by Vivien Vale
Sure enough, she turns and skips back to me.
“Here?”
She’s out of breath, and her knees are dirty and a little blood-smeared.
“Looks good.”
I hold up my camera and look through the viewfinder.
“Smile.”
I take several shots.
“Wait, Amelia,” I call to her as she’s about to take off again.
Amelia turns toward me.
“Yes, Mommy?”
The way she looks at me makes my heart melt. It’s amazing how much my life’s changed since she’s turned up.
I walk up to her and lean down toward her to kiss the tip of her nose. At the same time, I ruffle her hair.
“You need to stay away from the edge, sweety.”
Her big brown eyes look up at me.
“Why, Mommy?”
I chuckle.
I barely remember a time when there wasn’t the ‘why’ question in my life.
Amelia, these days, seems to constantly ask why.
Nothing happens without the why question. If I tell her to wash her hands, she’ll ask why. If I tell her to eat her dinner, she’ll ask why. Sometimes it can get wearing.
With a sigh, I squat down beside her and take hold of her hand.
“Well,” I start and watch her jump from her left to her right foot, unable to stand still, joie de vivre flowing through her in abundance, so much so that she’s barely able to stand still.
All my little girl wants to do is live life to the fullest and make the most of every second of the day. It’s great to see, but it’s also hard work at times, like today.
“See how it’s steep down there?” I point to my left to the edge of the path. “If you run too close to the path and trip you might go tumbling down, and then what am I going to do?”
She scrunches up her nose and squints her eyes. It’s her thinking face.
“You would come after me and save me, Mommy.”
I throw my arms around her to hug her.
“Of course I would, but you might still get hurt and that wouldn’t be good.”
Her little arms are now around my neck.
“I’ll be fine, Mommy,” she whispers into my ear, and I love her confident sentiment.
“Why don’t we walk together for a bit?”
I straighten up and take her hand. She looks up at me and nods.
We walk side by side, hand in hand, for about four strides before she breaks free and runs off again.
“Look, Mommy,” she calls pointing at something I can’t see.
I sigh. Maybe I should have bought one of those child restraints.
“Mommy,” she’s come back already. “Can my photo be in your next exhibition?”
With a chuckle, I nod.
“Sure, why not.”
A satisfied grin spreads across her face, and she takes off again. My eyes follow her before I look around. I take a deep breath, and inhale the crisp cool mountain air.
It’s beautiful up here. Not a soul in sightmountains, trees, and valleys as far as the eye can see. My keen photographer’s eye can spot plenty of fantastic shots, but it’s hard to focus on taking photos with Amelia bouncing around like an out of control gazelle.
Trouble is, she’s not as nimble nor as coordinated as a gazelle, and has already taken a tumble earlier on the path. Luckily, she only sustained a minor graze on her knee.
For my work, it would be better if I didn’t have her along, but being a single mom means I’ve got little choice in the matter. Generally, wherever I go, Amelia comes, too.
I take a random shot when I hear her squeal. Instantly, I turn my attention back to my daughter.
“Amelia,” I call and see her chasing after something.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Phew. She wasn’t in trouble…yet.
The edge of the path was not far from where she was running.
“Amelia,” I call, but she pays no attention.
Her eyes and her entire concentration are on whatever she’s following.
“The edge, darling, remember the edge.”
Just then, I can see what’s taken her fancy. It’s a deep blue butterfly, and, as if sensing a mother’s fear, the creature changes its flight pattern and moves away from the danger of the path’s edge.
Quickly, I find the two in my viewfinder and take some shots before I follow.
Amelia is laughing and clapping her hands.
“Watch out,” I call…too late.
Her feet find a large rock on the path, and she trips.
Instantly, I’m by her side. She’s lying face first on the ground. It takes her a few seconds to lift her head, and when she sees blood on her hands, she starts to cry.
Gently, I pick her up and cradle her in my arms.
“Shhh,” I whisper into her ear, patting her head with one hand, and brushing the gravel off her knees with the other.
Less than a minute passes, and she pulls away from me. She wipes her tear stained cheeks, sobs one last time before her lips curl into a smile again.
It always amazes me how quickly kids turn from tears to laughter and vice versa.
“Did you see the butterfly, mommy?”
I nod.
“He was so pretty.”
“He sure was, and you know what?”
Her eyes look at me.
“I got a photo.”
She claps her hands and delight spreads over hr face.
“Can I see?”
“Sure.”
I scroll through the photos and show her. Amelia says nothing as she presses her button nose as close as she can onto the screen. And then she’s off again.
To my right, I spot a flower. It’s magnificent, and I’d never seen one like it. After I throw a quick glance in Amelia’s direction and seeing she’s safe, I go take a photo of this exotic find.
I zoom in on the deep purple petals and the pink centre. My finger adjusts the focus and then I take several shots. Before I change angle and position, I check on Amelia again.
She’s skipping up and down the path waiting for me.
“Come on, Mommy,” she calls.
“In a second, sweetie. I just want to take a few more photos of this beauty.”
“Stop,” I hear Amelia call, and I look up.
There’s the butterfly again, and my daughter is hot on its tail. Only this time the insect is moving to the edge of the path.
Rats.
And then things happened too fast for me to do anything about it.
“Amelia!” I hear myself scream, but I don’t think she heard me.
As my voice is carried toward her, her little body disappears over the edge.
I cover the distance faster than Bolt runs the hundred meters, and follow my little girl blindly.
“Mommy!” she’s screaming, and I see her little face disappear down the side of the mountain, surrounded along the side by rocks.
The ground is soft and loose from the snowmelt.
Earth, dirt, and pebbles move past me, grabbing my daughter and taking her with them.
Talons of fear rip into my heart, and I throw myself literally after Amelia.
“Give me your hand,” I scream, but I’m not sure if she can hear me.
As we keep tumbling down the mountain, I grit my teeth and reach for her. The tips of my fingers just touch her, but it’s not enough for me to grab and clutch her.
I need to get to her. I shut out everything and try again.
By now, Amelia’s screaming for her life. It’s high-pitched and painful to hear.
And then, I manage to get hold of her hand. With strength I didn’t know I had, I pull her to me.
Now she’s in my arms, I hug her to me tightly, and try to slow down our fall. But nothing seems to be working.
Frantically, I look around for a solution to stop our plummet to certain death.
A tree root sticking out of the ground seems to be my only hope. If I can grab it in time it might stop
our fall. Stopping our fall is only the first step. By now, most of the mountain seems to be cascading toward us.
I grab the root and hold my breath.
I need to make this work. As my fingers wrap as tight as they can around the gnarled wood, I feel a rip in my shoulder, and my body is jolted to a sudden stop.
Briefly, I breathe a sigh of relief.
And then I look upwards to see how far we’ve fallen and feel a huge lump in the back of my throat.
Holy shit.
With the amount of rubble and other crap coming toward us, I don’t think we’re going to get out of this predicament alive. I turn my body to shield Amelia as best as I can, and send a silent prayer up to the heavens, having run out of other options.
Boone
I hurdle over fallen trees, I jump over giant boulders, and I leap over massive ravines to get to where the scream is coming from.
There’s a huge amount of ground to cover, but I’m up for it.
I’ve trained for this type of emergency. My body knows exactly what to do.
In my fire fighting days, I was one of the best. If they needed someone to go inside a burning building, they would get me to do it. Nothing was impossible.
Of course, I would never put my team at risk. And yet, I lost members. The knowledge still haunts me to this day.
It happened during a rescue mission of a burning fifty-six-storey building.
What really grates on my nerves is the entire thing could have been avoided, from the start of the fire to the attempted rescue and subsequent failure. I got out, but I wasn’t able to get my members out with me.
A branch of a low hanging tree smacks me in the face. Tiny droplets of blood trickle down my cheek, but I ignore it.
My feet fly across the ground. The scream is getting louder, I must be getting closer.
Even from my distance, I can see a massive rockslide ahead of me.
Fuck.
Don’t tell me someone’s trapped in that!
Rockslides can be worse than avalanches. While they don’t increase in size the way an avalanche does, they’re lethal. With the speed of the loose rocks, pebbles, and debris ever increasing, if you’re caught in it, you may as well kiss your life good bye.
My eyes scan the grey side of the mountain. The area is particularly unstable as a result of the recent snowmelt.
The snow lingered longer than usual. But now, all of it is gone. Unfortunately, things haven’t hardened up enough to provide much needed stability to the face of the mountain.
Whatever has disturbed the surface, it’s done a good job. It’s so steep here, and not much grows, leaving a very unstable environment. To make matters worse, a bush fire ravaged the area severely a few years ago and destroyed some of the trees.
Those trees provided extra support for the mountain. With the trees gone, so went the support. So far, no one has offered to help replace the dead trees or offer a different solution to stabilize the side of the mountain.
Up here in the wilderness, you realize how small and insignificant we, humans, really are. Nature is wonderful, powerful, and amazing all at the same time.
Something in the middle of the steep slope catches my eye.
It looks like a person.
Camera-like, I zoom in on the point of interest. Definitely human, not very big though. Was it female? Quite likely.
There was something strange about the stature though.
As I process the information I’m picking up, I realize two others things. First, there’s a huge load of shale, rocks, and small boulders heading straight for the poor person. Second, it hits me like a fly hitting a windscreen—the “person” is actually an adult and a small child.
The knowledge that there’s a small child in danger has me doubling my efforts. I increase my stride and pick up my speed.
My brain is working overtime to fine tune my rescue plan. Any rescue requires an excellent plan and perfect execution. Obviously, this rescue just sprung on me, and I haven’t had time to prepare, but I’ve trained out here on my own for the last few years.
I’ve trained for any eventuality.
I may not have trained specifically for a potential woman and child needing to be rescued off the moving mountain face. But I’ve trained to cross a rockslide and drag a bear cub to safety.
Only last year, a wayward baby bear caused his poor mother a ginormous headache when it played too close to the path and tumbled down this very embankment. From memory, there’s a large rock protruding from the ground some distance below where I sought shelter with said baby bear.
By now, I’m running so fast my eyes are watering. I’m now only a few feet away from the edge. As I approach it, I get ready to jump.
I need to make it a good one. I can’t go back and do it again, to catch up with the woman and child. By now, I can see it’s a woman. I must get there as fast as possible.
In my mind, I count one, two, and three and then jump as if I was a ski jumper taking part in the Olympics, and going for gold.
As I fly through the air, I scan the area. The rock I used last year is still there. From where I am, it still looks like my best option. With more shit coming down, the woman and child will be crushed unless I get them into a safer spot. I land feet first slightly to their right and skid, leaning hard into the mountain the rest of the way.
The woman can’t see me; she’s huddled into the child. Looks like a little girl.
By now, the scream has stopped.
For a second, I debate my next move. When a football-sized rock hits my shin, I know it’s time to get a fucking a move on. If I keep standing here, we’ll all be crushed by rocks.
“I’ve got you,” I mumble and grab the two of them.
There’s no resistance. The woman doesn’t even turn around to look at me.
All of her attention is focused on the little girl. I’m assuming it’s a girl because of the pink top, the pink cap with a unicorn on it and the pink hiking boots.
I have to shake my head.
Pink hiking boots are a first. I’m not sure if I approve or not. At least they stick out and draw attention to her position.
The woman isn’t dressed as brightly as the girl and, therefore, harder to spot.
For a micro-second, I hover on the spot. My next move is risky. But it’s really the only viable option I’ve got.
If we stay where we are, we’re going to get crushed for sure. Okay, so I would probably be alright, but I doubt that even I could provide enough shelter and protection to these two from what’s about to come.
I take a deep breath and then join the debris plummeting downward. Precision and timing are now going to be everything. The giant boulder I’m looking for is approaching faster than I had anticipated. It also looks like I’m too far to the right of it.
I need to get us closer. If I don’t, I’ll slide right past and take my two protégés to their certain death. With all the strength I can muster, I start to move sideways. Rocks, slate, and dirt hit my feet. But I’m not deterred.
Like a bulldozer, I plough across the mountain face.
I glance to my left and vow that no lives will be lost here today, at least not while I’m still standing and breathing.
Just when I think I’m going to take these two to safety, I feel my right foot lose its footing. Now, all my weight and that of the woman and her child are supported on my left foot.
The boulder is so close now. I think I might even be able to touch it if I straighten out my arm and reach for it. But the smooth surface makes it impossible to grab. I’ve not recovered from being unbalanced. I’m dangerously close to falling.
It’s decision time.
I take another deep breath and then shove the woman and the small girl away from me.
Now that I’ve got less weight behind me, I’m able to regain my footing and follow the moving bodies.
Of course, I’ve timed the pushing almost to perfection, and I see the woman and the child huddle behind the larg
e rock, where the surface is a little more stable.
With two large strides I’m behind them, and once again, I wrap my arms around them to keep them protected from loose missile coming over the top.
We stay huddled like this for a long time. It seems like hours, but in reality, I know it’s only about twenty minutes. Around us, the rocks pile up, eventually drowning out some of the sunlight.
Nature has a way of turning disasters off as fast as it turns them on.
When I’m confident it’s safe, I take a step back from the huddled figures. There’s not much room to move. We’re closed in by stones and debris.
“You’re okay now,” I say and try and put some warmth into my voice.
I don’t want to frighten the woman nor the child. Slowly, the figure unfurls, and I feel a lump form in the back of my throat. Those features are familiar.
The minute she starts to turn her head, I hold my breath.
Holy shit.
Fuck.
I can’t believe my eyes.
It just can’t be true. Maybe one of those loose rocks hit me in the head, and now I’m suffering from a hallucination. Because what I’m seeing can’t be what I’m seeing. The woman looks like Margot, and, therefore, I know I’m completely fucked in the head.
As she looks directly at me, our eyes meet.
And as I look at herhair, body, and clothes covered in dust; scrapes, and bruises covering her bare legs, arms, and face, I’m falling in love with her all over again.
Margot
I clutch Amelia to my chest, holding her tight against me. All I can do is wait for the tumbling rocks to stop, for the world to become still again so that I might be able to get her out of this.
I can feel the stranger’s body towering over the two of us—his hard muscles press against my back, and I can feel his hot breath against my neck in the small gap we’ve carved out for ourselves beneath the boulders.
Our bodies are constantly brushing against each other, the cotton of his clothes stroking against my skin, and I can feel the pounding of his heart through his chest.
My hair stands on its end—I haven’t been this close to a man since…
Since Boone.
