That Face in the Clouds

"A fishing trip will be good for you," Mrs. told her son. "This is your chance to get back in the woods. So scoot."

 

James knew his mom was right, since dad wasn’t around anymore. They used to fish a lot, but then he died suddenly. The boy didn't know his neighbor that well, even if James did deliver his morning paper. In fact, he couldn’t even spell the guy’s name, let alone pronounce Carpentier. He was a friend from Quebec that mom knew. 

 

Now here he was, staring at his woodland surroundings. Scotch thistles tore at his jeans, and deer flies dive-bombed his head. Of course, he forgot his hat. Surely mosquitoes must have drained a pint of his blood. Why did he agree to come anyway?

 

James felt like, ‘Son of Caveman’ walking through heavy bush; climbing mountains of rock and watching a river swirl at the bottom of this hill. It didn’t seem natural being away from sidewalks and a house with TV, and no jabbing deer flies checking out your blood type. Right about now, James missed him.

 

As he stood up a twig tried to scratch his eye out. And his jeans were damp. The man told him early morning dew is never dry, and followed up with a chuckle. The boy didn’t think it was very funny. Yes, James knew he was smart for his age, but not smart enough to figure out a good excuse to stay home.

 

"COOOMMMMIING?" The voice plunged like a Roman spear, as it hurled toward him, from below the hill. James cringed as he moved to the edge of this rocky ridge. Does he think I'm a mountain goat? The man below looked like a midget. How did he make it down there? Maybe he had a parachute.

 

"No way!" the boy shouted, looking at the fifty-foot drop.

 

"It's not that bad," the man answered. "Come on. I'll help…unless you're afraid."

 

"You think I’m a scared-cat?" the boy shot back. But he was afraid. No so long ago he fell off a ladder trying to get their cat stuck up a tree. Dad said to wait. But James didn't. His back end still ached thinking about it.

 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say it that way!" the man yelled up.

 

"Okay! Coming!" James hollered back.

 

The man came up part way and guided James down the slippery shale all the way to the Debert River shore. It was magnificent seeing where the narrow waterway wore a path through the rocky cliff. Their eyes feasted on the current tumbling down and down until disappearing around a corner. “Speckled trout are in all those waterfalls too," Mr. Carpentier said.

 

"Why do people like to catch fish anyways?" James huffed. "Besides, they stink." The man pretended not to hear the boy's comments. He wasn't going to allow the peaceful spell of the outdoors be spoiled.

 

"Well?" James was being ignored and didn't like it. Not one tiny bit. "All I see is lots of bush and rock," he added.

 

"This place is magic," the man answered. "You'll see."

 

"I'm going to sit right here and not move. You can't make me fish in that river. Keep your old worms. Why did you bring me here anyways?"

 

“You did made the decision to come.”

 

“Well, I changed my mind,” the boy snapped. Hey, what's wrong with this guy? He's smiling. Even after all the mean things James had said. He knew Mr. Carpentier was just trying to be nice. "I'm sorry for being mean. This was the second time today he had apologized. If mom were here, she would have fainted. It was confusing. Dad should be here, not this stranger.

 

Mr. Carpentier slowly answered, "I accept your apology. Now I hope you're old enough to listen and stay in one spot.”

 

Just the way dad would have said it, James agreed.

 

“A person could get lost wandering around. I'll be up ahead. When you're ready to fish, call me."

 

"Okay." James watched Mr. Carpentier move away, deftly casting a wiggling worm into pockets of current along the way. His floppy hat brim swept up and down from the wind. Then James was alone. What to do? He looked at the river. “Magic,” the man had said.

 

"KERPLUNK!" James’ rock skipped four times. After awhile it got boring. What do you do for an encore after wrist-shooting about 25 flat stones? James watched a crow flapping upwards to a crevice in the cliff. The other side must be almost a hundred feet up, he figured. The river wasn't very wide. Indeed, it was mostly full of little waterfalls, where the current bumped and scraped over boulders sending splashes of white skyward. He had to admit it looked awesome.

 

A squirrel raced along the bank towards him. Stopping suddenly it ripped off in the opposite direction. But James wouldn’t hurt it. In fact, he was the one who was nervous. His noisy façade simply masked feelings of dad leaving so suddenly. 

 

James was fearful of swimming in water over his head, yet felt comfortable by this river. He was also nervous about climbing any high places, even hiking in the wild woods. It was something he and dad talked about.

 

Mom must have told Mr. Carpentier about his fears. Is that why his neighbor brought him to this remote place? All his thinking caused the boy to be sleepy. He laid his head on the nearest soft rock, and closed his eyes. Ah, just for a moment. Sunshine was soothing and the scent of wild roses bathed the sleeping child. James dreamed mom was giving him a goodnight kiss. He thought about dad. James missed him so much. If only he were here. It wasn't fair he had to die.

 

Time seemed to stand still as images and memories danced in his mind. Suddenly, James opened his eyes. Where was he? He was so rested. As his eyes began to focus he saw a man coming towards him. James recognized the glasses and floppy hat. It was Mr. Carpentier.

 

"Feeling alright?"

 

I think so," the boy answered, wiggling the fingers from his left hand. It had fallen asleep after being used as a pillow.

 

"Let me help you up” and James accepted the firm grip.  

 

"Thanks."

 

"Want to try some exploring?" the man asked.

 

"Sure," James answered eagerly.

 

Both sloshed along, wearing sneakers in the river’s edge. James couldn't believe how 'cool' this was. And the bug juice Mr. Carpentier gave him actually kept the little vampires away. "This is neat" James spoke loudly.

 

"Lots more to come," the man added. They rested on a fallen tree aside the shore. James listened intently to the man’s tales of camping and fishing. And how, when the man’s children were young, similar treks had been made here. James absorbed tales of animals seen in the forest, especially why they should be respected and protected.

 

He gasped as a whitetail deer leaped over some driftwood, a short distance away. The animal seemed to float through the air. As the afternoon slowly moved along, James was relaxed. For some strange reason he didn't feel angry as before. Maybe this was a magic place.

 

“Ready to go on?” the man asked.

 

"Okay if I sit here, a couple of minutes?" James almost pleaded. The man nodded and walked a short distance away, giving the boy some privacy.

 

James saw how easily the man cast his fishing line. Must have had lots of practice he thought. He also wondered if he could ever be like Mr. Carpentier, to have fun, not worry so much. Like always expecting to get A's in school, or being a fast runner to escape bullies.

 

He had a whole list of wishes, including how to swim. And it would be great not to be afraid of so many things. Maybe his neighbor would teach him how to be brave?

 

"HEEYYY, MR. CARPENTIER! Wait for me!" James startled himself as the words roared. It felt good running through the shallow part of the river by himself. Water exploded in all directions as he rushed forward. It didn’t even bother him when his jeans got soaked again.

 

Just before reaching the waiting man, something caused him to stop and turn. Looking back, he sensed someone watching. Yes, he was sure of it, an outline of a face in the clouds. He knew it was dad. And he was smiling.