The Librarianist

Farther on and they came to a fir that had fallen fully across the river. It was wide enough to carry their weight but rested at a sharp incline and was covered with a coating of slick moss. They spoke among themselves and decided that in the spirit of resourcefulness this would pass for their bridge — but who would be first to cross? Ethan volunteered that Bob should do the honors; Bob countered that the honors clearly belonged to Ethan; Connie said she would go, at which point Ethan and Bob both pushed forward, each in a hurry to be the foremost conqueror. Bob arrived ahead of Ethan and clambered up to stand atop the broad base of the uprooted tree, looking down at his wife and friend as they looked up at him, Ethan encouraging Bob onward, Connie half-covering her face, scared of what might come.

Bob endeavored to ground himself. He considered the way across, the best and safest route he could follow; he breathed and made himself calm and now moved forward, step by step, arms out like a tightrope walker. It was not so bad when there was solid earth on either side of the tree but once he cleared land, and with only water underneath him, then did he become less sure of himself, his vision distracted by the fast-moving river. He was bending to achieve a crouch when he lost his footing on a slimy patch of moss and his feet went out from underneath him; he landed hard on his backside, sliding down the length of the fir and at such a sickening speed he hadn’t the time even to curse or exclaim in his mind. Happily, half-miraculously, he didn’t fall into the river, but was shot out onto the farther shore, rolling over fully twice before coming to rest in a tangle of branches. When he stood and turned, Connie and Ethan were jumping up and down and shouting and clapping, but he couldn’t hear them at all. He waved and noticed his hand was bleeding; also his backside ached. But nothing was broken, and he wasn’t seriously injured. In the wake of cheating disaster, he was experiencing something like euphoria.

Obviously, however, and in light of Bob’s crossing, it was established to be too dangerous for either Connie or Ethan to follow after; and neither could Bob return the way he’d come. And so, what came next? Across the river, Connie and Ethan were talking about the same thing. Ethan explained to Bob by hand gestures that they should all continue on in a northerly direction to seek out some other, safer passage over the water. Bob didn’t like this plan, but could think of no alternative, for there was none, and so the bisected group struck out upriver.

At the same time Bob’s euphoria was receding, his pain was growing more pronounced. His backside stung, and his hand was throbbing, though no longer freely bleeding. He trudged along, watching Ethan and Connie, who were enjoying a lively conversation. Connie was in the lead; whenever she called to Ethan he would rush up closer to hear, then shout out his response, and she would nod and he would nod and they went happily back and forth like this, without care or concern, certainly without concern for Bob, that he could see. He noticed that their path was leading them away from the water and into the woods. They still were blithely chatting as they disappeared behind a line of trees, unbothered to be out of sight. Bob was walking more quickly now, hurrying to reconnect with them; but long minutes were passing where he couldn’t see Connie and Ethan and though it wasn’t anyone’s fault, he felt he was being treated cruelly — that fate was behaving cruelly toward him.

A mile, and there was a sharp eastward bend in the river; once Bob walked clear of this he saw a little footbridge in the distance, and that Connie and Ethan were waiting on the far side, still immersed in their conversation. He crossed the bridge and came upon them; they looked up at Bob, untroubled, as though nothing was wrong. They welcomed him as an explorer back from the edge of the world, teasingly, not unpleasantly; but Bob was stung by a sense of exclusion, so that he wasn’t sure how he should behave just then. Connie inspected his hand but he took his hand back and said that it was fine; she asked if he was limping and he said that he wasn’t. Here was the very beginning of his realization that there was something dangerous moving in his direction, and that he wouldn’t be allowed to escape it, no matter what clever maneuver he might invent or employ.