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“Now? It’s freezing.” Hazel let her window down, too. “First thing, I’m going to walk over the river bar and stick my feet in that water,” she said. Nellie let the window down and inhaled pine-fresh air. When they got closer, the road followed the Klamath River, dark green water with patches of frothing riffles. Hazel joined, her voice flat but fearless. Wait, I love this song.” Hazel turned up the car stereo and a warbling pop star sang. “Jagged mountains, whispering forests, rivers. “What’s it like, where you were?” Hazel asked. At this rate, the drive would take less than two hours. Hazel drove fast, one hand on the wheel, the other holding a tall cup with a red straw. These days the river road was a paved two-lane highway with a double yellow line painted down the middle. The tribal administration office sent a Karuk college student named Hazel to pick her up at the regional airport.

What had once been a quiet riffle was now a wild tumble of white water.įirst a cab, then a train, then three airplanes with a long pause in between each flight. The air above them glittered with the spray. They shouted because the water pounded over rocks the size of cars. The woman traded a huge smile with him, her eyes wide with television wonder.

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“Our warriors will negotiate Match Falls,” the man on TV said. Nellie studied the television screen as if she might spot him on the bank, still waiting. She wasn’t ready to stay in one place, duty or not, not even for Mak. Then she ran, moving over the river rock and heading toward the dogs. She took a moment to memorize the sight of him, etched against the water. “I’ll come back,” she whispered, her heart pounding.

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Mak’s expression was full of love and longing. They stood in a clearing where the river poured down from a rocky gorge and into a deep blue pool. The dogs sounded closer, yipping with joy. Mak gave a confused smile and reached for her. They could stay in the living world and do good. “Here.” Mak’s breath was warm in her ear. There was order in the disorder without fanfare, one by one, the old ones transformed, creating the new world for the People. Mak kept an arm around her waist and coaxed her along that very river bar, steady and sure-footed over the smooth stones. In the distance, dogs barked and voices called across the changing landscape, “The People are coming. The old world retreated into a swirling mist their time was finished. The two of them, hand in hand, trembling with expectation during those last days. Sometimes a full range of seasons passed without her thinking of him for a single instant. The camera pulled back to show a tumble of rock and churning white water.

The server fiddled with the volume so Nellie missed what he said.īehind them, familiar dusty-green mountains stretched up into a clear blue sky. On TV a woman with a bright yellow helmet shouted, “Wild River Ultimate Warrior Challenge!” A man in a bright orange helmet stood next to her. The server worked controls behind the bar. Nellie flicked her eyes across the row of TVs. Her companion eyed the row of TVs above their heads. Last time it was a ski guide and a glorious month of après-ski. Their hands touched his hot fingers grasped hers. “Not long,” she replied, as if there was a plan. The server set bubbly orange drinks in front of them. A look of grief passed over his face but he agreed, and they squeezed into a spot near a window. She chose a crowded sports bar near a large tourist hotel. She intended to stay back, to find her own way, but he kept her close, his fingers plucking at her sleeve if she drifted from him. The trail continued downhill across a grassy slope with no cover. She held his gaze long enough to suggest her own.

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“Shall I join you?”Ī series of emotions crossed the guide’s face: concern, confusion, a flicker of interest. A woman came forward with a rectangular snack in a foil packet. Several of the hikers pointed their cameras at her. He took her elbow and guided her to the trail. “Not lost,” she said, forcing good nature into her voice. Nellie sighed and went to meet him, quick and sure-footed. Move along, but the guide left the trail, his compact but muscular legs surging energetically over the rocky ground. The consternation on his face bordered on comical.Ī delicious cold burst of wind swirled around them and, without intending to, she stepped back into it and skidded in the gravel. He did a funny wobble with his body, as if taking a few unsteady steps on a tightrope, then gestured her toward him. The steep slope under her feet was loose gray rock, treacherous for amateurs perhaps, but she’d been wandering terrain like this almost forever. His group, tourists with brimmed hats and walking sticks, stopped and stared with dull curiosity. He called out in Italian first, then English. Nellie kept moving, expecting to blend into the ridgeline, but the hiking guide spotted her.