For a full minute, all I heard were the sounds of water lapping the sides of the canoe’s metal hull, and birds calling from the trees.

“I don’t like tense silence,” Danetta said. “Somebody sing a song or something.”

“I’m fresh out of bouncy tunes,” I said.

“I’ve heard pulling a gun on somebody will do that to you,” Danetta said.

Chura started humming a fast song that repeated its main melody about every 10 seconds.

“Okay, let’s not trade for tense noise,” Danetta said.

We approached a shallow spot that ran the width of the river. I carefully stood to get a better look at the rapids, searching for the best “V” shape. From experience on past jumps, I knew that indicated the deepest water. “Okay, see that ‘V’ over there to the left? I’m going to steer us over there, and we’re going right down the mouth. Chura, keep an eye out. Chethra, keep us moving so the current doesn’t take us to the wrong spot before we get over there.”

“Aye-aye, skipper,” Chura said.

I stabbed my paddle into the water and cut it to turn us. Chethra reached out her paddle and pulled a strong stroke. Tiny turtles on a log, nervous at the sight of a boat full of humans coming toward them, slid into the water.

The current pulled us straight downstream. “Chethra, let your sister take over. We need paddling on the right side.”

They fumbled the handoff, and the paddle thumped the canoe floor. “Dammit!” Danetta shouted as she retrieved it.

“Falcon, we’re not gonna make it!” Chura yelled.

I said, “Sure we are,” but I wasn’t sure at all.

I started paddling too, on the right side. “More, Danetta, more!”

“I don’t have anymore,” she said, wildly splashing water each time she finished a stroke.

About a boat’s length shy of our target, we hit the rapids sideways. The canoe ran aground with a muffled crunch of gravel and pitched hard to the right. Danetta fell out.

“Aunt Danetta!”

She wasn’t moving. The water was shallow, but its relentless rush covered her face. Chethra jumped out after her, completing the riverbottom’s job of tipping us over. Chura and I went over the left side of the canoe, into slightly deeper water. I somehow kept a hold on my paddle.

The water rushed into the canoe and kept pushing it downstream. “Chethra, watch it!” I shouted. It slammed into her, knocking her over onto Chura, then slid over both of them, pinning them under water. It ground to a halt a few feet downstream.

After I threw my paddle ashore, Chura and I reached them and worked to pull Chethra off Danetta. Chethra was dazed, but able to stay upright on her knees. I lifted Danetta’s head out of the water. Loose pebbles rolled off her face and plopped into the river. A few remained stuck alongside bright red dimples riddling her cheek.

“Falcon! Help her!” Chura was hysterical.

“I’m trying,” I said.

Chethra was alert enough to get to her feet and help me drag Danetta to shore. The remaining turtles slid from their log.

We laid her on the tall grass, flat on her back. Chethra put a hand on each side of Danetta’s face and tilted her head back slightly, then put her mouth to hers and blew. She overlapped her hands on Danetta’s chest and pushed down as if trying to break her breastplate. Five times she did that, saying aloud “one-one-thousand” for each. After another breath, Danetta coughed violently and vomited. Chethra rolled her on her side to keep her from choking on it.

“Oh shit! Is that supposed to happen?” Chura asked.

“Sometimes, resuscitating breaths go into the stomach,” Chethra said.

Danetta coughed and gagged between long, gasping breaths.

“She should be fine,” Chethra said.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Danetta groaned.

I pulled the BFG out of my pocket.

“Hey, wait, I’m coming around,” Danetta said through another round of coughing.

I turned it over a few times in my hands to check it for damage. Ruger claimed it was waterproof, but I never had taken it swimming to test that claim. “Don’t panic. I’m just giving it a once-over.” I raised it and aimed it at a boulder.

“Are you going to discharge that thing right now?” Chethra asked.

“I need to know if it works. Having a gun that doesn’t work is worse than having no gun at all,” I said. I saw worry in their stares. “I don’t plan to shoot anybody.”

I pulled the trigger and felt the kick. The top of the rock disappeared in a cloud of fragments and dust, accompanied only by the sounds of rock crumbling onto fallen leaves.

“Yep, she’s still hot,” I said.

“What hurts?” Chura asked Danetta.

With Chethra and Chura’s help, she sat up slowly. “Anything you can see, and everything you can’t,” she said. “What the hell happened?”

I put the BFG back in my pocket as I explained. “We crashed. You fell out and bumped your head, then almost drowned while your sister and a canoe full of water crushed you. Then, we dragged you to safety. Again.”

“That’s about what it feels like,” she said.

Danetta winced when Chura reached out to touch her wrecked cheek. After some teeth clenching, they worked together to remove the embedded pebbles. Blood trickled from some of the uncovered spots.

I felt I should do something. My first inclination was to tell them all we needed to get moving. Danetta was only a couple minutes from her unconscious state at the bottom of a river, so that was not a good thing to point out at the moment. I liked Danetta, but I could feel distance between us since the incident back at the Beers cabin. Situations like that were not my strong point; I had never bothered making good with a woman after things even hinted at going south. Once her ire was raised, I got out. Damned if I didn’t care what Danetta thought about me. It frustrated me and made me feel like a bumbling kid, so I had shut out my feelings.

Thinking of nothing to say, I got on my knees behind her and started rubbing her shoulders.

“Wow. That feels great,” she said.

“We can’t tarry,” Chethra said. I could always count on Chethra to keep us practical. “As soon as you feel you can sit in a canoe again, we need to get moving. Falcon, where are we going to take out?”

“Tarry? Come on, Mom. Be a person for once,” Chura said.

“The first bridge we see. Maybe there will be a car or two parked there.” I said.

“Can someone else drive while Falcon keeps doing this?” Danetta asked. As my hands continued working, she began slowly rolling her head in circles.

“Not again,” Chura said.

“Dammit!” Danetta said.

“What?” I asked.

“I lost my paddle.”

“We might see it again. If not, we’ll be alright. I’ll just have to make sure I look at what’s coming sooner than I did that time.” I said.

A few more minutes of rest, and we all trudged through the water to the canoe. Careful to make sure nobody got downstream of it, we managed to roll it over and empty it. Then we picked it up and, holding it tight, set it afloat. I checked the bottom for gushing leaks, and saw none.

“Looks like the boat came out okay,” I said.

We pulled the canoe over near shore, where I retrieved my paddle, then walked it down to a more placid spot. One at a time, we carefully climbed in before I pushed us off.

“Hey! The other paddle!” Chura shouted. There’s my spotter.

In a backwater area on the left bank, we saw it. I guided the canoe over to the spot and Chura grabbed it. She handed it to Chethra, who suggested that Danetta sit out of the way on the floor of the canoe to allow her to paddle on either side. They agreed that our injured crewmember was in no shape to exert herself, and, after all, her track record wasn’t very good. On a long pool now, we had time for her to move and get as comfortable as possible.

The sound of an engine interrupted us. We all looked upstream for the source. Sounds of breaking branches and rustling leaves joined the engine’s chorus, and then we saw the Beers boy on his motorcycle, on the opposite side of the river. He wound his way around trees and brier patches until he was directly across from us. He stopped and shut off the engine.

“Hey, you!” he shouted. “You’re not gonna get very far on the river.”

What was this kid doing? I had just pointed a gun at his father. I was glad he hadn’t seen me fire the BFG at that rock.

“Sheriff’s got people movin’ in,” he said.

I was hesitant, because it could be a trap. “Maybe he sent you,” I said.

“No way. While he was talkin’ to my Daddy and gettin’ on his radio, Momma sent me off to find you.” He dismounted the bike and leaned it against a tree. “Who are you, anyhow? And what was that lady sayin’ about you killin’ my daddy?”

I thought surely I must have mis-judged the boy’s age. He had to be older than 10.

“She just doesn’t like violence,” I said. “Listen, if we’re in so much danger of being caught, then why are you here? To help us?”

“That’s what I was thinkin’.” He looked at Chura. “You’re cute. I don’t meet any girls that look like you.”

There it was. The motivation for and downfall of countless men. A woman who catches his eye, somehow stands out from the rest, makes him do things his mind would not entertain otherwise. Every era of human existence had its own epic stories of such actions. Until then, my main concern for Chura had been her safety. Now, it seemed she might help our cause. Poor kid. If he helped us successfully, then not only would he never date Chura, he would never see her again. If he failed, then he might have to watch her die. He was in a lose-lose situation.

I whispered to the ladies, “I think this kid might be stricken.”

Chura blushed. “He’s kinda cute too,” she said.

“We probably are trapped if we stay on the river much longer,” Chethra said. “They will stake out the bridges.”

I looked back at the boy. “So, you can lead us out of here, help us find a car?”

“Yes, sir. There’s a trailhead real close. Might be some parked there. Better hurry while you’re still ahead of the sheriff.”

“Hold on, son. We’re coming over,” I said. Chethra and I started paddling.

Danetta spoke up, in a hoarse whisper. “Falcon, if that kid puts himself in harm’s way for us, it could screw up everything. George Beers might never be born.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to take him with us. Besides, I don’t know how else to get out of here. If we tried to make it on foot on our own, we could be out here going in circles for hours.”

“Whoo. The closer you get, the prettier you get,” the boy said. “Ain’t many girls around here can say that.”

The boy walked to the water’s edge and reached to take Chura’s hand to help her debark. She accepted and stepped out.

“Ma’am, you okay?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Danetta.

“Yes, I’m fine, thanks,” she said, then followed her sister to the front of the canoe.

(continue to Part Eighteen)