by Doug Draper
While waiting, he reached into his backpack and pulled out the last of his ready-to-eat food—three hot dog buns and plastic sandwich bags with smashed potato chips and broken cookies. Even though the food didn’t look appetizing, Ben devoured all of it and savored a few sips of water.
He thought about taking a nap in his hiding place but recognized it could be his last nap. With the temperature well below freezing, dozing off could be fatal. He fought to stay awake and to stop shivering. Suddenly, the new storm arrived, with a powerful wind driving more snowflakes into the mountainside.
Despite Luke’s compliment about Ben’s choice of trails, he wasn’t feeling very clever as gusts of icy wind penetrated his shelter. Ben crawled out of the hole and started climbing up the rock pile, wondering what kind of mess he had gotten himself into. He had outlasted Derek and Luke, but his friends—the mountains—had betrayed him. A greater battle now followed—survival.
CHAPTER 40
Heavy, wind-driven snowflakes pelted Ben while he stood at the top of the rock pile and searched the mountain’s western slope for a way to reach the valley. Within seconds, the storm forced him to turn around to protect his face and eyes from snowflakes coming at him like tiny darts shot from a massive blowgun. Going west into the storm at its current intensity would bring sheer misery.
To keep the wind at his back, Ben marched up the mountainside, continuing across the summit to seek protection on the eastern slope. He soon discovered a cliff about one hundred yards below the peak that jutted out from the mountainside. After climbing to the cliff’s base, he crouched and relied on the rock formation above him to provide some shelter. Even with less wind and snow hitting him, Ben remained ice-cold, so he untied his sleeping bag from his backpack and crawled into it—with his boots, gloves, coat and hat still in place.
From under the cliff, Ben watched the snow whip across the peak and begin to accumulate in drifts against boulders or the few groves of trees near the peak. While trying to warm up, he thought about his desire to reach Nephi and eventually Zion National Park. It seemed like a perfect plan when he left the scout campsite. Now, he wondered if he should scrap it.
If he gave up and rejoined his troop, he faced profound consequences for taking out his anger against the Bears and for running away. If he kept going, he lacked the essential tools and supplies to live off the land. His possessions only included what he carried in his backpack and eight dollars in his wallet.
Ben remembered learning the word “despair” in school and thought it best represented the feeling of crushing darkness and desperation that descended on him as he evaluated his flawed plan to run away. No matter how Ben looked at his options, none appeared attractive. He couldn’t go home. He couldn’t live in the mountains. He couldn’t think of any way to solve his problems. He felt trapped.
While Ben struggled with these thoughts, he remembered the many times, since Grandpa Baker’s funeral, when he had wondered why his grandfather committed suicide. Ben imagined that he had reached a point where his life had become so dismal that any moments of joy failed to brighten the dark days. His problems, whether big or small, must have made death stand out as the best solution.
At times Ben considered making the same choice, but he always rejected suicide as dishonorable. The deepness of the despair Ben experienced while fighting to stay warm on the mountain helped him understand how his grandfather might have looked at his broken life and decided to end it. And Ben remembered the gun in his backpack. A single shot to the head seemed like a better way to go than freezing to death. While the result would be the same, taking charge of the matter promised to be much quicker and less painful than letting nature do the job.
After pulling the scoutmaster’s pistol from his backpack, Ben changed his mind because he hated the idea that his ultimate action in life would be one that many people would consider cowardly—a legacy that he despised. Ben put the gun away and returned to thinking about which direction to head when the snowstorm ended.
Before long, the wind shifted and exposed his small sanctuary to the full force of the storm. Blasts of needlelike snowflakes battered him from the right side. He rolled up his sleeping bag and scrambled back to the top of the cliff in search of a new shelter. Instead of refuge, he discovered the wind to be swirling. No place this high on the mountain would spare him from being battered by the storm.
Ben wrapped his arms around his chest in a futile attempt to stay warm. He couldn’t recall ever being so cold. As he shivered, thoughts of using the gun to end his misery returned. He still didn’t want to shoot himself, but a new idea popped into his head. Jump off the cliff and nobody will know that you killed yourself. People will think you slipped and fell to your death.
He walked to the edge of the cliff and peered over it, looking for a place where a fall would certainly kill him. He found the ideal point and walked to it. The cliff dropped away to a cluster of large rocks about thirty feet below. If he dove into the rocks with his arms at his side, he envisioned his head splitting open. A quick death seemed certain. If not, he would be knocked unconscious and probably die from blood loss before waking up.
With the storm continuing to pound the mountaintop, “falling off the cliff” seemed like the perfect plan. All Ben needed to do was run toward the cliff, dive over it, and close his eyes. Committed to this plan, he dropped his backpack and examined the side of the cliff to make sure he could fall straight down and wouldn’t bounce off rocks on the way. The setting appeared to be perfect for a death plunge. He took five steps back to create a running start and then charged ahead.
As soon as Ben ran toward the cliff, a force as tangible and strong as the relentless snowstorm stopped him and he staggered backward. Despite being unseen, it had the same effect on Ben as if someone had grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the cliff. At the same time, a clear thought entered his head. No!
Ben didn’t hear a distinct voice or even a whisper, but his mind registered the command to stop. While staring at the edge of the cliff, he sensed a loud, rushing sound in his head that surpassed the noise of the wind whipping the mountaintop. At that moment, he received another clear message that dominated his thoughts. Things will get better.
Stunned by the physical sensations that accompanied the message, Ben stood still and wondered what had happened. Nothing he had ever been through in his life matched this experience. The unseen hands and unspoken words seemed as real as if they came from someone standing next to him. And yet he remained alone.
Things will get better.
For unknown reasons, Ben believed what he heard and let it guide him. He walked away from the edge of the cliff and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER 41
Ben retrieved his backpack and kept walking away from the cliff. He headed downhill, aiming for the distant road seen when climbing to the peak. Despite the deepening snow, the hike to the road passed quickly as he thought about the strange experience at the edge of the cliff. He struggled to comprehend what restrained him.
Even though he had attended church almost every week for as long as he could remember, Ben didn’t really believe in God. To fit in with everyone else at church, he talked about God as if he were real. At the same time, he wondered if having faith in God was any different from believing in Santa Claus. The intent of adults when sharing stories about both seemed to be a trick to get children to behave.
Even though he doubted God’s existence, Ben heartily agreed that people shouldn’t lie, steal, or commit murder. Living a moral lifestyle appealed to him. At the same time, he listened with skepticism when people talked about God performing miracles in their lives or telling them what to do. Neither had happened to Ben.
Perhaps this day marked the first time God had spoken to him or the first time he had listened. As Ben thought about this possibility, he remembered his scoutmaster saying that he would pray for him. Ben didn’t think much about the promise because he had heard this statement delivered by many people a
nd it seemed to be nothing more than an expression like “Have a nice day.” He pondered the idea that God might have been looking out for him because of the scoutmaster’s prayer. It seemed farfetched, but the thought kept returning to his mind.
When Ben reached the road, he faced a decision. Turn right and head toward Nephi or turn left and go back to the scout campsite. He paused for a few seconds to see if the force encountered on top of the mountain would make the call, but nothing happened.
If Ben turned left and made it back to the campsite, he would be disciplined by his parents and the scoutmaster for his poor behavior. On the other hand, turning right stood out as a bleaker option. He might not survive if he didn’t get a ride. So he turned left, toward whatever punishment might come.
After walking on the road for about fifteen minutes, Ben heard a vehicle coming toward him. Still swept up in anxiety about being caught, his first impulse was to hide, but he quickly rejected it. He had already dumped his fantasy to live off the land.
The vehicle soon appeared—the familiar patrol car of Sheriff Kort. It came to a slow halt next to Ben. Taking a deep breath, Ben turned to face the sheriff and was shocked to see Derek and Luke sitting in the backseat.
Sheriff Kort rolled down his window and casually leaned out, smiling and almost laughing. He asked, “Ben, how have you been?”
“Fine, thanks,” Ben said, wondering when the sheriff’s reprimand would begin and why he had Derek and Luke in his car.
“A lot of folks are mighty worked up about what you’ve been doing today. So they called me in a panic to help find you. I agreed to poke around to see if I could. And here you are taking a stroll in the snow.”
“Yep. I thought it would be fun to go hiking instead of hanging out at the campsite.”
“Oh, and I guess you didn’t think about telling anybody that you were going off for a little sightseeing.”
“Well, I started early and didn’t want to wake anyone up.”
“Things don’t change with you, do they? You’re still telling tall tales.”
Not knowing what to say, Ben glanced at the sheriff’s passengers and worried that Derek might have already complained about his friends’ motorcycles being vandalized.
“I’d be glad to give you a ride home if you’re done hiking for the day. Are you interested?”
Ben looked around as if trying to decide whether to accept the sheriff’s offer or keep hiking.
“Uh, I was only joking,” the sheriff said, chuckling at Ben’s reaction to his question. “Get in the car and let’s go. You’re done.”
“OK, a ride back to the campsite would be good.”
“We’ll stop there, but then I’m taking you home. Your parents have heard that you ran off and are worried about you.”
Ben pointed at the backseat of the sheriff’s car and asked, “Do you want me to ride back there with them?”
“No, no, no,” Sheriff Kort said, chuckling again. “Sit up front with me.”
After Ben hurried around the car and climbed in, the sheriff used his radio to alert his colleagues that “the missing scout has been found—alive and well.” He made a U-turn and then used his thumb to point at the backseat.
“When hiking, did you happen to notice these two following you?”
Before responding, Ben glanced over his shoulder at Derek who held his right hand under his chin with the 666-tattoo visible. Ben understood the message—keep your mouth shut or else. He wondered if Derek had his gun or if the sheriff had taken it. Ben still had the scoutmaster’s gun in his backpack.
After a long pause, Ben said, “No, I thought I had the trail to myself.”
“That’s interesting because we found a trail with your footprints and theirs going in the same direction.”
Ben didn’t reply and neither did Derek, but Luke jumped in, saying, “Like we’ve said before, we were only looking around for signs of deer, so we’d know if this is a good place to hunt. And, by coincidence, we happened to be going in the same direction as the boy.”
Ben didn’t look at Derek for confirmation, but he imagined him sending signals to his partner to keep his mouth shut. And Derek didn’t volunteer any information.
“Son, is there anything you should tell me that would explain why the three of you went hiking on the same trail and in miserable weather?”
Having learned from his previous chats with the sheriff that he should limit his remarks to the truth, Ben decided to ignore the question. He didn’t want to make up a story or admit that he had crippled two motorcycles.
Reacting to Ben’s silence, the sheriff said, “While looking for you, I found Derek and his pal hitchhiking. I asked them if they had seen you and all I got in return was a dumb look.”
Sheriff Kort paused to see if Ben would start blabbing, but he kept his mouth closed and so did the backseat passengers. The sheriff kept pressing for an answer and said, “I get the impression that all three of you are lying. Ben, do I need to remind you what happened the last time?”
“No, sir,” Ben said, already feeling guilty about keeping secrets from the sheriff again.
“Your scoutmaster told me that you ran into Derek a couple of times yesterday and he thought a threat had been made. Did that happen?”
“Not really. Even if he did, I’m not worried about Derek. He could never keep up with me in the mountains and he can’t shoot worth a darn.”
With that insult, Ben glanced back at Derek to let him know that he didn’t care about his 666-tattoo or any other intimidation trick he might use. Ben made a silent pledge to never fear Derek again. His confidence came from a simple belief—things will get better.
CHAPTER 42
Things didn’t get better right away. In fact, Ben had a few rough months dealing with the consequences of his actions. Gene Augustine gave him an indefinite suspension from scouts for damaging the tents, stealing the pistol, and running away from the campout. Sheriff Kort kept prodding and pushing for an explanation of what happened with Derek and Luke, but Ben continued to reply “Nothing.” And most of Ben’s fellow high school students viewed him as even weirder than they already thought. He heard many whispers directed at him about being “the idiot who wandered off in the mountains and had to be rescued by the sheriff.”
During math class, the teasing piled up to a level where Ben lost control of his emotions. After receiving a steady stream of insults from an especially obnoxious classmate, he yanked the boy from his chair and slammed his head into the wall.
“Are you picking on me because you didn’t think I’d fight back?” Ben asked while punching the dazed victim. “Today, you guessed wrong.”
“Ben, stop it! Did you hear me? Stop it, right now!” Ben’s teacher shouted as he broke up the beating. “What are you doing? This isn’t who you are.”
While standing next to the teacher, Ben looked across the classroom and caught the eyes of Julie Winters whose disappointed look confirmed that, once again, he had gone too far in releasing his anger. He hated himself for showing no self-control.
The brief fight led to a conference with Ben’s teacher, principal, and mother. The principal didn’t suspend Ben. He merely warned him not to do it again and offered advice about how to handle similar situations in the future.
“Just relax. You need to learn not to take teasing so seriously,” the principal said. “Remember, these knuckleheads are only trying to get a laugh.”
Eventually, things for Ben improved. Derek left the area, with nobody knowing where he went, so the sheriff quit pestering Ben about him. The high school’s “comedians” found new things to joke about and ignored Ben. Then came the miracle of Ben’s junior year—he grew eight inches. And he added two more inches as a senior.
Instead of being shorter than all the boys and most of the girls in high school, he suddenly stood as tall as the average-sized boys and even taller than his big brother. Ben’s growth spurt required him to buy longer pants about every three months, but it dramatically
improved his life. The bullies moved on to smaller targets.
As planned, Joe left for Utah State University after graduating from high school and rarely came home during his freshman year. While Ben enjoyed having his own room, he realized what a challenging role Joe had played in trying to keep their home peaceful.
Even though Becky was only ten years old, she showed more courage or less common sense than her siblings and rebelled against her father’s tyranny. And she paid a hefty price. Al unleashed his full fury on Becky through slaps, punches, and kicks. He held nothing back in trying to break her will. And yet, despite his extreme violence and vile name-calling, he never stifled Becky’s desire to fight back.
In the past, Joe found ways to distract his father and calm him down. When that burden shifted to Ben, he felt helpless, not having Joe’s skills or courage. During his senior year in high school, Ben stayed away from the house by going to the library and putting in as many hours as possible at his part-time job. He worked hard to avoid the challenge of trying to protect Becky and Debbie from their father.
At times, Ben still stumbled into Becky’s battles. The most disturbing came when Ben arrived home to find his father chasing Becky’s dog, Duchess, through the yard. To punish Duchess for killing two chickens, Al was trying to whip the dog with a tree branch. Terrified, Duchess ran at a frantic pace and sped down the road leading into Alma. Looking insane, Al continued to chase Duchess even though the neighbors could see his cruelty.
When Becky shouted at Al to leave her dog alone, he complied, sprinting back into the yard toward her. She fled into the house with Al close behind. Ben followed to see if he could get his out-of-control father to calm down. After Al cornered Becky in the kitchen, Ben stepped into the room’s doorway, but he froze and didn’t dare approach his father. The episode reminded him of his parents’ fight in the kitchen years earlier.
