Lost Souls Read online

  “How is it?” he wondered aloud.

  “Well let me put it to you this way, if you still want to stay here, I will gladly forget about the waterfall and just agree to be your slave all weekend as long as you supply me with this coffee and these sandwiches…” she giggled.

  “That good huh?” he said as he reached into the bag and grabbed the last sandwich ripping off the top half of the paper and taking a huge bite. “Mmmmmm, oh my God, can we kidnap this guy and force him to come with us and be our cook for the weekend?”

  Marissa laughed and said “You won’t get an argument from me, but I don’t think that trailer is going to go down the 200 stair drop there.”

  “True, true,” he conceded, “but wouldn’t it be great if it could? This food is either exquisite or I am so hungry anything would taste delicious right about now. How could we have gone to bed with no dinner last night? What was I thinking?”

  “You weren’t thinking,” she laughed again, “you were sleeping. I came out from the shower and you were out like a light, snoring even. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you even enough to pull the covers over you. You must have been beat.”

  “I guess I was,” he agreed. “Must have been all of that slave labor you had me do, packing up the Jeep and going up and down the stairs so many times. This old bod isn’t used to all of that physical labor anymore.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah right,” she answered, lightly slapping his shoulder. “That “old bod” of yours still looks mighty fine to me,” she winked.

  “Well, let’s get on our way and see how it performs today getting all of this stuff down to a campsite.”

  “I can’t wait!” she replied, anxious to be on their way now that she had a full belly and a nice hot cup of coffee in the cup holder. “Here we go!”

  And off they went.

  ***

  THE SUN WAS just starting to peak over the trees they could see off in the distance which Dalton was sure was Judge Magney State Park. He was glad it wasn’t high enough yet to be glaring in his eyes. The headache he had woken up to had subsided with the food Marissa had gotten and he figured that skipping dinner last night was probably what had caused it in the first place. As the smell of the outdoors wafted in through the windows, he couldn’t help but think maybe he was more of an outdoorsman than he’d previously thought. He inhaled the mountain air deeply into his lungs and fleetingly thought he could get used to this. He glanced at the clock and seen it was now 6:15. There was still plenty of time for getting there and hiking in to where they wanted to set up.

  They pulled into the lot of the state park and were surprised to see that for this time of year, there were quite a few people who’d apparently had the same idea they’d had. Probably a last ditch effort to get some camping in while the weather was still nice and above freezing. He noticed about twenty other cars parked there and could see several trailers set up farther back. They got out and headed over to the concrete remains of what they learned was left over from displaced workers who had headed there during the depression to build the trails. It had a sign with information on how far in it was to different points in the park. Wandering around Dalton was also happy to see that there were modern showers and that they looked clean and well taken care of. Eventually he made his way over to the woodshed where a ranger had settled in long enough to sell some wood to those who wanted it.

  “We won’t need any of that,” Marissa said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, horrified. “How will we start a fire and cook and stay warm at night?”

  Laughing she shook her head and told him they would be gathering up twigs and wood around the area they decided to camp in. It would be far too heavy to carry wood as well as all their gear she explained. He had to admit she was right, but he certainly wasn’t too happy about it.

  “That wood is more for the people who want to camp close to the parking lot, in the trailer park and such. We are going in way farther than that.”

  Dalton could tell she was making fun of him but he didn’t care. He loved the luxuries of life. The electricity, the running water, the big fluffy towels you got from dryers, and whether she liked it or not, he hated the thought of having to lug all this stuff as far into the forest as they planned to go. Thank God his headache was gone. He knew he’d never have been able to carry all of their stuff with that thing raging in his head. He pulled out the backpack full of camping gear while Marissa switched out her running shoes for her sturdy hiking boots. He made sure they had a good supply of wooden matches in the front pocket of the backpack before grabbing the smaller backpack for Marissa to carry. He remembered to look in the tackle box to be sure the hunting knife was in there and was relieved to see it was, so was the bear mace he had picked up just in case. It never hurt to be prepared; Boy Scouts had at least taught him that.

  Thinking they were as ready as they would ever be, he locked up the Jeep and they started towards the trail that would take them to the Upper Falls on the Brule River. Excitement replaced the dread of having to hike in so far and he couldn’t wait to see this oddity they called Devils Kettle. Neither of them had ever heard of it before watching that movie, but ever since, it had seemed to call out to both of them. Dalton dreamt of it often and it found its way into his thoughts almost every single day. When he told Marissa of his obsession, she had admitted to him that she’d felt the same way, and that was all it had taken for her to start planning the trip.

  The smell of pine permeated every other smell except for the raw odor of the soil. It was so pungent and fresh Dalton knew immediately he would be sleeping like a baby that night. Granted, the hike and the rushing sound of the river they hoped to camp close to wouldn’t hurt either. A light sweat had already broken out on his brow causing him to think he had better start dedicating more time to his gym membership than he had been since meeting Marissa. It was easy to let yourself go once you were involved with someone and feeling secure in the relationship. Poor excuse, but people did it all the time. He didn’t want to count himself as one of them and made a mental note to get back on it once they returned to Tolono, Illinois. With a population of just under 1,200 when he’d first moved there, it had been like moving to a different universe. When you compared where he came from, Detroit, to this sleepy little town, the difference was like night and day. Marissa had been raised in Tolono but he’d made his way there after getting tired of the crime and overcrowding that had practically forced him out. He’d been offered a job there six years ago and had gotten out while the getting was good. He’d never looked back. He loved it there and couldn’t remember a single day that he regretted his decision to relocate. Meeting Marissa had just been the proverbial icing on the cake.

  Ahead of him, she hummed to whatever song she was listening to on her iPod and he watched the rhythmic sway of her hips while she walked over the uneven ground. Up further he noticed the downward slope that would lead them to the staircase that eventually would take them down to the Brule River. He thought he could hear the rush of the water already but that was probably more wishful thinking than reality. They still had at least another hour of trail to go before they got to where they wanted to be, maybe even closer to two hours if they decided to hike in further. Dalton was glad he’d left his iPod at home and instead enjoyed listening to the sounds of nature. He could hear a woodpecker drilling away at a tree in the distance looking for his breakfast. The sound seemed to echo so he wasn’t really sure which direction it was coming from, but he kept his eyes open looking up into the trees hoping to catch a glimpse of it. He also kept his eyes open for deer or even foxes and bears. You never knew what you might run into in a state park. Although he’d voiced his worry about bears, he had read that in the summer and early fall they tended to stay away from humans and rely instead on the vast resources the river offered them. From what he’d read on the website, the river was full of Chinook salmon and brown trout which would make for a nice feed while they were camping. He couldn’t think of much th
at tasted better than a pan fried trout cooked over an open fire. His mouth was drooling just thinking about it.

  Marissa stopped suddenly, with him almost crashing into her, and immediately he was on the alert. Instead, when he looked up, what lay before them was nothing short of amazing. Spread out in a panoramic view, was a painting of glorious colors, of blue skies and puffy white clouds. The pine trees seeming to reach to the heavens, and the leaves on the oak and maple bursting with colors even more glorious than the ones they had seen at the motel. As it turned out, they had been walking along side the river the whole time. It wound its way through the trees and long grass and almost to the edge of the horizon where it dropped away into what he imagined was “the waterfall.” They both just stood at the top of that staircase taking in what seemed to be a painting God himself had created just for them. Her hand crept into his and she turned to him and whispered in a voice full of awe…

  “It’s stunning!”

  “It really is.” Dalton readily agreed.

  They looked down at the array of clearings that would make a good campsite for them and she pointed to one close to the bottom of the stairway. He shook his head and pointed to one even farther on down, closer to the waterfall they had come to see. It was far from the stairway but worth the hike. Marissa nodded her head in agreement and he began to make his tremulous way down the two hundred step stairway that would lead them down to ground that was level with the river. He grasped the railing and turned his body sideways hanging on for dear life. He had been walking like an old man, crouched over with the weight of the backpack and did not like the vision that kept running through his head of him laying at the bottom of the staircase twisted and dead. He felt like one of those cartoon characters who carried their house on their back, literally. He heard a song, being sung ever so lightly, almost a chant, and wondered if a local Indian tribe had come in to do some kind of ritual over the long weekend. The farther down they went, the louder it became, although it still was barely above a whisper. Dalton looked at Marissa to see if she heard it as well but it was obvious she was oblivious to the sound. She had removed the earphones to her iPod and was peacefully enjoying the orchestra of noise from the birds hiding in the trees that surrounded them. As they approached the bottom of the stairway, he looked out across the vast river noticing that the water seemed a little rough. Deep in the middle, the color had changed to almost an inky black while along the sides the water foamed. As he took a few steps closer to investigate, he saw small tendrils of what seemed to be seaweed waving to him, beckoning to him, calling to him. He was powerless to do anything but move closer. The chanting he had heard earlier grew louder the closer he got to the river and he couldn’t help think the band of Indians must be camped out just across the water for him to hear them so clearly. Marissa had wandered about fifty yards ahead of him but now looked back with concern.

  “Dalton, you are getting way too close to the water. Move back a little, you’re making me nervous!” she shouted to him.

  He could hear her; in the back of his mind he understood she was right, but here and now, gazing down into that churning black water and hearing the chanting grow louder and louder, he was helpless to do anything but follow the urge that took him a step closer. Suddenly, almost all sound disappeared. He could hear nothing outside of the chanting and the rush of water and out of the corner of his eye he could see Marissa drop her backpack and start running towards him, reaching out to him, trying to save him from himself. He stared into the water, hypnotized, and seemed to fall into a deep, dark place, a place he did not want to be but seemed helpless to escape from. He seemed to lose all sense of balance as well as logic and leaned even further forward straining to see what it was that seemed to beckon to him. In the back of his mind, he could hear Marissa calling to him, now in a near panic, frantically begging him to get back from the edge. He felt the backpack shift, and not in a good way. He was helpless to stop the momentum that engulfed him and threw him into the raging water.

  With the weight of the backpack he thought he would sink, but miraculously the weight seemed to act as a buoy and he rushed along, gasping for air, grabbing at rocks, tree branches, anything he thought might stop him from his inevitable plunge down the Devils Kettle waterfall. Dalton tried to swallow down the terror that threatened to overwhelm him with no success. He could see Marissa stumbling alongside of the river, her arms desperately waving and reaching for him even though they both knew there was no chance that she would ever be able to grab him. Marissa was screaming and crying and watching in panic as he drew closer. As he teetered on the edge, their eyes made contact and held, both seeing the fear and desperation in each other’s eyes until finally, Dalton tumbled over.

  ***

  HE FELT LIKE a skydiver without a working parachute as he tried desperately to free his arms from the backpack to no avail. He gasped for breath as he was bounced like a pinball from rock to rock, from wall to wall. The backpack that had seemed so buoyant earlier and had held him afloat, now felt like a lead weight. Eventually, after falling for what seemed like an eternity, he now splashed down into a large water filled cavern. Down he went, sinking quickly, waving his arms and trying desperately to swim back up to the surface, as he’d sunk so far down he could see the bottom. Amazingly, he found he could breathe under the thick liquid whose texture seemed more like oil than water. He felt his back bow and his body slam against the backpack as he finally hit bottom, causing his back to feel like he had severed it at the T-7th vertebrae. He couldn’t believe he still had no trouble breathing. He felt like some new amphibious being that had been brought to life just as he had tumbled over the edge of Devils Kettle. He realized he must be in shock, in such a deep shock he couldn’t even muster the ability to panic. Quickly he sank, lower and lower, now even deeper than the water and sinking into the sand bed below until he felt the silica like granules making their way into his ears and nose and the corners of his eyes. Suddenly he re-found his ability to panic and he flailed his arms like a wild man trying to stop his progression to what seemed like the center of the earth. As his hope faded, as the feeling of being so overwhelmed and so overwrought overtook him, the darkness that came for him at last was a blessing, and he was relieved to finally be able to let go.

  ***

  SOUNDS OF NORMALCY reached Dalton’s ears as he slowly came to. Opening his eyes, he was stunned to find himself in a paradise beyond his wildest dreams. He had landed in a prone position due to the large backpack that was still stubbornly strapped to his back. Surely he was dead; there was no other way he could have ended up in such a paradise.

  To his left, a flock of peacocks with their tails fanned out in glorious splendor strutted around preening and cooing while to his right lay a den of lions. The females were yawning, looking bored and the males were sauntering around looking fierce and proud. Blinking hard didn’t erase the sight of one of the lionesses licking and caring for a newly born lamb. Impossible! Several young cubs frolicked in the grass chasing multicolored butterflies and grasshoppers that seemed to jump as high as he was tall. The color of the sky was like nothing he had ever seen before, the bluest blue Dalton had ever seen. Stars dotted the celestial heavens despite it being daytime and added a tranquil brilliance to it. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, so peaceful. He looked down at the straps still holding the backpack in place and struggled to undo the locking mechanism that held the two straps securely clasped together at the front of his chest. If he’d have carried his Swiss army knife in his front pocket instead of putting Marissa’s ring there, he might have been able to free himself before tumbling over the falls and into this strange land.

  He pushed the button on the front of the tab, while squeezing in the sides but it proved to be more difficult than he had expected. He squeezed harder and pushed in the tab until he thought it would break and was finally rewarded with the sound of it popping open. His shoulders were so sore he could barely move; he wouldn’t be surprised to find there wer
e broken bones or ripped tendons. He tentatively swung his arms back and forth trying to regain some other feeling in them besides the gut wrenching pain he was gritting his teeth against. He shrugged his shoulders up and down and rolled his neck around and around trying to get the kinks out of each muscle. Already he could see bruises forming on his ribcage on both sides from the straps of the backpack, as well as cuts that seemed to be either dripping blood or oozing some other bodily fluid. Dalton was almost afraid to know what was weeping from those pores.

  Looking around again he was convinced he was in heaven. The air was unbelievably pure and the color of everything was so vivid and beautiful it was almost beyond comprehension. Every sound seemed so crisp and clear, it was as if he could hear the slightest noise from miles away. Although there was now no water in sight, a huge blue heron flew majestically above him. He was startled as one of the male lions from nearby broke away from the others and wandered over to him rubbing his beautifully maned head up and down Dalton’s leg, purring like an oversized kitten. He rubbed his head like he would have a tabby and scratched his ears which brought forth a purr like he’d never heard before. For as far as he could see, there wasn’t a tree in sight. Where in the world could he be that didn’t have any trees? It wasn’t a desert, there was grass everywhere. Passing by the lions he was still wary, years of being afraid of them wasn’t going to change now just because one had let him scratch his ears. Like a child, Dalton gulped in mouthful after mouthful of the air, delighting in its purity, and not stopping until he made himself giddy. Once again he started to walk, dragging the cumbersome backpack behind him. He had no idea where he might be going or what he might run into but he knew he had to investigate this strange land and find some way to get back home. Home, such a simple word that meant so much, a word that evoked such a longing in him and he knew deep in his soul, he would either find a way back there, or die trying.