*
AS HE DROVE he kept a wary eye out in front and behind him. There was always the chance, although remote, that an over-eager park ranger would pull him over for speeding or simply note his presence in the park if questioned later. But like the entrance booth personnel, traffic rangers seemed to vanish from existence once the hotels and visitor amenities inside the park closed for the season.
So Ron kept right at the forty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit even though he was driving the only vehicle on the mountain road.
On the climb out of Mammoth Village toward the steaming terraced springs themselves, he said, “Recognize that sulfur smell, Kyle?”
The boy nodded.
“Yeah,” Ron said.
*
AS HE’D DONE dozens of times before, Ron drove right by the small battered sign on the side of the road that read POISON SPRINGS TRAILHEAD. The sign had deteriorated even since the last time he was there. It was leaning to the side and obscured in shadow from the close walls of lodgepole pine on both sides of the road.
He slowed the truck and Kyle looked over, puzzled.
“There’s a little parking area up here,” Ron said. “Or at least there used to be.”
It was still there. Ron turned off the two-lane onto a gravel road that cut into the pine trees. It went a hundred feet before doglegging to the right and leading them to a single concrete picnic table.
“It’s still here,” Ron said.
A dark squirrel sat on its haunches on the top of the table eating something between its tiny paws. When Ron stopped and pulled on the emergency brake the rodent ran off.
“Okay, we can get out here.”
He heard the tinkle of a tiny runoff creek through the trees in front of him, and there was a low rush of cold wind in the crowns of the lodgepole pines, enough to rock the trees back and forth slightly.
Slamming the door shut, Ron peered through the cab to make sure Kyle was coming. The boy was, but tentatively. That was okay, Ron thought. Better than Kyle thinking he might run away.
“Let’s just stand here for a few minutes and listen,” Ron said, gesturing with his chin toward the tops of the trees. “We need to make sure there’s nobody around and no cars coming.”
Kyle just stared at him over the hood of the truck.
There was no road traffic. There had been no cars parked alongside the road so it was doubtful any hikers would startle them coming out of the forest that late in the evening. Plus, Ron knew, this area was not among the highly trafficked trails that existed in other places in the park.
“Okay, come around on my side and help me pull it out.”
Kyle came around the front of the truck and stood with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
Ron opened the rear door of the cab and grasped the edge of the plastic tarp. It slid out of the truck and landed heavily on the ground.
“Close the door and pick up the other side,” Ron said. “We don’t have to carry it. We can slide it along the ground.”
Kyle shook his head.
“Come on, Kyle,” Ron said.
Kyle closed his eyes briefly but shut the truck door and bent over to grasp the plastic.
“Follow my lead,” Ron said, turning so he could pull the weight behind him instead of backpedaling. “It’s about two hundred yards.”
“What is two hundred yards?” Wha iz too-hunert yahds?
Ron again resisted the urge to mock Kyle’s speech defect. The boy wouldn’t be any help if he was crying. Plus, Ron knew what it felt like to be mocked. He was still ashamed at how quickly he’d fallen into that behavior pattern back at the cabin. It was as if mocking a boy had been hardwired into him at an early age.
There was no doubt where that had come from.
“It’s called Poisoned Springs for a reason,” Ron said. “I’ve been here many, many times.”
*
FIVE MINUTES INTO THE FOREST the trees began to look different. Instead of supple trunks with green needles the trees became stiff white posts. The dead branches above them opened up the sky.
Ron let go of the tarp and paused to get his breath back.
“Look,” Ron said to Kyle, rapping a white trunk with his knuckles, “This tree has turned to stone. Like it’s petrified. You can blame all the minerals just below the surface for that.”
Kyle was obviously intrigued. He stepped over to one of the stiff white trees and knocked on the trunk.
“Crazy things happen in this park,” Ron said. “Ninety-nine percent of the people who come here never get off the figure-eight road system. They don’t know there are petrified trees just out of sight or that there are natural hot springs filled with sulphuric acid.”
He bent to grasp a handful of the plastic tarp to pull the body the rest of the way. “Now be careful when we get close. The crust of the earth is really thin here. If you don’t watch where you step you could break right through it and scald your foot.”
The sulfur smell was strong as they closed in on Poisoned Springs. The spring itself was kidney shaped, twelve feet by twenty feet, and it was filled with clear sapphire-colored water that licked gently at the crusty edge of the opening. Wisps of steam curled from the surface of the hot water.
“Looks like you might want to take a bath in it, doesn’t it?” Ron asked. “Well, don’t. That acid will eat the flesh right off your bones.”
Ron inched closer to the opening. The brittle crust on the edge overhung the pool itself and it was difficult to see how far it extended into the water. He stopped several feet short of the edge and stood on the balls of his feet so he could see better into the cavern beneath the surface.
“There used to be a femur bone caught on a ledge on the side of it,” he said to Kyle. “Doesn’t look like it’s there anymore, which is good. I guess it finally dissolved away.”
“How many bodies are in there?” Kyle asked in his mush-mouthed way. It was a clinical question. Ron was pleased that he even understood the boy.
“Dozens.”
Kyle looked at him blankly.
“Don’t think about it. It’s just nature doing what nature does. Instead, think about helping me unwrap this thing. Then help me find a long pole. We’ll push it in with that. No way I’m gonna get any closer to the edge of that spring than I am now.”
Kyle’s face blanched with horror.
*
“KYLE, YOU LOOK PALE.”
Actually, the boy’s face in the diffuse light from the dashboard of the pickup looked pale green.
They were coming down the switchback road from Mammoth Hot Springs toward the north exit. Ron drove slowly and deliberately because there were no overhead highway lights in the park and animals could be anywhere.
“Are you all right?”
Kyle pulled his hood up tighter and looked out the passenger window.