Blue Ridge Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  The victim didn’t stir much while I worked on him. His eyes were glassy, but his breathing seemed normal. I checked his pulse and found it weak. That couldn’t be good.

  “You with me, son?” I asked. “You can hear me can’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “I’m feeling weak. Everything is hazy.”

  “We need you to hang on,” I said. “Do you understand? Stay awake okay?”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”

  I used the radio to relay my situation to the folks waiting in the parking lot.

  “I’ve got them,” I said. “The girl is fine, but the boy had a tussle with a bear.”

  “How bad is he hurt?”

  “Running low on blood,” I said. “Weak pulse but awake and responsive.”

  “Can we get a chopper near you?”

  “That’s a negative,” I said. “But get one to the church, or at least an ambulance.”

  “Are you going to bring him to us?”

  “I’m going to try like hell,” I said. “Might need a ride to the hospital myself by the time I get there.”

  “We’ll bring a stretcher up the hill as far as we can,” he said. “Get that boy on down here.”

  Red turned his attention to the boy, licking his face, urging him on. I knelt and prepared to lift the kid.

  “This might hurt a little,” I said. “But we’ve got to get you out of here.”

  I put one of his arms over my shoulder before putting my arm behind his leg. I picked him up and put him in a fireman’s carry. He whimpered in pain.

  “Your shoulder is digging into my side,” he said.

  “That’ll keep the pressure on the wound,” I said. “Don’t cry in front of your girlfriend. We both need you to be strong.”

  I took a few cautious steps to test my grip and measure the weight of my load. I could carry him for a while, but how far I didn’t know. The last time I’d done anything close was when Brody and I carried a bunch of weed down my mountain. It didn’t weigh nearly as much. The girl followed behind me silently. Red took the lead. He kept his nose to the ground following our scent back.

  I watched the dog and put one foot in front of the other. I trusted him, and I needed all my concentration on the task at hand. I wasn’t listening to the woods or smelling the air for foreign scents, but Red was. I saw the hair on his back stand up and stopped. He growled low in his throat, a guttural warning to something that I couldn’t see. I knelt down and laid my burden on the ground. The girl came to him and put his head in her lap.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “There’s something out there,” I told her. “Red smells it.”

  “Don’t let a bear get to us again,” she begged, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

  The dog walked forward a few yards. His shoulders were hunched like he was ready to pounce. I saw branches moving fifty feet in front of us. I didn’t have my rifle, but I was carrying my pistol. I took it out of the holster just before the bear came into view. In the early spring when they came out of hibernation, they were hungry and in a foul mood. I quickly changed my mind about wanting to see one in the wild.

  Red sensed that this was not a friendly encounter. He tried to tell the bear that it wasn’t welcome with a series of angry barks and snarls. The bear didn’t give a shit. Wrestling a black bear was not on my to-do list for the day. I fired my pistol into the air twice. The bear stopped but didn’t retreat. It stood about the same height as me, trying to make itself bigger. Red ran at him and snapped at his ankles.

  “No, Red,” I yelled. “Come here, boy.”

  Red didn’t listen. He kept harassing the animal but that only made it madder. I fired again, this time I sent two rounds into the ground at the bear’s feet. Red got out the bear’s range but continued barking. I made myself as big as I could, standing on my tiptoes and waving my arms above my head. I growled in my best bear impersonation. Mr. Bear didn’t know what to make of me. Red went back to pestering the bear’s legs and snarling. Still, the bear stood still. I moved towards him and yelled even louder.

  “Go away, bear,” I yelled. “Git now. Go on.”

  That was enough. The black bear decided that the crazy man and the wild dog weren’t worth the trouble. It dropped to all fours and moved away from us. I was afraid Red would follow, but instead, he came back to us and sat like a good boy. As soon as my heartbeat slowed, I picked the boy up again and started back down the hill. We came to the river below the falls, and I had to put him down again. There was no way I could carry him up over the rocks, but there was no need. We could cross the river and go around. The water was only a foot or so deep. While we were resting, I took off my jacket and gave it to the girl. There was no point in having her mother see her emerge from the woods in nothing but a bloody bra.

  I struggled with the boy’s weight while crossing the river. The rocks were slick, so each stepped had to be placed carefully. Often I was on one leg. The kid whined a little from time to time, but less than I’d expected. I didn’t know if he was being brave or if he was out of it. I didn’t have time to worry about his condition at that point. From the falls there was only a half-mile downhill trip to finish.

  The trail cleared, and the walking was easy, but I was losing my grip. My legs were giving out as well. I sucked it up and marched onward, gritting my teeth against the pain.

  “Stay with me kid,” I said. “We’re almost there.”

  He groaned softly to let me know he was still alive. Red trotted out ahead of us. Right after he disappeared around a bend, he barked a few times and came back towards us. It wasn’t a warning. It was more of a happy bark. The deputy and several other people came around the bend with a stretcher.

  The girl’s mother ran towards us, crying with joy. The two of them stood on the trail hugging and crying. The deputy came and helped me get the boy on the stretcher. As soon as I was relieved from my duties, I sank to the ground. I didn’t think I could walk another step. Then Brody appeared on the trail. Red ran to her to get his ears scratched. I could only sit and watch. Everyone else walked with the stretcher the rest of the way to the church parking lot. Brody, Red, and I were left alone. She sat down on the ground next to me. Red laid beside me and put his head in my lap. If we were back at the cabin in front of a fire, all would have been well.

  “You going to make it, Mountain Man?” she asked.

  “If you’ll give me a hand,” I said.

  She stood up and reached her hand towards mine. I grabbed it, and she hauled me to my feet. Red hopped up with his tail wagging.

  “A bear attack, huh?” she said. “Now that it’s spring, you may want to reconsider your hiking plans.”

  “And my tracking jobs,” I said. “Red was fearless, but I don’t want to get him hurt out here.”

  “Wait, what?” she asked. “You saw the bear too?”

  “Came right at us,” I said. “Didn’t run when I fired into the air. Wasn’t afraid of Red either.”

  “Any of that blood yours?”

  “It’s all boy blood,” I said. “I’m unscathed.”

  “So how did you get away from the bear?”

  “I challenged him,” I said. “I raised up and yelled at him while Red harassed him.”

  “That’s ballsy,” she said. “What if it decided to fight?”

  “I would have shot it,” I said. “Forty caliber bullets would have hurt him, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m glad I missed your first run-in with a bear.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I was terrified. Red was the only one who wasn’t afraid.”

  “Let’s get both of you heroes home,” she said. “Can you make it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  The ambulance was gone before we arrived. The girl and her mother had followed it to the hospital. The deputy and a few other officers were standing around.

  “Helluva job today, Breeze,” the deputy said. “All’s well that
ends well.”

  “I’d give my dog all the credit,” I said. “But he didn’t carry the kid.”

  “Paramedics said the boy will be okay,” he said. “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Brody is the best nurse I know.”

  “I just want you to know that we called you on the recommendation of the state police,” he said. “We’ve got a drug dog, but no hounds like yours. They spoke very highly of you.”

  “Let the Sheriff know,” I said. “He’s not a fan.”

  “This will probably change his mind,” he said. “You’re making a name for yourself around here.”

  “Just trying to help.”

  “You’ve got our gratitude.”

  With that, it was over. Brody drove me home and put me on the couch. She brought me a cold beer and a shot of whiskey. She filled Red’s food bowl and gave him a special treat. When he was done with his food, he carried the big soup bone to the couch and laid it at my feet. I didn’t have the heart to correct him; neither did Brody.

  Sixteen

  The various police agencies that I’d forged a relationship with let me rest for the next few months. No special cases that required my unique talents presented themselves. The town of Banner Elk got a new Chief of Police. He was not hired from within. The previous chief’s cronies were weeded out in short order and integrity was returned to the force.

  The ski resorts on Sugar and Beech Mountains enjoyed heavy snowfall all winter and lots of customers. The businesses in Banner Elk had a busy and prosperous season. The Appalachian State Mountaineers won their conference championship. Times were good in the High Country. Spring brought new greenery to the landscape which seemed to perk up everyone’s spirits even further. We’d survived our first winter in the mountains.

  We’d burned through all of our wood. We spent up to a week without leaving the cabin when the snow was deep. We never lost power again, but we’d need to replenish our emergency stores before winter rolled around again. We decided that our change of life had so far been a success.

  “For Florida folks, I think we did okay,” I told Brody. “We didn’t shrivel up and die.”

  “Holed up in a cabin for days on end isn’t that different from staying holed up on a boat,” she said. “But I did have a few bouts with cabin fever.”

  “Me too,” I admitted. “But I wasn’t ready to go out and play in the snow. Maybe next year, after our blood thickens.”

  “You want to try skiing?”

  ‘I’ve never done it,” I said. “Maybe tubing or ATV trips.”

  “We should go whitewater rafting this summer,” she said.

  “I want to do some more fly fishing.”

  “And more waterfalls.”

  “Let’s find some that allow dogs,” I suggested. “Ol’ Red could use some new scenery.”

  “Me too,” she said. “These walls are becoming too familiar.”

  “The High Country is our oyster,” I said, coining a new phrase. “We can do whatever we want.”

  “Whatever we want,” she repeated. “Freedom.”

  “The essence of life,” I said.

  “I thought booze was the essence of life,” she said.

  “Booze is the duct tape of life,” I countered.

  I’d managed to escape getting roped into skiing during our first winter. I didn’t want to do it. I’ll admit, I didn’t want to break a leg or otherwise get hurt doing something that I didn’t consider to be fun. Meanwhile, we lived in ski central. The town of Banner Elk would dry up and die without the ski resorts. I put off thinking about the day that Brody would force me to strap on skis. She had wanted to go ice skating, but we somehow never got around to it, which was also fine by me.

  If we went up on Beech Mountain, the Beech Mountain Brewery was where I’d be. I could sit and drink a few brews while everybody else braved the cold. Snow bunnies didn’t quite compare to bikini babes in Florida, but slopeside lodges were cool places to hang out. Other than my almost daily hikes, I didn’t get out that much. The cabin was such a cozy and comforting place to be, especially with Brody and Red there. I only left when I had to, like going to the dump.

  We didn’t have trash pick-up in the mountains. Each county had their own “Convenience Centers” where you could get rid of your trash. The good dump was in Avery County. Folks would leave usable goods outside the trash compactors for others to pick up free of charge. Some days on our dump runs Brody would bring home more than we got rid of. We had lamps and assorted knickknacks all over the place, courtesy of the dump. The dump in Watauga County was a series of dumpsters on a blacktop surface. It was boring and never yielded any treasures.

  We’d picked up on the rhythm of things in the High Country. Each dump was open on certain days. The best time to go to the grocery store was during church on Sundays. We avoided Boone like the plague when there was a home game at App State. The liquor truck came to our local ABC store on Mondays. My favorite whiskey was often sold out, so we timed our booze runs accordingly.

  We figured out the menus at the restaurants in town. Stonewalls had excellent prime rib. The Lodge at Banner Elk Café made good pizza. Decent gumbo could be found at The Bayou, but our favorite became Bodegas at the base of Beech Mountain. They made these little tacos that were too tasty to resist. No one knew our names as we moved anonymously about our business. I liked that, a lot, but Brody longed to have a few friends. She always made an effort to chat up the waitresses or store clerks. I was already headed to the car. I was turning into a mountain hermit, not that different than my dead friend, Pop.

  If it wasn’t for Brody, I could have ended up living in a cave. My boat had been my escape before I met her. Interacting with society had only brought drama and more trouble than I cared to deal with. Here in the mountains, we had the best of both worlds. I could stay on the outside, but still get everything we needed to survive. We had a lovely home, a nice car, and money in the bank. I was very satisfied, but still, something inside me sought more.

  I needed to have a mission from time to time to occupy my mind. I needed a little adventure that taxed me more than hiking to waterfalls. The episodes that had happened on our mountain and the jobs that law enforcement hired me to do kept my juices flowing and gave me a purpose in life. As spring inched towards summer, I secretly hoped for another assignment.

  Out of the blue one day, a Watauga County Sheriff’s car came down the drive. My pulse picked up at the sight of it. The deputy that had tried to assist me at Crab Orchard Falls got out, along with the girl and her mother. The girl brought me the coat that I’d given her to cover herself before she reunited with her mother.

  “I needed to thank you properly,” she said. “You were a true gentleman, and you’ll always be my superhero.”

  “Me too,” said the mom. “I can’t fully express my thanks for what you did that day.”

  “Is your dog here?” asked the girl. “I brought him a treat.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “I’ll get him.”

  I let Red out the door, and he ran with his tail wagging to the girl. She knelt down to give him a hug, which he accepted with grace. He tried to shove his nose in her purse before she pulled out a healthy looking bone and gave it to him. He took it in his mouth then reached his paw towards her hand. She shook it and thanked him yet again. He turned and carried the bone back to the door.

  “How’s your boyfriend doing?” I asked.

  “He is doing well,” she said. “Thanks for asking. You realize that he put himself between me and that bear, right?”

  “I figured as much,” I said. “That took a lot of guts. He didn’t stand a chance.”

  “No, but it kept me safe,” she said. “He’s a hero too.”

  “No doubt about it,” I said. “He’ll be a fine man someday.”

  “Sorry we couldn’t get all the blood out of your jacket,” she said. “We tried and tried.”

  “It will remind me of you and your boyfriend,” I said
. “I’m honored that you brought it back to me.”

  Things got awkward after that. The girl eyed me a little too lovingly. She was a cute young thing. I hadn’t noticed back at the falls. Her mom wasn’t half-bad either. I needed to extricate myself.

  “I’ve got to let Red get to his bone,” I said. “I appreciate your visit.”

  “Thanks again, mister,” the girl said.

  “Breeze,” I said. “The name’s Breeze.”

  I was glad when they left. The deputy tipped his hat to me before getting in the car to drive them home. Brody was waiting at the door with Red.

  “The first monthly meeting of the Breeze Fan Club,” she said. “I could see you getting antsy.”

  “I didn’t think I’d see the girl again,” I said. “Glad she’s okay. The boy too.”

  “You’ve made a difference in their lives,” she said. “No need to shy away from it.”

  “The cowboy is supposed to ride off into the sunset,” I said.

  “You may be a lot of things,” she said. “But a cowboy ain’t one of them.”

  “Once again Brody summarizes the situation with a brilliant analysis.”

  “You’re not the only one with skills,” she said.

  Spring is a time for new things, so I dusted off the fly rod I’d bought for Pop and tried to put it to good use. The state had stocked the Watauga River down in Valle Crucis with trout, and I wanted to catch a few, but I found the river banks lined with fishermen. That wasn’t my scene, so I drove on looking for a quieter piece of the river. It looked as if every man that owned a fishing rod had already staked out their turf. Finally, I found a small pull-off high above the water and parked just barely off the road. The climb down was a steep one, made more difficult while carrying a fly rod.