The Sacrifice

by Robert Whitlow

  Scott opened the door and looked down at Nicky. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  Ride was a word Nicky understood, and he shot out of the house and jumped in the front seat of the vehicle. Panting with excitement, the little dog pressed his wet nose against the glass of the passenger window.

  It was a cool morning, and Scott was wearing a lightweight jacket over a T-shirt decorated with a picture of a man fishing in a stream and the words A Perfect Day. Anticipating an increase in temperature once they started hiking, he had put on khaki shorts with multiple pockets for odds and ends. He mentally went down his list of items for the trip during the short drive to Kay’s apartment. He didn’t let Nicky get out at the apartment complex, and the little dog barked at Scott’s back as his master walked up the steps to Kay’s apartment.

  Kay opened the door. She was wearing shorts the same color as Scott’s and had slipped on a warm jacket against the chill of the morning. In her right hand she held a yellow pillowcase stuffed with unknown items having odd shapes and corners.

  “What’s in there?” Scott asked.

  “The things I need that weren’t on your list. I thought I could empty it at the campsite and stuff it with clothes for a pillow.”

  “Good idea,” Scott said. “How heavy is it?”

  She passed it to him, and he weighed it in his hand.

  “Not too bad. Do you want me to carry it in my backpack?”

  Kay shook her head. “No, I’ll carry my fair share.”

  “Okay, we’ll distribute everything once we reach the beginning of the trail.”

  Nicky’s whole body shook with excitement when Scott returned. Kay sat down in the passenger seat, and the dog quickly licked her chin before Scott ordered him to the backseat. Nicky stayed put until they turned onto the main highway, then slowly worked his way into Kay’s lap. Scott saw him out of the corner of his eye.

  “If he bothers you, let me know.”

  Kay gently stroked the fur behind Nicky’s neck.

  “He’s fine.”

  They picked up speed and left the Catawba city limits heading west. The fog wrapped around the trees alongside the road like a white skirt.

  Kay ran her finger down Nicky’s back.

  “You sure are white,” she said.

  Scott glanced down at his own stocky legs then looked at Kay. Her long legs were shapely, but they hadn’t seen the sunlight for over two months and were a couple of shades paler than his own.

  “I don’t get out in the sun except in the summertime,” he said. “You’re pretty white yourself. The lights in your classroom don’t double as a tanning bed.”

  Kay laughed. “I was talking about Nicky, not you.”

  “Oh. Nicky’s legs are not only white, they’re extremely hairy.”

  “Furry.”

  The fog lingered for another thirty minutes. They stopped and bought two coffees at a country store. Kay didn’t want anything to eat, but Scott ordered a pair of sausage biscuits. He quickly ate both of them except for a morsel he passed to Nicky.

  They stayed on two-lane roads that began to climb upward as they neared the mountains. Along the way, they passed modest farmhouses, fields plowed under for the coming winter, a few scattered cattle, and thickening forests. Nicky fell asleep in Kay’s lap as the sound of the wheels on the road droned on and on, and Scott felt the stress and tension drain out of his body as the miles slipped behind them. He loved the mountains. They had always been therapeutic for him, but he’d always gone alone or with male friends. He wondered how the inclusion of Kay would affect the solitude he enjoyed there.

  The road began to twist and turn as it ascended higher. They had to slow down as the asphalt switched back and forth. A rain shower had fallen the previous night, and there were still tiny pools of water on the leaves that stretched over the roadway. The slightest breeze caused these pockets of moisture to fall, and several hit the windshield with a plop. Scott turned on the windshield wipers for a few seconds.

  “Is it going to rain?” Kay asked.

  “That was last night,” Scott said confidently. “It will be clear for the next twenty-four hours. Cool in the morning but warming up during the day.”

  It was 10:30 A.M. when they reached a country crossroads and a small store that advertised live bait and fishing tackle. Scott stopped at the intersection.

  “Would you like to fish when we reach the stream? I brought an extra rod and reel, but you’ll need a license.”

  “No, I’d rather relax. Fishing sounds like work.”

  A few miles beyond the store, Scott turned onto a gravel road that was the last leg of their journey to the trailhead. Nicky raised his head at the change in sound, then dropped it back to Kay’s leg when he realized that it didn’t mean they were going to stop. Scott flipped the switch that engaged the four-wheel-drive feature of the vehicle. After bounding along for another twenty minutes, he suddenly pulled into a tiny parking area. An old blue pickup and a new Mercedes were parked next to each other. He pulled in beside the truck.

  “This is it,” he said. “The trail begins on the other side of the big oak tree.”

  “How do people find places like this?” Kay asked.

  Scott pointed to the pickup truck. “I’d guess the man driving the truck has been coming here since he was a little boy.” Turning toward the Mercedes, he added, “The fellow with the fancy car probably found out about it on the Internet.”

  Scott let Nicky run around while he organized their backpacks. He’d left plenty of room in Kay’s pack and positioned the pillowcase in a protected place. He could easily pick up her load with one hand, but he knew it would get heavier in a hurry. His own backpack contained all the cooking gear, the tents, and several pieces of equipment that didn’t weigh much individually but added considerable weight when put together.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Kay had been exploring the edge of the clearing with Nicky. She grabbed Scott’s backpack and started to pick it up. It didn’t budge.

  “I’ll pass on this one,” she said. “It’s full of bricks.”

  “Only the necessary items to guarantee a pleasant stay in the wilderness.”

  Scott lifted the other pack and held it until Kay slipped her arms through the straps.

  “How does this feel?” he asked.

  She took a few steps. “Fine. It may be a little off balance to the right.”

  Scott made a few adjustments. Kay took a few more steps.

  “That’s better.”

  Scott put on a black Appalachian State University cap with a mountaineer’s silhouette in the shape of Grandfather Mountain across the front. He took a camera from a pocket on the side of his pack and set it down on a tree stump.

  “What are you doing?” Kay asked.

  “Tradition. I always take a picture before starting out and when I get back to the parking area. I’ll get into my pack and set the timer on the camera. Hold Nicky so he’ll be in the picture.”

  Scott’s pack was so heavy that he had to lumber over to the camera, push the button, and walk slowly back to Kay. Nicky was squirming at the confinement in Kay’s arms, but she held on to him until the red signal light flashed and the camera clicked.

  “Okay,” Scott said. “We’re off. Get ready for some aerobic exercise.”

  The trail was three feet wide. Scott had picked it because it offered scenic leaf viewing, a mountaintop vista, and the excellent camping spots beside a clear, rocky stream. The temperature was comfortable when they were standing in the parking lot, and the air was cooler under the trees that covered the trail. However, the weight of the backpacks quickly caused them to get warm once they started walking. After less than half a mile, Kay stopped and took off her jacket.

  The path wound gently uphill for the first mile. Because he constantly zigzagged back and forth to investigate the fringes of the trail, Nicky walked twice as far as Scott and Kay. When he began to tire, he stayed closer to Scott’s side. The gentle grade was foll
owed by a steeper section that culminated in a sharp ascent with multiple switchbacks that left everyone panting at the top of a ridge line.

  “Water break,” Scott said, huffing.

  They slipped off their backpacks. Scott had brought a tiny dish, and setting it on a level spot, he filled it with water for a grateful Nicky. The little dog stuck his whole nose in it.

  Kay wiped her forehead with a blue bandanna. She pressed her fingers to the side of her neck.

  “Is something wrong?” Scott asked.

  “Checking my pulse. When you said this would be aerobic, you weren’t kidding. I think that last climb elevated my heart rate into the red zone. Are you okay? Your pack weighs a ton.”

  “The first fifteen minutes are the worst. Then I get used to the weight and enjoy the exertion. There is one more steep place, then the rest of the trail is downhill to the stream.”

  They both took several long drinks of water.

  “Are you ready for something beautiful?” Scott asked.

  “Yes, let’s get going.” Kay started to pick up her pack.

  “Not yet. We’ll leave our stuff here and take a short detour. Bring your water bottle.”

  “Will everything else be okay?”

  “I’m taking the camera. Most thieves aren’t willing to hike this far into the woods to carry anything out.”

  Refreshed by the water, they walked a few feet down a side trail that turned sharply right on a narrow path. They followed this new trail for a couple hundred yards, until it curved around a massive tree. Beyond the tree was a narrow promontory that ended in an overlook and several large boulders whose tops were exposed to the sunlight. As far as they could see, the hills stretched out at their feet. Higher mountains could be seen in the hazy distance. Everywhere, reds, yellows, oranges, browns, and a few stubborn greens were displayed on nature’s canvas.

  Kay stopped. “You’re right. It’s beautiful.”

  In the open air of the overlook, the breeze that perennially brushed the mountaintops quickly cooled their cheeks. Nicky lay down on a rock. Scott sat beside him. Kay moved away and found her own rock. She gazed in silence at the colors, then leaned back and looked at the sky. The clouds were fluffy and didn’t harbor the threat of rain.

  They stayed for forty-five minutes. Scott had seen people come to the overlook, spit into the valley below, and go on their way. He liked to climb mountains, but he enjoyed the view at the top even more. It was a moment to savor. Today, for the first time in his life he realized it was better when shared with someone else. Nicky fell asleep, and Scott moved gingerly across the boulders to Kay.

  “May I share your rock?” he asked.

  Kay scooted to the side, and they gazed at the same view for several moments.

  “You’re doing okay, aren’t you?” he asked.

  Kay nodded. “Better than okay.”

  Scott resisted the urge to cross-examine her. He’d thought that one purpose for the trip would be to keep her from getting depressed over the events of the past week, but during the drive to the mountains, he realized that, for whatever reason, Kay was living in a place of peace where depression didn’t seem to have a key.

  “It has to do with Jesus,” she said, “but I don’t want to lose what’s happening by talking about it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Kay sat for a moment, then patted the boulder on which they sat.

  “No, it’s like this rock. If I can’t talk about it, it’s not real. Ever since the divorce hearing on Monday, I’ve been spending time alone at my apartment, thinking, reading, listening, writing.”

  “Singing?”

  “Not this time. But every night the reality of God’s love for me and my love for him has been so real. At times I’m overwhelmed. Instead of feeling abandoned and rejected, I’ve felt accepted and secure. Somehow the empty place in me that Jake could never fill has been satisfied.”

  “I’m glad you’re not hurting. You’ve been through a lot you didn’t deserve.”

  “I’m not sure what I deserve, but I’m grateful for what I’ve been given. It has changed my life.”

  A stronger breeze blew over them, then subsided. Kay turned her face toward his.

  “Scott, what are you afraid of?”

  Scott looked down into the valley. “Falling off this rock.”

  “No, I’m serious. I think everyone is afraid of something. As long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid of being alone. That’s why it’s been so important for the emptiness inside me to be filled. Otherwise, the thought of being by myself would be more than I could stand.”

  Scott raised his eyes and looked across to the farthest range of blue hills at the edge of the horizon. He knew Kay would only be satisfied with the truth.

  “I like being alone, so we’re different in what we fear.”

  He glanced at the silhouette of her face. They were different in a lot of ways.

  “I haven’t thought a lot about it, but I guess I’m afraid of making a mistake. That’s why the situation with Steve Robinson bothered me so much. Of course, the same thing works in other parts of my life.”

  “Is that why you never married?”

  Scott scooted up on the rock and decided to be totally honest.

  “Yes. I’ve had several relationships, but they only went so far. I’ve been afraid of making a mistake and ending up—” He stopped.

  “Divorced like me?”

  Scott didn’t respond.

  “Go ahead. I know you weren’t talking about me. I want to know what you think.”

  Scott spoke slowly. “I know there is a risk in every relationship, especially in marriage. Someone told me that without risk there is no reward, but I haven’t met anyone who seemed worth the risk. Maybe I’m too picky; maybe I’m bound by fear of failure. It just hasn’t happened.”

  Kay let his words soak in.

  “Okay, I understand. I’ve had another fear that’s also gone—the fear of death. Jake made fun of me, but I had trouble watching movies where a lot of people died. Sometimes I thought a cold might be lung cancer. It wasn’t a constant thing, but every so often I’d struggle with irrational thoughts of death.”

  “When did it stop?”

  “Over the past few weeks, I’ve changed my thinking about death. It’s not something to seek, but it’s not something to fear. My future is in God’s hands, and whether it’s short or long, I’ll be okay. I know it sounds crazy, but I can honestly say that I could die tomorrow without regret because I trust so totally in God’s love. Nothing else has ever been so real.”

  Scott immediately thought of Frank Jesup’s comments about ending life on his terms and started to challenge her but cut off the words before they escaped his lips. Kay wasn’t thinking about self-control over death but confidence in something or someone who controlled her destiny.

  “Okay, I can accept that, but don’t die now. You haven’t seen the stream, and I don’t want to carry your backpack.”

  Kay smiled. Scott held out his hand and helped her stand up.

  “There’s more to see down the trail. Let’s get going before we stiffen up.”

  No one had disturbed their backpacks, and they were soon on their way along the ridge line. Ridge running was pleasant because of the vistas that occasionally opened up when the trees thinned out on the sides of the trail. Eventually the path veered off the ridge and they began to climb down into a valley.

  “Going down is easier than climbing up,” Kay said. “Will we have to climb this hill when we hike out tomorrow?”

  Scott was walking ahead of her down the trail and looked over his shoulder.

  “There is only one way in and one way out, but tomorrow we won’t have any food to carry with us.”

  “Am I hauling the food?”

  “Part of it.”

  “I promise to clean my plate. How much farther to our campsite?”

  “We’ll come alongside the stream in a few minutes. The trail follows the stream to the sp
ot I’m thinking about. It’s about another hour or so.”

  The air was stuffier as they left the higher elevations, but it became cooler when they made their first contact with the stream. The water flowed rapidly across rocks worn smooth by the constant friction. Nicky ran forward and began lapping the cool water that was inches deep at the bank and no more than three or four feet deep in the middle.

  “Nicky’s braver than me,” Scott said. “We’ll drink bottled water until I can purify some later.”

  “Is it this shallow everywhere?”

  “Mostly. It’s deeper than it looks because the water is clear, but I doubt there’s a place for miles where it’s over my head.”

  The trail hugged the creek bank for another hour of walking. They passed several clearings that looked like good campsites to Kay, but Scott kept on going.

  “I was here several times when I was in college. The place ahead is worth the extra walking.”

  Finally, they came to a larger clearing where the stream took a leisurely turn. In the bend was the deepest pool they’d encountered. Upstream from the deep pool were some crisp rapids, followed by a smaller pool and a ten-foot waterfall.

  Kay stopped and surveyed the scene. “This has got to be it.”

  Scott smiled. “Welcome to Branham’s field.”

  37

  To your tents, O Israel!

  1 KINGS 12:16

  Kay slipped off her backpack and let it drop to the ground with a thud.

  “I hope there wasn’t anything in there that would break.”

  “Only my grandmother’s china for our supper tonight. Drink some water and relax while I set up our campsite.” Scott sat down against a tree and eased out of his backpack so that it remained upright.

  “You don’t need my help?”

  “Nope. You’ve done all the aerobic activity scheduled for the morning and afternoon sessions.”

  Scott opened the tops of the backpacks, and in less than fifteen minutes he had pitched both tents so that they faced the stream. Kay sat on a big log, drinking some water and watching.

  “Which one do you want?” he asked when he finished.

  “The igloo,” she answered. “Or whatever you call it.”