I came back to the small stream we had crossed, jumping over the water and landing hard on the rocks. Then it was back into the pine trees, more darkness, more pine needles. I saw bear tracks all over the place.
And no boot prints.
Shit, I thought. Leave it to me to get lost walking back three miles to the goddamned cabin.
“All right, stay calm,” I said out loud. I didn’t sound very reassuring. I wasn’t fooling anybody. “Just retrace your steps a bit.” When I turned around there was nothing to see but trees. A million trees and no recognizable trail.
The plane got louder. It seemed to be circling overhead now, but I couldn’t see it through the branches. Maskwa must have flown right over the lake. He was probably scouting out the terrain up here along the north trail.
I took a few steps back the way I had come, following my boot prints, all the way back to the stream. The plane was north of me now, assuming I had any idea where north was anymore. I tried to locate the sun. “Okay, if the sun’s there,” I said. “It’s late in the morning, which means that south would be-”
Thataway, you stupid useless white man. I found our boot prints, right down the original trail. How I’d missed them coming over the stream, I had no idea. I kept walking, making a promise to myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone about my little detour. The plane was passing overhead once more. Again, I couldn’t see it through the trees, although this time I did see the plane’s shadow darken the sky for just a moment. The sound receded for a few minutes, and then stopped. They’re at the lake, I thought. They’re getting out, wondering where the hell we are.
I kept walking. They’re reading the note, maybe shaking their heads at our impatience. They’re settling down to wait for us. Or more likely they’re coming up this trail to find us. With lots of cold water, I hoped. All this walking through the woods, not to mention getting lost, was making me pretty damned thirsty.
I was about a mile away from the cabin at that point. As I came around each bend in the trail, I kept expecting to see them. But I didn’t. They must be unloading stuff from the plane, I thought. Or maybe they saw something else and went down a different trail. Which would mean I’d get there and find the place deserted, and wonder what the hell to do next.
I walked the last mile. The trail opened up to the cabin site.
There was nobody there.
“Ah, horseshit,” I said. “I knew it. They went off somewhere else. Now what the-”
I stopped. There was no plane at the dock.
I stood there for a full minute, trying to make sense of it. I had heard the plane in the air, had heard it land. I went over to the cabin and looked on the porch. The note was just where I had left it. I went to the dock and looked out at the lake. It was calm and empty. There was no sound at all. No wind. Nothing.
“What the hell?” The lake bent around to the right-maybe they had seen something on the far shore, and had landed the plane over there. I remembered the trail that Maskwa and I had explored the day before and how it had followed the curve of the shoreline.
I found that trail again and began walking. I moved fast. I wanted to find that damned plane so I could stop wondering, so I could get rid of this prickly little ball that was forming in my stomach. I flashed back on the way Maskwa had to muscle that flimsy old plane into the sky, how he just barely cleared the trees, how half the instrument panel fell right into his lap.
I moved faster. I was running now, trying to see through the trees. “Be there, God damn it. I want to see that plane.”
How old was Maskwa, anyway? He was Guy’s grandfather, so he had to be what? Sixty years old at least? Closer to seventy? And that plane, hell, for all I knew, it was just as old.
The trees opened up. I went up over a rock and landed in the shallow water. I didn’t even think about how cold it was on my feet. Where was that plane?
Guy got his Grandpere to fly us all the way up here in his tiny little airplane. They were the only people on this earth who even knew we were up here. And today…
I waded out into the lake, until I was standing up to my knees in the freezing water.
Lake Agawaatese was empty.
Chapter Thirteen
The water was so cold, my feet were already getting numb. I came back to the shore, climbed over the rock and landed on the trail. I had two wet boots now to go along with all the rest of my problems.
My problems, hell. If Maskwa and Guy went down in the woods-
I tried to replay it in my head. I had heard the plane above me. It seemed to circle and head back south, which meant it would have approached the lake from that direction. Which was more or less the exact direction I was walking. I hadn’t seen anything. I sure as hell hadn’t heard anything. Wouldn’t a crash make some sort of noise? Or would the trees just reach up and… God, catch them?
I headed back to the cabin site, squishing my way down the trail in my soaking boots. At some point, I’d have to make a fire and dry them out. Right after I found Maskwa and Guy sitting there on the porch of the cabin, having a good laugh. They had hidden their plane, just to play a joke on me.
Yeah, where’d they hide it, Alex?
“Holy fuck,” I said. “Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck.” I started to run again. That little ball of dread in my stomach, it felt like it was spreading through my entire body. I could feel it burning in my intestines, squeezing my lungs, and tightening all the muscles in my back.
When I got back to the cabin, I was fighting for breath. “Get a hold of yourself, Alex. You’ve got to think.”
Water, that was the first thing I needed. Get some water in your body, and then you can think straight. I went into the cabin. It was exactly as we had left it. The big pot was still on the propane stove. We had boiled our water there in the morning and covered it with a lid when we left. I picked the lid up, dipped a coffee mug in, and drank. I took a deep breath and then drained another cupful.
Okay, I thought. That’s good. That’s just what you needed. Now what?
Now you go out and start looking for that plane. It can’t be too far away. They may both be alive. They may both need your help, very badly.
Vinnie. I’ll go back up the trail. I’ll get Vinnie, we’ll come back down here, and we’ll find them.
Vinnie will need water, too, I thought. I looked around for something to carry it in. A canteen, a water bottle. Anything.
There was nothing like that. Just a few pots and pans, and a lot of garbage.
Plastic Coke bottles. That’s what I needed. I went back outside and grabbed two empty liter-size bottles from the cooler. I came back in and filled them. Okay, I thought. I’m ready. Let’s go.
When I was outside, I couldn’t help looking at the lake one last time before I started back up the trail. I stopped. As if I didn’t have enough to think about, another horrible thought came to me.
Could that plane have sunk?
No. No, it can’t sink. It has floats. That’s why they call it a floatplane, you idiot. It can’t sink.
I carried the two bottles of water, one in each hand. Find Vinnie, I told myself. Look all around while you’re walking. And find Vinnie.
I hurried up the trail, looking into the shadows on either side of me. I kept expecting to see the plane. I imagined seeing it leaning nose down against a big pine tree, one of its wings sheared off and lying on the ground next to it. I imagined it so hard I made myself see it, again and again.
Easy, Alex. I made myself slow down a notch. Blind panic wouldn’t help anyone at this point. I kept walking, a mile into the woods, over the stream, then another mile. For a moment I thought I caught the far-off sound of a bear again. It didn’t chill me to the bone this time. I had bigger problems now.