Twisted Trails, Chapter 9
Vince cracked open a warm Coke. He swallowed the sweet fizz and let out a loud belch. His long hair was wet with sweat and he flipped it up out of his eyes.When he finished the soda, he smashed the can. Leaning back to throw the can into the trees, he paused and then lowered his arm. Quickly he reached down into the backpack and pulled out the gun.
An awkward grin spread across his face. Placing the smashed can in his left hand and gripping the gun with his right, he bent his knees and then tossed the can as high in the air as he could. Then he hurriedly took aim with the revolver. BANG! BANG! He fired into thin air and the can fell with a thud twenty feet in front of him.
“Sonofa!” Vince cursed. Then he aimed at the can on the ground. BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG. Click. A small cloud of dust settled around the untouched Coke can.
You are the most pathetic waste of oxygen. It’s always been like this. Vince gets excited and thinks he’s finally going to do something. Then wiff! Strike out. Zero.
Vince pressed the top of the pistol to his forehead. The smell of gunpowder burned his nostrils. He took a deep breath.
~~~~~~~
Stephen wiped his mouth on a paper napkin and tossed the napkin into the campfire. He leaned over and kissed Samantha on the cheek.
“I’ll go see where Ethan is and be right back,” he said as he stood up from the picnic table.
“OK. Hurry,” Samantha said.
“Can I come with you?” Sarah asked.
Before Stephen could answer, Samantha interjected, “No, sweetie, I need your help here at camp. Daddy will be right back.”
Stephen knew better than to disagree with his wife right now. She was worried about Ethan and she didn’t want Sarah—or anyone else—slowing down anything right now.
“Honey, he’s fine. Don’t worry.”
“OK. Go find him, then.”
Stephen decided to go around the lake the opposite direction than he had gone before. With a quick pace, he headed south down the nearest trail towards the restrooms and parking lot. The edge of the lake was fairly busy now.
Fisherman were spread out all around the lake. Several fisherman glanced up as Stephen hurried by. Each one would smile and nod and Stephen would smile and nod back.
He ducked into the restrooms. No Ethan. Glancing through the parking lot, Stephen checked between several SUV’s. As Stephen rounded the far side of the lake, his concern began to grow. He began walking faster.
By the time he reached the north end of the lake, his heart was pounding. The sky was growing dark and the wind was beginning to blow. Stephen was on the verge of breaking into a full run.
Where could he be? This lake isn’t that big. It makes no sense. And by now I’m sure he’s hungry. I can’t believe he didn’t come back to camp on his own.
Stephen came upon a group of fishermen. He paused and carefully glanced at each of them. Then he hurried on.
As he rounded the bend on the north end and he was within shouting distance of camp, it hit him.
He’s gone off to Peterson Lake on his own. That’s it! He was mad at me, he was upset at Sam last night. When I didn’t get up, he decided to go there.
In a swirl of emotions, Stephen was relieved, angry, anxious, and exhausted all at once. As he stepped off the boardwalk onto the trail leading into the campground, the rain began to fall. He hurried up the little slope and past the other campers who were quickly securing gear and getting into their tents.
He looked up ahead and saw Samantha hurrying Sarah into the tent. Brandon was trying his best to heft the cooking gear into the back of the truck.
“Brandon, let me give you a hand with that,” Stephen called out at Brandon was about to drop an armful of cooking utensils into the mud.
As soon as Samantha heard his voice, she spun around. Her eyes quickly glanced around and then locked onto Stephen’s eyes. “Where is Ethan?” she demanded.
“I checked everywhere,” Stephen said trying to sound somewhat calm as he took the utensils from Brandon.
Samantha’s face went pale. “Stephen!” Her hands covered her mouth.
“Sam, we need to stay calm. I think I know where he is.” Stephen loaded the utensils in the back of the truck.
In an instant, Samantha had a hold of his arm. “Where could he be?”
A clap of thunder accompanied a strong gust of wind. The rain came heavier. Stephen caught Brandon by the shoulder. “Go get in the tent and get out of the rain.” Brandon nodded and headed to the tent. “Take off your boots before you get in the tent.” Brandon nodded again and kept walking.
Stephen straightened up and looked Samantha in the eye. “I think he’s hiked up to Peterson Lake on his own.”
“On his own!” Samantha was incredulous at first. Then quickly her mind followed the same path as her husband’s had. The heated discussion the night before. Steve oversleeping. And a twelve year old who was like a hawk testing his wings on the edge of the nest before his first leap into the freedom of the open sky.
“What do we do?” Samantha asked.
“It’s getting cold fast. I think I’ll get my coat on and grab Ethan’s coat. I’ll head up the trail toward Peterson Lake. I want you to jump in the truck and head toward Kamas. Remember the little Ranger station where we bought the parking pass?” Sam nodded. “Go let the Ranger know what the situation is. They might have a four-wheeler or something that could get them up the trail faster.”
“I’m scared, Steve,” Samantha said.
“I know, Sam. I know.” Stephen put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her tight into his chest. “But Sam, look out there at the lake.”
Samantha wiped the rain and tears out of her eyes. She could see several fishermen with their rain slickers pulled up over their heads still fishing from the shore of the lake.
Steve pointed at the fishermen. “Ethan is probably doing exactly what they’re doing and thinking this is the most fun he’s ever had. He’s probably still casting out and reeling in thinking he’s a real man.”
“Steve, are you sure he’s not out there and you missed him?”
“I didn’t miss him. I checked the restroom, the parking lot. There aren’t that many places he could be.”
Sam nodded. Then she lowered her eyes and glanced around at the camp chairs and other gear still scattered around the camp site. She picked up one of the chairs and started folding it up.
“Sam, don’t worry about this stuff. It’ll be fine. Just load up the kids and head down to the Ranger station.”
Samantha threw her arms around Stephen’s neck. She kissed his cheek and whispered, “We have to find him, Steve.”
“I’ll find him, Sam. I promise.” Stephen looked into her eyes and then kissed her.
Turning quickly, he opened the tent and stepped inside. He changed into a dry shirt and slipped his coat on. Then he dug through Ethan’s bag and found his coat. When he stepped out of the tent, Samantha had the kids loaded in the truck and was ready to pull out. She rolled down the window. “I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too.”
The tail lights of the truck were rounding the bend out of the camp area onto the main road. Stephen took a quick look around the campsite. There was nothing to worry about here. But then he paused. OK, what’s gonna happen if Ethan comes back here while we’re all gone? he thought.
Wanting to already be on the trail—ready to be searching, he fidgeted and turned around. His mind raced. There’s nothing in the tent to write a note with.
Right then he heard the sound of a tent zipper. He spun to see a middle-aged man in the next campsite making a mad dash from his tent to his vehicle. Stephen immediately broke into a run. The man already had the door shut and was busily rummaging through a duffle bag in the back seat of his car. Stephen skidded to a stop in the mud and quickly rapped on the window.
Inside the car, the surprised man jumped and let out a little yelp. He looked through the window and squinted to try to recognize who was outside his car. Confused, he pulled the door handle.
“Hi,” Stephen began immediately. “My family and I are in the next campsite over.”
The man nodded slowly.
“My twelve-year-old son went out for some early fishing and now we can’t find him.”
Instantly, the man’s face changed from confusion to concern. “Oh, no.”
“We think he probably decided to hike up to Peterson Lake on his own.”
“How can we help?”
“My wife and the other kids are headed down to the ranger station to let them know what’s going on. I’m heading up the trail to Peterson Lake. My worry is that he might come back here and we’ll all be gone.”
“So you want us to keep an eye out for him?”
“Yeah, and let him know to stay put ‘til we get back.”
“We’ll do it,” the man replied as he stood up out of the car to join Stephen in the rain. “What’s your boy’s name?”
“Ethan. Ethan Jacobs.”
“OK, we’ll watch for him.”
“Thank you so much.” Stephen shook his hand and then began jogging down the muddy lane toward the trail head.
Stephen Jacobs was a committed runner. At least four mornings every week, he would get up before work and run through the quiet streets of their suburban neighborhood. With three energetic kids at home, there was rarely much peace and quiet. Running gave his mind time to relax and get ready for the day.
Occasionally a neighbor or friend would want to start a running partnership. Though he was always polite, each time Stephen found a way to maintain his solitude. It was more than exercise. It was his sanity.
It had been less than fifteen minutes when Stephen had to stop. The anxiety and adrenaline combined with the heavy boots, rain-soaked jeans, and the uphill trail to cause his heart to feel as if it were about to pound out of his chest.
What is going on with me? Stephen thought. He took a couple of deep breaths, his lungs burned. For a moment, he felt dizzy and his legs felt like lead. He leaned over and put both hands on his knees. OK, OK. Steve, settle yourself down. You’ve got to adjust your pace. This isn’t like running on the street.
A couple more deep breaths and he started feeling better. He began walking, then after a few minutes broke into a jog again. This time it was more plodding, methodical. But he settled into the heavy rhythm and his mind began to clear.
How long was I asleep after Ethan left? Maybe an hour. Could have been an hour and a half. Then once around the lake with Brandon. Stopping to catch a fish. Eating breakfast. Once more around the lake the other way.
Stephen started doing the math. Peterson Lake was a little more than five miles up the trail. It had definitely been long enough for Ethan to get to the lake before the bad weather set in.
But what would Ethan do in a downpour? Would he stay put? Would he look for shelter? Or would he be heading down the trail right now?
~~~~~~~~
Vince pressed himself tightly up against the trunk of a large pine. The rain was coming down so heavily, it was even hard to see. The thick branches of the tree provided some relief. He looked down at his sleeping bag. The rain had almost completely soaked the outside of the whole bag. Next he pulled the tent from the backpack. It had stayed somewhat dry.
Nice going, stupid. How does freezing to death sound? Wet, muddy, slopping around like a brainless pig. You couldn’t even find your car again if you wanted to.
Vince ran a hand through his soaked hair. Slowly he slumped down. He pulled his bag and pack in tight under the tree to keep them out of the rain as best he could.
A sudden gust of wind splattered Vince’s face with a blast of rain. “What the hell!” he shouted as he spun his head away from the wind,
Raising his sleeve, he wiped the rain out of his eyes. He scooted to the side trying in vain to find a more sheltered spot.
The wind continued in long breaths, bending through the trees. Some of the gusts seemed to last so long Vince felt as if he could hardly breath. With each wave of growing intensity, it felt like punishment. Like all of nature was pressing in.
Every muscle in Vince’s body was tense. His hands began to shake. He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his forehead down on his knees. His breathing was shallow and rapid.
It didn’t take long until he felt completely exhausted. He closed his eyes. The rain pounded the ground, splattering, plinking, splashing.
The memory formed slowly.
“Get in the tent and wait out the storm!”
Vince couldn’t remember the name of the scout leader. Couldn’t even remember what he looked like. But he could hear his voice.
“Don’t get all muddy, just get in the tent and stay there!”
Inside the tent smelled like wet hair … and wet socks.
Vince fidgeted uncomfortably, sitting on his sleeping bag. He glanced around at the other three boys. They were laughing.
Jimmy Calahan had straight teeth, blonde hair, and was a gifted athlete. Not only was he the only boy who owned a portable CD player, he was the only one who would have dared bring it to scout camp. The other boys followed his lead in almost everything.
Patrick Mc–something-or-other was the clown. Freckles and a smile too big for his face. He laughed at everything. His pack was where you could find whoopy cushions, silly string, and an abundant supply of candy.
The other boy was Danny. He was quieter than the others. The one who didn’t mind doing the chores around camp.
“Gosh, I’m totally soaked,” Jimmy yelled dramatically.
He pulled his shirt up over his head.
Patrick started giggling and pointing at Jimmy.
“What are you laughing at, Red?” Jimmy asked as he threw his wet shirt in Patrick’s face.
“Jimmy’s sprouted hair in his pits!” Patrick blurted out and exploded in laughter.
Vince squirmed.
Jimmy jumped on top of Patrick and started to hit his shoulder playfully.
Vince turned his back to the others and unzipped his duffle bag. He reached under his extra shirts in the farthest corner of the bag. He felt the leather case. It was his dad’s prized possession, a hunting knife. The handle was pure ivory, carved in spectacular detail. The curved blade was over six inches long, the steel so polished it looked like chrome.
Vince glanced nervously over his shoulder. The other three boys were still wrestling and pretending to fight.
“Let’s take a look at Patrick’s armpits,” Jimmy said as he tried to pull Patrick’s shirt up over his head. Danny jumped in, yanking on Patrick’s wrists.
“I swear, I got no hair under there!” giggled Patrick.
“I’m gonna have to see for myself.”
Jimmy sat straddling Patrick’s stomach, his t-shirt stretched up over his face. Jimmy grabbed a hold with both hands and yanked to get the shirt passed Patrick’s elbows. Right at that moment, Patrick arched his back and sent Jimmy tumbling on top of Danny.
“Aaaaaaaaaagh!” screamed Jimmy. “You nailed me in the nards!”
Patrick again burst into laughter. Danny started laughing too. Jimmy lay writhing in pain, with both hands between his legs.
“Jerk,” Jimmy groaned.
“Hey, you were the one gettin’ all over me,” Patrick shot back.
“Why does it have to hurt so gosh-dang much?” Jimmy laughed. Patrick and Danny roared with laughter. Patrick started digging in his bag for candy.
Suddenly, the giggling stopped. Jimmy looked at his friends, their faces completely blank. Turning his head, he saw Vince standing over him. In Vince’s hand was a six-inch blade, unsheathed.
“Whatcha doin’, Vince?” Jimmy asked as he sat up quickly.
Vince stared at the blade and turned it over in his hand.
“Vince,” Jimmy half-shouted, “what’s the knife for?”
After a long pause, Vince answered quietly, “It’s my dad’s.”
“Are you going hunting?” Patrick joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“No … I thought you guys might want to see it.”
Jimmy looked at Patrick and then back at Vince. No one said anything for one long minute.
“The handle is real ivory.” Vince slid the knife back in it’s sheath.
Danny nodded. “It’s a nice knife, Vince. Real nice.”
“Yeah,” Vince said as he looked up at the others for the first time. He caught Danny’s eye, then looked right back at the knife. In a flash, he grabbed the handle again and pulled the knife half out of the sheath. Jimmy jumped backwards and Vince froze.
Then slowly, Vince slid the knife all the way back in the sheath. “Yeah, it’s cool.”
~~~~~~~~~
“Mommy, are we going to find Ethan?” Sarah asked from the back seat.
“Yes, yes. He’s gonna be fine,” Samantha answered with her voice cracking.
The windshield wipers beat furiously and Samantha’s knuckles were completely white as she guided the truck around a tight bend.
“No, Mom. I mean are we going to where Ethan is.”
“No, sweetheart,” Samantha replied. “We’re going to find the ranger so he can help us find Ethan.”
Sarah stared at her mom’s reflection in the rearview mirror for several seconds. Then she shook her head and said, “I think we should go look for Ethan.”
Samantha’s chin quivered and she took a deep breath. “Ethan is going to be fine. Daddy promised that we will find him.”
The truck splashed through a deep pot hole and sped down the canyon toward the ranger station.