Gift of Exile, Chapter 25
Maggie’s car had reappeared in the driveway when they arrived home a few days later. "Told ya she’d be back," David remarked but before they even got to the stairway Maggie hurried out the front door, dressed in what looked to Ennis like an Indian princess costume from an old movie and followed by a tall, blonde man. "H-e-y-y-y Ennis, Doctor D!" she called brightly. "Glad we didn’t miss each other, I want you to meet somebody!" Ennis glanced at David and got a new boyfriend - what did I tell ya? look in reply. Maggie had taken to braiding her reddish hair lately but right now it billowed and fluttered around her face like a burnished scarf and her pale Nordic skin now had a frosted-cream color. "This is the housemate I told you about, my friend from Georgia, David," she said to her companion. "And this is his cousin from Wyoming. Ennis." Ennis was relieved at the family reference but, surprisingly, a little irritated at the same time. . "And this is Sam Madsen."
Sam, with his stoutly muscular body, unruly blonde hair and a broad-boned face whose ruddiness gave it a look of always being slightly sunburned, would have been quickly recognized by any of the Viking descendants who’d populated Minnesota over the past few centuries. "Good ‘t meetcha," was all he said, making Ennis recall Jonathan’s recent remark that "lotsa Minnesota people aren’t much more for conversation than you are." Nevertheless, Ennis noticed the extra wrinkling around Sam’s eyes, the rough terrain of the skin on the rest of his face and the large knuckles and callouses on his hands, and recognized the look of another who’d spent much of his life working outdoors. "Sam works for Animal Control," Maggie informed them; "yep" was Sam’s only rejoiner.
"We’re headin over to Sam’s place right now," Maggie said. She dug a battered envelope out of her oversized purse -- which looked to Ennis like a highly-decorated version of the sacks he and Jack had used to hang bacon up out of the reach of bears - and scribbled a phone number on it hastily. "Here’s the number if anybody needs to reach me. I’m scheduled to work all weekend, so I might not be back before Monday."
David put it in his pocket. "I haven’t seen ya all week, Maggie. Told Ennis I figured you had something interestin going on."
She pretended to pout. "We haven’t seen much of you at Grandma’s since I don’t know when. Fridays just aren’t the same."
"Yeah, we’ve both been busier ‘n a one-armed paper hanger at the store but we’re finishin up now." He looked at Ennis questioningly. "Okay to stop by there after work tomorrow? Have a few drinks?"
"Yeah, sure." Ennis knew there was nothing to do about his automatic apprehension except try to ignore it. It was a technique he hadn’t yet mastered but which had become imperceptibly easier over the past weeks.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jonathan had not been to work since Tuesday. "Andrea called," David mentioned the next day. "He hadn’t been feelin too good."
Ennis knew that not all men had a wife and two children by age 25 as he’d had, but it seemed odd to him that Jonathan would still be living with his aunt. "Seems like he’d wanna have his own place. He takin care of her or something?"
"She’s takin care of him’s more like it," David answered. "Jonathan’s had a pretty hard life so far. His family, that side of it anyway, they’re - well, real religious, in the worst way if you know what I mean. They found out he was gay when he was about 16 and figured the best thing t’ do was beat the Devil out of him. Literally. They finally threw him out six years ago, or he couldn’t take it anymore and left, I’m not sure which, eventually he ended up in a shelter in Minneapolis. If it weren’t for Andrea, I’m not sure he’d still be alive. He hasn’t been here in Duluth long, I think it’s been about a year or so."
The familiar memory of his father, and the fear that had been part of the very air one breathed in the del Mar household, was followed by another memory that didn’t flash by but perched on the edge of Ennis’ thoughts. Javier back in Wyoming, whose family, according to Ken Heiman, had wanted nothing to do with him just when he had needed them the most. It was troubling enough that he turned back to his work without answering and David watched him narrowly for a few minutes but said nothing more.
On Friday afternoon, David surprised him by suggesting they take off early. "I just checked with Kelly, she said she wouldn’t mind gettin an hour’s head start on the weekend." Kelly, straightening shelves nearby, sent him a wide-eyed look and half-shrug to confirm that this wasn’t a regular Friday occurrence. Looking at David, who was leaning casually against a counter and waiting for his answer, Ennis noticed other changes for the first time. The man who’d greeted him on the beach a little over a month ago wearing carefully-pressed trousers and white sweater was now wearing well-fitting jeans, tee shirt and a light jacket and his hair was still carefully barbered but looked slightly windblown, with one stubborn lock on the left side flopping over and curling over his right cheekbone like a comma. Even on the day Ennis had met him David had never been city-pale, but now more time spent outdoors with Ennis had changed the tints of his skin slightly, throwing his gray eyes into sharper relief. "Wouldn’t mind if it’s okay with you, Doc," he answered.
"Definitely all right with me - we’ve both earned it. Now let’s start closin up before anybody comes in. We’ll have more’n enough time to finish up Seven Bridges."
Despite the temporary glut of work they’d continued their walks together, exploring the world of nature that flourished behind the city and even in the middle of it. On his errands in the van Ennis had regularly caught glimpses of streams, small cataracts and wooded niches; and in the few spare hours they managed, he and David were exploring Seven Bridges Road and its surrounding parks, one bridge at a time.
At the east end of Skyline Drive, running along the Lake’s ancient shoreline at the top of the hill where one panoramic view melded into another, the road turned and wound down the steep ravine toward the Lake. Along its descent, seven eroded but still sturdy stone bridges crossed a small river, amiably named Amity Creek. Starting at the top of the hill, Ennis and David had stopped at the first two bridges and watched the creek slice effortlessly through the softer layers of the old volcanic rock to create small gorges and waterfalls. On the easier slopes the current flowed and tumbled rather sedately; but early in the year, and in this particular year when the Lake was at a record high level, even some of the smallest creek beds filled up with billowing white crinolines of water. Although invisible this far back from the shoreline the Lake made its presence powerfully felt, as if it had called up to the ridge with an imperious voice and all the water responded with a mad rush down the ravine.
For so much of Ennis’ working life, Nature had been an opponent whose blows were measured in wind, sleet, cold that could freeze fingers and toes, streams that could swell quickly and dangerously during storms. It was during his brief times with Jack that even these had a certain exhilaration. During his and Jack’s hours-long rides along streams and lakes and over mountain trails, everything they saw took on importance and value because of the moments when either he or Jack said look over there! and they saw, felt, heard and smelled the same things at the same time. Now, exploring this landscape of gorges, cliffs, shadowy glades and sunny, flower-dotted meadows with David transformed it from scenery to be looked at into a realm ruled by a spirit that had drawn an invisible circle to embrace them both.
They could have walked the whole 4-mile road in one day, but by the third bridge they’d started exploring the maze of brooks and riverlets, all spaced by grassy banks leading up to low but steep ridges. This was border country between the evergreen and hardwood forests; so aspens, birches and fir trees were all cluttered together, the early-summer gentle green shades of the hardwoods seeming to glow slightly wherever they were framed by the evergreens’ denser colors and deep shadows. "I’ve driven down this road in the fall," David told Ennis, "and those fir trees never change color much so the other ones look real bright standin next to ‘em." Before long they were rolling up their jeans and wading along the calmer stretches, climbing over rocks at some of the rapids and occasionally discovering water slides accidentally. "Oughta bring those cutoffs I gave ya," David suggested. "Uh, I still feel nekkid wearin that getup," was Ennis’ response, but he stashed his swimming clothes in the back seat of the car nevertheless.
"So, David asked as the car pulled out of the parking lot, "you still up for Grandma’s later?"
Ennis shrugged. "Can’t see puttin Maggie off much longer, ‘specially her workin just across the bridge. She’s been askin and I keep tellin her I’ll come by." He tried to sound casual, but his life in Duluth so far had not included places like the crowded, noisily vital neighborhood restaurant and bar where Maggie worked. He now wondered if David known how uneasy he’d been on that night in Wyoming at the Black and Blue Eagle Bar. "Well, David ventured, "at least we’ve already met the boyfriend. He’ll prob’ly be there."
"Hm. Yeah, you said her taste was improvin."
"I never met the guy she was engaged to years ago. But from what she told me he grew up on a farm, wanted t’ be a vet. Most of the guys I’ve seen Maggie take up with are kinda bad-boys, you know, guys ya know won’t stick around for long. Even her husband was like that, I figure that might’ve ended by now if he hadn’t got himself killed. So maybe she’s serious about this one."
Ennis wiped some sweat from his face, drying the palm of his hand on his shirt sleeve. "Better day f’r swimmin’ than walkin. This is the first hot day since I got here."
"That’s perfect," David answered cryptically. "We’re close to the bottom of the road, we’ll be gettin to the Deeps today."
"The what?"
"You’ll see. Just put on those swimmin clothes I gave ya."
Twenty minutes later, David found a narrow shoulder to park the car. After a short hike downhill they saw the bridge just ahead of them, and Ennis caught a glimpse of the waterfall underneath it. Standing behind the partial screen of the open car door, he changed to his cut-off jeans and tee shirt and David stripped to boxer shorts. "Thought you said the water was too cold ta swim in," he remarked to David, admiring the sight nonetheless. "I’ve been swimmin in a few other lakes around here," David answered. "It’s Superior that’s the icebox. We’re lucky to have this place to ourselves - it’s a popular place all summer, looks like a public beach sometimes."
They stood on a broad rock ledge whose gentle downward slope changed abruptly to a drop of more than 20 feet. To their right was the highest and widest waterfall they’d seen yet, although it looked like an easy enough slope for the falls to serve as a waterslide; and below them was a wide spot in the creek carved into an oblong pool with a broad gravel bar to one side. The ledge was no higher than the one that Ennis and Jack had jumped from on that first, euphoric "fishing trip" and the feeling of giddiness and freedom was still a vivid memory.
But it was a memory; and looking over this rock ledge, Ennis was suddenly conscious of every day of his 41 years. They seemed suddenly to be standing at a dizzying height and the pool below looked only a little bigger than a water barrel surrounded by menacing-looking rocks. Each of them gazed down at the water dubiously, and each waited for the other to make a move.
Somebody’s gotta go first, Ennis finally thought, ignoring the feeling that his stomach seemed to have contracted into a tight ball and every nerve in his arms and shoulders had somehow migrated to the surface of his skin. He took two steps down the rock’s final incline before David remarked:
"I think this is the spot people jump from."
Ennis wasn’t aware that he was holding his breath until it burst out of him. "You think? Shit, Doc! I thought you’d done this!"
"Well, not exactly," David hedged. "But I’ve heard about it. And there’s sure enough cars here Sunday afternoons all summer and people jumpin’ off this ledge all day - how dangerous can it be? Besides, I thought you said you did this kinda jump with Jack."
"Yeah, well, we was in our early twenties then."
"Weren’t we all…. You don’t wanna go first?"
Ennis hated his own hesitancy but didn’t like the prospect of plunging off the ledge much better, and retreating to take the side path down to the pool was not to be thought of. "How do you know how deep it is?"
"I don’t. But people jump off of here all the time."
"I dunno about this," Ennis hedged.
"You know you want to."
Something both challenging and teasing in David's voice made Ennis look over and catch the other man's smile. You bet your ass I want to followed his initial annoyance and exasperation, and in the next second by a hectic rush of energy that almost propelled him toward David instead of the ledge. What he’d felt while flinging off his clothes on another rock ledge so many years ago was more than a memory now, as he realized that this was the closest they’d been to being naked with each other. In the next instant, his feet carried him the last few yards to the edge of the bluff and he felt the muscles of his right leg flex powerfully as he pushed himself as far out from the rocks as possible and flung himself into the air.
The sensation of falling didn't last as long as he would have thought. Plunging into the pool was not like diving into the Lake’s icy lucidness but was rather a descent into a mysterious emerald chamber illuminated by shafts and spangles of reflected light. The surface looked like a rippling mirror, tiny and far-off; and as his feet touched the rocky floor of the pool he pushed back hard and shot quickly up to the surface. His head was now on a level with the ground and for a few moments the trees, sunlight and sky seemed to form swirling columns of green, gold and blue above his head. He'd swum about halfway to the bank when he heard a yell, something plummeted out of the sky and David disappeared under the water's surface only a few feet away from him.
The air seemed to grow quieter as Ennis stared at the widening ripples where David had disappeared, and as several seconds dragged by a catalogue of disasters ran through his mind. Hit his head on a rock and he’s knocked out underwater - no, hurt his back when he’d hit the water, couldn’t swim to the surface, -- Jesus H., maybe he landed under the waterfall, slammed him back against the rocks - his catastrophic speculations were abruptly cut short when he felt something grasp him by one foot from behind. With a half-yelp he yanked his foot free and did a thrashing about-face in the water as David exploded to the surface next to him, gasping and laughing.
"Godalmighty, Ennis, you almost kicked me right in the face! Whatja think grabbed you -- Jaws?" Ennis, still spluttering, grabbed at him but David eluded him easily and started swimming back toward the waterfall. " ‘Shark! Shark in the pond!’ " he quoted, intoning the movie’s two-tone theme: " BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum….. " His arms swung in a wide arc above his head, reaching and pulling the churning water back as he swam and Ennis, neither alarmed nor angry now, caught up with him quickly and turned him around so they were facing each other.
Their momentum had carried them half underneath the waterfall, the spray scraping against Ennis' back and forming a silvery veil over them. After the weeks of being close to each other, both of them watching each other, finally, that odd wariness and hesitation he’d sensed in David gone for the moment. David’s shoulders were pressed against an outcrop of rock and Ennis felt another man’s chest against his, felt their cold-hardened nipples touching through the soaked fabric, at last, his body told him, and feels right.
David’s arms slid under his as Ennis’ mouth traveled up his neck and chin and then his hand slid around the back of David’s neck. The first thing he felt against his lips was the cool water that his mouth nuzzled as if he was thirsty; then a roughness of beard stubble and the warmth of the skin beneath it. The warmth of his mouth against David's, and the water beading both their faces and slipping over their tongues as their lips parted, formed the middle ground between the tearing force of the cold water rushing over them and the urgent heat of both their bodies.
He hooked his left knee around David’s right one and pulled David toward him, as his tongue imperiously explored first the inside of the other man’s lips and then brushed over the ridges of the even teeth, lightly flicking against his tongue. David gasped, and Ennis felt their breath mingling. He did not pull away but Ennis felt the muscles in his back tense and his body straighten slightly and in the same moment they heard a car door slam, seemingly right above them.
The old fear, which had not always been without foundation, gripped him and he expected to see angry or shocked or condemning faces glowering down off the ledge at them. "Don’t worry," David whispered, shakily. "They’re parked a ways up," and he was right. They were hearing voices on the narrow dirt trail now, men and women, carelessly chattering on this warm Friday afternoon. They sat on the larger rocks on the shore near the waterfall, drying off and watching the four newcomers gather up on the ledge: none of them much over twenty and all of them, like Ennis and David, wearing swimming clothes improvised from shorts, shirts and cut-off jeans. The two young men, obviously conscious of their female companions watching them, argued over who would jump first.
By the time they got back to the car, their clothes were no longer dripping but still wet. "We’ll be walkin in ta Grandma’s with wet hair," Ennis said. "What’ll they think?"
"Prob’ly they’ll be impressed when I tell em we went swimming at the Deeps," David answered, sitting on the edge of the back seat as he pulled up his jeans. "But guess what, I don’t have any dry underwear. If I wear those wet boxers, I might end up lookin like I didn’t find the men’s room on time so I’ll just hafta go without. You better be damn sure ‘n’ warn me if ya see my fly open."
"Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll sure do that."
For views of jumpers at "the Deeps", watch the video "A Day At the Deeps" at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5ojzivyREI
INDEX TO CHAPTERS
Chapter 1: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/392.html
Chapter 2: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/523.html
Chapter 3: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/1066.html
Chapter 4: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/1485.html
Chapter 5: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/1704.html
Chapter 6: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/2038.html
Chapter 7: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/2358.html
Chapter 8: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/2635.html
Chapter 9: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/2947.html
Chapter 10: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/3130.html
Chapter 11: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/3356.html
Chapter 12: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/3655.html
Chapter 13: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/3934.html
Chapter 14: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/4154.html
Chapter 15: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/4591.html
Chapter 16: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/4685.html
Chapter 17: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/5094.html
Chapter 18: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/5140.html
Chapter 19: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/5546.html
Chapter 20: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/6249.html
Chapter 21: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/6434.html
Chapter 22: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/6843.html
Chapter 23: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/7306.html
Chapter 24: http://talkstocoyotes.livejournal.com/7646.html