61 Faith
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The rain had been falling hard off and on, mostly on, for the better part of a day and a half, with the off being more of a heavy drizzle that took longer but got to the same soggy end for anyone lingering outside. George had heard from Grace that the next leg of their march to nowhere would be up along a stream running deep between high rock walls. Grace was being nice about it. George knew full well that her delaying their original itinerary had ensured that they were too late to go to what she was told by one of the girls, rather pointedly, the best waterfalls ever. George judged her disappointed at losing an opportunity to strut her stuff for the guys. Then the bad weather threatened and first Grace and then Freddie came down on the caution side of staying away from that other basin. She did not want to go up there and get caught in some serious flooding with no way to escape. Most of the others thought it was overkill. George had wondered what the attraction was up that way if it was so dangerous and one of the guys also pointed out on the map several spectacular water falls with pools. The map showed the promised land was a few miles and well over a dozen stream crossings up that canyon. She thought he just wanted to be there when the girl was strutting. But now with more than a couple of days lost it looked like they would have to cut that leg entirely, even if the weather got much better. Anyway, for now, they were all holed up resting safely waiting for the rain to stop and the danger of major flash floods to pass. George found the rain a God-send and not just because it brought about a halt to the daily forced marches. After days of trekking mindlessly up and over one mountain and then up and over another mountain with the trees, rocks, trails, insects, views interchangeable as far as she could tell, her feet were sore, and she had had enough. She couldn't heal reaper fast and couldn't ghost her way to comfort because she was in such close quarters with the living and something, or someone was making sure she fit right in with all these yet to be harvested souls. That meant she was being forced to do this the old fashioned way, suffer just like one of the living. One insight this trip had bestowed upon her was the wisdom for the undead to stay on the fringes well apart from the living and their painful slog through life.
Anyway, it was mid-morning. Their group was safe on some high ground just off the main trail and well above the stream, which the last time she looked down there appeared more like an angry rapids than a stream, certainly far from a babbling brook. George and Grace stayed mostly in their tiny tent as did the others. Occasionally, when the rain slowed, or more rarely stopped, one or more of the troupe would stumble out among the trees behind some wet bushes to take care of business and walk around the camp site to stretch a bit before crawling back into their little warm dry pockets within the tents. When there was a sustained pause in the rain they all would exit, scrounge some food to share, and once the rain started up again they retreated to the tents. Right now Grace was reading the book George had brought and finished and George was reading a mystery of Grace's. Not her usual but it was better than watching the tent walls drain water. And then, of course, it had to happen, she was cast out of this Eden, a reap key came.
"Shit."
Grace looked up from her paperback. "What's wrong?"
"I've got to go."
Grace reached for the day pack.
"No. Not that. I've got a reap."
Her eyebrows went up. "I thought you weren't getting those on this trip. None so far."
"Yeah, This trip has been my fucking dream vacation. But I got one soon."
"One of us?"
"No. No. It's OK. No one here. It's not too far. Well it wouldn't be too far…"
"You still can't ghost. Can you?"
"No. Still can't. Bummer."
Grace sat up to give George some room. She pulled on her socks and boots and got her rain slicker ready for an exit. Her feet felt much better and her blisters had healed…mostly. Grace shifted head down to give her access to the tent front. George unzipped it and poked her head out. No one was out. It was raining, of course. Not heavy, but it didn't have to be. "OK. Grace, it's not far. Just over that way." She pointed towards the soul. She stopped her exit routine, pulled back inside, and zipped the tent back up. She would have to do this the hard way - walking. "I can't ghost so let me see that map."
Grace pulled it out and spread it on the sleeping bags. George focused in on the juncture between this basin and the next with Grace watching closely. It had to be the next one over. To get to this reap George would have to walk farther down the trail about a quarter mile and at a juncture where this stream and another merged she had to take the trail up that other stream - the one that they hadn't been up yet, the one they had planned to explore to see those waterfalls, and probably wouldn't given this rain. The reap didn't feel far away, but it was up that other basin. Now the reason they hadn't gone up that trail took on new meaning. She couldn't die but she did not want to get caught in some flood and bounced down through rocky canyon walls. She wasn't due for her resurrection death for a few days. Well, she was going to see what that trail looked like, or at least the first part anyway. George wouldn't shed any tears. This rest had given her feet time to heal so it worked out good for her. She pointed to a place on the map about half a mile up that other trail running along a stream perhaps fifty yards off that trail. "Here. I go here. Someone will die soon." She saw Grace's face. "No. You know nothing of this. I should be back before I'm missed and that will be that."
"Wait. You mean someone is going to die…and what? We just hike on…and leave their body?"
George paused. Seemed obvious to her. "Yes. I'm glad you understand. I work in the soul collecting department. Someone else worries about body collecting…probably that'll be handled by the great outdoors, you know, small animals, insects, whatever. Don't worry. It will get taken care of…without any input from either of us."
Grace frowned. George said, "Look, Grace. The important part is the soul…that it gets taken care of…and I will make sure it gets to where it needs to go. The body…don't worry about it. Dust to dust, you know…whatever."
George crawled over the sleeping bags to the tent front and unzipped again. She lifted herself carefully through the opening. She really did not want to rip this now…keeping it waterproof was high on her list of priorities. She put on her rain gear and hood and then rezipped it. She looked around. As if on cue the rain started falling harder and faster. No one was nearby nor were they likely to come out just now, not with a pounding rain. She didn't take anything. The reap was going down in a little over an hour so she had to get moving.
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Eric Peterson's pants and the inside of his boots were soaked. The boots themselves were waterproof but that did not stop water from going in from the top when he had to wade the stream, which he had already done too many times this morning. He prayed for the rain to let up, but he knew God didn't work that way. It was more a personal wish on his part. He knew the good Lord had His own purposes and Eric would have to bend around His plans and He would not likely stop this rain just for him. Still it would be nice. His raincoat was waterproof, but his pants were not. That was something to take care of on his next outing. This first week had gone well. If he could get more time off from work he would be making faster progress, but he had to make do with what time he could get. He liked being out here alone. No mother telling him what to do. No boss at work either. Someday he would come out here and just not go back. Of course he wasn't ready but he was getting better at learning to live off the land, or more accurately on the land. He still brought all his food with him - freeze dried mostly. He didn't have a gun. Had never killed anything. He had no idea which plants were edible, but…you couldn't learn everything overnight. Darn, if he had stayed back upstream he would be dry. No one came up there nor would they in this rain. His pants and boots were soaked and each step he could hear and feel the squish squish squish. The trail was slippery too and he had mud and water on his boots. He had already fallen once trusting too much weight on a wet rock. It wouldn't be good at all to break something. He believed that God would take care of him. But better not to test God. Everybody knew that God expected faith and no testing.
He needed to set up camp somewhere. He should find someplace safe and put his tent up and wait out the rain. He had spent most of this last week upstream lounging around pools within a stone's throw of some spectacular waterfalls. Once the rains had started and waters surging unpredictably things got a bit dicey. One night a sudden flood forced him to exit his tent, pick it up and shove everything on top of a large rock while he waited for things to recede. That was close, too close. He had decided to move down stream and last night had found a decent campsite well above the flowing water. He had gotten soaked getting down to that campsite crossing the stream more than a dozen times. The stream's course was dictated by the rock walls containing its flow and every time it bent against some sheer rock wall the trail had to cross over. This morning he thought maybe, despite the rain, to get out of this basin entirely. The rain seemed to be getting worse and well, now it seemed he should have stayed where he was. He was wet and getting wetter and the rains were getting heavier, and darn. He noticed a little used trail branching off towards the stream itself. He stopped and considered. On the one hand going down towards the stream level would not seem to be a good idea, but they were not far from where this stream basin merged with another. He was already pretty close to much lower and broader topography. He could see across the stream, the ground over there spreading out. Looking around over there all he could see were bushes close by and trees, yes, there were a lot of trees across the stream and beyond them lower rock walls well back from the stream. Should be safe. This side trail looked to drop down to the stream at a sharp bend and then to the left it looked open with the rock walls, yes he could see, well back away from the stream. There was plenty of room to the left for many trees. And the ground would be higher over there, safer from any more flooding. Very likely this trail would drop down and cross over and on the other side would be a very secluded higher area to pitch his tent. He could wait out this rain and get dry. He really wanted to get dry. Yes. Made sense. He started down pushing through some ferns and bushes sending a renewed cascade of water onto his coat and pants. He was soaked through.
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Dazed a bit, Eric recovered from the shock of his fall and considered his predicament. When he had tried walking across the stream on what seemed a stable massive log, it had shifted because of a new surge of water coming down. He slipped and fell into the stream. His backpack broke the fall. The really bad part of it was that somehow the darn log had rolled onto his lap and legs pinning him down in the water. God was taking care of him though. Thank God for small mercies. He was OK. He felt good, cold but good. He tried pushing on the log, but it would not move, not even a little. Well, darn it all. His faith was strong. He knew that's what was important. God would take care of His own. Faith was everything in bad situations, faith that God would help him find a way out. He knew he would be OK. It was cold though. The water was soaking him through and it was so cold. He tried wiggling his toes. Darn it all he couldn't move them, couldn't feel them even. Probably the cold water was…having its effect…sucking the heat right out of him. He started to shiver. He tried calling out. No. Not going to work. He could not be heard over the roar of this torrent rushing past, and over him, and he was right down inside it. He was well off the trail, and who would be out hiking in this rain? Well. He was. God would deliver a solution. God's will would be done. He just had to have faith. He couldn't let doubt creep in because that was when God would turn His back. As long as his faith was rock solid everything would be OK. He tried pushing on the log again. Nothing. It had settled down onto him and both ends were between big rocks. It…it looked like he would have to lift it up more than a foot against a heavy water flow.
"God. I know You can hear me. I haven't sinned…recently…and anyway I've been praying regularly to keep myself ready. So…a way out of this would be really appreciated…sooner would be better."
He tried unbuckling his backpack. That did nothing. The log had shifted onto him pinning him and the pack was behind him. He was seated right on a broad flat rock. He pushed the pack back and the water grabbed it and pulled it out of his reach. The fast water flow was so cold.
The rain fall was steady, but darn it all - the water was rising. Must be raining harder somewhere upstream.
"Ahh. God. Don't mean to tell You Your business. But…ahh…I could use some help…soon."
He began praying. He couldn't put his hands together because he had to keep hold of the bark on the log or his head would fall back into the water. He was sure God would understand…given his circumstances his dropping the formalities. The Lord's Prayer seemed like a good one right now. He went through it twice and the water was still rising. It was up to over his chest. He couldn't lift the log so he would have to pull himself from underneath…somehow. He put his arms up as high as he could and pulled on a broken branch knob. His other hand could only get a hold on bark. He pulled hard. God helped those who helped themselves. He pulled harder. The water was up to his shoulders and still rising.
"God. My faith is strong. But I really really would like…"
The water reached his neck and chin. A stick riding a surge came right at his face…almost hit him. He grabbed for the branch just catching it before it got away. He could maybe use it as leverage. Maybe he could get the end between the bottom rock and the log pinning him down and lever it enough to pull out. He had little room. And he had to use one hand to hold himself up out of the water. He tried letting go to use both hands on the branch, but his head fell back and down under water. He took a deep breath and pushed the branch down towards his legs with both hands. He couldn't see shit and more disturbing couldn't feel anything down there. It was likely because of the cold. He had to come up for air. He tried again, took a deep breath, and shoved the branch down between the log and the rock. He felt like the end was in between the log and the rock. He held onto it with one hand and pulled the other out to take hold of the log above so he could get some air. The water was really high now. He stretched to keep contact with air. He felt a new surge of water cover his head. He tried again, to lever the log enough to pull out. The rock sure wouldn't be moving. Suddenly he was free. He was up and out of the water.
"Thank You Lord Almighty. Thank You for that timely miracle." He shouted, "Amen."
He looked around and down to where he saw several big sticks and a few logs in the stream. It was a mess of muddy water and logs tangled with branches sticking up here and there. How did he get out? Must have been a real darn good miracle. Where was his pack.
From behind him over the roar of the water he heard an almost shouted voice. "Hello."
He turned and there was a young girl hunched looking out from beneath her hood, rain draining down over her raincoat. He hadn't seen her. He didn't recognize the face, but the coat seemed familiar. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the roar of water. "Hello. Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"That miracle. The good Lord delivered me from death's door with a genuine miracle."
The girl looked around. "How so?" She stepped closer to stand next to him, which made it easier to talk over the background water noise, and she looked down into the same chaos of muddy water and tangled wood he had been checking out.
He wasn't sure just how he had gotten out. He moved closer to the logs in the stream. Must be right about here. He pointed down into the tangled mess of logs, branches, and rushing water. "Right there. I was trapped under a log. A big water surge moved that log, I tripped forward and in and the log settled on top of me. I got pinned underneath and then the waters started to rise." He laughed. "Man, that was a close one. I was trapped, couldn't move. But the good Lord saved me. I knew He would. I never doubted He would. My faith was strong. Never did my faith waver and He delivered me."
She walked over to a moss covered log and making sure the coat was underneath and between her and the wet mossy wood she sat down. She looked tired. He glanced around. She seemed to be alone. He asked, "How did you find me here?" This really was a miracle. The trail down here was not worn well. It was an odd chance that he had noticed it. No one could have heard him from up above and certainly not in this rain with this torrent drowning out his shouts.
She looked up into his face. She had a glow to her. That was odd. The light outside here in this rain was a bit diffused, but her face looked to be glowing…as did her hands.
She asked, "Did God say anything to you?"
He gave that some thought. "God doesn't really say anything directly. Actions speak louder than the language of mortals."
"Well, then. What makes you think God saved you?"
He smiled at her. "I'm here aren't I?"
"Why would God save you? I mean I'm sure you're a good person and all, but you were in a tight fix, so you really think that God would just reach down and pull you from underneath that log?"
"My faith in God is rock solid. God takes care of His flock. Why wouldn't God save me?"
"Do you feel any different?"
He thought about that. He wasn't wet anymore. He wasn't cold. Nothing hurt. Wow. "I'm dry and feel great. That was some miracle." He had forgotten his manners. "By the way, my name is Eric, Eric Peterson." He extended his hand.
She stood up and took it. She felt strong for such a small girl and she said, "And my name is George Lass."
She looked to her right and without saying more climbed over a pile of big rocks covered by dirt and leaves. She pushed through a bush branch or two. He followed her. This little knoll on the inside of the stream flow that bent in a sharp U and the sharp change in direction trapped logs and branches coming down. The water forcing its way through and over was loud. She climbed down to the other side and turned back to face him. He watched her from the top. And then moved down to stand beside her. "And?" He asked. He looked back. He had to recover that pack, which was somewhere in that mess of tree logs and branches caught in the flowing water. All his stuff was in there, his food, sleeping bag, not to mention his tent. He would need to get it dry. Right now he felt like he could do anything.
She didn't say anything but just pointed down into the stream. He broke from her gaze and followed where she pointed. The water was a bit muddy and flowed fast. He could just make out a yellow blob well under water. The water was still rising and he felt lucky because for sure…he looked again. He checked himself looking down at his coat, which was yellow…just like. He moved closer and…Oh my God. He looked back at the girl. She nodded at his unspoken question.
"Eric. That's you down there. You died."
"I'm dead? No. It can't be. I'm…right here. How?" He looked the girl over again. He jerked his eyes around. Everything seemed as it was. No change there. But he was not wet nor was he cold. He felt just fine. He turned to face her again.
She smiled. "I'm here to make sure you, your soul, get to where you need to go."
"What are you? An angel?"
"No, Eric. I'm a reaper, a grim reaper." She smiled. "Don't be afraid. You died and now you'll be passing over."
She came closer and took his hand. She felt solid. He also felt better, calmer. She said, "Eric. Just relax. Everything will be OK. You'll be just fine."
Eric couldn't take his eyes off the yellow figure trapped under the log, down under the fast flowing water. What had he done wrong that he didn't save him? Well, maybe he would ask him soon.
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George was soaked through despite her waterproof coat. She walked back up the trail and paused just outside their camp site. It was still raining but not as hard. The tents of their merry little band were clustered around two adjacent campfire pits - three and four tents - along this trail. She needed to walk through one cluster to get back to her own tent. She pushed her noticeability down and stepped carefully. She broke a branch and then another and the snap sounded loud to her but no one seemed to notice.
George pulled back the flap and down the zipper. From inside Grace looked up from her book. "Done?"
"Deed's done. Another satisfied customer on his way to the happy hunting grounds."
"He was an Indian?"
"No. He was…"
She thought the better of telling any details. What Grace didn't know she couldn't let slip. She regretted telling her the general direction and pointing out the location on a map. There was a body trapped under a tree trunk and it was unlikely anyone would find it soon, if ever. She sure was no Daniel Boone, but that path looked more like a deer or animal path than anything people had worn. And that path wasn't on the map for sure. The body might get found, more likely not, but for sure if someone pointed to it on a map to some authorities looking for a missing hiker, well, then it would be, and that could raise all kinds of questions. She really did not want to get dragged into something easily avoided. "The guy passed over and I don't remember his name." Outside the rain stopped. "Maybe we can eat something. What time is it?"
"You're hungry? Doesn't it…? I mean…"
George could see questions piling up on her face. "Grace. It's over. Forget about it because I have. By the way, this little rest has done wonders for me. I mean I still have blisters but I can walk much better now. Whatever, or whoever is suppressing my ghosting and healing abilities hasn't left me completely like you yet-to-be-harvested types. My feet feel pretty good."
Grace studied her face for a few heartbeats and then seemed to cross some internal boundary. She relaxed and hopefully let it go.
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Late that evening there was another final major burst of enthusiasm from the local weather sprites and then the drenching stopped. Grace didn't appreciate Nature's wet blanket but she did appreciate that George's temper had improved along with her healing feet and a couple night's sleep.
At morning first light Grace poked her head out to a fresh smelling and very damp dripping forest. A few of the others were already up. Elmer and Freddie were trying to light some damp wood. Chuck brought out a tiny gas stove and got that going. They had thirteen to cook for over that one tiny flame - Grace went with bread and a can of tuna. It was cold and whereas before they avoided the sun, now she at least was hoping it would find them down under the tree canopy. George even got up and out of the tent and talked with a few of the guys.
Mid morning the sun was up over the cliff face and ventured bright beams lighting up the upper tree branches, not yet reaching them down near the stream. They were more shaded than not and couldn't get the benefit of the sun until they got back out on the trail. Freddie brought out his map. She had studied hers and knew what they should do, but let Freddie and a few others propose their own ideas. Only two wanted to go up the waterfall basin - that would be the one with the dead body somewhere, which they might or might not see, should they go up that way. She didn't care. There was no crime, but finding the body would cause a commotion. John had said to trust George in these matters and suppress her own instincts, compartmentalize he advised. Those two were soon deflected towards a wiser course of action - that leg would be cut - and they would move on towards the valley Rube told her about and where they were supposed to stop and spend a night. There Rube said there was a waterfall - a small one - coming off a cliff face and feeding a stream passing by the ruins of an old cabin. A major selling point - it was obvious on the map it was out in an open meadow and would be nice and warm and hopefully dry by the time they got there. Apparently neither she nor George had a need to know right now why they needed to stop there, but they did, and so they would. This is why John was growing skeptical of coincidence and by extension free will. There had been a chance - before the rain - that they would spend too much time exploring and lounging around the other basin and its waterfalls and pools, but that possibility was gone. An accident?
After a late morning breakfast they started out on the trail. Grace hung back with George who, despite her improved feet, made no move to start out with the majority. She was used to bringing up the rear and Grace, with a map and experience, and the knowledge of where they were going would make sure George would get to where she needed to go. And, she didn't mind walking back with her. She liked George. And hadn't seen her in her death mode of late and with the one exception yesterday she had been pretty normal. George even joked with the guys as they stepped out ahead.
And not 20 minutes out on the trail they heard some shouting down at the confluence of the two streams. As they got closer she could see a few of the guys standing at the stream edge, packs off, discussing something, arms animated. Grace walked up to Elmer and Chuck, who at her approach pointed out and into the fast flowing water. There they could see the body of a young man in a bright yellow coat entangled among logs and branches in full view of anyone passing by the trail juncture. One of the guys who had climbed over some branches to get a closer look said, "Hey, it's Eric." She looked at George, who was doing a really great combination of surprise and ignorance with some indifference thrown into the mix. Yesterday she never mentioned that she had reaped Eric. And this had to be the guy she reaped yesterday, unless there was another reaper lurking somewhere nearby. Most of the troupe huddled. Grace looked over to see George sitting in the sun on a still wet log showing no interest at all in the corpse just a few yards away. And George displayed zero inclination to join their deliberations.
Grace brought her attention back to the huddle. She looked the map over.
Freddie looked too and said, "Shit." Everyone stopped cross talking.
Before Freddie could say anything Chuck jumped in, "Alas, poor Eric…" But that fell with a thud.
Freddie said pointing at their position on the map. "You know, look, Grace. Eric came from up there. That's where he said he was going."
BZ said, "Hey, that's where we would have been…" He let it hang.
She had images of 13 more bodies piled up here. They would have been up there with Eric when the rains hit but for George's feet. Shit. She felt like she knew too much. If she was on the fence, sometimes, about John's suspicions regarding free will and coincidence, well, she was all in now. At one stroke…what?..suddenly George's feet seemed like a blessing sent from Heaven, at least a stroke of good fortune. No one would be grumbling behind their backs now about how George and therefore Grace had fucked up the once in a lifetime senior hiking trip. Nope.
A couple of the guys, Elmer in particular, were adamant that they should retrieve the body, Eric's body she corrected herself, and do what she wasn't clear on. They sure couldn't carry it out. She looked back at George, who really seemed inclined to just sit in the sun. Bodies were not her department. She was taking care of her current body for now, but then it would need to be disposed of.
Several carried cell phones, but there was no reception here. Straws were drawn and one lucky guy was selected by Fate to hike back to the closest trailhead, which would likely have a landline phone and maybe a park ranger, and contact authorities, who then could work out how to remove the poor Eric. They said their goodbyes and headed toward the valley where it was so important for them to spend a night.