Edge Walker

by Chris Hampton

  “Cy Walker.”

  The man’s eyes soften. They change from cold to warm. The girl looks shocked, then excited.

  It's the boy's turn to be puzzled. The old man talks, quietly.

  “You must be Bae.”

  The world tilts, shifts beneath the boy. He almost falls over, but is held steady by the old man's gentle grip.

  This man knows my name!

  “How?” he asks weakly.

  The man says nothing and turns his back to the boy. Pulls up his shirt. Between his shoulder blades is a small tattoo. The same tattoo as the boy's and in the same place. The old man pulls his shirt down and turns back to face the boy.

  “Your grandfather was my brother.”

  Chapter 47 - Connected

  Bae faces this man and his granddaughter and tries to orient his world, to stop the tilting, to try and regain a sense of normal. But what's normal anymore? Normal is a word that stopped being real the day his mother died back in New Orleans. It does not hold meaning anymore. He desperately needs to find balance in the present, standing with these two in the cave. Scenes flash through his mind in a matter of seconds, of the house in New Orleans, his mother, her death, the short time with Grandfather, having to flee the burning city alone.

  Still, in his gut, his inner voice is quiet. From this quiet comes one question he must ask to erase all doubt about this man and his claim. Even with the tattoo as proof, Grandfather would want him to be careful.

  "Where did my grandfather tell me to go?"

  The girl looks at the old man. The man looks at Bae.

  "My brother taught you to be careful."

  A statement, not a question.

  "Yes," Bae answers. "He told me to trust no one."

  "He would."

  A moment of doubt, and the old man speaks. "My brother told you to go north, to the Red Cliffs."

  "Yes," Bae breathes with relief, then frowns. "I don't know where they are. I don't know the way."

  The man smiles.

  "That story is for later," he says. "When the shadows come. Bae," the man says and extends his arm to shake. "I am Jure Walker."

  Bae reaches out. Instead of gripping hands, Jure reaches and clasps Bae’s inner forearm. Instinctively, Bae grips back in the same manner.

  "This is Ever," the old man says, pulling back. "Ever Walker, my granddaughter. Your cousin."

  Ever greets him in the same manner as her grandfather. Bae marvels at the strength of her grip on his forearm.

  "I understand why you would doubt us," Jure said. "Your grandfather and I were half brothers. Same mother, different fathers. Some features similar, some not." He smiles. "Welcome home, Bae."

  Bae smiles back.

  Jure speaks again. "We need to adjust our plans."

  He talks in a clipped tone.

  "We travel tomorrow, not today. Bae, no doubt, has questions. We need to get back to the clan, but this delay can't be helped."

  As he talks, Jure stashes the herb pouch in his pack, looks at Bae as if considering.

  "Will you go with us?"

  Everything stops with this simple question. The answer seems obvious, yet Bae hesitates. Whatever his answer, everything from this moment forward changes.

  "It is your choice," Jure says. "We will honor your decision."

  Bae answers, choosing his words carefully.

  "My mother, Grandfather, even Ghost were my family, the only family I've ever known. I will go with you."

  Emotions, pent up for days uncounted, surge from deep inside the boy. Speaking the names of dead family and standing in the shadow of a new one overwhelms him. He kept so much hidden when he watched both his mother and grandfather die, when he fled the city and lost everything. And now, this unexpected kinship in the trackless wilderness. All of this at once makes him cry uncontrollably. He gives in to the tears, vulnerable for the first time since his mother's death.

  "I don't want to be alone."

  The shame of these words, of showing weakness in front of these two, who are so strong, washes over him, and he feels himself falling.

  But Jure's strong arms catch him, hold him up, and hug him as the tears flow. Standing off next to the small fire, Ever watches, smiling through tears of her own.

  Bae feels as much as hears Jure's words.

  "You're not alone anymore."

  Chapter 48 - Preparation

  The three spend the final hours of morning moving across the north side of the canyon gathering wood for the evening fire. Jure does a perimeter check as they move.

  "Do you always check around your camp?" Bae asks as they enter the cave.

  Each stacks their pieces of dry wood against the wall by the opening after they enter.

  "Always," Jure answers. He starts breaking his sticks into small sections and the other two do the same with the wood they gathered. After the small pile is stacked, Jure looks at it.

  "We need to go out one more time and collect another round. Larger pieces this time. I want to have enough wood for the night fire."

  Out of the cave and on the landscape again, the threesome moves up another area toward the canyon rim. Bae watches how Jure and Ever manage to move silently regardless of the terrain. No plowing over objects, mindless of the surroundings. Instead, they move over and around objects like water flowing over and around rocks in a streambed.

  It feels good to be part of this small team. Following Jure and Ever's lead helps Bae learn, like his days with Grandfather. Most of the time, Jure and Ever communicate silently using hand signals. While collecting wood, the two keep eye contact by looking out and away at the landscape then back at each other for a moment. It looks to the boy like a dance.

  Bae attempts to copy their movements, applying Grandfather's lesson of the silent walk. He loses balance a few times but begins to adjust. Before topping the rim, Jure and Ever stop at a level where their heads are just under the lip. They slowly rise up enough to see and listen. With subtle nods, they both move onto the rim.

  When Bae asks, Jure tells him it's their protocol to begin the perimeter check. "Pause below the rim or hill or high area. Listen, feel, look without being seen. Only after confirming it's clear, step onto the high spot."

  The trio gathers wood as they move along the canyon rim.

  "Loose pieces only," Ever cautions in a low voice. "No larger than your wrist. Do not break them. The snap of the break carries far."

  Ever unrolls a piece of soft tanned leather she retrieves from her waist belt. Unfolded, it's a foot wide by three feet long with handles cut out at each end. She places the gathered wood in the middle of the unraveled leather, pulls up the sides around the wood, and holds it together by gripping both handles with one hand, leaving her other hand free.

  Bae marvels at this simple method as he places his gathered wood into the wrap at their next stop. Then, he becomes aware of something different in their small group. Being absorbed in collecting wood and Ever's ingenious carrying method, Bae hadn't noticed the subtle change.

  "Where's Jure?" he whispers to Ever.

  Ever answers without looking up at the boy.

  "He's moving over there, west of us," she says and nods her head toward the west of their position on the rim. Bae looks in that direction, but does not locate the old man.

  Bae wants to ask about the hunters, if that's who he's looking for, but Ever's moving again, gathering more wood as she goes. It's a challenge for Bae to keep up. He wonders if this is her traveling speed. He hopes it isn't.

  Back at the cave, they break the wood to length.

  "Is Jure looking for the hunters who shot me?"

  Ever sits back on her heels. Bae notes how she rarely stops moving. He regrets his question, thinking it might be wasting her time.

  "Yes," she says. Her tone is quiet, yet firm. "Those two men, and others, may be looking for you." She places thumb-sized pieces of wood on the fire coals. "We need t
o be sure they're not around when we travel."

  "I'm sorry I've caused trouble."

  The girl stuffs the soup gourd into her pack.

  "Don't be, cousin."

  Chapter 49 - The Hunt

  Ever pulls a bow from her birch bark quiver. It's thin and short, only about three feet long, but beautiful in its simplicity.

  "Snap bow," Ever says when she sees Bae studying the tool. She pulls the string taut, closes her fingers around the grip made of wrapped leather, and tests the bow's tension.

  "Time to hunt," she says. "There's rabbit down by the water."

  "There's rabbit here?" Bae asks.

  "Of course," she says. "Fresh tracks at the water's edge, this side. I saw them when we collected wood."

  Thinking back, Bae can't remember seeing tracks. But he didn't bother to look, distracted by gathering wood and trying to keep up. Ever smiles knowingly.

  "It's always good to look for tracks. Tracks mean meat."

  Bae nods. He stoops to his pack and pulls out his throwing stick.

  "Rabbit stick!" Ever looks surprised.

  "It's ugly compared to your bow."

  "May I?" she asks.

  "Sure," Bae hands her the stick.

  "Wow. This is beautiful."

  "Really? It's crude. But it works."

  "You've bagged rabbit with it?"

  Ever hefts the stick to get a feel for its weight and balance.

  "Yes," Bae says with pride. "Two."

  "I have an idea," Ever announces, eyes dancing. "If we see a rabbit, you use your stick and I'll back you up with my bow." She hands back the stick. "Well?"

  "You're on."

  Ever picks up her quiver, with seven arrow shafts in it, and slings it across her back. She carries the strung bow in her left hand and leads them down to the canyon bottom. She communicates with Bae through hand signals, keeping them simple. To Bae's relief, he understands most of what she's conveying.

  The creek water, chattering over stones, masks the noise of their movements. To Bae, it seems that Ever's softness is instinctive and takes no effort. He tries his best to mimic her, but finds hopping across stones with weight forward on the balls of his feet challenging. His converse shoes don't help. They're stiff and clunky compared to Ever's mocs. When she steps, her mocs seem to form around each rock. His shoes actually slip on the wet rocks, regardless of how much caution he uses. Ever glances back a few times. She looks at his shoes before making eye contact. Nothing he can do now.

  Hopping to a basketball-size boulder, Bae notices Ever flash her fist in a signal to freeze. He balances on the boulder, not moving. Then she motions him closer to her position. He carefully moves and squats next to her. She points, with an outstretched arm, at tracks in the sand at the water's edge.

  Ever points to the tracks and shows, with hand gestures, how the rabbit is moving. Bae watches fascinated. He wants what she has: to be able to track and describe what the animal did at the place of the track and in what direction it went after it left.

  As her hand becomes the rabbit, he follows its movement with his eyes. It’s a beautiful hand dance. Then, the index finger freezes and points further downstream. Bae follows the direction.

  Thirty yards down, this side of the creek, is a rabbit, a damn cottontail! Right where the hand danced it to be!

  He looks at Ever, stunned. She puts a finger to her lips and signals Bae to lead. He nods, suddenly nervous. What if he misses? Scares it away? And, beneath the questions, he's still confused by this girl. Her strength. Her skill. Her way of moving in the woods.

  Bae is grateful for the creek noise as he advances along the bank, rabbit stick ready. Crouching, he uses scrub brush and tree trunks near the water's edge to stay out of the rabbit's sight. He looks back at Ever for confirmation of his actions, but she motions with her finger for him to look forward. He turns to refocus on the rabbit. It's gone!

  Where the hell did it go?

  His eyes scan the area. Nothing. Squelching a desire to stand and run forward, he continues his stalk, slow and quiet. He rounds a bend, frustrated he's not able to see further down the creek.

  There! The rabbit.

  Bae freezes. The curve of the shoreline hid the rabbit's movement. Once Bae's in position and has a visual, the rabbit's head pops up. Sporadically, it chews the sweet grass, like his first-kill rabbit in the hidden canyon. Moments later, it drops its head and continues grazing.

  With that movement, the hunt clicks for Bae. His body remembers, and he calms down. Confidence returns. Aware of Ever but focused on the hunt, he's able to push away the effect of her presence and stalk closer.

  As Bae learned with his first rabbit, stick position before throwing is critical. It feels awkward, the stick resting on his right shoulder, but he's ready. Sidearm is out of the question with trees so close.

  He moves closer. Feels the world shift around him. His awareness expands.

  Ever is behind him. The creek sends its babbling noise to his ears. Late morning sun filters through the cottonwood and willow trees along the canyon bottom. The feeling expands, connecting him back to the rabbit, to everything that is around him as he stalks forward. Thirty feet of separation, yet he can see the muscles in the rabbit's jaw move as it chews. When its head pops up, Bae freezes. When it drops down, he moves. Their dance continues a few steps more.

  Then, urgency pushes him to act. No thought. No hesitation. Bae plants his left foot and twists his hips to the right. He snaps hips and arm left, in unison, and lets the stick fly straight at the rabbit, just forward of its rear haunches. To Bae, it seems to happen in slow motion. But it's on target!

  At the same instant, the rabbit explodes forward three feet off the ground. And everything snaps into real time, real speed. Just as Bae's hopes for the kill evaporate with the sudden burst of the rabbit, the rabbit is catapulted sideways between two boulders and crashes to the ground. The fletching of an arrow shaft sticks out of the rabbit's neck, just behind the skull. Its rear leg kicks once, then it's dead.

  ~

  Bae stands astonished. He turns and looks at Ever. She has her bow up as if to shoot again, with fire in her eyes, deadly focus.

  She drops the bow to her side and looks at Bae, then breaks into laughter, staring at him. Bae realizes his mouth is open and quickly shuts it.

  "You look surprised," she says and laughs again. "Remember, I'm your backup?"

  Her smile is warm. No judgment. Bae laughs also.

  "That was fast," he says. He looks at her bow and turns to look at the dead rabbit. Loose grass is stuck in its fur. "I thought I had it."

  "Your aim was good," she says. "But it heard you. Just before you released the stick."

  Again, no judgment in what she says, more like a friend comparing notes. He thinks back to the moment he released the stick. She's right. He remembers his left foot scraping the rock when he planted and twisted. Ever points to his shoes with her bow tip.

  "It's your chucks."

  Bae looks down at his tennis shoes. The sides are worn through in places. Curling up the toes of his left foot, he's able to separate the front rubber from the sole. It flaps open like a puppet talking. The twist on the rock was enough force to separate the sole and upper shoe. He looks at Ever.

  "This sucks."

  "We'll figure something out."

  She places her left hand on his shoulder. The boy is acutely aware of her hand and its pressure.

  "Let's clean our kill," she says and nods toward the rabbit carcass in the grass.

  They both hop boulders to the grassy patch next to the flowing stream. Bae's shoe sole flaps now when he steps. He sees the red splotch on the fur where the arrow shaft sticks out. Ever picks up the rabbit by the arrow shaft and examines it. Its head flops loosely, the spine severed by the arrow point. She places her bow on the ground, still holding the rabbit with her left hand, and touches its he
ad with her right hand. Quietly, almost to herself, she speaks a thank you to the rabbit and pushes the shaft the rest of the way through the animal's body and out the other side. She moves to the water's edge with the carcass.

  The girl carefully washes the arrow tip and shaft of all blood and sets it in the sun to dry. Next, she stands sideways to a small pool in the stream, holds the rabbit's head in the palm of her left hand, thumb and index finger around the throat. With her right hand, she twists the body a quarter turn, holding the neck steady. Next, she places the little carcass across her right thigh. To Bae's shock and fascination, she performs a quick squeezing motion from the neck to the anus, like squeezing a tube of toothpaste. The rabbit's entire entrails shoot out the anus and drop into the pool, just like that!

  "That's awesome!" Bae gasps.

  He watches the neat package of entrails half float in the water. All the organs are intact. Ever eyes Bae as she squats at the water's edge and cleans the carcass cavity.

  "You don't gut rabbit like this?"

  "Hell no! I use my knife like Grandfather describes in the journal. I've never seen this."

  Ever laughs.

  "Well, make a note in that part of the journal," she advises. "Update it. This way saves time. Doesn't cut any organs to spoil the meat. And you can carry the rabbit until you're ready to skin it. Won't rot so quickly."

  She reaches into the water and pulls up the neat package of entrails. Cuts out the heart and liver and places them next to her arrow shaft. The rest of the entrails she cuts into small pieces and scatters them in the creek water.

  "Feeds the fish and hides our kill site," she says in answer to Bae's look.

  Ever stands, ties the rabbit carcass to her belt and looks at Bae.

  "Let's go back, but let's cross the creek here. Travel on the opposite side."

  Bae nods and follows the girl, hopping rocks to the other side. The pair work their way back upstream. After a few steps, Ever freezes and motions Bae next to her.

  "Want to guide us?" she asks him.

  The boy's pleased at this honor, a chance to show he's paid attention to directions.

  "Keep an eye out," she whispers. Bae nods once.