Peter Geye - Wintering

“ ‘Dam it?’ George says. ‘Hell, no.’ He wades ashore and Freddy goes with him, and before I get one foot up the falls the two of them are passed out on the beach. But Charlie, he’s right behind me. Step for step. Why he’s so hot to get into the Devil’s Maw I couldn’t imagine, but he was. And it was making me nervous. He had that look in his eye I came to know well over the years. That look like he was about to put some wild idea to the test. I’ve never seen much craziness, but I saw it in him. And not for the first time on that day. Not the first by a long shot.”

Gus knew the look his father was talking about. He’d seen the same glint in Cindy’s eyes up on Long Finger Lake. The moonshine lighting it up. Those nights in his car, kissing fierce, he’d confused that look with desire. But, listening to his father, he thought it over and realized what it was — the Aas wires getting crossed. He shivered to think he’d missed it.

“In the oxbow there, a heap of driftwood’s piled up, and I start carrying it across the river. Water’s not more than knee-deep, but swift there at the chutes. Charlie and I, we have to work together. Wedge a couple logs into the rocks above the maw. Float a bunch more across the water. Choose our steps carefully. We’re busy as goddamn beavers.

“Meanwhile, the boys onshore are drooling on their shirtsleeves. Sun’s burning their necks. I kick Freddy in the ass. Charlie fills his hat with water and pours it over his brother’s head, and he bolts upright but then falls over just as quick, because the arm he thought would hold him up wasn’t there. This sets Charlie howling. He slaps his knee with his hat and says, ‘I guess some Jap mixed your left hand into his chow mein, eh, Georgie?’

“Georgie scrambles up and gets in his brother’s face. ‘You’re a lousy son of a bitch, Charlie. A no-account shithead.’ Charlie steps back and laughs again and calls him a sourpuss. Georgie takes a half-step back but then spins around and kicks Charlie square in the ass. Sends him stumbling into the water alongshore. Charlie fills his hat again in the same motion and keeps splashing his brother. Freddy, he gets between them, and when Charlie makes another run he pushes him aside and Charlie ends up back on his ass in the shallows. I guess this cooled him down a little, because, the next thing I know, we’re all standing on the lip of the maw.”

The expression on Harry’s face, it was as though he was looking straight down into it now, sitting in the trapper’s shack. “You and me, we were right there. Day one of this great adventure.” He looked at Gus. “Not two hours from home. Remember?”

“Of course I do.”

“I should’ve told you this story right then and there. I should have had you look into that hole.”

“I’ve looked into the Devil’s Maw a hundred times, Dad.”

“But you never looked into it knowing what I’m about to tell you.”

“Which is what?”

“Charlie ties a lantern onto a rope and lights it and starts lowering it. He plays out maybe thirty feet of rope and — poof! — the light’s just gone. I start thinking maybe this isn’t the best idea I ever had, but since I’m not about to renege and lose the bet, I harness myself up. Fix the free end of the rope to that cedar tree that grows out of the bedrock there. I’m all ready and Charlie says, ‘I’ll hold the rope.’ I tell him he can hold his dick.” He smiled at this. But frowned a second later.

“Then I’m rappelling into the maw. One minute I hear all the hootin’ above, the next it’s gone. Water’s dripping from above and spraying from the walls and it’s cold. Ninety degrees out on the river, and twenty feet down you could’ve stored your milk and eggs.”

Harry paused for a long time, staring again down into his empty coffee cup. “Christ almighty—”

“What was it like?”

Without looking up, Harry said, “First and foremost, it was dark. You can’t imagine. And cold, like I said.

“I lit a lantern. The walls were smooth and wet. There was a rock shelf on the other side of the shaft that I tried to swing over to, but I couldn’t reach it. So I just hung there for a few minutes, looking down.” He stopped talking, brought the cup closer to his eyes, and stared into it. “I’ve thought about hanging there in the Devil’s Maw an awful lot over the years. I sure wish I’d gone deeper. Found the bottom. I’d have been the only person on earth to know what was down there.” He finally lifted his gaze.

“But I didn’t have enough rope. I clumsily dropped the lantern and watched its light plummet for what seemed a damn long time. Never heard it shatter or splash. It was just gone, gone, gone. But where? What happened to it? All these years later, is it still shining down there? I wondered the same thing about the flames that Georgie threw into those tunnels on Iwo Jima. Where’d that go? Into the fires of hell? Or did it catch some Japanese machine-gunner and burn him up?”

He finally set the coffee cup on the table, pushed it to the center like he was tempted to pick it back up but didn’t want to. He did keep his eye on it, though.

“ ‘Well?’ Charlie says when I climb back out.

“My arms were about to fall off and I was breathing hard and steaming like a racehorse. ‘Well, what?’

“Freddy and George are standing there. They want to know, too. But I say, ‘Pay me, you louts.’ And faster than they can pull their money out they’re piling it into my hand. Ten bucks apiece, everything I’d lost at the stud game and half again as much. Then George starts looking very serious. ‘Out with it,’ he says.”

“And?” Gus asked.

Harry looked at him like there was a punch line in the offing. “ ‘George, you’re not going to believe this!’ I tell him. ‘Those walls are streaked with gold! Gold and diamonds and rubies bigger than your brother’s goddamn head.’ Then I turned to Charlie. ‘And a spring’s running fast with hundred-proof home-burnt! And beautiful ladies, ready and waiting for a dandy like you.’

“I untied myself from the rope and made a gesture of handing it to Charlie. ‘Of course, we’ll need a stronger rope to lower your fat ass down.’

“ ‘Just tell us what you saw down there. What the hell is it?’ Charlie says.

“I told him his potbelly was blocking out the sun and I couldn’t see a damn thing through it.”

Harry, straight-faced and fierce-eyed, said, “And there’s one-armed George, standing with his back against that cedar tree, chuckling at his little brother. He was still learning to live without his arm, always seeming like he was about to tip over. ‘It’s just a hole in the rock, you rube.’

“Of course, Charlie’s madder than a fox in a trap. He tells George to shut the hell up, that he’ll rip his other arm off and beat the snot out of him with it. Then he turns to me and says, ‘I ought to give you a beating, too.’

“To which I say, ‘Feel like giving it a try?’ ”

Harry reached for the cup, then stopped and leaned back in his chair. “George wants to know if there’s a bottom. ‘To the hole?’ I say. ‘I didn’t get there, but it stands to reason there’s got to be one.’

“Charlie, he can’t stand it and says, ‘You wouldn’t know reason if it kissed you on the lips.’

“ ‘Maybe not, but I know more than you do.’ He took a step toward me and raised his fist. He might have swung it, too, but Freddy Riverfish steps in, and nobody — I mean nobody — tussled with him. Not back then. Not ever. He was always right beside me. So Charlie pockets his fist and says to me, ‘You think you got the market on ancient wisdom, Harry Eide.’

“ ‘What the hell’s ancient wisdom?’ I asked him, then I looked from man to man. ‘I just went down the Devil’s Maw, with you assholes holding the rope. Ain’t that the opposite of wisdom?’ ”