Draft #2 Finished June 15
Beyond the downward sloping of the hill and past the marshes and sunken grape vines stood a man in work clothes. The prescription glasses on his face were far weaker than the pair of magnifying lenses in his pocket. Although it was a hearty spring morning, there was a certain autumn in his eyes. His gnarled hands pushed away the river grasses, which sprung back into place. He had traveled far from his house, which was at the top of the hill, and the treads of his boots were filled in with mud.
“How much farther until we can actually see the water?” I asked him.
“Not much further.”
The path that he had imprinted into the river grasses and weeds had already begun to dry. I looked behind.
“I’m just following the paths made by deer,” he explained. I nodded. I knew that would be how I could make my way back.
The heat slowly sank down until a faint sweat broke out on his face. He stopped at a large tree that seemed to mark where the waters should have been.
“This looks like one tree from the shore,” he began, “but it’s actually two trees that grew together.” He ran his hand down the slender bark of one tree. “This one’s dead.”
I didn’t say anything back. He kept talking.
“Some sort of fungus. Or something got to the heartwood. Or the other tree didn’t let it grow.”
Even on my tip-toes I still couldn’t see the water from this point. “Maybe it doesn’t like how low the river is this year.”
He frowned. “No, that’s not it. It’s survived well enough until now. But this tree is probably going to fall if the rotten one isn’t cut down.” Their trunks were joined where they emerged from the river grasses, but the two were of different kinds.
“I can’t ignore something like this for too long,” he said, and began to think about his chainsaws and wood tools. I turned away.
“Let me know if you want to talk about it some more,” I offered, then made my way back to his yard. Looking down from the top of the hill, he had become a thin grey line out on the riverbed. He may have made it to the water that day, but I would have to wait for another time, some distant day, to do the same.
The heat began to cool as clouds gathered and a faint rain fell on the dry riverbed.
