The Rift

PART TWO

 

 

 

 

 

M6

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-TWO

 

 

 

 

 

I shall advise all those descending the river not to take the right hand of Island No. 38, as it appears entirely choked up with drift and rafts of sawyers. When through these bad places the worst is over, only fuller of snags, but mind well the directions in the Navigator and there will be no danger. Run the Grand Cut-off No. 55, in all stages of the water, and hug close the right hand point, this pass is good. Take the left of St. Francis No. 59, left of No. 62, right of large sand bar and Island No. 63, and right of No. 76, in all the different stages of the water. All these channels are much the best and safest. Should this be the means of saving one boat load of provisions to an industrious citizen, how amply shall I feel rewarded for noting this, whilst with gratitude I acknowledge the obligation we as boatmen are under to you for your useful guide, that excellent work The Ohio and Mississippi Navigator, much to be valued for its accuracy and geographical account of this immense country.

 

I have the honor to be, gentlemen, your sincere friend and humble servant.

 

James Smith (February 18,1812)

 

 

 

 

 

Bored out of his mind, Jason strolled on the hatches of Beluthahatchie’s barges. Then he heard a yell, and turned to see one of the crew waving from the pilothouse.

 

“Hey, Jase! Your dad’s on the radio!”

 

Jason’s heart gave a lurch. He sprinted aft, jumping from one barge to the other until he clambered aboard the towboat and ran to the pilothouse. He grabbed the handset, raised it to his lips. He gasped for breath, spoke. “Dad?”

 

Jason’s heart hammered a half-dozen times before the answer came. “Jason?” His father’s intent voice. “Are you there?”

 

“Yeah, Dad. It’s me.”

 

“You’re still on the boat. The Beulaz-something.”

 

“Beluthahatchie.”

 

“I’ve been trying to get through to you for days. All the marine radio operators are jammed up with thousands of messages ...”

 

“Frank,” Una’s insistent voice, breaking in on another line. “Ask how he is.”

 

“I’m fine,” Jason said. “Got a little sunburned, that’s all.”

 

There was another little pause. Jason realized that Frank and Una were still far away, maybe still in China.

 

“I was so sorry to hear about Catherine,” Una said.

 

Jason was silent. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

 

“Are you still in China?” he said finally.

 

Another pause. “Yes. In Guangzhong. If you’ll get a pen, I’ll give you the number of our hotel.”

 

Despair floated through Jason as he jotted down the number. The least his father could have done was flown to the States.

 

“Are they treating you okay on the boat?” Frank Adams asked.

 

“Oh sure. Everyone’s been real nice. They’re letting me and Nick use their radio whenever we like.”

 

“Nick?” There was a flicker of intent interest in Frank’s voice. “Who is this Nick, exactly?”

 

Jason wondered where to start. “He’s a refugee, Dad. I found him on the river.” He paused, then added, “He’s about your age, I guess.” Trying to demonstrate that Nick was a responsible citizen, not someone who was going to lead him into trouble.

 

He knew better than to report that Nick was black, had been shot by a cop, and had been found in a tree. This would not boost his father’s confidence in his choice of traveling companion.

 

“And you traveled together,” Frank said.

 

“Yes. For a couple days. He’s been trying to get to his daughter in Arkansas.”

 

“And you were in a boat? Was this Nick’s boat?”

 

“Uh, no.”

 

So Jason had to explain about his neighbor’s bass boat, and how he’d used it to get off the Indian mound and gone down the river without meaning to. And met Nick the next morning.

 

“So you were on the boat for two days?”

 

“Well, not that boat. We got another boat later.” The memory of stranding Junior and his friend on the Lucky Magnolia was too wonderful to resist, so Jason told his father what happened, how he and Nick had found themselves on the casino boat with the two thieves, and how they’d stolen their powerboat.

 

“And Nick let you do this?” Frank Adams said. Jason was surprised by his father’s frigid tone.

 

“Well,” Jason said, “he didn’t stop me.”

 

“I can’t believe he put you in so much danger.”

 

Jason licked his lips, tried to get his thoughts in order. “He really didn’t have much to do with it, Dad.”

 

“Well, he should have.”

 

“This Nick doesn’t sound like a very responsible person,” said Una.

 

“He didn’t know,” Jason said, “that there were thieves on board.”

 

“He just let you walk into this danger?” Frank demanded. “Of all the stupid, thoughtless ...”

 

“Nick’s really okay, Dad.”

 

“He is not okay.” Firmly. “I don’t know what the man was thinking of.”

 

“I—” Jason groped for words. “You’ve got it wrong, Dad.”

 

Frank went on as if he hadn’t heard. “Now where is this boat you’re on? This Beulah Hatchie, or whatever.”

 

“Well,” Jason said. “We’re somewhere south of Helena. But the boat’s aground on a sandbar at the moment.”

 

“It’s what?”

 

“But it’s okay,” Jason said. “It’s not sinking or anything. It’s just that the river changed, and—”

 

Frank Adams snorted. “I don’t know how a river can change,” he said.

 

“If you were here,” Jason said, “you’d know.”

 

Frank sounded as if he were trying very hard to be patient. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re stranded. You’re not going anywhere.”

 

“I don’t think the captain sounds very competent,” Una contributed.

 

“He’s fine, Una,” Jason said. “The boat’s going to Cincinnati when we can get it afloat. And that shouldn’t take too long, the captain says, because the river’s rising.”

 

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, then,” Frank said. “When you get to Cincinnati, there will be a ticket waiting for you. And then you’ll fly to Syracuse, and your aunt Stacy will be waiting for you.”

 

“Aunt Stacy?” Jason couldn’t believe he was hearing this. His aunt Stacy, who was actually his great-aunt, lived in upstate New York. Though she was kind, he couldn’t see spending the whole summer with her. She was elderly and didn’t get out much, and where she lived there was nothing to do.

 

“Why can’t I come to California?” he asked.

 

“Our apartment is really too small for a family, Jason.”

 

Horrid visions of staying forever with Aunt Stacy flashed through Jason’s mind. “Wait a minute!” he said. “I was coming in August.”

 

“That was just for two weeks, Jason,” Una said. “If you’re coming to stay for good, we’ll need more room.”

 

Hatred blazed in Jason’s heart. He had never hated anyone so much as he hated Una in that instant.

 

“Una and I will look for a house,” Frank said. “We’ll have it all ready for you when it’s time to start school in the fall.”

 

Jason was appalled. “I don’t even get to see you?” he said.

 

“I can’t come,” Frank said. His voice was almost a shout. “They won’t let me come and get you.”

 

Jason blinked. “What?”

 

“The government isn’t letting anyone fly into the quake zone!” Frank’s voice was almost a shout. “They aren’t letting phone calls in. You can fly out, you can call out if you need help, but I can’t get in to you. They won’t let me come!”

 

There was a moment of silence. Jason could hear atmospherics hissing from the radio speaker.

 

“Once you get to Syracuse, I’ll come see you,” Frank said. “They’ll let me fly there. But in the meantime the only way I can talk to you is to get a radio operator to try to call your boat.”

 

“Fly me to California,” he said. “I don’t want to go to New York.”

 

“We’ve been into that. There’s no room in our apartment. I’ve talked to Aunt Stacy, and it’s all arranged. Now could you hand the receiver to the captain of the Beulah-whatever, so I could talk to him?”

 

“He’s not in the pilothouse at the moment.”

 

“Could you go get him, then?”

 

From the sound of it, Jason’s father planned to give Captain Joe some orders.

 

Which he did. Captain Joe opened the conversation with a cheerful, “Hi, y’all,” but soon fell silent as Jason’s father began to speak. This went on for some time.

 

When the conversation was over, Joe put his arm around Jason’s shoulders and walked with him down the companionway. “Your poppa’s got a lot of opinions,” he said.

 

“Yeah,” Jason said. “I know.”

 

“He wants me to keep you away from Nick. He seems to have something against that man.” He gave Jason a look from under one bushy eyebrow. “Is your poppa prejudiced or something?”

 

“No,” Jason said. “He’s a lawyer.”

 

Captain Joe nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Now I understand.”

 

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