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Authors: Jeff Noonan

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BOOK: The Deadly River
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They pulled in to the café parking lot and Dawn went inside. The two men got into Ray’s big pickup and they headed for the river, as Ray had promised. Soon they were on a dirt road that led to the spot where the St. Dubois River ran into the Clark Fork. When they reached the wide river delta, Ray turned off the pickup and they got out.

“Okay, Lee. I want you to walk about a hundred feet up the bank of the St. Dubois. Then go the same distance up the Clark Fork. When you’re done, let’s see if you can tell me what’s different about the two rivers.”

Lee did as asked, walking first along the bank of the smaller river, the St. Dubois. Ray accompanied him, staying mostly silent as they walked. When they had gone the requisite hundred feet upstream, Ray stopped him.

“Okay, let me tell you something about this river. It starts west of here, near the Idaho/Montana border, up on Lookout Pass. It goes through two or three tiny towns before it gets here, but most of the way it bypasses all the population centers, flowing through mountain gorges. A couple of miles upstream is a swimming hole that we’ve been using for years. There isn’t any business or industry along this stream’s route. You can drink this water if you’re thirsty.”

Lee squatted beside the river and, cupping his hands, tried a sip of the water. It was clear and sweet. He nodded and smiled at Ray.

The two then walked back to the car, turned right, and started up the bank of the Clark Fork River. Lee hadn’t gone more than twenty feet, when he stopped beside a small eddy in the river. “What’s that?” He was pointing at a brown froth that was floating on the water and lining the river bank. Where it had washed up on the river bank, the froth had hardened into a sticky web-like coating that covered rocks, sand and plants alike.

Ray smiled at the question. It was a slow, somehow sad, smile. “The Clark Fork originates east of here, over in the Butte and Anaconda area. Butte is a big copper mining town and Anaconda has the smelters that process the ore from Butte and some other Montana mines.
This river flows from the Anaconda area west toward Missoula. Near Missoula, it’s joined by the Blackfoot and the Bitterroot rivers, both of which have big sawmills dumping into them. From Missoula, the Clark Fork goes through four communities, including Big River with its big sawmill, before it gets here. What you are seeing on the river bank there is some kind of a chemical concoction that comes from the runoff from the mines, smelters, and sawmills upriver from here.”

Ray paused to wait for Lee, who had bent over to look at the water more closely. “Even the water under the froth is kind of yellow-brown color!” He stood, still looking at the river for a long period. Suddenly he pointed at a small mass of white and brown floating by them about twenty feet into the river. “What’s that thing?”

Ray chuckled, a sound that carried no mirth, “What do you think it is?”

“I hate to say it, but it looks like a turd with some toilet paper beside it”

“Yeah. Around here we call those things ‘Brown Trout’. If you stand here for a while, you’ll see plenty of them. We don’t eat the fish from this river.”

“You’re not kidding, are you?” Lee looked at Ray as if he was pleading for an affirmative answer.

“Nope. Just about every house and business on the river from here to Anaconda uses this river as a sewer. They just pipe directly from their toilets and sinks right down to the river. There’s even still a few that have platforms over the river with outhouses on them. Now do you see why Kurt Kochran is so outspoken?”

“Man, it looked so beautiful from the highway!”

“Yeah. I bet you’re glad you didn’t stop for a drink of water though, eh?”

“No kidding! But, how can people do this? It’s disgusting.”

“No one thinks. The general consensus is that it’s been this way for a hundred years and it’s just the way things are done around here. No one thinks about it and when a guy like Kochran comes along and shows people their bad habits, it doesn’t go over well. That’s why he’s become so unpopular.”

Ray stood there for a moment while both of them just watched the river flow by, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Ray spun on his
heels and walked toward the pickup. “C’mon. You’ve seen it. Now let’s go get some lunch.”

Lee couldn’t believe his eyes when they came in sight of the truck stop. Twenty or thirty people were milling around outside and every seat in the café was full.

Even Ray was astounded. “Wow! The mill guys got off work about a half-hour ago and it looks like a bunch of them must’ve decided to come here. They’re probably looking for gossip about last night. Big news, I guess.” He laughed aloud at the sight as he maneuvered the pickup through the crowd to his usual parking space.

Lee was not sure about all of this. “I’m going to sneak out of here, Ray. I think I’ll go over to the cabin and get cleaned up. I’ll be back for supper after this dies down.” Ray nodded his understanding.

But that was not to be this night. The crowd closed in around the pickup and there was no escape for either of them. Everyone had heard the story of last night’s encounter and wanted to hear more from the two of them. Lee didn’t want to say much and he deferred to Ray, who became the center of the crowd. But Ray didn’t let Lee off so easily. Coming over to where Lee stood, he placed one of his huge arms over Lee’s shoulders and began telling the story. In his story, Lee was a fearless fighter who had saved Dawn from a fate worse than death. By the time Ray got to the end of the story and told the crowd about Lee’s “John Wayne and Gene Autry” comment, the crowd roared with laughter. A big man in a logger’s clothes yelled “Three Cheers for the dude.” The crowd erupted in cheers.

Like it or not, Lee had a new name. For as long as he stayed in the little community of St. Dubois, he was affectionately known as “The Dude”.

CHAPTER SIX: LOCAL HERO

T
he crowd surrounded Lee and Ray, chattering excitedly about the events of the previous evening. This was apparently big news in the small town. Lee answered questions as best he could, but he was very uncomfortable. Ray, on the other hand, was open and boisterous with the crowd, most of whom were old friends. After a short time, Lee began edging toward the edge of the crowd, hoping to escape to his cabin.

Suddenly a huge arm was thrown over Lee’s shoulders and a booming voice in his ear stopped him cold. “Where you going, Dude?” This was followed by a loud laugh, a booming infectious laugh that both reassured Lee and startled him. He turned to face the laughter and found himself dwarfed by the huge logger that had started the cheering earlier. The big man stopped laughing long enough to say, “You need to stick around and meet the people. We’re good guys here in St. Dubois. I’m Mike Morse.” Then he held out his hand to shake, and laughed again.

Finally, Lee had time to actually look at the big man as they shook hands. He was startled to see that Mike was about his age. But Mike’s face was darker than Lee’s and was also far more weathered. The thought immediately crossed Lee’s mind that this man had not had an easy life. Additionally, the big man had the dark complexion and high cheekbones that told Lee there was at least some Indian blood flowing through the man’s veins. Lee smiled at him and answered, “Hi, I’m Lee”.

Another peal of booming laughter. “Naw. You’re the Dude. I like that better.” More laughter.

Lee suddenly realized that the laughter was the big man’s way of covering his nervousness. Big Mike was painfully shy and this effort to meet Lee had him stretched to his limits.

“Okay, Mike. Have it your way. I’ll be the Dude if that works better. I’m glad to meet you.”

Mike seemed to suddenly relax all over as Lee spoke. The laughter stopped and was replaced by a smile that seemed to light up his face. “We saw you trying to sneak off, Dude. Not a good idea. People will start thinking you’re stuck up or something. Give this crowd a few more minutes and they’ll drift off. Then we’ll buy you a Coke, if you’re up for it.”

Lee suddenly realized that Mike wasn’t alone. A shorter, very blond, man, also dressed in a lumberman’s heavy clothing, was standing to one side, partially obscured by the big man’s bulk. Now he stepped forward, right hand extended. “Hi. I’m Tony Mancini. Glad to meet you.”

“Same here.” Lee shook his hand vigorously. I’ll take you up on that Coke. You guys are the first people my age that I’ve talked to in a couple of months. Thanks for coming over, and thanks for the invite.”

They talked for a few minutes as they stood there. His new friends wanted to know all about where he had come from and what he was doing in their little town. Lee gave them his standard answer. “Just wandering around.” He had long since decided that the true story, that he was looking for a lake in a painting, was just too bizarre to tell people.

The crowd was starting to thin and the three were starting to move toward the café when they were interrupted by Ray Moore’s loud voice. “Hey Lee, wait a minute! Got someone here that I want you to meet.”

Lee and his new friends stopped to let Ray and the man he was leading catch up. The man came toward Lee with his hand extended. Lee stepped forward to shake as Ray boomed out, “Lee Raines, I’d like you to meet Kurt Kochran, the politician we talked about earlier.”

The man quickly objected to the description, but did it with a smile. “Whoa, Ray. I’m no politician. Just a small businessman who happens to be serving in the legislature right now.”

Lee was studying the man’s face and liking what he saw. Kurt was about the same size as Lee, with tousled brown hair and an engaging
smile. But what set him apart was something about his eyes. He had a way of looking at a person that seemed to penetrate to the core of one’s being. It was unnerving, but somehow friendly and honest.

Lee took the initiative now. “I’m very glad to meet you. I read about you in the paper and Ray’s been telling me about you. I like what I’ve heard.”

Kurt’s gaze suddenly fixed on Lee’s face, studying him. “I’m surprised, Lee. Why does someone so young, from so far away, get interested in our political battles here in the mountains?”

“I dunno for sure. But I crossed rivers in the iron and coal country in Pennsylvania that I thought were disgusting. The Ohio and Mississippi weren’t much better. I could actually smell them when they were nearby. Then I got out here and everything looked so clean and nice. I actually thought that I’d left the trash behind me. Then I read the article in the paper and Ray showed me the crap floating down the Clark Fork.”

Lee stopped to gather his thoughts, mentally squirming a bit as Kurt’s level gaze drilled into him. “I guess what really caught my attention is that some of you are trying to fix this before it gets worse. I never saw a sign of that kind of effort back east. Frankly, I’m impressed.”

Finally the politician seemed to relax and he smiled. “You’re quite a guy, Lee. I hope you stay around for a while.”

Lee started to respond, but big Mike broke in at that point. “Hey, he ain’t Lee. He’s the Dude. We renamed him.”

Kurt chuckled at that. “Mike, call him what you want, but he’s a good man. Take care of him.” Turning back to Lee, he again shook Lee’s hand. “I’m late for a meeting and gotta run. Lee, if you stay around here, I’d like to talk to you. Maybe we can help one another.” With that cryptic comment, he and Ray left. The three young men continued on their way to the café and claimed the table in the corner.

Mike, with his characteristic big laugh as a prelude, opened the conversation. “Dude, that Kurt Kochran really likes you. I wonder what he meant by the ‘helping each other’ business?”

“I dunno. He said that he was a small businessman. What does he do when he isn’t politicking?”

Mike shrugged, indicating that he didn’t know. It was Tony Mancini that finally answered. “He’s some kind of an engineer. I know that he does a lot of work designing roads and stuff like that. I’ve heard that he’s working on the design of some dams that the government plans to put further down the Clark Fork to generate electricity.”

“That’s cool. But I sure don’t know how I’d ever help with that. I’m no engineer, for sure.”

Just then the waitress came over to take their order. It was the same girl who had served Lee when he first got to town, so he greeted her with a cheerful, “Hi Betty.” He was rewarded with a big smile as she asked for orders. Lee followed the others’ lead and just ordered a coke. He was a bit hungry, but he decided to hold off for a while.

After the waitress left, Mike let out his big laugh and asked, “Hey Dude, you don’t waste any time, do you? Already on a first name basis with the best looking gal in town. Not bad for a dude, if I do say so myself.”

Lee grinned. He knew how to respond to this kind of friendly ribbing. “Well, you know how it is, guys. I came into town yesterday and she took one look and decided this was the best thing she’d seen in months. The rest just happened naturally.”

Mike’s normal, nervous laugh was nothing compared to the whoops he let out when he was genuinely amused. He was now and he let it be known. Between huge peals of laughter, he managed to get out, “Dude, you’re all right.” Then he slugged Lee in the shoulder in a friendly gesture that almost knocked Lee out of his chair. Big Mike obviously didn’t know his own strength.

BOOK: The Deadly River
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