During night's murmur
I dream the ages of my life;
Birth to death
They are my rivers.


Fear

 

            Rain and clouds. Streams of muddy water flush off the cliffs above and splash around him.   At his feet the water pools into puddles.   Raindrops slap against his helmet with a hollow plastic sound, a constant tap-tapping, but he doesn't hear them.   Something grips his throat and limbs, filling his ears like the howl of the wind,  filling the canyon with a physical force, pressing on him so that he can hardly breathe.  A roar, gray and merciless.   

            He climbs along a narrow rock ledge above a river. On all sides cliffs rise out of the water until they disappear in misting heights.  Cautiously, feet and hands slide up the rock, slip, then catch on unseen edges.   Urgency crackles up and down his body.   He is alone.   What is this place? 

            The ledge ends.   Balance wavers while thin air reaches for him.  His throat tightens.  Stop.  Another step and you're dead.   Below, in front of him the canyon narrows, dark walls squeeze together and the river disappears around a craggy corner.  Behind him a steep ramp runs down to the restless water.  A boat at the bottom is clipped to a small horn of rock - a slim yellow form resting on the black  slab. Thoughts swirl like the water and he gropes after order, but the roar is inside him.  His hands shake.   The boat must be mine.

            Thoughts scatter.  He wills them into form, forcing them together one by one.  All his focus is inward and he doesn't see the dark forms that surround him, hiding above and below.  He looks up but they avoid his stare, lingering just beyond sight in the darkness, in the air, the mist and cliffs.  He can sense them threatening and muttering.  They dart toward him when he looks away, swelling closer and closer like a wave about to break - disappearing with a twinge when he turns back.   Little jabs spout like cracks in a dam.   He feels the push from behind them, huge, looming - a dark and foreboding presence.   Questions appear and trail off in ripples of confusion.  Where are you?   Nothing makes sense.  Struggling to keep his balance, everything he reaches for slips away.

            Dangers.  They are all around - obvious, objective problems.   He ticks them off matter-of-factly, as if driving down a busy street.  Watch your balance.   Don't slip.    There’s a loose block under your right foot, don't shift any more weight.  The boat is roped in, you won't lose it.   Don't get so cold you can't downclimb.  But underneath there is more.  A shiver and the hair on the back of his neck stiffens.   Something is wrong.  What is it?   

            His ears are ready for the sound.   A thin cracking far above, muffled first, then snapping closer and closer, irregular and louder.  Move.  NOW! He lunges and presses close to the cliff wall.   Loosened by the rain in the broken layers that rim the canyon - rocks are falling.   Leaping in great arcs, bouncing and clattering, they smash against the loose vertical bands that jut out like broken steps.  Barely protected by the slight overhang, they plunge past him with a loud whrrrumph vibrating the air, and explode on the ledge below.  Their fragments ricochet and crash into the water. 

            The water.  The source.   Below it's slate gray and alive.  Its gray claws well up and swirl against the rock walls. Squeezed together by the walls it brawls within itself, currents and whirlpools within currents, then erupts into the rapid.  He peers down, squinting, straining, but it's dark and misty.   He can't see the crux. 

            The rain patters.  Small pebbles click and smack from above.   His insides are fragmenting, peeling apart.  Be calm.  Focus.   He steadies himself, but there is no logic here.  You have to get down the canyon.  Urgency rises inside, burning a hole.   He swims in a pulsing and surging sea where there is no direction.  The rain is cold, the gusting wind chills, the mist hides everything.  There is a relentless force pulling...  You have to make a decision.  

            Details dissolve, other things shape themselves within the roar and he peers down again.   A feeling of cold familiarity stirs, faint as if a memory from far away.  He has been here before, long ago - alone in a place where every move is filled with doubt, where threats hide everywhere. As he stares downward, figures appear in the water, turbulent faces with strange cries, and all the questions he ever asked rise around him, flitting like bats from the crevices, reaching out of the mist and the gray water.  

            Ghosts.  They are all here, every one of them.  You never got rid of a single one and now they've returned.   He closes his eyes and leans against the wet rock.  The raindrops hit with their endless tapping...

 

            You're scared, aren't you?  You usually don't admit it except to yourself.  Even when you try to be honest, confidence is powerful. Strength and control are powerful. But they don't solve the problems, they blind you.

            He can see his three-year old son, sobbing and frantic when left in the basement.  You left me alone!   Each one of the children’s nightmares comes back and he hears them cry out. What did they see in the dark? 

            Daddy, help me, help me!

            Black spiders crawling on my legs.  I can't get them off.

            A snake.  It will bite me!  A giant snake on a high mountain. 

            Mom!  You were dying! 

            Men were hurting Daddy, and I couldn't help him.

            And others, many others. Worst of all, one that is formless and nameless.  The one that is everywhere in the dark and can't be fought.  Who hasn't cringed before it, weak and helpless?  It is a mountain whose roots reach deep into the earth, whose shadow reaches across the years.  It is a river flowing - fluid, changing, taking every shape.  It is an unseen creature - powerful and terrifying, lurking in the darkness and ready to attack.    

            Daddy!  I'm afraid.   

            But what are you afraid of, little one?

            The dark.

            Why? 

            I don't know.

            He had laughed afterward with his wife, but they knew better.   They had their own worries, their own anxieties and fears.  She, checking the noises in the basement, and you - what is your fear? When he could finally look, there were so many.  Of losing control, of being helpless.   And the children - closeness laying him bare to pain like an open wound.   They are so vulnerable, he is so frightened for them - what if something happens?   A friend, strong and capable, the water throwing him helplessly like a rag-doll, fighting for life, dragged under and drowning.  He watched in horror with every fiber straining to help, but there was nothing he could do.  The fire - a man dying, burning to death and he couldn't help.  Their cries echo and echo.

            The ghosts circle like a mob, edging closer. They waver, dancing grotesquely, feinting and threatening.   They reach toward him, his sleeping children, and his friends.  The points jab, flames sear and blister his skin. The pain, the pain...

 

            The rapid must be unrunnable.  There's no way to portage or climb out.  The roar is everywhere.   All his strengths, all his years of training and experience feel like nothing.   

            He is next to the boat, hunching against the cold, wet rock.  The roar goes on and on.  It has filled him.   Cold and shaking, his arms are heavy, impossible to move.  The river pushes relentlessly and there's no way to reverse anything.

            What is the truth?  

            It is dark and you are alone.   

            What is here?

            Everything you fear.

            More rocks crash into the water, hitting on either side of him with a deep kaboom and a huge splash.   I didn't even hear them coming.    A faint clattering sounds from far above, barely discernible.  More are falling.  

            I'm totally exposed.  He shivers from the cold, and the rain slants down with its incessant tapping.  Fog shrouds the upper reaches of the canyon.  It's windy, growing darker.  The clatter above races nearer and nearer.  I'm going to get hit... 

            He is in the boat, but this is not a river.  There is no escape and no way out.   Escape is meaningless because only one direction has ever been possible.   And so he slides into the living power, out into this river that is not a river.  Into the uncertainty and unknown.  Into the roar.  

 

***