There are endless fields of basalt-black stones around us, and jagged shapes rise upward in the fields. The cooled lava has formed into all sorts of solidified formations, rolling hills, and strange towers like something out of a bizarre science fiction film. I think of Mr. Spock andStar Trek VI: The Undiscovered Countryand feel terrible that I haven’t been able to write to him in so long. He would definitely love this place—like River.
For a moment, I feel far away from the world, like I did back on Old Sheriff, but this time, I’m not alone. It’s like River and I have landed on another planet together.
“The heat here comes from the lava. The dark stones store and reflect the sun’s rays more than any other environment,” River explains as if he has rehearsed it.
Minnesota has cow pastures and farms in the summer and nothing but snow in the winter. On the way here, the landscape consisted of grassy steppes and forests. I’ve never been to a place like this before.
“The Pioneer Mountains are over there,” River says, and I follow his outstretched arm with my eyes and see mountains with snow-covered peaks, standing out clearly from this black-brown wasteland. “You think this landscape is dead, but if you look closely, you find life in every square foot.” He sounds solemn, and I realize something deep must connect him to this place. Maybe a memory. His gaze vaguely looks at the landscape in front of us as I spot tiny wildflowers with delicate purple blossoms between the lava. In the distance, gnarled trees nestle against the dark land, almost tenderly, as if they wanted to cover this strange stretch of land with their branches.
“Now turn!”
I do as he says, and my breath catches in my throat—not because of the untouched beauty of nature but because of the contrast. In front of me, a mountain rises out of nowhere, a titan, and it is bare and pitch black. This deep black makes the sky around it glow surreally blue.
“This is the Inferno Cone, a cinder cone.”
I blink a few times because the image in front of me is so strange. And somehow, there’s only one thing I want to do, but River beats me to it.
“Race you to the top!” he shouts and runs off. And now, as he runs toward this black colossus, I stand still, as if I belong to these solidified lava formations. I watch him run and run. His dark shirt blends into the surroundings, and his hair shines like bright fire. It shines a thousand times brighter than the sky, and suddenly it seems as imaginary as the landscape. Too beautiful, too strange, too perfect. For a tiny fraction of a second, I question my sanity. Am I mentally ill, and there’s no River? Maybe I’m imagining it.
But then, halfway through, he turns and raises both arms. He calls out something I can’t make out since he’s too far away. Maybe he’s not calling, and I’m just imagining it.
He may also have said,Come and jump with me! Dying is easier together!
When he turns again and continues running, my heart beats faster. Suddenly, my feet carry me on their own. I hear the crunch of my footsteps, my breathing, and the silence. The sky above me feels like a cloth that gives me wings.
River, wait!I want to shout, and I distinctly feel the words hitting my inner barrier. Clearer and sharper, as if they could break through the blockage.Wait! Wait!
I’m suddenly afraid. Maybe there’s a chasm at the end of the hill, a chasm I can’t see from here but that he knows about. Maybe that’s why he wanted to come here. He doesn’t want to wait any longer after the incident at the motel, or maybe something has spontaneously erupted in him—like his anger yesterday. A panicked reaction I couldn’t foresee.
Wait! Please!
I can hardly breathe anymore. River is farther away than it looks from below. He can still be seen, but he appears tiny.
He’s reached the top.
I force myself to run faster when I realize he’s looking at me and has stopped.
A wave of relief floods my veins. He’s waiting for me; he won’t jump alone. Still, some of the fear remains like a shadow in my mind.
As I crest the hill, he strolls onward, his hands buried deep in his pockets. The wind hits me like a giant puffed out its cheeks. It blows River’s hair, and I want to reach out and tell him how scared I was for him, but I don’t think he would understand.
“I’ve been here before,” he says when I am within earshot. “It was a while ago.”
As long ago as your promise, I think automatically.
His gaze sweeps over the plain below us, where the strange land shimmers. “I was seventeen then, like you are now.” I strollnext to him as he continues on. “I know you were afraid of me...the other night when I freaked out. To be honest, I don’t even know where to start...”
I pull the silver book with the gold pen out of my pocket.Best at the beginning.
River tenderly ruffles my hair, which is tousled by the wind. “You don’t say, Tucks.”
I just smile, still feeling the touch long after he has pulled his hand away.
“By the way, that book makes you look like a journalist.” He laughs and inhales deeply. “So, the beginning.” He looks at me for a moment. “The beginning of us or the beginning of me?”
Whichever you’d rather tell.
He briefly presses his lips together. “I’m on the run. I’m not only running from my friends but also from my parents. Especially my father.”
