The First Cut (10 page)

Joyce was sitting at the picnic table, cradling the coffee mug between her two hands, rolling it back and forth to transfer its heat to her fingers.

"We should probably pack up," he said, moving about to put things in the box he'd brought. "The earlier we hit the water, the earlier we'll be done."

Joyce looked at him, her eyes squinting under her furrowed brow.

"I thought this was supposed to be a leisurely trip," she said. "A calm float and all that."

"It is. I just don't want to dally. Other people will be putting in soon, and if we beat them to it we'll have the river to ourselves."

This seemed to make some sense to Joyce, who got up and began gathering things around the site. Paul went to the tent, pulled out the sleeping bags and rolled them up on the table. He called to the boys to come pack up their things and carry the bags to the car. They did, and soon everything was piled at the back of Joyce's Honda. They put the sleeping bags in her trunk; he then opened the rear door on his car to put away a box of food.

"Hey, there's the fishing poles!" said Charlie, elbowing his brother in the ribs.

They'd likely beat their neighbors onto the river, but trying to help the boys fish for the first time would slow them down too much.

"We'll fish when we get to the end, OK? There will be plenty of time between when we get to the end and when the rental company picks us up to bring us back here. I need you guys to be alert in the boat today."

"Paul, you promised them. That's why we're here," Joyce said.

"Yeah, Dad. You said we'd be like Huckleberry Finn," Eric said.

"Well, I thought it over and I decided that we'll do it later, OK? Grab the poles and put them with the other things in the canoes and let's get ’em on the water!" He tried to fill his voice with excitement, as much to convince himself that this was a good idea as to divert the boys' attention from his broken promise.

***

Joyce and Charlie were in the lead canoe; Paul and Eric followed. He'd stuck the boys in the front of each canoe so he and Joyce could steer from the back. That meant the boys spent most of the time looking about or turned around to talk, but on a river this tame you didn't need much in the way of navigation anyway. Joyce brought along so many life preservers and blankets that you couldn't see the floor of either boat.
This stretch of the river, from Bluffton to Decorah, is about 15 miles and can be floated in five or six hours. The portion from Kendalville to Bluffton, which is usually the first day of a two-day trip, is supposed to be more scenic, but Paul liked this second day because of Malanaphy Springs, a waterfall along the east wall of the river. It's formed by a coldwater spring that flows from the rock high up on the cliff, joining with other runoff to form a wide, crystal-clear ribbon that cascaded down the craggy rock face of the cliff. It's an impressive sight as you come around a corner on the river. He and his crew climbed up it one year to the source, but he'd since read up on it and learned they'd trod upon some rare plant species toward the top and knew now to stay near the base.

The water was high for this time of year, so there was a little current, meaning there wasn't much to do to get down the river but float. They occasionally hit miniature rapids, short stretches where a narrowing of the way coupled with large rocks on the riverbed created a rushing, gurgling gauntlet that jostled the canoes pretty good. Having a sixty-pound boy as ballast in the front didn't help. Paul was adept at steering through these, and his instructions to Joyce seemed to guide her through with little trouble. A paddle, dipped into the water at a slight angle at the rear of the canoe acted as a powerful rudder with which to steer the boat.

The falls appear about three hours into a five-hour trip, and made for a good stopping point just more than halfway to Decorah. The boys got a big kick out of some of those small rapids, and Paul knew they'd really flip for the waterfall.

As they came upon it, Paul was silent, wanting them to notice it for themselves. Charlie, up front with Joyce, saw it first.

"Hey, look at that!" he said, pointing ahead of him. "Is that a waterfall?"

Paul stroked quickly with his paddle to draw his canoe even with theirs.

"Yes, that's Malanaphy Springs. My friends and I stopped here when we canoed this stretch of river," he said.
"Can we stop, Dad?" said Eric.

"Of course. That's the plan."

They pulled the canoes up onto the bank just downstream from the falls. Paul had packed bread, peanut butter and jelly, cans of tuna and granola bars for lunch, and Joyce made sandwiches for all of them while Paul played with the boys near the frigid water coming off the falls. Some other canoes passed while they were stopped, the paddlers waving or shouting a greeting across the water.

The boys had wolfed down their sandwiches and were now out at the water’s edge, splashing each other with paddles they’d pulled out of one of the boats. The paddles were longer than the boys were tall, and they had trouble directing their swings with any accuracy, the wooden faces sliding benignly across the top of the water more of the time than not.

Something in Paul's canoe started ringing. Joyce got to it first, digging Paul's cell phone out of a waterproof bag full of supplies in the middle of the boat. She held it out to Paul with a look of disgust on her face. Paul grabbed it from her and turned it off without looking to see who it was. He then slid it back in the bag and looked at Joyce.

"Why do you have that? I thought we were supposed to leave things like that behind," Joyce said. "Oh, let me guess. It's for work, right? You're showing me how busy you've been, that you have to stay in touch."

"Busy? This whole trip is about me leaving work behind. I brought the phone in case we had a problem. What if one of the boys got hurt? It would take hours to get them somewhere for help unless we had a way to call. That's all.”

Joyce raised an eyebrow.

"Sure. I'll bet I can guess why it was on. You probably hid in the trees to call a certain special someone. I wondered why you gone so long last night to yell at those loud guys."

Paul didn’t like the direction the conversation was headed, so he turned away from Joyce and called to his sons.

“I’m going to climb up here a ways to check this out. Why don’t you put the paddles away and join me.”

The boys tossed the paddles in the closest canoe and walked slowly toward Paul.

“Dad, we don’t wanna climb, we want to fish,” said Eric. Charlie nodded.

“Well, you’re really going to miss out here, guys. I mean, this is the first waterfall you’ve ever seen, and I’m offering you the chance to climb up it. We can fish later, right?”

The boys didn’t stir, just stood staring up at their father.  Joyce walked over now, and stood behind the boys.

“Why don’t we just get going? You’ve climbed that before, and the boys don’t want to,” she said.

Paul knew this was the thing to do, of course, but also knew that he was going to climb the waterfall.

“Suit yourselves,” he said, turning to grab hold of a crag of rock within reach. “I won’t be long.”

“Paul, if you don't want to talk about this fine, but we’re not going to sit and wait for you to climb that,” Joyce said. “Why don’t I take the boys on ahead, and you can catch up when you’re done? At least one of us should take them fishing.”

She was good, Paul thought. Then again, while it seemed a strategic move in what was becoming a sort of backwoods chess match between the two, the idea of being by himself for a moment was appealing.

“OK, I’ll see you in a little while,” he said. The boys darted toward Joyce’s canoe and climbed in. Joyce looked at Paul for a moment, then, shaking her head, turned and walked down to the boat. She pushed off a bit and jumped in. Paul stood for a moment, watching the canoe move silently away from the shore and down the river. He didn’t feel much like climbing the falls now, but didn’t want to hop in his canoe and catch up right away either. He compromised, grabbing hold of the rock crag again and pulling himself up onto a small shelf just a few feet above the ground. He wouldn’t go far, remembering that the rare moss and lichen began to grow not far from where he stood. As he was looking for the next place to put his foot, someone yelled from a canoe on the river. He turned and saw two canoes, each with two men paddling idly. All four wore faded T-shirts and wrap-around mirrored sunglasses. He could see cans of beer inside insulated sleeves perched on the bow of each boat. The second canoe held the two men he'd talked with the night before from the neighboring campsite. The one in back, the friendlier of the two, was waving now. He told his buddies to steer their canoes to the shore.

Paul tensed with fear, nearly falling from his perch. The men pulled their canoes up to the bank and got out. Paul jumped back down to the ground and stood waiting to see what the men would do. The man who had waved seemed to be the leader. He came over to Paul and stuck out his hand.

"Hey, good to see you," he said. "Remember us? The loud guys?" He laughed, and Paul chuckled with him.

"Sure," Paul said. "So you guys are out canoeing, too?"

"Looks that way. By the way, I'm Carl, and these guys are Leroy, Mike and Dave."
Paul nodded. He jammed his hands into his pockets then took them out again. He decided full disclosure was the best policy.

“About last night – ” he started.

“Yea, sorry about that. Little too much to drink last night. If it’s any consolation, we’re paying for it today,” Carl said, tapping his finger lightly against his own forehead.

“Well, I know how that goes,” Paul said. “But I just wanted to, well, to clear up something. I think you had the impression last night that I own the campground, but I was just staying there with my family, right next to your campsite, actually.”

"You’re not the owner?" Carl said now. "What are you trying to pull, Paul? Were you afraid of us or something? Jeez, we're not bad guys, we were just blowing off a little steam is all, like I told you."

"I didn't tell you guys I owned the campground, you just assumed it," Paul said, a bit whiny now. "I figured it would be easier to go along with you than explain everything. I was half-asleep, you were drunk and it was 1 in the morning."

The one Carl had said was Mike stepped up toward Paul, raising his hand in a swift motion. Paul flinched, but Mike finished the move by pulling his hat off his head and wiping his brow with his forearm. He laughed.

“Yeah, you’re a real tough guy when you lie about it, huh?” he said.

“Now, hold on,” Carl said, stepping in. “We were awfully drunk last night, and I’m sure we were pretty loud, too. Let’s just call it even, OK? We’re all out here to have a good time and enjoy the day. Why don’t we get back on the river and let Paul here get back to whatever he was doing.”

The men nodded. Paul looked at his watch, and decided enough time had passed for him to get back in his own canoe and catch up with Joyce and the boys.

“Actually, I’m going to hit the river again myself. My family is just up ahead here. I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. Really, I --”

Carl waved him off.

“Forget it. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

The four men climbed back into their two canoes, pushed off, and began paddling down the river. Paul waited until they were out of sight then climbed back into his boat. He reached for a paddle to push himself off, but there wasn’t one. The boys had taken them out earlier, and put them in Joyce’s canoe by mistake. He got out and dragged the boat down the shore a few yards until he reached a point deep enough to allow it to float free while he climbed in. He leaned far out over the edge to push the boat away from shore. The canoe hung sideways for a moment before the light current caught it and swung the back end out behind the front and he started floating slowly away from the falls, alone in his boat in the middle of the water.

He decided to kick back and enjoy the trip, intent on not letting it get to him. He felt silly for having feared the men, and regretted letting Joyce use his stubbornness to get the upper hand. He'd just drift along here for a couple of hours while she dealt with the boys. He had the sweet end of this deal when you thought about it, though he did wonder if Joyce knew she had the paddles. She must not, he decided. No matter how mad she was, she would stop and wait for him, wouldn't she?

A few people passed by in canoes, none of them paying his paddle-less state any mind. He passed a couple fishing from a boat near the shore. He waved silently; they nodded in reply. Just past them, around a bend, he came upon one of the rapids. He went to the middle of the boat, sat low in the seat, and gripped the edges of the boat tightly. Without a paddle, he had only his body with which to guide the canoe. The bottom of the boat hit a rock and it spun the canoe around backward and toward a mud bank. The boat struck flat, but Paul kept the boat erect by shifting his weight to counter the tilt of the canoe. It soon righted itself and continued the lazy float downstream, dirt dislodged from the bank now scattered along the boat's floor. That was kind of fun, he thought.

He leaned back, shielding his eyes from the sun with a forearm across his head. He must have dozed for a while, because he began to dream about the falls, the men and Joyce talking. He realized he actually was hearing voices, and sat up. He hoped they had stopped somewhere for a break. Of course, he now had to contend with the story the men surely were telling Joyce about the night before, knowing Joyce would add it to the list of his supposed transgressions. No matter. He would suck it up, would rejoin them and at least try to end the weekend right. Making things right back at home was something else all together. Joyce was convinced he'd been unfaithful, seemed determined to force him to admit it whether it was true or not. His marriage was more troubled than he had imagined, more trouble than a camping trip could wash away.

As he came around a corner, really a sharp bend in the river, he saw them, Joyce and two of the men, Leroy and Dave, he thought, standing on a sandbar for a mid-afternoon snack of granola and bottled water. Beyond them, Carl and Mike stood with Eric and Charlie on large rocks a few feet off the bar, showing the boys how to operate the casting mechanism on their fishing poles. The men were faced away from the river, but Joyce saw Paul and began pointing. Carl and Mike turned, then the others. Joyce started waving her arms, and Paul waved back. Her look was familiar; even from here he could tell she was mad; I'm not waving
at
you, she seemed to be saying. He looked up at the river and saw what she was signaling -- he was headed for another quick bend that caused the river to rush rapids-like over some rocks and the trunks of downed trees toward the bank. A large tree, recently felled as the soil around its roots gave way, hung almost perpendicular to the water. An unsteered canoe would follow the rushing river toward the bank, bounce off and carom into the branches of the tree.