As Dry as the River - A Short Story

Aiden pulled the cap snug onto his head. He'd just gotten it for his eighth birthday and wore it with pride on a daily basis. A genuine Boy Scout cap, grey-green and beige. His dark navy Cub Scout hat sat neglected in the corner, a shameful reminder of his age.
Looking out the window, he beheld the sun's rays peeking out over the hill that dominated the backyard. In Aiden’s mind, it was a mountain that loomed over the neighborhood, complete with a sheer cliff. His mother forbade playing on its edge, even though Aiden possessed no knowledge of a path to the cliff. He theorized two potential origins for the cliff, which transgressed into the boundaries of their backyard. Aiden posited that it formed either from a cataclysmic mudslide, or some sort of human excavation. The mass of white and brown chalk rock that the wall regularly deposited at its bottom made him think the former more likely.
Once, while splitting open the soft rocks for fun, Aiden beheld an imprint of a shell. His mother explained that in an era long since past, water and sea life covered the area. Now the hills were dry, as dry as the river. Only the fossils remained from that lost age.
All summer, Aiden had played in the shadow of the mountain. Today, he embarked on his last great excursion of the year. He would map the river bed that coiled around the left side of the mountain. Crayons and folded construction paper sat stuffed inside his pockets.
He thundered down the steps, running around the corner into the kitchen. The door to the backyard lay at the other end. His mother, towering and gentle-faced, stood between him and the outdoors. Aiden stopped in his tracks. She knelt down before him.
"You look ready for adventure," she said, pulling lightly down on his clothes.
"I'm going exploring!" Aiden proclaimed.
"Oh, how brave of you!" She rose, grabbing a granola bar from the heights of the kitchen cabinet. She handed them to Aiden. "In case the adventurer feels hungry before lunch."
"Thank you!" Aiden said, just as instructed.
He marched proudly out the door.
"Have you seen Fake Koko today?" His mother called after him.
Fake Koko was a stray that they adopted - or rather, that adopted them - a few years prior. The original Koko, from whom the newer cat bore an uncanny resemblance to, stopped showing up half a year ago.
"No," Aiden said, turning back and looked at his mother. "I saw him yesterday." He kept on walking.
"Don't go too far!" he heard her shout as he walked. “And get back in time for lunch!”
At the edge of the square of short-cut lawn rose a wall of vegetation his mother never mowed. The grasses grew taller, almost as high as his shoulders. He waded through an emerald ocean.

The weeds around him transitioned from green to brown as he walked away from the neighborhood. Emerging from the grass, Aiden turned left and trudged downhill, stepping quickly but carefully. On his right, the mountain edge cut through their backyard at an angle. On his left was the slope down to the river bed, long since dry even before the drought.
By the time he reached the top of the river banks, nothing but dried cattails sprouted out of the ground before him. Their seeds already lined his socks, scratching at his ankles like claws.
Aiden looked over the riverbed, deeply eroded in the landscape, admiring its curve around the mountain and out of sight. Immediately before him, old oak trees grew over it, covering the silt and rock with a deep green sheathe.
He worked his way down to the very edge, slowly, and looked down at the familiar pieces of wood, lodged in the face of the rock. He sat down, then turned onto his stomach and shuffled down. He felt his foot touch the first rung of the ladder, and planted his foot on the wood.
Aiden discovered the ladder during the previous summer, but only descended a handful of times since then, incapable of mustering up the courage most days. He wondered what sort of brave adventurers installed it, and when. Perhaps they were sailors, venturing down to the now-lost river below, or scouts, mapping the dry riverbed. Aiden fancied himself part of a long tradition of explorers.
As he stepped down onto the next rung of the ladder, the wood splintered under his weight.
The fall was no smooth cascade. Instead, his body found a way to hit each and every rock on the way down. Aiden finally skidded to a stop on the soft dirt of the river bed, a landslide of rocks and wood and boy.
Coughing, Aiden pushed himself up. His legs, scraped up from the fall, bled in a few places. The injury, though minor, would worry his mother. He could withstand the sting of it, but his mother panicked at the first sign he’d experienced danger. Pride rose in Aiden’s chest as he wiped his eyes and found no tears. Crying showed weakness, the Boy Scouts had told him, and the weak could never become true Boy Scouts.
Aiden looked behind him. Only the highest rung of the ladder remained intact, far out of reach. The sides of the riverbed, horizontally homogenous, featured vertical grooves, eroded from rains of past ages. A poor surface for climbing. He scratched his bare head, wondering how he'd get back home.
His eyes widened. The scratch escalated into a frantic head patting. Aiden spun around, scanning his surroundings. Searching proved difficult in the dim light that filtered through the leaves. At last, he spied his hat in a pile of debris. He sprinted over and picked it up.
Hat once more firmly on his head, Aiden took another look towards the ladder, and then looked down the riverbed. The ladder was gone, but he felt confident that he could complete the climb up nonetheless.
The dirt compacted beneath his feet as he walked away from the cover of the trees. He wondered why the dirt was so soft, contrasting starkly with the hard ground above. He welcomed the discovery. As he noticed it, he paused, and stomped an unmarked spot by him. He chuckled, and inspiration struck him. He jumped around him, stopping after each leap and admiring the crater left by the impact. Aiden smiled wide, and sufficiently convinced that he had created the deepest hole possible, began moving on again.
The sun beat on the back of his neck as he emerged from the shadows. Sweat beaded down his forehead, and his stomach grumbled. Fumbling around in his pocket, Aiden pulled out the granola bar and unwrapped it. He ate it in three swift bites, his overstuffed mouth chewing the mass with difficulty. After a few moments, he’d achieved his victory over his snack, sending it to its doom in the pit of his stomach.
He stuffed the packaging, shiny chrome insides revealed, back into his pocket. It crinkled noisily as he walked. The sound annoyed him, but he resisted the temptation to throw the trash on the ground. His mother always told him that big boys don't litter.
Aiden spied a gradual slope on the right of the riverbed before him, obviously scalable. He rushed towards it. The ascent, though steep, require no use of his hands. He stepped carefully, steadying himself. The ground leveled out for a brief bit, before it continued sloping up towards the mountain. Turning around, he beheld a panorama of the riverbed, just the sort of view he’d searched for. Aiden sat down, crossing his legs, and pulled out a folded square of white paper from his pocket, as well as a purple crayon.
Resting the now-unfolded sheet on his leg, Aiden began sketching the path of the river. On the right side of the paper he placed a large triangle for the mountain, and a few centimeters below that he drew a square for his house. The paper folded and creased as he drew, much to his dissatisfaction. Looking upon, Aiden could see that the river bed originated from behind the far side of the mountain, curved into view from the right. He knew that the river turned left soon after passing the mountain, away from his house. Grasping his crayon with confidence, Aiden drew two curved lines, like parallel integral symbols. He pulled a tan crayon from his pocket and shaded in the gap between the waxy banks.
His stomach growled again, already unsatisfied with his first offering, and suddenly Aiden realized that his mother expecting him home shortly. The sun sat directly above him in the sky. He had spent too much time playing in the silt. Aiden looked once more at his map. Judging the river properly charted, he folded it up once more and returned it to his pocket. He descended back to the river bed, occasionally slipping on the decomposing rock slope but never falling.
The path of his footprints lead him back to the shadowy canopy, where the craters of his leaps dotted the dirt. Aiden traversed the moonscape with a steady pace, paying no attention to the fruits of his previous labor, now regarded as a careless frivolity. He reached the wreckage of the ladder at last. The grooves of the river banks rose before him, and he could see the brilliant clear sky above through a gap in the trees. Climbing up would be an easy enough task for an accomplished explorer.
Aiden walked up to the bank, and grabbing the grooves with his hand. He wedged his foot in between the rock and pushed down. For an instantaneous moment, he felt himself propelled up. His foot slipped from the rock face. He landed on his feet with a thud. Aiden frowned, and tried again. His foot slipped immediately this time, and he felt the rock scrape his palms as he held on tenaciously. Pouting, Aiden let go of the grooves. He kicked the broken wood of the ladder, sending it skittering, even though it hurt his foot.
With the shame of failure weighing heavily on him, Aiden pondered potential ways of returning home. Pulling out his map, Aiden looked for options. He could see only one, unfortunately time consuming, possibility: an adventure up the mountain’s slope.

Aiden returned to the spot where he created the map and continued up the slope, to the base of the mountain. That mighty hill rose before him, covered in oak trees and brush. He beheld a path leading up the hill, flanked by thick oaks on either side. As he wondered why such a path existed in the middle of nowhere, visions of explorers once more flashed through his mind. A grin spread on his face.
As Aiden started up the path, crashing noises began emanating from the bushes. He inhaled sharply and turned his head immediately in the direction of the noises. The explorers in his brain transfigured into lumbering ghouls, mountain trolls, freakish reptilian tripods. Monsters menacing the path back to civilization.
"Hello?" Aiden shouted into the brush, an attempt at sounding brave.
He breathed slowly, in and out. Aiden knew that it couldn't possibly be a monster like his imagination conjured. Anything so large could not avoid capture. The modern world lacked dragons for precisely that reason. But, as the rustling continued, he couldn't shake the idea that something smaller, like a Sasquatch, lurked within. He couldn’t trust a Sasquatch.
"Mr. Bigfoot?" He asked. "I'm not afraid of you."
The leaves on the edge of the clearing shook. Aiden tensed his muscles, preparing a mad dash away. A deer emerged from the trees, a tremendous stag. A grand rack of antlers adorned his head like a ceremonial crown too heavy to wear.
Aiden watched, wide-eyed, as the regal creature walked by him. The cervine giant dwarfed him. Hoping to avoid notice, Aiden took a slow step back. The gravel crunched noisily under his sneakers, and the stag stopped suddenly, fixing its eyes on him. Aiden looked into the eyes of the beast. The eyes, vast and black, did not seem empty. The deer acknowledged him, and continued on his way. Aiden waited until it vanished before continuing on.
Following the compacted dirt path before him, Aiden entered a small clearing amidst the trees. He saw a towering pine tree standing in the center, the odd tree out amongst an army of oak. A dirt trail split the weeds on the ground of the clearing, heading straight up the sloping ground to the evergreen monolith.
At the base of the tree, Aiden found some of the roots exposed to the air, revealed by erosion. The dirt smoothed out around the roots. Aiden saw a glint of silver from within, and hurried over in search of treasure. Instead, he found a collection of old soda cans, crushed into metallic discs. They smelled acrid, unlike any soda he'd ever consumed. Shards of green and brown glass decorated the ground like a profane church window. As Aiden looked about the roots, he spied a thickly rolled piece of paper tucked deep inside.
He imagined the den as being the one-time lair of an explorer, and that he had discovered the secret journals and maps of his predecessor. Grabbing the roll, Aiden felt the disappointingly familiar slickness of glossy paper. The magazine unrolled, revealing a picture of an undressed woman on the cover. With a frown, Aiden shoved the magazine back into the roots.
Aiden took a few steps back and gazed up to the heights of the pine's top. From there, he realized, he could see all around him, perhaps discover a way home. When camping with his Scout troop the month prior, he witnessed the older Boy Scouts climbing up trees without hesitation. On the rarely occasion of a fall, they responded with an adrenaline-fueled laugh, not tears.
Walking uphill slightly, Aiden grabbed onto one of the thick, low branches of the tree. Pushing himself up, he set his feet on a branch. He climbed upwards with speed that a spider would be jealous of. The higher branches sagged beneath his slight weight. After climbing sufficiently high, he sat on a branch and gazed out.
To his right, Aiden saw the riverbed, an indication that he was facing towards his place of origin. The patterned uniformity of the neighborhood spread itself before him. The sun, having risen behind the mountain, now fell towards the horizon behind the homes. The rising branches of the oaks below him cut off his view, obscuring his own home.
As a gust of wind blew, Aiden clutched to the trunk of the tree with one arm. He felt the air lift the hat from his head.
"No!" Aiden shouted, eyes wide.
He watched as it settled on the edge of a branch just below his. Grabbing nearby branches, Aiden lowered himself down. As he reached the branch, he began straddling it. Bracing himself on the branch with his one arm, he stretch out with the other. A good foot of open air remained between his fingers and the hat. Aiden shuffled further out on the branch. It creaked and bounced as he moved. Again, he reached out, this time brushing the hat with the tips of his fingers. The branched bobbed slightly. Aiden sighed, and stretched himself out against the branch. Small twigs poked against him. He reached out a third time, feeling the stretched within his arm muscles. Two fingers hooked around the brim of the cap.
Triumphant, Aiden sat up and returned the cap to its rightful place on his scalp. He climbed down steadily. As he reached the ground, he stared at the oaks in trepidation. Fear of losing his way within the forest surrounded him. As he stared at the trees, a low rustling began. The sound emanated from a specific area, not the general shaking created by a gust of wind. Aiden grabbed a stick from the ground, a large and unwieldy thing, and held it at the ready as he stared intently at the forest.
A small cat trotted out from the trees. "Mew!" The tabby walked towards Aiden and started rubbing against his legs.
"Fake Koko?" Aiden kneeled down and started scratching the ears of his cat, earning a loud purr in response. "This is where you play?"
Aiden wondered if the cat could be the original Koko. The original Koko bore a distinguishing blotch of white fur on its underbelly, an element that Fake Koko failed to replicate. As he bent over to pick up the cat, it skittered away from him, back towards the trees.
"Koko!" Aiden shouted. "Come back!"
The thought occurred to Aiden that his mother's inevitably bad mood could be mollified somewhat if his late return coincided with the recovery of the family cat. In fact, if he returned with the long-lost real Koko, she’d happy. He started creeping slowly over the weeds after the cat, calling its name in an encouraging tone.
"Mew!" The cat looked back at him.
"Come on Koko," Aiden said, nearing the cat. "Good girl."
As soon as he got near, however, the cat ran off to the very edge of the tree line. Aiden frowned and quickened his pace, stomping after the feline. It disappeared into the trees with the same rustling that heralded its arrival. Soon, the leaves went still, and he heard no sounds from the trees.
Aiden paused before the trees. The light of the sun, past the daily apex of noon, was beginning to dim slightly, and the dark maw of tangled branches before him offered little comfort. Behind him, finger-like clouds slowly spread across the sky. Knowing that each moment he waited let Koko run farther away, Aiden plunged into the oaks.

For the third time that day, Aiden found himself enveloped in the shadows of leafy branches. This forested path was tight, narrow, not the open playground of the riverbed. The branches that protectively enclosed earlier now grasped out, scratching him with rough bark. Aiden trudged forward into the dark unknown, crunching oak dead leaves and twigs between his shoes and the hard ground. The wind pulled itself through the tangled branches, and Aiden shivered slightly in the dark.
The wind billowed every few minutes, showering him with new leaves. Each time, he worried for a brief moment that it was actually the rustling of a monster’s approach through the trees. He knew that adventurers occasionally found monsters when venturing forth into the unknown. Aiden desired no such encounters. He had not set off that day to prove his martial prowess. Not only that, but an encounter with a monster would certainly scare off Koko.
Since journeying into the woods, Aiden had seen no sign of the cat. He tried to remember how long he had spent in the forest, but the shadowed darkness of the trees gave no clues about the passage of time, or about distance traveled. The branches obscured the sky entirely, save for minuscule specks of blue.
A branch snapped as Aiden pushed it out of his way. As the broken end fell to the ground, the part still attached swung back and scratched his arm. He gritted his teeth as he felt the sting of the wound.
"Are you there Koko?" Aiden whispered, weary of attracting unwanted attention.
"Mew!" The sound came from ahead.
Aiden saw nothing of the cat, but felt encouraged by the cat's meowing. He continued down the slope, stepping carefully. Slippery piles of leaves coated the ground, and he wished to avoid an embarrassing fall. His mother worry enough upon seeing the scrapes his shins bore.
Feeling a tickling sensation on his arm, Aiden looked down and spied a tick, small and black, crawling upon his skin. Disgusted, Aiden stuck out his tongue. He grabbed at it quickly with his other hand and squished it between his fingers. He guessed that the cat likely hosted a few of the parasites itself. Fake Koko, having avoided his mother for a week, would be vulnerable without his monthly anti-parasite concoction. He wiped the debris off on his shorts. He ducked under a branch of another oak tree. Hearing a rustling above, he looked up.
"Mew!"
The cat sat on a branch of the tree, just above the reach of Aiden's arms. The branch ran just about parallel to the ground, and was in fact not a branch at all. Looking at the tree as a whole, Aiden realized that the trunk of the tree, diverted from upward growth, split off in a variety of directions. Unlike the pine that reach high towards the sun, the oak spread itself out in a wide radius. The cat stood up and started walking towards the end of its perch.
"Come here," Aiden whispered. He started making kissing noises at it, mimicking his mother's usual calling. "Please?"
"Mew!"
Aiden jumped up, grabbing one of the branches that split off towards the ground. The tree shook slightly, and the cat leaped down.
"Koko, I'll give you all the chicken treats you want when we get home," Aiden said.
He sighed as the cat pranced down the hill, under the branches of more and more trees. It, at least, knew where it was going. All Aiden knew was what direction to walk in.
"Ooh!" Aiden said aloud, struck by sudden realization.
Aiden looked behind him, up the hill, and then back towards the cat. The path he took in following Koko headed in the very direction he needed to travel. He realized that as an animal, the cat knew the way through the trees. Koko wasn't running away, but leading him home.
"Thank you Koko!" He shouted.
"Mew!" The cat continued down the hill.
Aiden took a big step forward, and immediately slipped on the leaves. He felt his ankle twist, and groaned. Sitting down, he rubbed his ankle. Aiden wiped the beginning of tears from his eyes, thankful that nobody could see. Breathing deeply, he stood up and limped after the cat.

The shadows of the trees grew steadily darker. The cat increasingly blended in with the leaves on the ground. The pain in his ankle remained, though now a dull whisper. Despite his cautious steps, he crashed noisily through the trees.
The ground began leveling out, and Aiden smiled. He imagined Koko leading him down an obscure path, never before tread by humankind, to the bottom of the mountain. This convinced him that the cat was indeed the original Koko, mysteriously returned. Fake Koko, a self-interested animal, would never provide him such a service. The cat dashed through the final, thick branches. Aiden followed, creating another cacophony of breaking branches. As Aiden stepped through, a burst of sunlight attacked him. He was thankful for the protective brim of his hat.
The mountain's edge waited for him beyond the trees.
Aiden swiftly halted and gazed out over the drop. He could see his house and the yard of tamed grass. The blue sky above, dull now, waited on the edge of a transition to the warm tones of sunset. He steadied himself, and looked to both sides. While there were no clear and easy paths down, he could see now that the cliff was not as totally shear as he once believed. Steeper than anything he had ever climbed before, indeed, but not as vertical as the banks of the river. The cliff possessed just enough of an angle to make a climb down possible.
Looking at his house, he realized that he could call for his mother. If he shouted loud enough, she could hear him, and come ready with advice on making a safe descent. A safe, boring option. A climb was classic exploration, a brave scout scaling an unconquerable mountain.
"Mew!" The cat rubbed against his legs.
Aiden watched as Koko started her own descent down the cliff. The cat walked carefully, rock to rock, in a measured descent. He observed intently, making mark in his brain of the rocks that held. When the cat vanished out of sight, Aiden began following her instruction. Sitting down, he lowered himself onto the ledge below, and then turned around and hugged the cliff. The limestone imparted white dust onto his hands, uncomfortably dry. He looked down, trying to remember which rock the cat used. Aiden squinted as the sun shone brightly in his face. Making his decision, he swung his foot over to the rock, which remained solid beneath his weight.
Aiden shuffled over, his human legs long enough to skip some of the rocks that Koko used. The next rock was a step down. He grabbed onto the rock face with both hands and gradually moved one leg down below. The whisper of pain in his ankle became a scream as it bore all his weight. It sighed with relief as he planted his foot, redistributing the pressure.
“Koko!” He looked down, searching for a sign of his cat.
The cat, vanished from his sight, made no reply. By now, Aiden had traversed the full length of what he knew of the cat's path. On his right he saw nothing but the flat rock face. He could only go left, towards the river.
Aiden shook his head, chasing last thoughts of calling for his mother out of his head. Braving the risk was what adventuring was all about. He moved his foot onto a rock.
His ankle, already sore, twisted again, and his foot slipped from the rock. Aiden grabbed hold of the rock wall uselessly. Two rocks were easily wrenched from the wall, and he gripped them tightly as he fell. Aiden stayed close to the rock face during the fall, and it tore at his skin and clothes even as it disrupted the momentum of the fall.
Aiden impacted on his leg, his ankle giving a loud pop. He could not stop the tears now. Pushing himself up, he cried out as the pain shot through him with a deafening roar. Suddenly Aiden understood just why adventurers were so rare. With adventure came pain, struggle, and disappointment. Aiden pulled the cap off his head and clutched it in his hand at his side. Through his tears, he could see his house in the distance. He limped towards it, dragging behind him a broken ankle and a shattered dream.
“Koko?” Aiden whispered once. He neither saw nor heard any sign of the cat. Silence kept him company.
The sea of grasses drowned Aiden as he stumbled forth. Loosening his fist, the cap dropped into the tall grass. As he reached dragged himself onto the trimmed grass of the lawn, the sky started its crimson transformation. Aiden dropped to the ground, the green blades scratching at his skin. He let loose a monstrous cry, not caring who knew his weakness. He saw the open backdoor fly up, and his mother stormed out. She pulled him into her arms before he even realized it. His mother lifted him up in her arms, asking questions faster than he could answer. She carried him inside, to warmth, safety and security.