“Whatever you say, Vinnie. All I know is, I’ve never heard a sound like that.”
We were maybe three miles up the trail when we came to a stand of white birch trees. The leaves were long gone. The cold sunlight lit the ground through the bare branches.
“This is where we stopped yesterday,” Vinnie said. “Can you see all the marks on the ground?”
I bent down and looked. “All I see are bear tracks,” I said.
“Yeah, but besides that. Over here toward the sides.” He pointed a few feet off the trail, by the base of the biggest birch tree. “Careful where you walk.”
“You make it sound like a crime scene,” I said. Then it occurred to me. A crime scene might be exactly what this was.
“You see the boot prints?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“There are several together, right here.” He stepped carefully and leaned against the tree. “I think there’s at least three different boots here.”
“So they were all walking in a line.”
“But why so close to the tree? The trail’s wide-open. There’s no reason to walk all the way over here. And this is what we were talking about yesterday-you see here how this boot print is deep on the inside edge? And this one here, too. You wouldn’t see that if somebody was just walking normally.”
“So what do you think happened here?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “We need to keep looking.”
“How far up this trail do you wanna go?”
Vinnie didn’t answer me. He stood there looking up into the sky. “Do you hear that?”
“What?”
“Listen.”
It took a few seconds to pick up the sound. It was a faint buzzing, in the far distance. “The plane,” I said.
“They’re coming. It’s about time.”
“So let’s go back.”
He looked back down at the ground. “You think you can find your way back to the cabin?”
“I suppose so, why?”
“We’re just gonna go meet up with them, and then come right back up here. I’d rather just stay here and look around some more.”
“Well, don’t go wandering off too far. We don’t want to lose you, too.”
He looked at me.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Are you sure you can find your way back?”
“Vinnie, I’m not that hopeless. I can follow the trail back to the cabin.”
“Bring me some food when you come back,” he said. “And some water.”
“Will do,” I said. “I’ll be back soon.”
I turned around and took two steps, then stopped. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I said.
“Alex, I’m just gonna look around. Go get the guys.”
“All right,” I said. I shook off the little chill that had run up my spine and started down the trail. You’re starting to imagine things, I thought. Damned bears and those noises.
I retraced our steps, leaving the white birches behind and heading into the deep shade of the pine trees. The pine needles were a soft blanket beneath my feet. The only sound was the steady buzz of the plane, getting louder and louder with each passing minute.
I came back to the small stream we had crossed, jumping over the water and landing hard on the rocks. Then it was back into the pine trees, more darkness, more pine needles. I saw bear tracks all over the place.
And no boot prints.
Shit, I thought. Leave it to me to get lost walking back three miles to the goddamned cabin.
“All right, stay calm,” I said out loud. I didn’t sound very reassuring. I wasn’t fooling anybody. “Just retrace your steps a bit.” When I turned around there was nothing to see but trees. A million trees and no recognizable trail.
The plane got louder. It seemed to be circling overhead now, but I couldn’t see it through the branches. Maskwa must have flown right over the lake. He was probably scouting out the terrain up here along the north trail.
I took a few steps back the way I had come, following my boot prints, all the way back to the stream. The plane was north of me now, assuming I had any idea where north was anymore. I tried to locate the sun. “Okay, if the sun’s there,” I said. “It’s late in the morning, which means that south would be-”
Thataway, you stupid useless white man. I found our boot prints, right down the original trail. How I’d missed them coming over the stream, I had no idea. I kept walking, making a promise to myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone about my little detour. The plane was passing overhead once more. Again, I couldn’t see it through the trees, although this time I did see the plane’s shadow darken the sky for just a moment. The sound receded for a few minutes, and then stopped. They’re at the lake, I thought. They’re getting out, wondering where the hell we are.
I kept walking. They’re reading the note, maybe shaking their heads at our impatience. They’re settling down to wait for us. Or more likely they’re coming up this trail to find us. With lots of cold water, I hoped. All this walking through the woods, not to mention getting lost, was making me pretty damned thirsty.
I was about a mile away from the cabin at that point. As I came around each bend in the trail, I kept expecting to see them. But I didn’t. They must be unloading stuff from the plane, I thought. Or maybe they saw something else and went down a different trail. Which would mean I’d get there and find the place deserted, and wonder what the hell to do next.
I walked the last mile. The trail opened up to the cabin site.
There was nobody there.
“Ah, horseshit,” I said. “I knew it. They went off somewhere else. Now what the-”
I stopped. There was no plane at the dock.
I stood there for a full minute, trying to make sense of it. I had heard the plane in the air, had heard it land. I went over to the cabin and looked on the porch. The note was just where I had left it. I went to the dock and looked out at the lake. It was calm and empty. There was no sound at all. No wind. Nothing.
“What the hell?” The lake bent around to the right-maybe they had seen something on the far shore, and had landed the plane over there. I remembered the trail that Maskwa and I had explored the day before and how it had followed the curve of the shoreline.
I found that trail again and began walking. I moved fast. I wanted to find that damned plane so I could stop wondering, so I could get rid of this prickly little ball that was forming in my stomach. I flashed back on the way Maskwa had to muscle that flimsy old plane into the sky, how he just barely cleared the trees, how half the instrument panel fell right into his lap.
I moved faster. I was running now, trying to see through the trees. “Be there, God damn it. I want to see that plane.”
How old was Maskwa, anyway? He was Guy’s grandfather, so he had to be what? Sixty years old at least? Closer to seventy? And that plane, hell, for all I knew, it was just as old.
The trees opened up. I went up over a rock and landed in the shallow water. I didn’t even think about how cold it was on my feet. Where was that plane?
Guy got his Grandpere to fly us all the way up here in his tiny little airplane. They were the only people on this earth who even knew we were up here. And today…
I waded out into the lake, until I was standing up to my knees in the freezing water.
Lake Agawaatese was empty.
Chapter Thirteen
