Tim Parks - Rapids

Eat for energy everybody! Mandy shouted. The bacon smell was overpowering. Vince ate, but then felt sick. Shut that hamster up! Adam yelled. The tall chinless man went round with a cardboard box full of wine gums and jelly babies. Instant glucose, he promised. At least six packets in every boat. Believe me, you really don’t have to worry, the hamster sang. Mandy came to eat her bacon next to Vince, but now he had to get up for the first of his pre — trip craps. You’re going to have a great day, she told him. When they left, Tom still hadn’t appeared from his tent.

The minibus led the way pulling the trailer, while Vince drove behind in his car to run the shuttle. Entering the gorge, Adam asked Clive if there weren’t any places they should get out and scout on the way up, what with all the rain there’d been. The decision to include his son seemed to have settled the quarrel between the two men. They were both intent on the job. Can’t from the road, Clive said. We have to scout as we paddle down. Practise for the four — stars.

In fact, almost immediately above Sand in Taufers the road left the river to climb and wind spectacularly over the valley. Jesus, Mark whispered. Clive drove surprisingly fast beside drops of hundreds of feet. Jesus Christ! It was a landscape both massive and crumbling. From the seat behind, Brian plunged his hand down Amelia’s T — shirt to grab Wally. Not funny, she said. The boy couldn’t get the string over her head. You’re hurting! It had tangled in her hair. Her eyes were red. The minibus attacked another hairpin. Belts everybody! Adam shouted. Brian!

I hope I can keep my breakfast down, Vince was saying in the car behind. To his pleased surprise, just as the two vehicles were setting off, Michela had climbed out of the minibus and come over to his car. In case you get lost, she explained. Now she smiled, but without opening her eyes. She had her head back on the headrest. The nerves will go as soon as you are on the water. After a pause, she added: When you speak someone else’s language, you are always repeating what someone else has said. Vince was eager to please, but couldn’t understand. Her eyes still shut, the girl seemed to be elsewhere. What’s repeating on me is the bacon, he said. In front, the minibus had dived down a steep track towards the river.

After the kayaks had been lifted off the trailer, and everybody had changed and put their dry clothes back in the bus, Vince and Clive had to run the shuttle: that is, to drive both vehicles back down to the get — out point, then return in the car, so that minibus and trailer would be waiting at the bottom when the group arrived, tired and perhaps cold, in the late afternoon. So forty minutes later Vince would again be fighting his nausea as he drove up the steep road a second time, now with Clive beside him. The rain had begun to fall. Large sections of the landscape grew grey and insubstantial.

Any demonstrations planned? Vince asked. Talk of the river would only make him more nervous. There was the international heads of government summit on global warming in Berlin next week, Clive said. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. And you’re going? Sure. With Michela? A bunch of people they knew, Clive explained, would be there to picket. We’re in touch through the net all the time. The cheap flights make it easier.

Then Vince said that, leaving aside the clash with Adam, he admired Clive for his commitment. Why do I keep telling them this? he wondered. He was thinking of the man lying on the wooden floor of the chalet with his reading glasses and stacks of photocopies while the pretty young woman stretched naked on the bed. He wanted to understand. So often, he started to say, people can see that a cause is right, you know, but it seems impossible actually to do anything about it. They were stuck now behind a tractor pulling a trailer loaded with logs. Like, up on the glacier, you were saying how all together we’ve managed to destroy it, without even really trying, but individually we feel powerless to reverse the process, our lives are so set. Clive leaned forward and stared into the rain. He wore a peaked cap on his long, tawny hair. This is one hell of a river, he said quietly. Let’s enjoy it. About twenty minutes later Vince got into his boat, secured the spray — deck and shouted: Today I’m going to paddle like a god! He didn’t even notice the nerves had gone.

Four — star assessment! Clive shouted. Rescues. Time out, guys. They had run about two kilometres of hectic river. The plateau ended in a narrow race of water bouncing through stones, eroding its way into the gorge. Vince’s right shoulder ached from the wrench it had taken yesterday pulling Mandy’s boat off the rock. All in all, though, the old body was holding up surprisingly well. Gloria would be proud, he thought. He’d learned so much so quickly. Up front, Michela paddled mechanically in Clive’s wake. The boys darted all over the place, crashing over rocks into stoppers. Wild, but manageable, Adam remarked, banging into Brian’s boat when they eddied out. We need volunteers, Clive said. Three swimmers to be rescued by our three four — star candidates. All you have to do is jump into the stream from the bank. Nothing dangerous here. The rescuers will throw you a line from the bank and haul you in. Important technique, kids, because we’ll probably need to do it in anger at least once today when things get trickier.

I’m on. Adam volunteered. He obviously enjoyed this registration of measurable achievement, the business of stars and certificates. Mark? he asked. Cold, the boy muttered. He was slouched in his boat. I’ll do it, Vince said. He beached and pulled his deck. Michela seemed hardly to notice what was going on. She didn’t offer to help. Amelia announced: Since I feel suicidal anyway, I may as bloody well. She climbed out of her boat. Clive picked up the sour catch in her voice. What’s the matter? The girl exploded: Don’t ask me what the fucking matter is, ask her! Without actually turning, she gestured in Michela’s direction. The young woman was arching right back in her cockpit so that her helmet rested on the deck behind her. The rain fell on her smooth cheeks and closed eyes, the boat turned slowly in the eddy.

Ask your friend! Amelia repeated. Then she said brutally: Are you bloody blind or what? The girl was on the brink of tears. Michela appeared not to have heard. Phil was watching with a twisted grin. Vince wondered if Clive had understood. He seemed puzzled. Come on, kids, he said determinedly, sheer concentration now. Where do you want me to jump from? Adam asked. Hobbling along the bank downstream, Brian called: I’ll rescue you, Melly. Count on me. Under a blue helmet, the boy’s round freckled face and chapped lips made him seem no more than ten years old. Don’t call me that, she snapped.

They jumped from the spur above the eddy. The rescuers had a good fifty yards to save them before anything serious could happen. It was a question of tossing a nylon throw — bag stuffed with rope, while holding the loose end of the line. Always throw just behind and beyond the swimmer, Clive explained. The rope floats faster than a body and naturally swings round to the bank you’re on.

Vince leaped into the swirl. To his surprise his feet hit the bottom hard, jarring his hips— there must be a ledge— then the current took him. Even in full kit, the body felt the shock of the cold. He assumed the textbook position, on his back, feet downstream to meet any obstacles. There was a sudden acceleration as the water rushed round the spur. Now, now, now, his mind sang. He is in it. Now is always the important moment. This water, in this part of the river. Now! Max shouted. The bag fell perfectly, so that the yellow rope unravelled across the water just half a yard behind. Vince had it. Feet braced against a rock, the fifteen — year — old hauled him to the bank. Easiest fishing ever, he joked. His thin arms were strong and sure. Impressive, Vince told him.