Nantahala by Mike Bozart - HTML preview

“Guys, the straight-line, west-east, gravity-type, hydroelectric dam is 480 feet [146 meters] high – the tallest in the Eastern United States – and it was completed on November 7^th, 1944,” Tim Palmerone III informed his adolescent duo as he displayed one of his cherished World War II U.S. government posters in his southeast Charlotte, split-level, dark-paneled den.

 

Tim’s lanky, rusty-brown-haired, olive-green-eyed, just-last-week-turned-seventeen, thin-from-undereating son just raised his eyebrows. And then looked back down, thoroughly non-enthused. He had been diagnosed with juvenile depression.

Nevertheless, 45-year-old, bespectacled, sandy-blonde-haired, steel-gray-eyed Tim continued with his Thursday evening pitch. “The deep lake is some thirty miles [48 km] long. And get this, guys – the Appalachian Trail actually goes across the top of the dam! How would you two like to go up to Fontana Lake this weekend? The weather forecast looks super-nice: fair skies with highs around 72.” [degrees Fahrenheit; 22º Celsius] Why in the world does dad want to take us there? Would much rather stay here and play video games. The wireless internet connection here is so much faster than mom’s. / Gosh, that sounds so cool! I bet Josh doesn’t want to go. He never wants to do anything anymore. / Fingers figuratively crossed for a pair of yes votes.

“I would love to go, dad!” scientifically inclined, ninth-grade-honor-student, chocolate-brown-haired, hazel-eyed Julia replied with veritable verve. “Maybe we will see some cracks in the dam from the alkali-aggregate reactions.” The what? Yes, she really is a savant. She’s going places. The only thing that could trip her up would be a lousy, loser-type boy. And, I think that she’s smart enough to navigate around that potential pitfall. / Dad loves Julia more than me; he always has. He favors her because she is so much more scholastic than me. Or, maybe he thinks that I prefer mom to him. Maybe that’s it.

“How about you, my keen son?” Please say ‘Yes’. / Keen? Oh, please. Spare me, dad.

“How long will it take to get there?” Josh listlessly enquired.

“Just under four hours if we don’t stop,” Tim divulged.

“Four freaking hours!” Josh exclaimed with a surfeit of exasperation. “That’s as long as going to the beach!”

“We’ll stop wherever you want for lunch, son,” Tim offered, trying to salvage his final best chance for a mountain-weekend-together getaway.

Lips-sullenly-sealed Josh then slowly nodded. Thank God! He’s onboard. / This had better be worth it. Bet it’s not. / Yey!

“Great!” Tim blurted with obvious relief. “I’ve already got our lodging picked out; it’s a small, rustic cabin near the scenic Nantahala River Gorge.”

“Nanta-HAY-la?” Josh was perplexed. Where the hell is that? Dad sure picks the weirdest places.

“Nantahala is a Cherokee word that literally means ‘land of the noon sun’,” Julia proudly proclaimed. She’s such a smarty pants. And, a constant showoff for dad. / I bet my girl places out of freshman history, math, science, and English.

<ding-doooooong>

“Dad, you really need to fix your doorbell,” Josh stoically remarked. “It’s sounds creepy as hell.” I kind of like it.

“Ah, you don’t like it, son? I got it off of ebay. Anyway, run along. Don’t keep your mother waiting. And, do well in school tomorrow. I’ll pick you two up Saturday morning [April 26, 2014] at 7:45 AM sharp. Deal?” Lame deal. But might as well go along. Don’t want to be labeled the deal-breaker.

“Deal!” Julia confirmed with enthusiasm. “I’ll be all ready to go in my new hiking gear.” Excellent.

“Ok, dad, see you then,” Josh relented. It seems that he has taken the divorce much harder than his sister. He blames – and hates – me for it.

At 8:19 AM Saturday, they were passing Crowders Mountain on Interstate 85 South. Josh, sitting alone in the rear seat of the 2009, quartz-silver-metallic Subaru Legacy, spotted the cliffs and remembered hiking up them five years prior. He mused: Mom and dad seemed fine on that day. Divorce was unimaginable. Wonder what caused the split. Bet one of them was cheating on the other. Bet it was dad. Mom probably busted him having an affair with a coworker. Wish she would just tell me the reason. / Josh seems lost in thought. Wonder what he’s thinking about. Who knows?

When they hit the fifth stoplight in Shelby on US 74, Tim wondered if his kids were hungry. “Want to stop for a quick breakfast? I’m buying.” He chuckled.

Julia, seated in the front passenger seat, shook her head. “I can hold out ‘til lunch, dad,” she asserted.

Josh just vocalized a half-breath exhalation: “Nuh.”

As they crossed the sage-green Broad River, Tim recalled a canoeing trip with his long-gone pal, John. That cheap, plastic, half-red/half-blue, cereal-box compass that fell in the water. Wonder if it floated all the way down to Columbia. Wonder exactly where it is right now. Probably in pieces in the Goat Shoals silt. Silt in the gill slit.

Julia caught a glimpse of White Oak Mountain as the sedan zipped past the green sign for Polk County. She thought: Almost in the Blue Ridge [Mountains] now. But, we still have quite a ways to go. Wonder how long the hike to the dam is.

Soon they were passing the small town of Columbus and merging onto Interstate 26 West. The Subaru charged up the curving incline without much problem. Twenty-seven silent minutes later, Tim took Exit 33 for Asheville Outlets (a remodeled mall surrounded by chain restaurants). They were in the McRonald’s drive-thru line at 10:41 AM. Wish they would eat healthier food. Wonder if Nancy [Tim’s ex and the mother of both kids] lets them eat fast food. / Dad is such a softie compared to mom. / So glad that he let us eat here. I love these French fries.

The journey soon recommenced on I-40 West. They passed three C-townships (Candler, Canton, and Clyde), and then took Exit 27 for US 74 West (Great Smoky Mountain Expressway). It was sunny and the traffic was fairly light. Everything seems to be going fine. Though, they sure are quiet. Maybe they know that I am going to tell them something pretty heavy later. Maybe they can sense it.

As they began to go around the town of Waynesville, the amber CHECK ENGINE light suddenly came on. Damn! Wouldn’t you know it! Everything was going so well – too well, I suppose. Though, the engine is still running cool. Oil pressure is ok. Battery still charged; alternator is fine. No funny sounds. Ah, let’s just go for it. The light was probably programmed to come on. Probably a mileage threshold was crossed. The dreaded ‘dealership light’. Ned’s term. Wonder what he is doing today. Probably holed up in a bar by one o’clock. A safe bet.

Julia saw Tim’s look of concern. “Is everything ok, dad?”

“Yeah, it’s all good, sweetie. We should be there in an hour.” Another freaking hour! This drive is taking forever. But once there, I’m going to have my own kind of fun. Oh, yeah! I’m breaking away from dad and sis. I’ll go on my own special – extra-spatial – hike. / Dad sure looked troubled by something. Wonder what Josh is thinking about. He seems so pensive, like he’s scheming.

When they passed under the US 441 overpass, Tim turned his head to the left and thought back to the time when he and his then-wife took the Great Smoky Mountains Railroad from Dillsboro to Bryson City in mid-November of 1996, just five months before Josh was born. The future sure seemed as bright as the cloudless autumn sky on that brisk day. And as clear as the sediment-settled Tuckasegee River. We were on our way to becoming the quintessential American nuclear family. Those yellow-to-orange fallen leaves languidly floating on the water’s surface. All decomposed long ago. Reconstituted somewhere. Into something. Else.

Josh and Julia both had their headphones on as the Subaru snaked through the already-quite-green Smoky Mountains. Tim then merged right to begin NC 28, initially a two-lane highway, which wound northwestward. In just a half-mile (.8 km), it became a divided four-lane highway. And then the road swung wide to the left. As they crossed the mouth of the Nantahala River (the southernmost cove of Fontana Lake), Tim had a question for his quiet-for-the-past-half-hour teenagers.

“Want to check out our cozy cabin and take a short break, or do you guys want to go to the dam now?”

“Let’s go to the cabin first!” Julia replied, suddenly full of energy once again.

Josh didn’t respond. He was half-asleep, smartphone-linked headphones still donned.

“Ok, princess, we’ll go check it out now,” Tim confirmed as he made a quick left turn onto Watia Road, which immediately curled back down towards the teal river.

After paralleling the Nantahala Gorge for about 100 meters (328 feet), the two-lane, narrow, moss-edged asphalt road started to rise up the ridge. Next, Tim turned left onto a leaf-covered dirt road that soon passed over a small creek (Jake Branch). He went about 70 meters (230 feet), and there it was: a small, quaint, log-sided cabin with a metal roof ensconced in a sea of rhododendron and mountain laurel. Excellent! We’re safely here. The directions were perfect! No wrong turns. / We’re sleeping in that shack tonight? Why, it had better have wireless. [internet] / That place looks kind of charming. Hope I can have my own bathroom. Does it have more than one bathroom? Sure hope so.

“Well, this is it, guys: our base of adventurous expedition for the next twenty-four or so hours.” Base of adventurous expedition? What in the heck is dad talking about? / Gosh, I sure hope I can have my own bedroom. Don’t want to be trapped with farting-all-night Josh. That would truly suck!

Tim parked in the assumed driveway and turned the engine off. The trio disembarked from the automobile. All were wondering how the afternoon, the evening – and especially the night – would transpire.

Julia ran up to the front door and turned the doorknob. Darn! “It’s locked!” she announced with overt disappointment.

“That’s actually good,” Tim stated. “No worries. I know where the key is.” He then walked to the backside of the cabin and crouched down beside a large, flat, dark-gray-with-sparkly-flakes metamorphic rock.

Julia and Josh followed. The door key had better be under there. If not … ughhh.

Tim slid the rock to his left. There in the damp, dark, worm-perforated soil was a silver house key. “Well, look what I found here.” He handed it to his eager-to-test-it daughter.

Julia put the key in the bronze lock and turned it. The door opened. She cautiously stepped inside the miniature foyer, which opened into the main room. There was no TV, and no radio or stereo system.

Tim walked past her. “There’s a bedroom and a half-bath in the basement, a bedroom over there, and a full bathroom right here,” Tim announced while pointing out the areas. “There’s a single bed in that loft up there. Ok, who wants what? First claimed, first served.” First claimed, first served? Isn’t it ‘first come, first served’? Dad is so odd.

“Can I have the bedroom on this level, dad?” Julia asked, desperately hoping for a ‘Yes’ answer.

“Sure, you got it, princess,” Tim affirmed. “Well, son, do you want the loft or the basement?”

“The basement is fine, dad.” With spiders and/or centipedes?

“Ok, your pop will be up in the loft reading his mountain-mystery novel tonight,” Tim revealed. Mountain-mystery novel? WTF! / Wonder what kind of mystery it is. Need to look at dad’s book later.

Josh frowned as he fiddled with his cell phone. “Dad, does this place have internet?”

“No, I don’t think so, son.” Just freaking great! I’m not staying here all afternoon. Time to take that hike.

“Ok, dad, is it ok if I take a little hike?”

“Sure, son. Feel free to explore. Just don’t get lost.”

“Well, we’ve all got cell phones,” Josh reminded them as he looked down at his and saw only one bar (out of five) illuminated on the reception scale. Damn!

“We sure do, son. But, remember that there are numerous dead spots in the ravines. Don’t get out of range.”

“Ok, I won’t,” Josh promised.

“How long until you’re back? I’m sure that your sister would like to see the dam before it gets dark.”

“I certainly would!” Julia interjected.

“Maybe two or three hours. Hey, why don’t you two check out the dam while I’m hiking? Then we’ll just meet back here at say … four o’clock.” Four o’clock?! / He’s up to something. Probably wants to smoke pot in the woods.

“Ok, son, call if you need us. Remember that texts can often go through when voice calls can’t.” Duh! I already knew that.

“Ok, dad, got it. I’m out.”

“Got water in your backpack, son?”

“A whole liter,” Josh uttered.

“That’s 33.8 fluid ounces,” Julia informed. She’s such a nerd.

“I’ve also got some protein bars and pepper spray,” Josh disclosed. “I’m good.”

“Ok, son, but don’t attempt anything foolish,” Tim warned.

Josh nodded, walked out the door, and headed east through the dense, hemlock-hemmed forest. Hope he’ll be ok. Need to let him step out on his own. Let him find himself. / I just know that he’ll be getting thoroughly doped-up out there. Should I tell dad? No, not now. It would ruin the whole trip. And, it would be a miserable four-hour drive back to Charlotte.

As soon as Josh had lost sight of the cabin, he opened the tiny ziplocked sachet that contained some tan-colored yagé powder. He poured it into his mouth and let it sit for a minute. The taste was not pleasant. Then he swallowed it and chased it with some of his spring water. Well, things should get interesting fairly soon.

Josh continued his primarily eastward, upward, pathless trek through the dense flora. In only fifteen minutes he had reached the ridgeline. The swollen Nantahala River lazily glistened some 50 meters (164 feet) below. Mighty!

The slope was quite steep. He sat down on a fallen fir tree. And then it – the DMT – hit. Geometric patterns began to appear. Everything in his field of view was linked at varying angles, which created a plethora of polyhedrons. When the wind blew, it rippled the mosaic-tile-like tapestry. This is da shit! Billy wasn’t kidding. Look at all these linkages. How much of this is real? This life? Some other life? A next life? What the hell am I thinking?

Tim and Julia passed through a series of long glens that opened into wide valleys in the still-running-just-fine Subaru. After exiting a lake-partially-visible cove and scaling another ridge, Tim decelerated to read the brown, narrow, rectangular sign on the recently mowed grass shoulder.

TVA FONTANA DAM →

He slowly made a hard right curve that ended at a STOP sign. Tim turned the steering wheel to the right again. They were now on Fontana Road. A motorcyclist vroomed leftward behind them. Never fails.

“I guess that we were impeding his desired rate of progress,” Tim said to his precocious fourteen-year-old daughter.

“Dad, the way that he throttled his motorbike expressed his supreme displeasure with our speed. But, what’s there to be in a hurry about out here in the middle of nature?”

“Maybe he had an argument with his wife,” Tim suggested, and quickly wished that he hadn’t. He regrets the divorce. Yes, I can tell. I bet that he would take mom back. But, she wouldn’t have dad back. Not now. No way.

Julia didn’t comment. She just looked at the passing trees. Dad is still quite bitter. I can feel it. Well, maybe I can cheer him up at the dam. Just talk about science. Don’t mention mom. And certainly not her new, rich boyfriend. Wonder what Josh is doing right now. Another toke of his pipe?

After about a mile (1.6 km), Tim parked the car at the Fontana Dam Visitors Center. There were only four other vehicles there. They then got out and walked up to The Overlook, a gift shop.

“Want a model-of-the-dam souvenir?” Tim asked.

“Maybe on the way back,” Julia replied. “That way we don’t have to carry it on the dam.” Very smart, she is.

Soon they were walking on an old, double-yellow-lined, asphalt-cracked-in-a-thousand-and-one-places road atop Fontana Dam. The mountain-surrounded lake on their right looked like something out of the Alps in the noonday sunshine. What a lovely manmade lake! / What an engineering feet – to build such a massive dam in the middle of this mountainous wilderness. How did they ever get the equipment and supplies in here?

An Asian family of three was approaching them. The three-to-four-year-old, black-haired boy started running ahead. He was incredibly excited. The boy abruptly stopped and looked at the safety barrier, just to the left of Tim.

“I’m going to see what’s on the other side!” he declared.

He then pulled himself up the approximately forty-inch-high (one meter) concrete wall by grabbing hold of the metal guardrail that was bolted on top. His rubber-soled sneakers quickly gained some traction on the rough, high-coefficient-of-friction surface. Oh, my God! That boy is going to go over the wall. Got to save him. Now!

Tim ran over and grabbed the nape of the boy’s jacket and slung him back. However in doing so, his torso got twisted. His shifting momentum sent him over the railing. His flailing body triple-bounced into the powerhouse five seconds later.

A stunned, completely motionless Julia could not believe what she had just witnessed. And neither could the shocked little boy and his jaws-agape parents.

Josh was now seeing dark circles on the water. They started to combine and grow larger. In a matter of seconds, there were only two, each with an ominous outer ring. They hovered and looked like large fish eyes – dead-fish eyes. A teeth-like image with red lips flashed right where a mouth might be. Why am I seeing this? What does it mean? Does anything really mean anything? Special? Significant? How long have I been sitting here?

Then he noticed a strange cyan shape in the water. It was like a pixelated glitch in his vision. Woah! What is that?!

His cell phone chirped. Are they already worried about me?

Josh selected the newest text.

OMG, Josh! Dad is dead!!! He fell off the dam while rescuing a small boy. I’m shaking and crying. Please call me now!! Or text me! I don’t know what to do. I’m with the sheriff right now. We are headed back to the cabin.