This is the continuation of "At River's Bend," written in mid-August, on my way back to San Francisco from Lake Tahoe. 

http://opensalon.com/blog/just_cathy/2010/08/17/at_rivers_bend

(if you care to read above first) 

What follows, are the continued imaginings of what may have occurred the day I decided to park alongside a rest stop and take a short walk to the active river below the mountain highway.

The inner voice had urged me into an irresistible scene where  I was lost to a fate I never dreamed would happen.  On this pristine summer morning, a moment with nature turned quite rapidly in a different direction.

     ~

He took my shoes from me.  

Well, they were the Reefs with slight insoles that made walking in flip-flops more comfortable and were all I had between me and the jagged rocks, poking pine needles and broken glass left behind by some previous visitors to this perfect spot along the American River. Seeing the broken glass caused a momentary distraction to the surreal scene that was playing out in front of me and directly behind.  

This creature was leading me farther and farther away from the highway that ran along the river and far above me now.  The river's bend headed directly east and opposite my intended direction to return to my home in the Bay area. With the deepening pain in my right side, where minutes ago he pressed the blade just deep enough to result in a rich red gush of blood, I felt like I'd become some undefined prey with nowhere to go but further away.  I was stunned.

Keeping my head down low, daring not to see or identify him, I hoped he would realize I had no ambitions of fighting or resisting whatever his intentions might be.  To this point, I sensed only his determination to move me further away from sight or from any other humanity trekking along the river.  And then, we crossed it.  At this point I knew there was no turning back without certain harm for my futile attempts.

Barefoot, cut and bruised, my feet carried me along this path to nowhere. My once strong knees and back were aching with every step, as I braced my sides with my hands to support the weight of my fears.  As we entered a barely visible path through a canopy of pines and brush, I saw my life outside of this secluded forest becoming dimmer with the waining light through the tiny bare patches of the branches overhead.  Here, he took the lead.

Even if I thought I could out run him, it was useless for me to flee on foot, as the growing pain within me cautioned me that I would only become the hunted and I would lose.  With barely a glimpse of him now, I saw that he was shirtless, his faded tee shirt thrown over one shoulder, his raven black hair pulled back tightly in a pony tail.  In a split second, I could see that his skin was darkened by the sun, over his lean and smooth back.  Nothing about him appeared to be threatening and yet, the icy silence was as deadly as anything I had ever felt.

I hadn't worn a watch this day, but had an idea that it was heading into mid-afternoon.  We had walked in silence for what seemed to be hours, since the morning's first encounter at the rock where I rested so peacefully.  I shuddered to think this would or could be my last day on the planet.  I played out the various scenarios of what he planned for me, yet nothing seemed so mysterious as the nothingness that came from his body language and demeanor.  He hadn't spoken a word to me.  Should I dare to speak?

The exhaustion spoke volumes to me as I knew without a doubt I had no hope of running from this.  I couldn't bear the thought of being hunted for sport, cut up in small pieces and left for the vultures that circled overhead.  To my surprise, I heard myself utter the words, "Can I help you?"  Followed by nothing, not a twitch, a turn or movement, he kept his pace ahead of me.  The inner voice in me continued its torture, until I heard the tiny voice inside me, "Is there something you need?"  Again, the unbearable silence.  He stopped.

I held my breath.  He pointed to a log.  I knew to sit in silence.  I kept my head so low, my eyes o the ground.  I dared not look.  I heard him walk away in the distance.  I was relieved for the moment.  I must have dozed off.  For how long, I had no idea.  When I awoke, I felt a wet, cold wrap, tight around my waist, concealing the gouge in my side where his knife had been, hours earlier.  It was a bandage of sorts.  I could barely see the shadow of blood through his tee torn shirt, a part of which he used to bind my wound.  I was mesmerized by uncertainty and weak from fear and unknowing.

We were on the move again.  Deeper into isolation, further into a foreboding forest of dark secrets and a destination more misleading than I could bear.  How many miles had we walked since this morning, when all I could think of was the beauty of the morning and all its marvel, which led me to a destiny of uncalculated proportions.

And then we were there.  A small clearing in the woods, a makeshift building of logs, branches, pieces of wood and a badly torn and faded tarp, were all I could see, barely raising my head to take it all in.  A campfire pit, surrounded by river rock, had left a smoldering scent of charred wood of a recent burn.  Was this to be my final resting place?

Books?  Were those stacks of books I saw from the corner of my eye?  Yes, mostly paper backs, with torn covers, curled pages and yellowing at the edges.  Lots of books, summer reading, romance novels, mysteries, detective stories....likely collected from  tourists and campers who had been here before.  Grisham, Brown, King...oh dear, not Stephen King.

"Dear Lord, would I ever get out of here?  Why was he so silent?"  I still hadn't seen his face.  Thank god.  I could not, would not identify him. Would he know that?  I have cooperated without resistance, no screaming or running for it...nothing.  Simply submissive in the hopes of finding a way out out of this.  Why had I stopped this particular day? Why did I listen to my adventurous inner voice?  Careless, stupid, naive of me to think I could venture down to the river for just a small rest from the monotonous drive I had done back and forth for years now.  

I was never so alone.  Should have considered that before leaving my car without my cell phone.  Didn't want to get it wet while I dipped my legs into the rushing river.  What good would it have done?  Likely no cell service here at all.  Of course not.  I was only going to be gone for ten minutes, max.  And now, hours later, so far from my car and the familiar road home...where was I?  Who was this dark, speechless creature?  

My mind drifted to the sight of his inky black straight hair.  So familiar and comfortable he was with the river, its twists and turns and the invisible trails he knew so instinctively.  His knife, his only possession visible to me in that first split second introduction to his stealthy presence.  Could it be, he was an outcast from some lost native American tribe?  I was certain these woods were once inhabited by American Indians, who were displaced and robbed of their land, their lives, but had survived, nonetheless.

Was my mind playing tricks on me?  Was my trance so deep I could no longer perceive what was happening?  He had disappeared into the woods for what seemed to have been several minutes and then reappeared, head down, coming towards me.  Out of the back pocket of his blood stained jeans (my blood), he drew out my Reefs, set them down on the ground a few feet away and reached into another pocket.  Oh God, was this it?  The knife I dreaded seeing ever again, piercing my flesh, perhaps mortally this time?

He pulled out a scrap of paper and set it down ever so slowly on top of one shoe, then turned suddenly and disappeared into the woods. 

I watched for a few minutes in the direction where he had taken off but saw nothing, heard nothing.   My heart pounding, my breath barely audible, I listened.  This, now, was the moment I knew I must go.  It was now or never and a risk I had to take.  I grabbed my shoes, slipped them on and stuffed the piece of paper in my pocket.

I looked in the direction we had come, observed the sky and the remaining light in the sky, calculating the time I might need to find my way back to the river and hopefully to safety.  I feared getting lost after dark but knew there was a good chance of the summer daylight sustaining my return before total darkness set in.  I scurried low at first, like a released animal, uncertain and afraid of sudden retaliation, but none came.  

I gathered the strength and wits God gave me and headed away from this place as fast as my aching body would allow.  New stores of energy filled me as I prayed for God's safety and protection from harm and a safe return to my home and family. 

I stopped intermittently along the way back, hoping to hear the sound of rushing water, that would lead me back to the river and the highway above. It seemed an eternity had passed, out of breath, frequently looking over my shoulder for any sign of the dark creature in pursuit.  If I could just get to the river, I knew I could cross it almost anywhere and be led to the the familiar road and figure out where I was relative to where I left my car.

"Please, God, help me to find my way back.  Please let me get through this and back to the ones I love, the family who needs me as much as I do them.  Please."

When the river appeared suddenly in front of me, I didn't recognize whether it was north or south of where I had begun this journey.  I eased down the slight embankment and cautiously crossed the river, slipping on mossy boulders, feeling the freezing snow melt tingling around my legs, numbing my toes.  It was such sweet relief.  I decided to head south when I reached the other side, hoping to find the rock where I first sat down to rest, knowing the trail back up the hill to the rest stop would be nearby.

He had taken me farther north and east than I first thought and I kept moving south along the river for what seemed an hour or so.   The light in the sky was fading fast.  Soon it would be too dark to continue safely.  I moved as fast as I could to beat the sunset that was closing in around me. My heart pounded faster than before.  Would he have tracked me by now? Was I even getting closer to my car or farther away?  I questioned my sense of direction and felt a tremendous weight bear down on me.

Oh God, was that the rock?  I hurried toward what looked like the rock where I had been earlier in the morning.  The tree that shaded the rock where I first sat so calmly looking at the cool, rushing water of the river?  I looked around me, front and back and across the river, looking for signs of life that could overtake my own.  Nothing.

Why I choose to stop and sit on this rock again I'll never know.  Perhaps it was just sheer exhaustion and a much needed rest.  I sat and caught my breath.  Feeling the pounding in my chest begin to dissipate, a sense of calm came over me, I pulled the scrap of paper from my pocket.  In childlike scrawl, I read the words that both stunned and confused me.

"I need books."

 And beneath those words was just one other: 

" Go."

Was that the answer to my question I dared to ask in deep trepidation earlier?  Was I losing my mind completely?

I read it again and again and got up to leave this spot; this rock, contemplating whether or not I would ever dare to return to this place, let alone bring books back to this dark, silent creature of the woods? Was I insane to consider such a request?

When from deep inside me, my persistent inner voice said softly,

"You probably will."  

"He will know they are behind the rock." 

                           ~ 

The trance was letting go.  

I looked at my gages and saw that my cruise control was still on.  Good. Don't want a speeding ticket.   What time was it?  An hour and a half had passed and I was well out of the mountains and already through Sacramento.  I was making very good time to be home in three hours.  I could wait to eat lunch once I got home, no problem.

Couldn't help going through my mental laundry list of all the things I needed to do while only home for two days this time, before returning to the mountains...

...The insatiable appetite for the mountains that beckons me to return, time and time again.