Normally, it takes four hours to climb Lost Arrow Spire, but it’s dark, and the path turns out to be steeper and more dangerous than I imagined. We take turns using the flashlights on our cell phones to illuminate the path. We climb an incredible number of steps carved into the rock, and every now and then, the trail winds its way through a landscape of low pines and rock formations. Arizona says something about bears and that we have to make noise, so we take turns calling out, “See you later, alligator,” and “After a while, crocodile.” It’s eerie how loud and far our voices travel through the night. Maybe River will even hear them.
I’ve been sweating since the Lower Falls, despite the cold, and I hear my sister panting next to me. The exertion has silenced her, and her breath paints white, misty flowers in the air. The climate and vegetation are pretty rugged, and it’s incredibly cold up here. We have to stop and look more closely at the path so that we don’t accidentally tumble down an unseen slope. I think Arizona is thinking the same thing I am—that it was crazy to set off in the dark without telling anyone. We pour icy water that tastes like the metal water bottle down our throats, and each time we swear that our esophagus freezes down to ourstomachs. But despite the sweaty climb and being distracted by Arizona, all I can think about is River.
Where is he? How sick is he? Is he sleeping or not? Who is he thinking about? June or me? Is he even thinking about any of us, or is he trapped in his guilt somewhere, too numb and paralyzed to notice anything of the world?
Why did you leave me alone? We were supposed to come here together.
That’s what hurts me the most, despite my fear. He set out alone, even though he asked me under the starry sky in Idaho if I would see it through to the end.
Starry-night-forever. I look up at the sky for a moment, spotting the swan spreading its wings wide.Are you ready to fly, Tucks?River whispers in my mind. The question scares me, and I increase my speed.
I don’t know how far we’ve been walking when dawn arrives. The forest and waterfalls suddenly light up as if from within. The light is a mixture of dull gold and coppery red, shimmering like mist between the pines and rocks. In places that offer a view of the valley, rays of the morning sun break off the gray ravines in all shades of gold. The spray of the Merced River, winding through the valley, sparkles like raining stars.
I can barely put one foot in front of the other, but we should be arriving soon. I wonder how anyone can even run a line if they’re so worn out from the climb. We find the next sign for the Upper Falls, and when we reach them, Arizona sinks down wearily onto a gray granite rock. There are few railings, and if someone is brave enough, they can balance along the cliffs in the entire area. “I swear I can’t go another step,” Arizona says, taking off her Chucks and examining her toes, which havedeveloped plump red blisters. Then she tosses her hair back and takes a selfie.
I look around. The Upper Falls only have a small amount of water because of the hot summer, but the dawn is still filled with a rushing sound, which, together with the morning mist, fills the air. If I weren’t so scared, I could enjoy it. At some point, I spot what I’ve been looking for—the sign for Lost Arrow Spire. It’s only about a mile away.
Still out of breath, I wipe the sweat from my forehead, but at the same time, I feel the coolness on my skin. Arizona’s white jeans are sticking to my legs, and I’ve long since unzipped her black jacket and her favorite white sweatshirt.
“I need a break,” Arizona says weakly. “I can’t move an inch. Just ten minutes.”
I don’t want to rush her, but fear and impatience are pushing me forward like a tailwind. I let my gaze wander again. “I’ll keep going,” I suggest. “It’s only a short way. You could text Dad and tell him where we are, if you have reception.”
“I already did. He was really upset. He said that the Davenports informed the police two hours ago. Maybe they just wanted to shift their focus to something that would grab even more attention—I don’t know. Anyway, the police have alerted the mountain rescue service. I’m afraid they’re already on their way.”
I have no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. If this place is swarmed with rangers or helicopters, River might look for another place. The urgent feeling inside me grows increasingly stronger. “I’ll go ahead. Be careful.”
“See you later, Little A!”
I keep walking. The trail on the ridge is sandy and surrounded by rocks and pines. Sometimes, the trees form tiny forests, and sometimes they retreat, leading me through a rocky desert. A gentle wind rises from the valley and caresses mycheeks. My legs ache, and every muscle hurts. Suddenly, my phone beeps. My battery is almost dead.Damn!
Zozoo replied.
Thanks for the info. Whatever you think you know about River or Asher, it’s just the tip of the iceberg. You asked about girl number three. It wasn’t his fault. He intercepted her, wanted to be her friend; he wanted to take away her childhood pain, but she fell in love with him. She was unstable. She would have done it one day anyway, I’m sure of it. She had tried so many times before. So, River may be many things; a musical genius, highly intelligent, terrifyingly empathetic—but he’s not a psychotherapist. He was devastated afterward, but he still couldn’t stop trying to save a girl. That’s part of his illness. Maybe it is his illness. I don’t know. Sam, Jasper, and I are coming to Yosemite today. I know Lost Arrow Spire. I pray he’s not there. If you find him, look after him! If he really believes he saved you...
I stop to read the message. The unfinished sentence ticks like a time bomb in my head. “I’m already on the way,” I reply via voice message. “I’m almost there.” This feeling of being so close to the finish line increases my dread. I haven’t yet thought about what I’ll say to him.
Let’s fly, River whispers in my mind as he smiles his seductive winning smile.Come on, Kentucky! Come on!
As I put the phone back in my pocket, I feel a strange tingling sensation. Like I suddenly feel him and his aura. Like he’s up here.
“Riv—are you there?” I call as loudly as I can, but the terrain is vast and mountainous, so the words just blow away.
I hurry on and spot something dangling from a low bush. It looks like a black cocoon, swinging back and forth. My heart skips a beat.He’s here. He’s already here!
As I get closer, I recognize the delicate origami crane that he probably folded with one hand to regain his inner balance.
To calm down.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I start running. If he left the crane here, then he has nothing to throw down.Every time you don’t jump...
Is that a sign that it’s too late? I swiftly untie the string and retie the crane on my wrist. Then, a few steps away, I spot a majestic white paper swan on a branch.
What does that mean? Does he want to be found? He tied a ribbon to both animals and draped them in such a way that someone—me—can find them. With shaking fingers, I tie the white paper animal on my other wrist. Why did he leave the swan, which is his symbol for me, behind, too?
Is he expecting me to come here? Is he hoping I’ll jump with him?
My heart is trembling in my chest. I run. I run faster than ever before. River is here. He left me signs. He wants me to find him. Maybe he doesn’t even suspect that I betrayed him. He probably thinks I’m the only one who will find him here, because he only told me.
