From the Woods

by Charlotte Greene

  “Okay. Nice to meet you.”

  Roz gave her hand one more squeeze before letting it go, and Fiona had to force herself to put her own back at her side. Roz’s gaze had already wandered away from hers, and Fiona made herself look away again. It was going to be hard not to stare at her this entire trip.

  “I guess since we’ll be spending some time together, I ought to let you all know now that I’m an early riser, and I’ll expect the same from everyone this trip. I want to be on the trail no later than eight every morning.”

  “Sure, Roz, whatever you like,” Jill said. Her face, Fiona noted, was slightly pink, and Jill wasn’t hiding the fact that she was staring at Roz.

  “Alrighty, then. I see you guys packed light, like I suggested, so that’s good. After today, we have to carry it. Today we’ll be on the horses for about five hours, with a nice long break halfway. We’ll make an early camp this afternoon so you can adjust to the elevation. The guys leave with the horses tomorrow morning.

  “Fiona, I don’t know what the others told you, but after today, we’ll do about sixteen to eighteen miles a day the first half of the trip, and twenty to twenty-two the second. If we keep to the schedule, we’ll have one day about halfway for a break at the hot springs. We’ll head northwest for the first three days, then basically due north after that. These guys,” she gestured at the assistants, “will meet us in our final campsite with the horses on the third, and we’ll ride out with them to the trucks on the fourth. That means almost two weeks of hard work. How’s that sound?”

  Fiona managed a quick nod. “Sounds good. I’m ready.”

  Roz smiled at her. “Glad to hear it. Now let’s get these packs tied up to the horses, and we can be on our way.”

  As Roz walked away out of earshot, Jill staggered a little, grabbing Fiona and Sarah’s arms as if to steady herself.

  “Oh. My. God. That smile, guys. Jeez.”

  Fiona laughed and pushed her away. “Get ahold of yourself, Romeo. She wouldn’t give any of us the time of day if she wasn’t being paid.”

  Jill raised an eyebrow, frowning. “I don’t know about that. She was awfully friendly when we met her in May.”

  “Yeah,” Fiona said, “’cause it’s her job, genius.”

  “Maybe. But who knows what it’ll be like when we’re out in the woods by ourselves for a few days? Slim pickings might open doors.”

  “Or tent flaps,” Carol said.

  “Hey!” Sarah said. “I’m standing right here.”

  Carol swatted her arm playfully. “A girl can dream.”

  Roz gestured from the horses for them, and they lugged their packs over to her. There were two extra horses for the gear. They put two packs on one, three on the other, the assistants’ overnight bag fitting into a single pack on the first gear horse. Fiona’s was the lightest of their bags, and Roz was able to hold it up one-handed as she strapped it on. They’d been directed to avoid going over a quarter of their body weight, and as Fiona was the smallest of anyone, hers weighed five pounds less than the others’.

  Almost all of her pack’s weight was food—a pound a day of calorie-dense meals and snacks. She also had a headlamp and extra batteries, a lightweight, extra-warm sleeping bag, a change of clothes and extra underwear and socks, long johns, a waterproof jacket, her inflatable sleeping pad, and a few toiletries. The others had cookware and water filters, so she didn’t need to carry any of that except her own plate, spork, and cup, and some matches. She was sharing a tent with Jill, but Jill had agreed to carry the entire thing to help her out. All in all, she could manage her load, but she was still looking forward to later in the trip when the food weight decreased.

  Last week, she and Sarah had gone together for a quick tutorial on horseback riding at a local ranch, but now, as Fiona mounted her horse, she realized that it had probably been unnecessary. These were trail horses, calm and quiet, taught to follow the lead horse, ridden by Roz. Still, the lesson had made her a little less nervous about the whole thing, and the idea that the ride would last only part of today was comforting, too. Her horse’s ears were soft and black, twitching slightly. She patted the side of its neck, and it turned toward her slightly, whinnying softly.

  “Nice horsey,” she whispered.

  “All set?” Roz called from the front.

  Fiona was three horses behind her, near the middle. Everyone called out in reply, and they started, Fiona’s horse moving on its own. The horse was placid, the bobbing minimal, and once she’d gotten used to the feel of riding again, her stomach gave a quick flutter of excitement. This was really happening.

  Chapter Three

  They made it to the spot for their lunch break with little effort. It was slightly after noon when they dismounted, and when Fiona checked her watch, Roz made an announcement.

  “Uh, oh, I must have forgot to tell everyone else, so Fiona, don’t take this personally, but no watches or any other technology besides your lights are allowed on this trip.”

  “Wait, what?” Jill asked. “Not even my GPS?”

  Roz shook her head. “Especially not that.”

  Sarah frowned. “Is that some kind of rule here?”

  Roz shook her head again. “It’s a personal one. I promise you won’t even miss them in a couple of days. Make a pile here, please,” she pointed, “and the guys will keep everything safe for you until we see them again.”

  Fiona and the others looked at each other. They, like her, were all clearly trying to decide whether to argue. She saw Sarah and Carol share that silent exchange of theirs and Carol shrugged. They started taking off their watches, and Fiona followed suit. She set it in the pile and took her phone out of her back pocket, placing it near the others. She’d put it on airplane mode back at the gas station, knowing they’d lose service a few miles down the road, but useless or not, it was strange to let it go. Jill held back a little, obviously livid. Her face was red, her lips pinched, and she was clearly doing everything she could not to say anything. If Roz noticed this reaction, she didn’t say anything, instead walking away to check in with her assistants and the horses. Jill let out a little breath of frustration when she was far enough away not to hear.

  “The nerve!”

  “Oh, give it a rest,” Carol said. “What difference does it make? The watches don’t matter, and it’s not like our phones work back here. I’m kind of glad they’ll be safe. I should have left them at home.”

  “Okay, but like, what about my GPS? I wanted it to track our progress and the trip for my blog post when we get back.”

  Carol stared at her levelly. “And? So you don’t get to do that. Are you going to let it ruin the whole day?”

  Fiona was surprised. Of their friend group, only Carol could get away with challenging Jill like this, and she didn’t usually bother. Carol was fairly placid and even-keeled, rarely letting other people rile her. Even when she did challenge Jill, she almost never called her on her pettiness, as that usually meant that Jill would sulk even more.

  “Fine,” Jill said, ripping off her watch. She threw it onto the pile and dropped her phone next to Fiona’s. She held her GPS, stared at it, and then set it down on the ground before storming off.

  Carol sighed. “Goddamn it.”

  Sarah touched her arm. “She’ll get over it.”

  They glanced over at Fiona, guilt in their eyes, and Fiona tried to keep her expression neutral. They knew she was Jill’s best friend, but she didn’t like Jill’s moods any more than they did. She shrugged.

  “Yeah—don’t worry about it, Carol. Thanks for saying something. It has nothing to do with the stuff, anyway. Jill doesn’t like being told what to do.”

  Carol nodded, one eyebrow up. “Ain’t that the truth. And Roz’s going to be calling the shots this whole time.”

  “I hope it won’t be a problem,” Sarah added, her tone subdued.

  Fiona knew better, and she was pretty sure her friends did, too. In fact, some of her earlier reluctance at having a guide stemm
ed from the fact that Jill hated not to be in charge. Still, if anyone could make Jill listen to her, it might be Roz. Judging from her recent and quick exit, Roz already seemed to have an instinct for avoiding conflict with her, and Jill’s crush might help a little, too.

  Jon walked over to them then, smiling and holding a stuff sack. “Let’s put all of that in here. I promise everything will be safe and sound when we see you again on the other side.”

  Fiona leaned down to help him, the two of them making quick progress. Their contact with the twenty-first century was cut off, and a quick, warm current of something like relief swept through her. It was comforting to be off the grid. She and Jon stood up together, and he smiled at her.

  “And don’t worry—you really don’t need any of this stuff. Roz knows what she’s doing. She’s the best in the business and knows these woods better than anyone.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  He smiled again. “Good. Oh, and hey. You should take advantage of this rest stop. She won’t be this easy on you guys after today.”

  He wandered off to join the other young men, all of whom were sitting on some rocks by the side of the river, eating their lunch. Including Jon, there were four of them altogether, all in their early twenties, all a similar outdoorsy type, lean and tan with scruffy hair and beards. She imagined this was a nice summer job for them between semesters at school, perhaps, or part of some kind of job training for something similar later on. Except for Jon, they hadn’t introduced themselves, but she didn’t think that was a slight on their part—just the usual divide between clients and providers. Two of them had pulled their green bandanas around their necks, and Fiona decided they wore them for visibility. It was easy to spot them from anywhere. The green was almost fluorescent, unnatural and obvious in this setting.

  The river itself was calm here, a kind of low burble over stones that opened into a large pool about twenty feet away from where she was standing. She walked over there, stretching her butt muscles as much as she could and occasionally bending down to touch her toes. While they’d made a lot of progress riding the horses this far, she would be glad to be back on her own two feet tomorrow. She wasn’t sure her butt or thighs could take more than a day of riding.

  Roz was standing by the pool, staring at the water, her hands on her waist and elbows akimbo. The trees covered the sky entirely here, but it was still hot even here in the shade. The pool looked shallow, maybe two or three feet deep in the center, and the surface was buzzing with the activity of different insects—gnats, dragonflies, and water spiders dancing across the surface. A few puffs of cotton from the trees drifted through the air, lending the beautiful space a magical, ethereal feeling. Roz turned at her approach and smiled at her.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

  Fiona couldn’t reply with words, but she nodded, training her eyes on the water.

  “Nothing back here has been named, not on any map anyway, but I always think of this as Serenity Pond.”

  “It fits,” Fiona managed to say.

  They were quiet for a long, awkward pause, for Fiona at least, and she fought to think of something to say.

  “Have you been doing this long? Guiding people, I mean?”

  Roz shrugged. “Depends on what you mean. I’ve led groups in this forest for only the last three years, but I’ve been doing similar work for about ten.”

  She didn’t say anything more, and Fiona couldn’t think of a way to ask for more details without seeming nosy. Instead, she let the peaceful quiet of the place wash over her, closing her eyes to listen to sound of the woods. The birds were squawking to each other, and somewhere nearby she could hear the chiding whir of a squirrel. Beyond this, nothing—no cars, no planes, nothing but the light laughter and talk of the others behind them to suggest that anyone on earth existed besides the two of them here by the pond. When she opened her eyes, Roz was watching her, a slight grin pulling at the corner of her mouth, and Fiona flushed with heat.

  “What?”

  “You get it, don’t you?” Roz asked, so quiet she was almost whispering.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This place. You get it. I can tell. Not everyone does, but you do, already.”

  Fiona was about to reply, but Jill was walking toward them, almost bouncing as she approached.

  “Wow. Look at that!” she said, her voice echoing across the pond. “Man, that’s pretty. And inviting! Do you think I have time to wade in for a minute?” She didn’t wait for a reply, leaning down to untie her boots. “Come on, Fiona. Take off your boots.” She turned her head around and shouted, “Carol! Sarah! Get over here! We’re getting in the water!”

  Fiona tried to throw Roz an apologetic look, but Roz had already wandered away, joining the men she worked with. Fiona hesitated and then knelt to unlace her boots, slipping them off with her wool socks. She and Jill clutched their forearms together and waded into the water, the cold so biting Fiona almost leapt out. This was snow run-off, and even pooled here, its chill was so bitter it made her feet ache. She tried to turn back to the shore.

  “Oh, stop being a baby,” Jill said, laughing and yanking her farther into the pond. “You’ll wish you could have your feet in here after a few days of walking on them.”

  Fiona’s feet were starting to go numb now, and she gritted her teeth to keep from complaining. Sarah and Carol were smart enough to stay on the shore, waving at them and pretending not to hear Jill’s repeated invitations. Fiona finally managed to coax Jill out when Jill almost tripped on her own numb feet. They had just enough time to get their boots on and cram a quick meal before Roz told everyone to get ready to go.

  Jill rolled her eyes. “Taskmistress.”

  She said this loud enough that Roz might have heard her, and Fiona flushed with embarrassment. Luckily Roz didn’t seem to notice or chose to ignore her. Sarah and Carol shared that same silent, worried glance, and Fiona wondered then how long it would be before Jill decided to confront Roz. Judging from this morning, it would be soon.

  As they all mounted up and got back on the trail, her worries about Jill and Roz deepened. She and Jill had been friends for over twenty years, but it had never been an easy friendship. When they’d met as teens, Jill had immediately taken charge. At the time, this had seemed natural. As a teenager, Fiona had been so anxious and depressed, she’d almost felt like she deserved to be bossed around. They’d supported each other as they came out, first to one another, having, perhaps, sensed it about each other from the beginning. Neither had ever had even the remotest kind of romantic feelings about the other, and Jill had been the only one to actually date while they were still in high school—an equally large number of boys and girls. By the time Fiona started having more confidence in herself, the habit of stepping aside when a pretty girl showed interest and going along with whatever Jill wanted was so deeply ingrained that she hardly dared to try to change things.

  College had helped a little. They’d gone to different schools, and Fiona had made different friends, ones that let her make choices, pushed her to open up more and become her own person. Carol was one of them, and, unrequited crush or not, she’d had an enormous influence on Fiona’s growth. She’d met Sarah later, too, and the three of them had become close, eventually sharing an apartment their senior year. Jill had visited once in a while, but she had always remained Fiona’s friend first, theirs second. It was rare that the three of them hung out without Fiona. In fact, Fiona half-suspected they wouldn’t see Jill at all if it weren’t for her, but she never asked them about it.

  After college, she and Jill had moved back to their hometown, and while things had certainly changed a little between them, their friendship still had an unequal power division. While Fiona was more aware and more ashamed of this dynamic post-college, she still did very little to challenge it beyond spending a little more time away from her. Limiting exposure to Jill was the only option to avoid being led around like a dog. Still, she usually saw her a couple of times a
month, and they took a long, annual trip together. And in the end, despite all the generalized bossiness, she loved Jill like a sister—a bossy older sister, but a sister nonetheless. Jill could be incredibly supportive, and she always had her back. Her insistence on doing crazy, sometimes dangerous things could occasionally turn into a thrilling adventure. But Jill could also be tiring, like today, and like last March when she had pummeled her into this trip.

  Still, Fiona reflected, things could be worse. These woods were incredible, like nothing she’d ever seen. They were thick, dark, far denser than most of the woods in Colorado. The pines were healthy, full, the aspens and narrow-leaf cottonwoods in full dress. She’d taken a few trips to the East Coast to backpack and hike, and this forest almost reminded her of those woods. The trail they were following was clearly delineated, but beyond the narrow path lay nothing but a snarl of growth and decay. The sun was blocked for most of the trail—a relief in this heat—but occasionally she yearned for it to break the shadows around her. Even in this long line of horses and people, they seemed already isolated, alone.

  Her horse, as if sensing her apprehension, nickered a little and lifted its head back. She leaned forward and patted its neck, glad for its warm strength. She didn’t know a thing about horses, but she liked this one. All it asked was for her to stay on its back, which she could do. Maybe when they were back in town, she could see about having more riding lessons.

  After the deep woods, the trail narrowed considerably for about a mile, winding through a series of enormous boulders. Here the sun beat down on them in glaring power, the white light harsh and reflecting off the quartz in the stone. Her sunglasses did little to block the light, and she pulled the brim of her hat a bit lower, cursing her earlier anxiety about the shadowed trail. At least then she hadn’t been baking.

  They suddenly stopped, the giant rocks still hemming them in on all sides. Roz and her horse at the front were blocked from her view behind a boulder ahead, and Fiona craned to the side, trying to see or hear what was happening. Sarah, directly in front of her, made a quieting motion with both hands, and Fiona repeated it to Jon behind her.