped out slab of slimy, green stone jutting out from the left ledge. Lee's tube bounced into the rock wall, the dark rubber flattene
d by the impact. Rebounding left, he slid down then was carried up, his tube skidding up high onto the cushion of water piled up on the rock with no place to go but back down. Leaning forward almost to his knees he kept tucked low. He spun, forcefully whirled around. He would have spilled over backward if it hadn't been for his feet sticking far out to balance. Dropping off the side of the rock, he fell into the trough formed by another ledge hidden behind the left turn, and twirled around so fast in the opposite direction the world became a blur.

  The thrill of the excitement rose up. He yelled then yelled again, but the third time he was sloshed in the face with fifty buckets of water that came from nowhere.

  Paddling crazily on one side, then the other, he got the tube straightened out just as all three channels came back together rushing in to create a surging, diagonal wave at the tail end of a V shaped plume.

  Lee was flying along, faster than ever before. He was trying to lean in and hold the tube down, ready for the curls breaking over as the water fell in from the side. Coming straight at it, dead center, he was swept up to the top of the wave's peak and hung there for a moment, before falling down the other side, kicking and flailing, the tube tilted precariously up on edge.

  The air was rushing past his ears, and water was exploding from everywhere. All the channels funneled all the water into one last screaming plume, the boys called, “The Last Hurrah.” This was just chaos; there was no clear channel at all. The frenzied water was whipped to froth, breaking over the tops of unseen rocks in flying rooster tail-like plumes and boiling up and bursting out from hidden constrictions below. Holes formed behind the semi-submerged boulders, ready to suck down and Maytag any buoyant object, which was stupid enough to let itself be sucked in. Lee rode through this maelstrom, whooping like a cowboy. It just seemed to go and go. He hung on and kicked, paddling to try to keep straight, but mainly just hanging on. Then the end was in sight. He drew in a breath and held on, careening down a wide, flat slab, a natural slide of rock twenty yards wide formed of a polished limestone covered with a slick, green greasing of algae. The river raced over the rock, a million miles an hour. With his feet stretched out and his arms up he flew down and then ploughed into a series of diminishing waves, the end of the Chutes. Still, with each wave spray splashed out with every impact, and Lee thrilled with each dip and rise. Then the water slowed, turning green once again and mingling around as if dazed, little bubbles rising up and bits of twigs and leaves twisting to the surface.

  For a moment, he sat back in absolute exhilaration. Suddenly he remembered Phoebe. With a kick and a crossing sweep around with his right arm, he turned the tube around to face back up stream.

  He couldn't make out anything at first. There was nothing back upstream except rocks and flying water.

  Something burst into view, a flash of red and white. It was quickly covered by a wash of spray as it fell off the first large wave near the end of the run. He saw it again as it bounded up through the water and could plainly make out a continuous scream rising above the roar.

  Out of the mess of waves and foam in Last Hurrah, Phoebe's tube rode the maelstrom, twice disappearing from view entirely as she fell into holes formed by the powerful suck of the water behind submerged rocks. When she emerged out of the last one, her feet were out and her arms paddling whether they were in the water or not. The tube slid down the rock slab, spinning clockwise like a run away teacup at a carnival ride. With absolutely no control, Phoebe went backwards into the last series of waves, plowing through heavily but somehow remaining upright.

  As quickly as he could, Lee paddled up stream to meet her. Nearing the tube, he realized it wasn't screaming he was hearing but hysterical laughter.

  "Are you alright?” he shouted grabbing her leg and pulling their tubes together.

  Using her hands to grab his shoulders, she pulled herself up, her bottom having been wedged down deeply into the hole in the center of the tube. Her face was both white and red; her ponytail had come completely free and was plastered to her face. Releasing her grip on him she reached up and pulled apart the hair covering her eyes, like opening the curtain at a matinee.

  Lee had never before seen such a look of excitement and pure exhilaration.

  She coughed, putting her hand to her chest, attempting to catch her breath, swallowing, and gasping.

  "Are you alright?” Lee repeated.

  Phoebe swallowed once more, and pulled the remaining strands away from her face. “Oh, we've gotta do that again!"

  As soon as she had caught her breath, they walked back upstream carrying their tubes on their shoulders, working their way carefully among the slippery rocks blocking the trail along the bank. Lee, as always, was amazed by the difference between looking at the rapids from the bank and how they appeared when riding on the tube. While on the river and in the tube, the waves seemed enormous and the holes and hydraulics huge and deep. But from the bank, it didn't look all that big and bad. He filed this away as an interesting observation in the differences between being a spectator or a participant.

  Throughout the trek, Phoebe kept up a continuous narrative, recounting each sweep and drop, even pointing them out and dragging Lee over to show him her route. “Did you see that one? No over there, the hole by that rock, not that one, the big rock. I went through on that side. I thought I was gonna flip for sure.” She had a hold of his arm, pointing, gesturing, unable to keep still. “Did you go through that wave? I did. I sailed up maybe ten feet. Oh it was so wild. The water was hitting me. I couldn't see a thing. My hair was in my face. But I wasn't afraid. Well, okay, I was a little when that monster wave near the middle almost drowned me. Did you go that way? I think I went to the left. I don't know. Come on!” As they neared the put in, she even began dragging him along, pulling Lee by an arm. Phoebe was so excited, she seemed she'd just explode.

  They ran the Chutes three more times before a waterlogged Lee insisted they continue on down river.

  "Now that is what I call fun,” Phoebe grinned, paddling away slowly, but continuing to look back up stream at the end of the Chutes. “If we had something like this near Gatlinburg, you'd never get me out of the river."

  "I thought y'all had rivers up there in the mountains?” Lee asked.

  "Not like this,” she came back. “Least wise not that I know of."

  For the next twenty minutes, she babbled as ceaselessly as the river, reliving it over and over. She'd ask Lee his opinion over some aspect of the run, but would be already into her frantic description of the next drop before Lee could attempt an answer.

  Lee ate it up; he'd seen this before. The first timers who weren't terrified sometimes talked about the Chutes for months. Too, part of it was Phoebe had been lucky today. The water level had been just perfect. Lower water and it was too rocky in some spots. Higher water and the whole Chutes just disappeared. Perhaps another factor in Phoebe's exhilaration was she hadn't been dumped out. People who swam in the Chutes usually got pretty torn up and rarely wanted to hazard a return trip.

  Lee was listening while concentrating on the foliage along the bank. He looked over to his left to scan the high bluffs, then broke into Phoebe's rambling. “Hey Phoebe, I think we're getting near the Ballard house."

  Phoebe ceased talking momentarily and paddled her tube around to face Lee. “How can you tell?"

  Lee pointed to the rock wall. “Those crags look familiar. And I think the rock is a little redder through here."

  "It all looks the same to me,” she replied, then added wistfully. “It's so beautiful. And those rapids. Wow! You'd think people would be doing this all over. It's better than darn any roller coaster any day."

  "Yeah,” Lee chimed in. “On a trout fishing vacation in Tennessee with my dad just a couple of years ago, we met this old man named, Walt. He was kind of a hermit. He had a cabin he'd built himself, back up in the woods by where were we were fishing. He and my dad got to be pretty friendly. Walt ended up inviting us to go fishing, way back in at a secret spot he
knew about, on a river called the Nollichucky. He had this big old army surplus raft with oars and everything. It was really keen-o. The rapids were big, a lot bigger than anything here. And the fishing!” Lee exhaled, shaking his head. “Incredible, absolutely incredible, trout this big!” He held out his hands spreading them apart to show the size. “Monsters! We camped out over night on a sandy beach and ate trout ‘til we couldn't eat anymore. I'll remember that trip to the day I die. Walt even let me handle the raft on a couple of the smaller rapids the second day. I think it was ‘cause both he and my dad were still drunk or hung over from the night before. I didn't care, though; I loved every minute of it."

  Phoebe's eyes had grown wide while she listened. “Oh, I'd love to do that. Camp out overnight, under the stars, a big camp fire going, out in the woods, just tell me when and I'll be there."

  Lee suddenly had this idea, more a vision, of him and Phoebe snuggled together by a fire, just the two of them, alone for the whole night. Just he thought of it gave him a delicious sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  A small shadow passed over them.

  Phoebe covered her eyes with her hand, looking up. “Is that the eagle again?

  Lee had followed it with his eyes and was looking up, too. “No,” he came back. “It's another buzzard. See, the feathers on the wing tips look like fingers."

  Not too far off in the distance was the circle of scavengers they had seen above the abandoned houses. Counting quickly, Lee saw it had already grown to twelve birds in the formation. When the one whose shadow had flown over them joined in, that made lucky thirteen.

  "Look at all of them,” Phoebe said. “Must be twenty or so."

  "Thirteen,” Lee responded.

  Phoebe dropped her hand. “Yeah, right."

  "No really,” Lee was a little defensive. “There's thirteen."

 

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