Surviving the Improbable Quest Read Free

knowing that his dad would approve.
    Rubic forces Allan’s wheelchair over the pine needles and rocks to the river. He spins Allan around and drags the chair into the rocky-bottom river, moving slowly so as not to disturb the fish. The water soaks Allan’s shoes and jeans, but it doesn’t matter. He’s a paraplegic now, so wet shoes mean nothing anymore. If you ask him, he doesn’t belong on a secluded mountain, between tall canyon walls and in a river trying to fish like a normal boy.
    The river is the width of a two-lane road and around two feet deep. According to Rubic, it’s filled with fish because no one ever comes up to this part of the mountain. The roads leading to the campsite are dirt, the pine trees as tall and dense as they get, and there are no showers or toilets or trailer home hookups.
    “Getting far away from it all is the only way to escape the jerks in the cities,” Rubic had said on the bumpy drive up the mountain. Allan had thought about pointing out the fact that the back of the truck was filled with camping chairs, tables, air mattresses, a stove, lanterns and other comforts, but didn’t say a word. He couldn’t speak; after all, his voice didn’t work anymore.
    Rubic pulls Allan’s chair to the middle of the river and locks the wheels. The tires settle into the small, smooth rocks an inch or so. “Don’t worry about your chair getting’ wet. It’s stainless steel and aluminum. Besides, you’ve gotta get in the water to fish a river.” Rubic shows Allan how to tie the hook to the line, where to secure the weight and how to impale the worm on the hook. “It’s gross, but you get used to it. Remember the end game. Fresh worms catch the biggest fish.”
    Rubic casts into the river then reels the line in. He does it over and over then lets Allan try. Allan’s cast sends the hook wild. It whips around and zings above Rubic’s head.
    “Whoa.” Rubic ducks. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone has trouble casting when they first try. You should’ve seen your father. He was terrible at it. But before I knew it, he was catching fish bigger than mine.” Allan moves his fingers in the air wanting to type a note.
    “Sorry kid. No iPad out here. I didn’t want it to get wet. Just try and talk to me. Try and use your voice. Doc says there’s nothin’ wrong with your vocal cords.” Rubic waits, but Allan doesn’t say anything. He sighs then lets Allan return to casting. “You know, it’s amazing what our brain is capable of if we only give it a chance. We can think anything we want. We may not be able to change the bad things that happen, but we can change how we react to ’em. And if you want to talk again you have to start tellin’ your brain to do it. You can heal yourself, buddy, if you only try. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. Some guy named Oscar Wilde said that.”
    Allan feels bored already. He casts the worm into the river again and sighs. He doesn’t get any nibbles and can’t even see the fish. He should be here, standing on two legs, with his father. He reels the hook and worm back to the fishing pole and casts the hook far downstream.
    A rumble, like the bass of a large speaker blasting low frequencies, shakes the ground and disturbs the mostly placid river.  Overhead, the birds leap into the air and flutter away in panic. Snapping and cracking of trees echoes between the canyon walls. Allan and Rubic slowly turn to look upriver. The rumble grows louder and louder. A wall of water appears and crashes toward them. It looks like the teeth of a giant machine lashing out, crunching all that gets in its way. Trees fall, boulders slam into each other, and branches as sharp as spears fly downstream. Rubic hoists Allan out of his chair and runs. The water slows him, holding on to his legs like a million little hands. Just before they get out of the river the water hits them.
     

     
    Rubic’s feet sweep out from under him and he drops