Midday Clouds - The Charlie Swan Story

Chapter 37 (New Moon 26)

I pulled up to Harry's at about a quarter past seven. I saw him and Sue embrace, and kiss, before he hustled over to the passenger side of the cruiser a little faster than I would've liked. 

"I got a good feeling about today," he said, tossing his rifle into the backseat. "We're gonna find those pups, one way or another."

I admired his confidence. It was tough going over the past week; even with Harry's help tracking, we hadn't been able to nail down a single paw print. I could tell that the volunteers were getting antsy, though Smith was suspiciously quiet on his end of the investigation, and didn't seem all that eager about the wolves.

"Well, here's hoping we find something. It's a beautiful day to be out in the woods, at least."

"You're telling me! Holy, what a day."

The sun had just finished its rise, and the sky, though cloudy, was interspersed with openings of blue.

"I really am glad to have you along, Harry. It felt weird being out in those woods without you or Billy." The mention of Billy put a sad look on my old friend's face.

"As much as we miss having him there, I'm sure it's all the worse for him," Harry said solemnly. I nodded. So much of our childhood, teenage years, and early adulthood had been spent hiking the mountains, camping the vistas, and fishing the rivers of the woods around Forks and La Push, and when Billy lost the use of his legs, well, he also lost a lot of that world. It was hard not to feel a sense of guilt whenever Harry and I were reliving those days, like today.

"Wadaya say we swing by his after, bring over some beers and watch the game?" I asked Harry, and he seemed to perk up at the suggestion.

"Sounds like a great idea to me, Charlie."

—

A mist was settled on the topmost leaves as we made our way through the undergrowth. As head of the northern hunting party, it was my duty to take lead. I put Harry at the rear, figuring it would be the safest spot for him were we to come upon the wolves, and because, knowing the woods twice as well as the rest of us, he could corral any stragglers that veered too far off course. It was a comfort, knowing he was back there; I'd felt ill at ease wandering through the dark and dangerous woods without him or Billy. I was just beginning to actually enjoy the hike when we heard the sound of a twig snapping from somewhere above.

"What's that?" Jack McElroy grunted from my right.

"Shh," I responded as softly as I could manage. I hadn't heard of wolves moving from branch to branch—that was the domain of cougars—but I also hadn't heard of them growing so large, either, so who knew what these monsters were capable of.

"Chief! CHIEF!" I heard one of the Forks tagalongs calling from the rear. I was frustrated that he'd broken the silence and likely scared off whatever it was, but I could hear the urgency in his voice, so I came running down the slick slope.

What I saw when I finally made my way to the back of the column was more terrifying than any vicious cougar, monstrous wolf, or raging bear. Harry Clearwater, my fishing companion, my hiking partner, my oldest friend, was laying down in the mud, facing upwards, the look of horror in his eyes.

"Harry! Harry!" Was all I could think to shout as I splashed down beside him. His breath was short, eyes frantic, pupils dilated, and when they met mine I could tell that, if he could've, he would've been hollering something fierce.

"We'll get you outta here, Harry, just hold on." He was clutching his chest. I knew the signs of a heart attack from my years on the force, and I also knew the slim chances that folks had of recovering from one—especially this far from the hospital. But still, I got on my radio and called it in with the same urgency as I would've had we spotted the damn wolves.

"The team's on their way, Harry, you just stay with me 'til they get here, alright?" With one hand held firmly to his chest, the other found mine. There was still that old strength in him, I could feel it as he gripped my hand, and with nothing more productive I could possibly do, I used my other hand to gently wipe the mud and the dirt off of his forehead. "Just stay with me here, Harry. Just stay with me here."

He tried to talk. He tried to say something about Sue as he kept his trembling gaze focused on mine, but I told him to save his strength—a strength that I could already feel through his hand was fading. But it was his eyes that got me more than anything. He looked terrified. It was the same look he'd had when he broke his wrist down by the quarry when we were just boys. Panic and fear and remorse all rolled into two hazel marbles. Just as I'd done then, I tried my best to keep him calm.

It was ten agonizing minutes before Search and Rescue arrived, and another thirty before Harry had been medivaced out to the Forks hospital. I was with him every step of the way, and though it seemed like he was gone a few times, he was still breathing by the time we made it through the hospital doors. I felt close to having a few heart attacks myself, having believed him gone every few minutes. I'd called Sue on the way, and she was waiting at the hospital when we showed up.

"He's still here," I managed to say as we rushed down the hospital's halls, Sue joining the throng. "But he's weak."

"He's never been weak a day in his life, and he's not about to start now," Sue said with all the confidence of a loving wife. It bolstered my hope, which was much needed after seeing Harry die a half dozen deaths on the way in from the woods.

"Sue, I never shoulda... he never shoulda come out with me," I stuttered. "If he hadn't've been out there with me-"

"It would have happened somewhere else," she cut me off. "Likely alone, likely with no chance to get him to the hospital. I don't blame you for this, Charlie. And you shouldn't blame yourself."

But even then, I knew that was something I would never, ever, be able to do.

—

Harry Clearwater died at the age of 43 surrounded by his family and friends at the Forks Community Hospital on Thursday, March 16, 2006. He died of a heart attack he sustained in the forest north of Forks, Washington while part of an expedition tracking animals that had allegedly been the cause of missing hikers throughout the area. He was an outstanding member of both the Forks and Queleute communities, steadfastly volunteering with the Forks Police Department and sitting as a member of the Quileute Elders Circle. He is survived by his wife Sue, his daughter Leah, and his son Seth. He will be dearly missed.