Joe didn't take his eyes off of Mr.Nibung for too long at any time and the old man didn't look like he'd do anything drastic. The El Camino's bed was a bit slippery but the trash bin at the far end was good enough for him to push against with his feet to not slide all over during the street turns. But once Vernard got the car onto the Interstate it was a lot less movement. The wind however absolutely trashed his hairdo. 

Mr.Nibung looked as if he had done this before and Joe didn't think of it as odd. He knew old people had a lot of experience and he found it a little absurd when people treated them as pure and free of sin or a dark past. "Ah yes! The I-5, I remember driving this little lemon down the highway when we were both young. Nowadays I only ever drive it on the streets." He laughed quietly, "Seeing your friend drive it on the highway made me realize I was babying too much."

Joe smiled, "Oh yea? 'n I bet you weren't alone back then huh?" He quickly learned to keep himself below the line of the El Camino's roof so that he could stay in the low-pressure zone that was created just behind the cabin. He had noticed that the old man had been sitting there all along with a smile. Joe shook his head, he should have paid more attention. What else had he missed?

From the Interstate 5 south, Vernard got onto Interstate 84. It was the longer Highway and it ran by the side of a river giving it a nice scenic view. Woods on the right and a line of trees on the left across the westbound traffic behind him. Beyond the trees, Joe could see the sparkle of the Columbia River at night. 

"Its a beautiful night to be out, isn't it?" His voice was calm and collected. Joe could only assume the man was at peace with what was going to happen to him.

Joe sighed and made no further comments. The old man sensed Joe's withdrawal and kept his words to himself. The two of them sat quietly as the car neared the state park. Exit 25 came and went. So did 26. Joe saw exist 27 and he looked into the car at the rearview mirror, looking at himself. Exit 28 arrived and the El Camino left the highway.

They rode along the scenic trail and stopped for a climb and hike. Both Vernard and Joseph were on edge as they made sure the old man made it to the top and kept their own balance in the dark. In the midnight hours the flowers wilt and hung their heads.

At the top of the waterfall, the three men sat for a while in silence. The roaring backdrop of the waterfall and river drowned out their thoughts. Joe pulled out a pack of cigarettes as well as his lighter and lit them each a smoke. Joe and the Old Man discarded their cigarettes but Vernard was smarter than Joseph and picked up his friend's discarded end before he forgot.

"Thank you for bringing me here. Once again I am where I most felt connected to the earth." The old man said just above the roar of the water.

"Don't mention it," Vernard whispered.

"The sky's eye looks tired as well. Look above." Mr.Nibung raised a hand up, pointing towards the waning moon. Joe didn't look. Vernard did, for a quick moment. "It is like she knows about tonight. She knows one of her children will soon join her."

Joe looked at the old man. He didn't want to drag this on any longer. "Soon is the word isn't it?" He clicked the safety off. For a moment Joe felt like he had been transferred into the old man's body. He saw his body smile a smile that was unnatural to himself as the gun's barrel raised up to aim between his eyes. His body felt weak And it ached. He heard his voice begin to say, "Before the morning light, this night bird will have taken flight. Something will happen now that has been felt from thousands of years ago. In the dark and in the silence our fears become a quiet roar. No judgment for the feelings that flood our hearts.  Mother of night, guide my heart. Father of light, don't forget me in the dark." He saw the trigger be pulled for a split moment the white muzzle flash before he felt hot blood splatter onto his face and clothes.

There was a ringing in his ears and he could hear the flapping wings of birds startled by the shot. He blinked a few times realizing he was looking at Mr.Nibung as the old man's arms raised for a moment from the residual reactions his body tried to do to save itself. He bit his lip and tasted the salty iron on his tongue. Mr. Nibung's shoulders slumped and his body fell backward. 

Joe felt his mouth pull tight into a thin line as he watched the old man fall down into the waterfall's pool below. He lowered the pistol, locking it once more. He got down onto his knees, hands to the dirt and smooth boulders. He looked down at the waterfall's plunge pool. Whenever he would visit this place, he'd have grave dirt on his shoes. But that wasn't just it. He was shocked by the experience that he had felt. He had shot...himself? No..the old man. His head hurt, ached. A head-splitting and nausea-inducing. His mouth watered and he felt like his stomach would twist and make him retch.

"What the fuck did you say, Joseph?" Vernard leaned in and took the pistol from his friend's hand.

Joe shook his head and spit. "I-i don't know. I don't even remember it all." 

"Are you some weird kind of religious? A prayer?" Vernard pulled Joe up onto his feet and began to usher him back the way they came.

"I don't pray..not like this. Not like that." Joe pointed towards where he knew they had parked the El Camino. He had a strange sense. But it was like he knew exactly where it was. Not just a vague direction. He kept pointing and Vernard followed the direction until they arrived at the car.

They climbed in and hightailed it out. Joe didn't want to speak of his experience at least not yet. He needed time to process it. It had been an out of body experience. It made him wonder, did the Old Man feel the same thing? Did he suffer...probably not right? His aim was good after all, he had seen it.