Sam's Theory

by Sarah Mendivel

  A chilly breeze blew past me, interrupting my moment of serenity with a silent alarm. My instincts flared into motion, enticing me to walk the extra few feet toward Mikayla’s tent. The tail of the same breeze flapped open her tent door, exposing an empty inside. Squinting my eyes suspiciously, I scanned the horizon of our camp, wondering where she had wandered off to. It was unusual for her to be awake past the rest of the group.

  I headed toward the water, speculating the unlikely possibility of her having gone for a walk. As I rounded the curve of the beach our old canoe slept in, I fixed my eyes on the distance and saw a shadow of a young person sitting near the base of the leaning spruce tree.

  The slump of her shoulders and the curve of her back faced me. I assumed the wet sand and soundtrack of waves muffled my approach, because Mikayla never turned around. What was she doing? Was she okay?

  I walked up casually, not intending to surprise her. “Mikayla?”

  She spun around, jolted with surprise. “Sam?! Jeezus.”

  As her body relaxed into a sitting position again, I could see she was holding Dodger’s camping knife in her hand. Tears had peeled themselves down the side of her face and her entire energy felt off. I knew what this was. “Hey, what are you doing out here? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, just leave me alone,” she snarled.

  Nervous to stay, but even more afraid to leave, I tried again. “Friend, is that Dodger’s knife?” She didn’t answer, but instead dropped her face into her hand crying. I leaned down next to her cautiously. “What are you doing out here, Mikayla? You don’t have to do this, you know. It isn’t the way.”

  “What the hell do you know about it, Sam? What the hell do you know about any of it?” she said, her voice quivering with sadness and anger.

  “I do know something about it, actually. Listen, what if you just gave me the knife and we could talk about it before you did anything,” I said, terrified of how she would react. I did my best to sound calm, the way Theory did when she knew I was breaking, but I wasn’t experienced enough to pretend I was okay with this. “Please, just relax for a second. Let’s go back to camp.”

  “What for?” she challenged angrily. “It’s not like anyone there likes me! I’m always pissing people off or doin’ sumthin’ stupid. I can’t keep it straight.”

  “None of us can,” I said right away, admitting my own insecurity in measuring up to the group. “And that isn’t true, the part about no one liking you. We all like you. We all, just, have different ways of expressing things sometimes.”

  “Whatever man, it doesn’t matter. There’s just no point to it anymore. Being here ain’t gonna to take away all the B.S. that’s happened to me. It’s not gonna fix nuthin’ and I have nuthin’ left,” she said, clearly defeated.

  “You have us,” I said, struggling to believe my own words. My brain raced to find the right phrase to save her, but everything I thought of sounded pathetic. Everything she was saying sounded like stuff I had said to Theory before. I tried to think of what Theory had said back to me.

  I had no idea how to pull her out of this space, because I knew exactly what this space felt like. It was a cavernous pit of sorrow and hopelessness, nearly untouchable by any kind of positive cheer or fake attempt at optimism.

  I thought of what my own dark space looked like, the destructive beliefs that plagued my soul when it found me. I thought of the corrupt and villainous people who raised me, measuring my worth by how they treated me. And then, I thought of Nova.

  Nova was the one pure thing that had always made sense. She was effervescent and loving, the way the whole world should strive to be. She was the single most important thing to me. That’s when the lightbulb went off. “Hey, know what you need?”

  “What?” Mikayla said, still clutching the knife with clumsy mourning.

  “You need one thing. Just one thing to stay alive for,” I said, suddenly feeling confident in my position.

  “Right, like what? And Rishawn doesn’t count, because I know I irritate the hell out of him. He’s better off without me,” she warned, already knowing my game.

  “Well, I don’t think that’s true. But I think you need something bigger than you, then.”

  “Bigger than me?” she sniffled.

  “Yeah, like, something to believe in,” I offered, hoping she wouldn’t shove me into the lake for being ridiculous.

  “Whatchu mean, like God?” Mikayla asked, annoyed, but trying to understand.

  “Well, yeah. That could be one way of doing it, sure.”

  “I’m not tryin’ to talk to God right now, Sam. I’m pretty sure I got ditched a while ago by that whole situation,” she taunted, motioning her hands toward the sky.

  Not knowing how I felt about God either at that point, I thought of something we could both touch and hold instead. I then remembered Theory’s advice about using my imagination during impossible situations. I stood up authoritatively. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just, somewhere close. Come on, please?” I held out my hand, praying to the very Universe we had just questioned, that she would take it. To both my relief and my surprise, Mikayla’s hand slide into the sanctuary of mine. I hoisted her to her feet, briskly taking the lead into the woods behind us.

  As we walked, I heard Mikayla snap the folding knife back into its case behind me. I sighed with relief, grateful that we had made it through the hardest part. The moon disappeared behind a smoke of clouds, making the trail harder to detect. Mikayla became acutely aware of our expedition suddenly. “Hey, how far is this thing? It’s really dark out here.”

  “I know, sorry. I swear I know the way though, so just stay close to me. Watch out for sticks and stuff.”

  “And predators?” Mikayla added, being sure I hadn’t forgotten that we were in the wild.

  I smiled, thankful to hear the old her again. “Yes, those too. Although, there aren’t any in this part of the mountain. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, imah be ready for some just in case they change their minds and need to see what’s going down over here,” she said, sounding stronger.

  “It’s about ten minutes down the grade. We’ll be there soon,” I replied.

  “Ten minutes in the dark? Did you keep me alive just to bring me out here in the middle of nowhere and kill me?”

  I stopped and turned around to see her smiling. I let out a laugh, shook my head, then continued forward. “Still got it, I see.”

  “Always,” I heard her boast from behind me.

  Minutes later, bundled up in our sweaters to avoid the briskness of the night, we stumbled into a clearing in the forest floor. Trees stood several yards apart from one another, opening up a ceiling of stars and clouds. The only thing we could make out were the black, shadowy tops of the pines.

  “Is this it?” called out Mikayla from behind me.

  I stood in place, eyeing the ground for any signs of life. “Yeah, but I think we need more light for it to happen.”

  “For what to happen?” she asked unnervingly.

  “Mm, we just have to wait for it. Trust me,” I said, sensing her mood switching again.

  We both stood still, eventually crossing our arms to keep warm. The chirp of nighttime creatures softly bounced off the trees surrounding us. I leaned my head back to take inventory of the sky, quietly trying to wish away the clouds.

  I thought of Theory in that moment, wondering if she knew where I was and what I was doing. I looked toward the horizon, hoping to see a gleam of light coming from the lens of the telescope. But there was nothing.

  I thought of Mikayla sitting alone near the spruce tree again. What if I hadn’t found her in time? What if she had actually gone through with it? Would she have been able to? Before my mind could scare itself anymore, I quickly decided it was best to let the whole thing go.

  Shaking the thoughts from my head, I looked up again to see the clouds floating away from the mo
on. I uncrossed my arms and pointed to the sky. “There they go! Now we’ll have enough light!”

  “Yeah, enough light for what, Sam?”

  But before I could answer, a glowing sprout of light emerged from the soil between us. It stopped for a moment, wiggled in space, then grew tall again. I kneeled down, motioning to Mikayla to do the same. She rested on all fours. “What is that, a mushroom?!”

  Happy to be sharing some of my secret world with someone, I smiled. “Yeah, it’s glow-in-the-dark fungi. It’s kind of rare, but I found it on one of my night walks.”

  She looked up at me suspiciously. “This is what you’ve been hiding from us the whole time?”

  I avoided eye contact with her, afraid she would somehow see Theory in me. “Just wait for it, there’s more.”

  As the moon shone brighter, glowing puddles of sprouts bloomed from the ground around us. We both stood up, watching the soil flower to life. All sizes of iridescent mushrooms opened their caps like miniature umbrellas. The dirt rippled with movement around our feet, making Mikayla stumble back a bit. “What the? This is…! Where’s it all coming from?”

  I held still, watching her reaction sprout just as bright as the field below us. “Some place magic, I guess.”

  “Magic? That stuff ain’t real,” she scoffed.

  “Oh yeah? Then how do you explain all of this?”

  But Mikayla wasn’t listening anymore. She had bent down again to pet the tops of the mushrooms. The glow of green covered the sides of her face and I watched as a softness washed over her expression. A kid-like smile broke open over the fields of fungi that surrounded us.

  She looked up at me. “Is there more?”

  Her question filled me with kindness. “Yes.”

  I slowly lifted my arm up to the height of my shoulder and opened my hand so that my fingers stretched into the night air. As if clicking on the light switch of the forest, a familiar group of fireflies began to flicker into light. Instead of keeping them close to me, though, I pushed them into all directions. They hovered over the length of the forest floor clearing, waiting for my next signal.

  Mikayla stood back up in awe. “Oh, wow, Sam.”

  The forest glowed in all directions as Mikayla finally relaxed. She giggled and flinched as the tiny light bugs whispered hellos to her. “There is magic here.”

  I smiled, grateful that she was finally letting go. “I know. Imagine what else is out there waiting for us, if all of this exists.”

  She stopped playing with the fireflies and sighed. After a moment of staring into the sky, she reached into her pocket and handed me the knife. “Here.”

  I took it from her cautiously. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry that happened, Sam. It just got too hard all of a sudden,” she said regretfully.

  I put Dodger’s knife in my back pocket, grateful to have it out of sight again. “It’s okay, friend. We all get that way. Maybe next time we can figure it out together before it gets that hard.”

  She smiled, her eyes glistening at the hint of tears. “Yeah.”

  Wanting to break the tension of the conversation, I lifted my hand slightly and orchestrated the fireflies back into movement. As I gestured my hand in different directions, the fireflies followed. They swooped and swirled, creating light patterns in the darkness.

  “Make them go in circles,” Mikayla laughed.

  Smiling proudly, I pointed my index finger to the heavens and spun my forearm in circles. The flies rushed into an oval pattern around us, illuminating our bodies with streaks of yellow light. After several loops around us, I spread my fingers wide and sent them back into the atmosphere to float freely.

  We played in the glow-in-the dark field for a bit longer before deciding we were tired enough to head back. As we marched, the lion heart spoke. “Hey, Sam?”

  “Yeah, friend?”

  “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime,” I replied gently.

  As we hiked to the campsite, Mikayla took the lead. If I didn’t know better, it almost looked as if she was skipping. The moon lit our path just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a single Ulysses butterfly floating away from Mikayla and into the night. I smiled quietly, being careful to keep my excitement to myself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “All right, who wants to play a game?” yelled Dodger, excitedly.

  “Oh, oh, definitely me!” squealed Rishawn, raising his hand as if we were all in class and the teacher had just asked who wanted extra recess time.

  Mikayla sat up from her book, already preparing to be annoyed. “What kind of game? Do we hafta move? I’m comfortable right now.”

  I chuckled to myself, secretly sharing her unwillingness to do anything physical right now. Dodger picked up a hefty piece of driftwood. “No, Ms. Mikayla, you do not have to move. But you do have to yell at me.”

  Mikayla immediately perked up. “Well, that I can do! What’re the rules?”

  “What? I don’t want her yellin’ at me,” Rishawn said loudly, suddenly thinking twice about his decision to participate.

  “No, not like that, Rishawn. Let me explain,” Dodger said amicably, holding up his driftwood. “It’s a game I made up, called ‘Stick-in-the-Mud.’ The way you play is, someone has a stick, like this. Then their partner makes a mud pile while the stick-holder isn’t watching. The stick-holder then has to find their way to a pile of mud on the ground and shove the stick in it, with their eyes closed!”

  Mikayla wasn’t having it. “How is that a game? We’ll all be wandering around the entire forest running into trees and things, probably falling off a cliff somewhere!”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the visual of people bumping into trees with their eyes closed. Rishawn obviously shared the same visual because he was covering his mouth with his hand, giggling.

  Dodger held up his hand to temper the crowd. “Hold on, I’m not done explaining it. The point of the game is to learn how to trust each other. The stick-holder will have their eyes closed and their partner has to yell ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ to let them know whether they’re close or far away from the mud. Whoever gives the best directions to their partner will lead them to the mud pile sooner and help them win. But we have to trust each other to not let each other run into trees. So if you see your partner walking toward something that hurts, yell ‘stop’!”

  “I like it,” cheered Rishawn, jumping to his feet to grab a stick. “Okay, it’s me and Sam versus Dodger and Mikayla!”

  I glanced at Dodger, waiting for his reaction. Could he trust Mikayla enough to be his partner? Without hesitating, the ever-diplomatic Dodger smiled. “Awesome! Let’s go for it.”

  Feeling encouraged by the group having a new activity, I stood up and walked toward the water. “All right, Rishawn. We need to stay focused and ready!”

  “I gotchu,” he replied, dropping his voice.

  As the boys hid behind a nearby tree with their eyes closed, Mikayla and I scooped up gray clay from the lake bottom and each created a pile of mud for our partners. Mikayla stacked her pile close to the water’s edge, while I laid mine near a patch of grass to prevent Rishawn from tripping over any logs. After rinsing our hands in the water, Mikayla smiled at me competitively and yelled. “All right team, we’re coming to get you!”

  Mikayla and I took our corresponding team members and led them into an opening near the water. She checked to make sure both boys had their eyes shut tight. “No cheating, y’all. We’ll know if you open your eyes at all.”

  Dodger shook his head. “We won’t. This game is about trust. Got it, Rishawn?”

  “Got it,” he said enthusiastically, hardly being able to hold still he was so thrilled to begin.

  “Ready, set,” counted down Mikayla. “go!”

  With the clap of our hands, both Mikayla and I began yelling temperatures of direction to our partners. “Hot! Cold! No, no, way cold. You’re freezing, get back to where you were!”

  Rishawn was bending his knees, as if sk
ateboarding. “Is it still hot, Sam?”

  “You’re warm, buddy. Just keep going slowly,” I encouraged.

  Dodger had spread his arms out to avoiding running into anything. He was surprisingly calm and focused. I watched the shade of the trees run over his arms and got lost in how attractive he was, even with his eyes closed.

  “Ouch,” yelped Rishawn, breaking my trance. He had managed to bump into a log even though I had placed the mud far away from one.

  “Shoot, sorry friend,” I apologized, feeling bad that I had gotten distracted. “Take two steps back and then you’ll be warm again. I’m so sorry!”

  “It’s okay, I just don’t want to step on the mud before I put my stick in it,” said Rishawn, clearly mapping out his strategy.

  Mikayla continued yelling directions to Dodger. “Warm, warm, whoops. Good job, okay, getting hotter!”

  Because I was afraid that Rishawn would run into another log, I didn’t see that Mikayla had been directing Dodger right toward the lake. “Hotter,” she yelled, with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Keep going.”

  Protectively watching Rishawn navigate the clumps of grass, I started to grow excited that he was getting closer to our pile of mud. Right before I could yell another clue, though, I heard Dodger panic. “Ahhh! No, no, no!”

  We all turned toward his voice, eyes wide opened, horrified to see him flailing in the water alone. Mikayla had lead him straight into the water, where he tripped into a drop-off. Scared of seeing someone normally so strong crying out for help, we all instinctively raced to the water to rescue our friend.

  I was the first to reach him, jumping into the deep end in a desperate attempt to anchor him to safety. Dodger grabbed onto me, just as Mikayla cupped her hand around his wrist to pull him toward the shore. Together we held onto one another and pulled each other out of the lake. Rishawn met us on the beach with a blanket.

  Dodger crawled onto the sand and stayed knelt over for a few minutes. I knelt beside him, holding his side, trying to stop his shivering. Mikayla yanked the blanket from Rishawn’s hands and threw it over Dodger. “I am so, so sorry, Dodger. It was supposed to be a joke! I didn’t know it would scare you. I am so sorry.”