Part 41 (1/2)

CHAPTER 60.

MARA SAT AT the cluttered desk in her mother's small office upstairs trying to figure out how to spell Hyas Tyee Tumwater. After a couple unproductive attempts, the search engine displayed a link with a spelling for which it had results. She clicked to accept the suggestion. Her eyes widened when she read the first result.

”It's Willamette Falls. Hyas Tyee Tumwater is what the settlers called Willamette Falls. It's Chinook jargon, Native American,” Mara said.

Ping leaned over her shoulder ”That's close to Oregon City, isn't it?”

”Yeah, it's near downtown, just a few minutes from here.”

”Does it say anything about an altar?”

”There isn't that much information here. Some references to Chinook languages and phrases, and the history of the area. How can an altar be in the middle of a waterfall? That doesn't make any sense.”

”Perhaps the name just refers to the area. It doesn't necessarily have to be in the middle of the river. Do a search for Willamette Falls. Maybe we'll see some references that make more sense.”

Mara entered Willamette Falls. The first result was a link to Wikipedia. She clicked on it and scanned the information.

”Blah, blah, natural waterfall, fifteen hundred feet wide, forty feet deep. Ca.n.a.l and locks were closed in 2011. Native American legends believed the falls were put there by a great G.o.d so they would have fish to eat. I'm not seeing anything about an altar.”

”Go back to the search results. Let's look at a map of the area,” Ping said.

Mara hit the Back b.u.t.ton and clicked on the Maps link. A map of the Willamette River filled the screen with a red pointer indicating the falls at its center. ”I'm not seeing anything very helpful here,” she said.

”Click on the satellite option. Let's look at an actual picture of the area.”

The map was replaced with an overhead photograph with the red pointer positioned in the center of the river surrounded by a series of craggy outcroppings and old buildings that came together roughly in the shape of a saxophone. The mouthpiece connected to the Oregon City side of the river and the horn attached to the bank of industrial buildings on the West Linn side.

”I think that's the ca.n.a.l and locks that used to allow boats to get past the falls,” Mara said.

”Perhaps she built an altar on one of those outcroppings or in one of those old industrial buildings along the bank.”

”If she did, we'll never find her. Look at that place. It's a maze. It would take forever to find her, a.s.suming we could get out there.” Mara clicked the Back b.u.t.ton again and returned to the search results page.

”What's this?” Ping pointed to a small square picture on the right under the heading People Also Search For. The caption under the thumbnail image read Oregon City Bridge.

”That's a picture of the Oregon City Bridge. Why?”

”Why did it come up in a search for Willamette Falls? Are they close to each other?”

”It's just down the river. You can probably see the falls from the bridge.”

”Show me on the map.”

Mara tapped the Back b.u.t.ton a couple times and returned to the map of Willamette Falls. She clicked and dragged the map from the upper right side and pulled it down, following the path of the river until a thick white line labeled Hwy. 43 crossed it. ”That's the bridge.”

”Switch it back to satellite.”

She clicked and the overhead photo of the river appeared.

”Can you zoom in?”

She clicked on the plus-sign icon in the corner of the screen a couple times. The photograph updated showing the approach to the bridge. The image was magnified enough to make out vehicles and streetlights.

Ping pointed to the side of the bridge. ”What are these?”

Mara shrugged. ”Pylons or columns of some kind.”

”Mara, those are obelisks.”

”Okay, they are obelisks.”

”Sam said his mother conducts rituals on altars surrounded by serpent pillars. Obelisks.”

Mara paled. She turned back to the screen. ”The bridge has obelisks?” Mara navigated back to the search page and entered Oregon City Bridge.

”I thought you grew up here,” Ping said. ”How could you not know that?”

”First of all, I generally keep my eyes closed when I cross bridges, unless I'm driving, then I just stare at the center line until I get across,” she said. ”Plus I think most locals don't really think of those as obelisks. Up close they look like pylons with lamps attached to them. It's not like they are monuments or something.”

”Undoubtedly that is where she is going.”

”Maybe not.”

”I think that's our best bet with the information we have. She'll want to conduct her rites near those obelisks, and I suspect they are powerful talismans for someone with her beliefs. They could be very dangerous to someone challenging her.”

”Well, if that is the case, then we're in trouble,” Mara said, looking up from the computer screen. ”The Oregon City Bridge has twelve of them.”

”She didn't pick this place by accident,” Ping said.

Mara shut down the computer. ”Let's get out of here.” She walked from the room. As she went down the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder. ”By the way, where is Sam?”

”I asked him to stay in the car, just in case we were walking into a trap,” Ping said. He slowed his pace. ”He didn't want to wait outside. I'm surprised he hasn't come in yet.”

They ran into the living room. Out the front window, even though it was dark outside, they could see Ping's car was gone.

”I can't believe I left him out there alone.”

”Let's check outside and see if he's wandering around. If not, we have a good idea where they are going. We can take Mom's car. It will take less than ten minutes to get to the bridge from here,” Mara said.

She turned toward the kitchen, heading toward the back door, when her foot hit the demantoid, her mother's green garnet. It was still on the floor where her mother's counterpart had kicked it. Mara picked it up and put it in her pocket.

A quick search in the front yard and backyard, and a few shouts in both directions down the street, indicated Diana, probably with Suter's help, had grabbed the car and Sam. Mara and Ping jumped into the RAV4 and turned down Center Street toward Singer Hill Road, the route connecting the top of the bluff on which the neighborhood perched to Oregon City's lower elevation.

”Just keep going straight until you see the road slope, swing left and go down the hill. You'll turn left on Main, and the bridge will be a few blocks down,” Mara said from the pa.s.senger seat. ”It's getting late. There shouldn't be much traffic on Main in the middle of the week. There's not much open down there other than some bars.”