Far Country (3 page)

           
Chuck swore in disgust as he
tied
off and prepared to
rappel down to the victim.  He took any loss of life in the park
personally.  “Another idiot bites the dust,” he muttered gloomily. He
tested the rope, then leaned back and pushed off, landing smoothly. Steve
followed with the first aid kit, already feeling depressed at the sight of the
crumpled body.

           
Chuck waited for Steve to unhook from the line before he approached the victim.
Steve held the flashlight as Chuck gently rolled the man to his back. A weak
moan from the corpse made them both jump. Chuck grabbed for his radio. “Dude!
This guy is still alive! Send down the litter and call for a chopper. We’ll
have to airlift him from the knob, if they can do it!”

           
Steve and Chuck worked quickly to stabilize the young man and loaded him on the
litter.  Two other rangers had arrived since Chuck and Steve had gone over
the side, and they helped the two men as they painstakingly guided the litter
up the 75 foot wall.  Then the four rangers hoisted the litter onto their
shoulders and began the grueling trek to the top of the trail.

           
At last, exhausted and sweating in the cool predawn air, they reached the
summit ten minutes ahead of the helicopter.  Carefully they arranged their
flashlights to outline a fairly even section of the bare rock that made up much
of Moore’s Knob. The helicopter arrived and managed to land on their improvised
site without a hitch. They loaded the man quickly, and after briefly speaking
with the medical team, Steve and Chuck stepped back and away from the whirling
blades. The wind beat against them as the bird lifted off into the night and a
minute later, the group was left standing in the eerie silence that followed
the helicopter’s departure.

           
Steve took a sip out of his water bottle, and turned toward the peak a few
hundred yards away. Chuck called after him. “Aren’t you coming back down?”

           
Steve kept walking up the slope. He could make out the black outline of the
observation tower against the fading night sky.

           
“No point in trying to go back down before daylight," he called back over
his shoulder. "Figured I might as well enjoy the sunrise since I’m up
here.”

           
Chuck laughed and looked at the others questioningly. They shrugged.

“He
has a point,” one of them said. “Why take a chance on twisting an ankle in the
dark now?.”

Wearily,
they followed Steve, climbed the steps of the tower, and stood quietly, looking
toward the eastern sky.

           
They didn’t have long to wait.  Almost imperceptibly, the hills behind the
lake flushed pink and gold.  The men watched in silence at first, then
Pete, a burly young ranger who had lived in the shadow of the
Saurotown
Mountains his whole life, began to sing
softly.  Normally, Steve, the loner, would have resented the intrusion,
but somehow it seemed to fit, even if it was one of those hokey Christian
songs.

                       
I love you, Lord. And I lift my voice

                       
To worship You, Oh my soul, rejoice

                       
Take joy my king, in what you hear

           
Steve had rejected God long ago, but if there
had
been a God, then the
incredibly haunting majesty of that sunrise would have been a moment of
worship. Steve even envied Pete that absolute certainty in the existence of a
Supreme Being. He supposed that if he had been raised in these hills, and had
never had to bear the reality of Sarah’s ‘life’, he too could have believed in
God.  Pete had always led a life protected by the permanence of these
mountains. He had not prayed desperately for a miracle and learned that only
the empty night sky heard prayers. Steve supposed that those despairing cries
were still drifting in the void of unknowing and uncaring space.

           
Pete was quiet again. Steve realized he was holding his breath, as if waiting
for something to follow the rising of the sun. Almost in a dream state, he
looked around the summit. No wind stirred the scrubby pines. Nothing moved. And
yet…

           
Abruptly, the radio crackled to life from Chuck’s hip. The mood fled and the
men were suddenly aware that they were still standing in the tower. Chuck
reached for the radio and checked in with the park headquarters. “Come on,
y’all,” he chided. “Let’s get moving. Some of us still have to work today.”

           
Saturday found Steve on duty at the lake
.  It was a good thing that
events like last night were few and far between!
He reflected as he fought
to control yet another yawn.  Wearily he strolled along the pavilion,
trying to ignore the rivulets of sweat that trickled from his collar and down
his back.  The sky was a merciless blue expanse. Steve nodded to a group
of sun worshipers and half wished he could
dive
off
of the lifeguard’s platform into the icy lake water. Surely that would shake
him out of this sleep deprived lethargy!  Instead, he climbed the steps of
the pavilion to the 2
^nd
level snack bar and bought a bottle of
water.

           
“Thanks,” he said, smiling absently at the sandy haired ranger working behind
the counter.

           
She didn’t smile back. “My name’s Deborah,” she stated a little loudly.

           
Startled by her tone, Steve turned back to look at the young woman.  He
recalled that she had just started work here a couple of weeks ago, fresh out
of college.  She had been assigned lake duty and the Visitor’s Center
information desk - both mind numbing jobs, in his opinion. He felt a small
burst of sympathy. It was probably not the work she had expected to be doing
when she first came here.  He remembered how much he had chafed to escape
the monotony of desk work his first year.  But he had survived it, and by
the look of her…Steve REALLY looked at her for the first time.

           
Reddish brown hair with a natural curl, fixed in an easy, non-fussy style. Not
overly tall, but a sturdy body, trim and well muscled. A smattering of freckles
and wide-set green eyes....a memory flickered.

           
“Deborah?” He asked in a tentative voice. “From…”

           
“High school,” she finished the sentence for him, smiling at last.  “I was
wondering if you would ever remember me!”

           
“Sorry, I guess I just never really looked at you.” Steve actually blushed
shamefacedly at the admission, and raced to fix it. 

           
“I mean, how could I ever forget doing
Oklahoma!
with you in high
school?” He said quickly. “That was the longest twelve weeks of my life!”

Deborah’s
smile froze slightly. She looked wounded. “Gee, thanks a lot,” she said
stiffly.

           
Steve realized he had blundered again. “No! Not being in the play with you –
you were great!” He stuttered, feeling like an idiot. “But I didn’t
want
to
be in the play in the first place!” He sighed and started over again. “Sarah
made me try out,” he explained.  “She had this idea that
we
would
both get the lead roles, but when I got Curly, and YOU got Laurie…” Steve
shuddered. “Well, as I said, it was the longest twelve weeks of my life,” he
finished with a martyred smile.

           
Deborah’s green eyes widened. “I never knew Sarah was upset about that!” She
said seriously.  “She made such a great Ado Annie, and she was always nice
to me!”

           
Steve grimaced.  “I guess you never looked in her direction while we were
singing “People Will Say We’re in Love!”

“I
guess not,” she agreed, giggling a little at the look on Steve’s face.  “I
was too nervous! There I was, playing opposite one of the best looking guys in
the senior class...” she laughed.  “No wonder you’d hardly even look at
me! And all the time I was convinced you thought I was homely, or that you were
too stuck up to speak to a mere sophomore.”

           
Steve smiled, his blue eyes softening at the memory. “No, you were never
homely,” he assured her, “and that was part of the problem! I didn’t dare be
too friendly with you, because Sarah watched us like a hawk! After practice I had
to listen to her: ‘Why did Deborah get the part? I’m as good an actress. I’m
just as pretty; don’t you think I’m just as pretty, Steve?’” Steve shook his
head glumly. “No matter what I said, I landed in hot water.”  

           
Deborah laughed sympathetically. “She
was
a good actress, and she just
about stole the show with her Ado Annie! Seems to me you had more cause to be
jealous, the way she carried on with that peddler and cowboy. Between the
‘Paris Good-bye” and the ‘Oklahoma Hello’, she hardly had time to come up for
air!”

           
Steve shrugged and shook his head sadly. “Strangely, she never saw it that way.
But I had my way of pacifying her,” he added with a fond smile.

 Deborah
grinned mischievously. “Uh-huh. It’s amazing to me the two of you didn’t set
that haystack on fire!”

Steve
looked so startled that Deborah laughed outright. “Oh
please
don’t tell
me you didn’t realize the whole cast knew where you two spent all your time between
scenes!”

“I
guess it never really occurred to me…” Steve looked distinctly uncomfortable.

 “Some
kids even helped cover so Mrs. Richardson wouldn’t catch you!” Deborah’s grin
softened into a smile. “It was okay, though.  Everyone knew how in love the
two of you were. You were almost a storybook couple.” They were silent a
moment, smiling at each other and their shared memories.

Finally
Deborah said softly, “I’m so sorry about what happened – the accident and all.
I always wanted to tell you that I’ve been praying for both of you, but I never
saw you after the graduation to say good bye.”

Steve’s
bemused smile faded abruptly. It was almost as if he could hear the screeching
tires and Sarah’s final terrified scream, feel her clutch his arm as his car
careened off the road and began to roll…

He
stepped back from the counter.  “Thanks,” he replied stiffly.

Deborah
saw the abrupt change in his face, and the softness that had been in his eyes
only a moment before disappeared. A guarded, almost impersonal expression
replaced the easy smile that she remembered so well from their high school
days.  She stepped back from the counter as well.  Clearly he had not
moved on.

“So,
I’ll see you around then,” she said a little confused by the sudden change in
his demeanor.

“Yeah,”
Steve said vaguely. “It was – good – to see you again,” he managed to say
before he hurried out of the bath house. He found a quiet corner out of sight
and leaned against the wall, once again finding himself thrown back to that
horrible night…what had she said?
She had been praying for him?
     
A fat lot of good that had done, he thought bitterly.

Prayer…Steve
recalled the minister who had met him at the hospital. He had been called by
one of the paramedics, Steve recalled. The man had tried to counsel him
throughout the long summer. He had sat with Steve in silence, never forcing him
to speak, and he had held him when he cried. Steve recalled he had even
attempted to intercede for him with Sarah’s family when they refused to let him
near her room in the hospital.  He remembered their many conversations
about trusting God, giving the pain to God, letting God work, but Reverend
Graham could never tell him the one thing he wanted – NEEDED to know – WHY?

Eventually
that hellish summer had ended. Even though he needed a cane to walk, and his
forearm was still in a splint from two operations to repair the shattered bone,
Steve  had escaped Jacksonville for college. Western Carolina, deep in the
mountains, had been the perfect place to hide.  Unexpectedly, the
mountains soon captured his heart.  Nowhere else did he find such a sense
of peace. After the second year at Western, except for brief visits at
Christmas, he quit going back to Jacksonville altogether. He had only been home
once since his father’s sudden death two years ago… He shuddered at that
memory.  Even during the funeral he had heard the whispers. How he hated
going back to that town!

Pastor
Graham had tried to call once or twice, and had even continued to drop him a
Christmas card each year throughout college, but Steve had made no effort to
reply. All he wanted to do was to block out anyone who was in any way connected
to his senior year.  He just wanted to forget!

Steve
took a couple of deep breaths and slowly felt his self-control return. He
walked back to the grassy beach that bordered the lake, forcing himself to nod
pleasantly to several of the tourists, and then walked down the path that led
to the boathouse.  It was shady there, and Steve leaned against one of the
posts as he sipped the rest of his water.  He tossed the plastic bottle
into a recycling bin and resumed his patrol back to the beach and up to the
parking lot, brooding over his encounter with Deborah.