Fortune

I continued to get up every morning and take the boat out to start each work day. I made it a point to invest into a couple of items. The first was a Zippo lighter and the second was a chimenea. A chimenea is a portable ceramic fireplace that emits an incredible amount of heat. Before going out on the boat, I would start a fire in the chimenea and go find and winch in the first log of the day. Then I would take a break from the shivering cold until I was warm enough to go out again.

Usually by midmorning the sun would warm the water enough that I could skip huddling around the chimena. As I thought would happen Gayle scoffed at my need for my breaks, ascribing them to general laziness more than anything else. I responded that for a woman that wore nothing more than Texas A & M tee shirts she certainly had a lot of opinions that nobody gave a damn about.

The remark had her gulping air like crazy and tears fell as she ran towards Robert's car and left Robert stranded with me for the day. I told Robert that I didn't think it was that good an insult as we went to collect another log.

By now, the sawmill was up and running and Gayle and Robert had hired a couple of guys to run the sawmill. Even though it was unspoken I knew Gayle was pushing Robert to end our partnership and hire a boat crew to operate the boat. To his credit Robert refused to listen to Gayle.

Now about the only time I saw Gayle was when the three of us would go on a boat run to scout out a new area. I don't know how she did it, but, through her research Gayle would always have us on a new trove of logs to harvest. Now her new complaint was my sloth was causing delays in getting logs to the mill. Robert pointed out that I generally kept ahead of the sawmill crew and I had a small surplus of logs built up for the sawmill crew to attend to.

Thank God for that because when I took off for Saturday's visitation I thought she was going to come unglued. How dare I waste a day! I pointed out that the sawmill crew didn't work on the weekends so I would not hamper the operation by taking a personal day.

So I spent another sad lonely hour alternating looking from the door to the clock waiting for a visit that wasn't going to happen. Robert had suggested that I continue to insist the kids attend the visitation. I pointed out that any manifestation to show my love by insisting on doing something they both resented would only cause more problems. No, I wanted them to be there voluntarily.

If Gayle had bothered to notice after I got back from wasting a half day Saturday, I unloaded a log haul late that afternoon and three hauls for Sunday. The work continued to be a salve for my heartache as I wondered about Steven and Carol. Oddly, I felt an amazing lack of concern for Stella. She had so treacherously destroyed our marriage I knew there would be no rebound there.

As Fall approached, Gayle's efforts to undermine me escalated. The increasing cold continued to hamper my efforts to collect logs. I had to take longer and longer breaks to warm up sufficiently to continue to dive on the logs. That translated to fewer hauls of my timber and more hauls of pine and oak logs that Robert contracted with other logging outfits for the sawmill operation. Gayle argued that justified terminating the partnership.

I felt a strange comparison on Stella's and now Gayle's efforts to denigrate me. Obviously, from my perspective I didn't see anything that justified their actions, but, still in the back of my head I kept wondering what I had done to set them off.

I spent another lonely Saturday with an unanswered prayer. As I drove home I asked God if I would ever be complete again? I didn't hear an answer.

Another couple of weeks passed and my results continued to deteriorate. I drove to Robert's and suggested to him that maybe it was time to stop diving until Spring. I could see the victory smile on Gayle as the results continued to fall in her favor.

Then she threw a total mindfuck. She wanted to go out tomorrow on the boat to scout locations on the Red River. We had held off on going on the Red River due to our success in the tributaries. Robert reminded her that he had a prior commitment in Houston to attend to so he couldn't make it. I could see the debate waging on Gayle's face as she tried to decide whether she could tolerate being alone with me on the pontoon boat. She finally announced that she still wanted to go out.

That morning I went to pick her up and she hurried past me in her maroon Texas A & M sweatshirt and jeans and got in my truck. Robert was getting ready to leave himself and jokingly told me not to kill her. I just drew a deep breath and went to my truck.

All day long we spent going to various places on the river. The only time we would converse would be when she directed me to another location or when I told her I located a log by my bamboo pole. Through my experience I could distinguish when I located timber. Then she would transfix the location into her portable GPS. I took note of several disturbing facts, the main ones being the depth of the river and the rapid current. I had to throw down an additional anchor line to keep the boat from drifting as we searched for timbers.

Coupled by the tons of silt speeding through it would make diving an especially haphazard task in the murky water. Lord knows what other obstacles I would bump into down there. Anchor lines would be needed to tether to so the current wouldn't sweep me down river. Which meant scuba gear so I could stay down long enough to fashion the winch lines around the logs. This was going to be an extremely dangerous proposition, I would need to take a refresher scuba course and update my gear. I would also need a dive partner since it had been drummed into me so long ago not to dive alone. As I continued to watch Gayle enter data into her GPS I thought about mentioning that to Gayle.

Then I had an epiphany. Gayle never intended me to dive on timbers we were scouting on. By next Spring she would have Robert convinced why I had outlived my usefulness and the need to hire lesser paid employees that would take the place of an expensive partner. The new crew would start on the treasure I had helped her locate to assure my termination.

The bitterness blinded me and I turned away from her and went back to the boat cockpit not daring to look at her plot my betrayal. The late afternoon sun was fading into evening on what would be a glamorous sunset on the river. I continued to pretend to do a chore that didn't require me to look at her.

I heard an unfamiliar short yelp and a loud splash. I turned around to look at the bow of the boat and to my puzzlement I couldn't locate Gayle. I heard a cry by the same time I spotted an object speeding down river.

Gayle was desperately trying to swim upriver to the boat as the river powered her downstream. By the time she started to scream I was already running up the length of the boat. By the time I dove into the water she was 50 yards downstream and sunk out of sight from an undertow.

Even as I cringed from the numbing cold of the water I knew I made the right decision to dive in after her. If Gayle had the presence of mind she wouldn't have fought so hard to swim upstream, but, instead used her efforts to swim downstream to the bank where she could have waded out of the water. Instead she was panicking like most people would and sought to return to a safe haven.

I couldn't have gotten the anchors up in time and start the boat to catch up to her. It was essential that I kept her in sight as best I could. I started swimming as fast as I could downstream. I heard her yell again which meant the undertow had released her and she had made her way to the surface.

I didn't see but I knew she was trying desperately to get to me. The problem was she was quickly tiring and eventually she would go into an undertow that she would not be able to power her way back to the surface or she would collide with a snag and be injured and not be able to save herself. I had to get to her as quickly as I could. I reached the area of the undertow that sucked her under and felt it try to draw me to doom.

The difference being that I was speeding along on purpose allowed me to quickly draw away from its grasp. Slowly, ever so slowly, I gained ground as her voice weakened. Still I knifed through the water to catch up to her.

I was in midstroke when an unidentified snag rammed into my torso. It caused me to gasp from the pain and I sucked in the muddy river water and sputtered it back out as best I could. I had to ignore the pain as I continued to stroke toward Gayle.

Thirty feet, twenty feet, she disappeared again and thankfully came back up. Fifteen feet, ten, five. I saw that last remaining looks of desperation on her face before she submitted to the will of Nature. Three, two, one. Her arms blindly flailed to me and her hands snatched away to grasp me.

Now I would have to tend to a new danger of Gayle unwittingly clinching to me and riding us both to our deaths. I waited for the right moment and reached out and jerked her hair. I was using the hand on my injured side so the extra effort shot pain throughout my body , but, I continued to hold on. Luckily the pain I was causing Gayle was making her grab my arm to alleviate tugging on her hair.

As long as she continued to do that we had a chance. As I slowly guided us closer to the bank I had the incongruous thought that finally I was touching the red flames of those auburn tresses. I quickly dispelled that notion as we approached near a large sandbar. I continued to fight to get us away from the sway of the river.

Then my knee bumped into sand. I started to scramble upright. When I let go of Gayle, she panicked again and tried to grab me before she realized land was underfoot. We both crawled up the sandbar, crying, gasping for breath, shivering from the cold. Collapsing into the wet sand to try to recover.

I felt the hard muscle spasms and the numbing of my fingers and toes. I crawled up the bank ignoring the pleas of Gayle. I grabbed as much of the dry brittle pinestraws and oak leaves as I could from the peninsula of the sandbar. I stumbled back to Gayle and shielding it away from the wind as best I could, I dug out my Zippo lighter to desperately try to summon the strength and dexterity to light a fire.

The onset of hypothermia was evident in both of us. Unless I could quickly provide warmth, our metabolism would shut down and we would both die on that miserable little sandbar. I prayed hard as my thumb caused the rotation of the wheel of the lighter. Would it ignite? Had the immersion contaminated the lighter fluid? Would this be my final act of desperation?

Would I ever see my children again?

The wheel of the old metal encased lighter turned like the wheel of Fate determining our fortune. I watched as the first sparks flew about and then the weak flame appeared in the October night. I sobbed as I held it to the dry tender willing it catch fire. Slowly the flame crept among the leaves growing stronger and brighter. I fed more leaves for the flame to consume as it built and started to smoke.

I willed myself to leave and scramble for another load of precious straws and leaves. Then another and another. I told Gayle to strip out of her wet clothes as I made another run to the bank. Now I picked up small dried twigs to feed to the fire. When I returned to throw them on the fire I noticed Gayle had not complied with my order.

Again I told her to undress as I went back for another armload of leaves to persuade the fire to escalate to the ignition point of the wood I had placed on it. As I dumped the leaves on the fire and it smoldered momentarily. I angrily shook her and told her to get out of her fucking wet clothes before she died.

That snapped her awake and once again I saw the animosity light in her eyes. Good, the hate will keep you alive, I thought. I went to grab bigger branches as Gayle stood to her knees and began to strip out of the cold, heavy, wet sodden sweatshirt.

I wished I had the opportunity to relish that sight, but, I remained busy alternating carrying woods and leaves to the fire. I noticed she had turned away from me as she fumbled for the snap of her jeans. Still the sight of her bareback was enticing as she struggled out of the legs of the jeans.

By the next trip, her bra and panties had amassed on the pile of clothes and she huddled modestly before the fire as the warmth returned to her. I now had enough of a stockpile that I warranted it was safe for me to undress.

Ignoring propriety I shivered as I stripped naked before Gayle. Did she sneak a peek at me? I didn't notice and I didn't care. We were two islands of shivering humanity huddled around a campfire gaining warmth as though we were Neanderthals in the Ice Age. As our bodies slowly came back from the brink of death I noticed Gayle began to quietly cry. I tried to ignore her vulnerability and allow her the fiction of privacy as the implication of our escape became more pronounced.

Her quiet sobs turned into weeping and soon escalated into full scale hysteria. I couldn't standby anymore. I went to her and sat by her and forced her to accept my hug. I continued to hold her as she wailed into the frosty night. There was not an iota of sexuality in my gesture.

We were just two primitive beings stripped of the veneer of civilization trying to cope in a harsh unfeeling world. She buried her head against me and I caressed her just to connect to her. Just to let her know I was there to comfort her. She continued to accept me as the flame continued to warm us. Her crying convulsions ebbed and still she remained in my arms.

Then she looked at me and quietly said, "Thank you."

And with that, the magic spell was broken, and we became uncomfortable in our nakedness as I went back to my initial spot of neutrality. We both continued to stare into the fire from our respective positions. I broke the silence to tell her I would get some wood to put her clothes out to dry. As I got up she averted her gaze away.

When I returned with some suitable wood, I dumped it close to her and announced I was going farther into the bank for more wood. She recognized this as my effort to tell her I wouldn't invade on her privacy as she prepared her clothes. I waited as long as I could stand being away from the fire and then I returned.

To my surprise she had also lined out my clothes to dry as well. I quietly thanked her as again we averted away from each other. It must have looked comical from anyone else's perspective. Here we were, grown adults, away from all the world, sharing a life or death experience and we both couldn't overcome the awkwardness of simply looking at each other. It was though we both mutually agreed that we did not have permission to do so.

So we waited as our clothes dried. Both of us would experimentally test our clothes for dryness by reaching out and touching them. As the garments finally dried, we would turn away from each other and quickly dress. At long last, the heavier garments, the jeans and sweatshirts dried sufficiently to put on. Once we were both finally dressed it was time for our discussion.

"Gayle, we have to decide what we are going to do. Here are the obvious facts; we are stranded on the bank of the river, no one knows our predicament, we have no way to summon help since both our phones are fried from our swim. The only person that would miss us is your grandfather and he wont be back home till tomorrow.

Our options are; we remain on the bank and hope a boat rescues us, or, Robert returns and initiates a search for us when he misses us." I paused and continued, "Or I could leave you here with enough firewood, walk through the woods back upstream and get the boat and come down and get you. What would you like me to do, Gayle?"

Without hesitation she stated she wanted to get back home as quickly as possible. I had expected that answer. Everyone would have answered the same way without thinking of the implications and consequences of that action.

I would have to navigate the bank of the river upstream without light, shod only in tennis shoes among the sharp and knobby roots waiting to trip me. Into the unforseen briars and brush waiting to trap me. I would have to stumble into the chill of the October night and grope forward until I came to our boat and face one last test. I would have to voluntarily dive back in that frigid water and climb back into the boat, start it up, and in the cold chill air pilot the boat down to the sandbar to rescue Gayle.

I went into the woods a last time to gather firewood, quick burning pine and longer sustaining oak to tide Gayle over. I told Gayle that if for whatever reason I did not come back to stay with the fire and keep it burning. When it became daylight, chances were a boat would appear that she could hail to her rescue. I told her I would follow the contours of the bank, so, I should remain in earshot of any potential rescuers.

As I began to leave, Gayle threw herself at me in an impulsive hug. God, I wanted to stay there locked into her arms, but, I had made a promise and I had to fulfill it. I walked away from her and quickly was in uncharted territory as my eyes tried to adjust to the night. I walked with arms outstretched before me to warn me of any peril. I shuffled my feet slowly among all the brush and brambles scratching me.

Often I would reach an impasse of impregnable brush and have to navigate around it to return to my course. Often I would fall, each time racking my ribs in pain from my colliding with the unknown object in the river. I could tell in the dim moonlight where the river ran below me, inviting me once again to fall into its trap. I lost all sense of time as my journey continued shivering in the cold. How had we traveled so far in the rapid current of the river? A mile? Five miles? More? I began to despair from not finding the boat. I knew every second there was Gayle worried alone in the woods and that gave me fresh incentive to continue.

I rounded a rise in the bank and there it finally was. A dark silhouette silently bobbing in the river. I mentally began to prepare myself for that God awful cold I would have to endure again as I walked to the final steps upstream that would ensure that I would drift to the boat.

Summoning up the last vestige of my courage before I once and finally came to my senses; I jumped into the river for the second time voluntarily that evening. The bone chilling cold again introduced itself to my body. Suffering from another relapse I could sense my body quickly shutting down.

I would not have near the time as I had initially to respond. As the cold cramped my fingers I reached and grasped the boat ladder at the starboard side of the pontoon. Somehow I managed to climb aboard and hurried to start the engine. The trustworthy Mercury outboard fired up as I jumped to the toolbox and groped for the flashlight and knife that were among the items stored. Turning the light on I went to each anchor line and quickly cut through them and suddenly we were adrift.

I ran to the cockpit and moved the throttle forward for maximum speed as I turned on the navigational lights and entered the main channel assured I would not run aground or into any unseen hazard.

I felt the encroaching freeze working against me as the wind chill kept lowering my body temperature dangerously close to the point of no return. I squinted peering in the dark looking for signs of the campfire. There! That orange pinprick! Could it be?

I saw the form of a human dancing trying to wave me down. I shut off the throttle and killed the engine and allowed the momentum of the boat to wedge to a stop on the sandbar. The welcoming cheers from Gayle suddenly stopped as she saw my condition. It finally dawned on her what I had undergone and she rushed to assist me to get me close to the fire.