by Will Hobbs
“Hang on!” yelled Al. “Hang on, Freddy! I’m coming around!”
I heard the others react, the ones waiting behind and below. They were frightened and thrilled at the same time, as if they were witnessing a spectacular auto accident. “Hold her! Hang on, Jessie!” Star called.
“No way,” Pug said. “He’s not going to make it in time.”
“Don’t say it,” I heard Star plead. “You’ll make it happen.”
Something was keeping Al. Star told me afterwards that he was having all kinds of trouble climbing above and past me, by another route, to Freddy’s position.
My hands reached out and fended my body off the cliff. “Freddy!” I screamed, as I freed my face from the wall. “Freddy!”
“I got you!” he hollered. “I got you!” His voice came out kind of strangled. I knew he was barely managing to hang on to me when I heard that.
All the blood had rushed to my head. I was dangling there forever. It was taking too impossibly long. The way everyone was shouting, I knew Freddy must be losing his grip. Any moment now, he’d have to drop me. I was so bewildered. Was I going to die?
Star told me afterwards, Freddy was a sight to see. He’s not that big, but he has wide shoulders and narrow hips, and all the muscles in his arms and neck were standing out like whipcord. She said she’s never seen that kind of determination in her whole life. It did take forever, she said, but somehow Freddy held on, until finally Al scrambled down next to him. The two of them hauled me up enough so that I could right myself and work my way back across the ledge to Troy’s grasp and safety.
An hour later the clouds opened and the sun shone on Storm King Peak. We were down below, having bailed out. No one—not even Al—brought up going for the peak after what had happened. So we’d failed what was supposed to have been the big event of the first stage of Discovery Unlimited.
The rest were having a raging fight as they were eating lunch by the sign at the base of the mountain, the one that says,
WARNING:
STORM KING PEAK IS INFAMOUS
FOR ITS EXTREME WEATHER,
EXPOSURE, AND ROTTEN ROCK.
THREE HAVE DIED HERE.
THINK BEFORE YOU ADD
YOUR NAME TO THE LIST.
People were yelling about how it all happened and what we should have done. Rita was born with a set of lungs, and she was exercising them in spades. A couple of octaves higher, Heather played her screeching violin for all it was worth, as if she could shred Al with her voice alone, while Pug thundered curses and bristled back and forth like a grizzly bear uncertain whether it was bluffing or charging. But most of all there was Troy. I’d never heard his voice raised before, and was he angry. “What do you mean having us climb that lousy mountain? Man, look at the sign! Three people died on Storm King! You coulda got Jessie killed, idiot!”
“You picked the route, Troy. And it wasn’t the one we planned last night.”
I was confused. So were the rest—they fell silent.
“Whaddaya mean?” Pug demanded.
“The map, Troy. I guess you chose not to use it. That was a harder route than the one we discussed.”
Such a volley of curses I’ve never heard in my life.
“How come you didn’t say something?” Pug asked.
“Troy was the navigator today. You all know the rules.”
“I can’t believe it!” Rita shouted, beside herself. I looked over there and saw her right in Troy’s face. “I can’t believe him and I can’t believe you! You took us up the wrong way! We coulda all been killed. Why didn’t you look at your map, Troy?”
Troy walked off. I couldn’t blame Troy. Nobody else had helped him out. It was Al I was angry with, for risking my life just because of his stupid rules, angry at my dad for letting him do it, and hating Madeline. I went over what I was going to tell my dad as soon as I got to a telephone. “Get me out of here,” I rehearsed through clenched teeth. “Get me out of here!”
With a start I looked up and saw that Freddy had sought me out. I was jumpy. What did he want?
He didn’t say anything at first. He sat down on a rock and looked out across the meadow, turned red and gold with the hard frosts of early October. He was watching a pika, a little animal like a ball of fur, scurry from rock to rock with a bunch of grass in its mouth. “We call ’em rock rabbits,” he said finally.
I didn’t say anything. I wished he would leave me alone. Obviously he thought he was entitled to hit on me because he’d saved my life.
“You know what he’s doing with that grass?” Freddy asked in his musical accent.
“No, I don’t know what he’s doing with that grass,” I said flatly.
He looked at me like maybe he would leave, but he explained, “They don’t hibernate—they run around all winter under the snow. They have to have something to eat, so they cut grass and dry it all summer, and take it underground. They’re hay farmers.”
“I never heard that before,” I said sarcastically. “Now if I say ‘thank you,’ will you leave me alone?”
He was really embarrassed. He stood up quickly. “I just wanted to—oh, forget it.”
He left. And I felt like a complete heel.
// 3
Troy and I walked together on the long hike from Storm King back to base camp. We lagged behind the others so we could talk. I was feeling defeated, pretty sorry for myself. “I don’t know what to do,” I told Troy. “I want to call up my father and scream at him, but if he lets me go home, you can bet it’ll be on his terms.”
“Forget about your dad for a while,” he suggested. “The mountain-climbing part is over, anyway, and we’re heading for the desert. I’m really looking forward to the river-running, myself. I love water.”
Being with him was so soothing. I asked, “What kind of water stuff do you like?” I wanted to learn all about him.
“Are you ready for this?” he said with the most engaging smile. He was handsome, sure enough, with his blue eyes, sun-bleached blond hair, and slim build. Usually he seemed so much older and more serious, but at the moment he was positively boyish, and I found it irresistible.
“What is it? It can’t be that weird. I’ll bet you don’t sell aquariums door-to-door.”
“Surfing.”
“Why didn’t I think of it?” I laughed. “You’re blond, you’re tan. . . .”
“And I practically grew up on the beach, in San Diego. I love moving water, Jessie. I’ve always thought I’d like white-water rafting. . . . There was a guy I knew at the beach, an older guy, best surfer I ever met—he always talked about rivers being the ultimate. He used to talk about the rapids in the Grand Canyon all the time.”
“So does Al,” I said, “but we aren’t going to the Grand Canyon. We’re just going to the San Juan River, and it’s supposed to be pretty flat.”
“Gotta start somewhere, and it’ll be warm out there, Jessie. It’s in the desert.”
“That’s what Al keeps saying.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“Yes?”
He reached out and touched my cheek. “Don’t blow that whistle. I don’t want you to leave.”
I laughed. “I would hate to be the first one.”
“Don’t be afraid, Jessie. There’s nothing like new experiences in life. What are you, sixteen?”
“Almost.”
He shrugged. “In a lot of countries you’re grown up when you’re thirteen. Your father’s trying to psych you out so he can stay in control. He wants to put you through something, tame you down, so you’ll play by his rules.”
“Well, it’s all down the tubes now.”
Troy let it drop. Troy was the most sensitive guy I’d ever met. He watched and he listened much more than he talked. His eyes did the talking. Trust me was what they said.
I scrambled to bring the conversation back to life. “You seem awfully independent. Were you raised that way?”
“I guess you could say that. My parents are pretty much on their o
wn trip—they live in Europe, do a lot of traveling. I have a couple of sisters, but they’re a lot older than I am. I hardly know them, really. I guess I was kind of an afterthought—or an accident, more likely. I lived with my grandparents when I was a kid, and then got sent to different boarding schools in the East.”
“Sounds like it must have been pretty hard on you. . . .”
He shrugged. “There was good and bad, I guess, but I came out my own person.”
He had such an easy way of talking, like his way of moving. Natural grace. A laid-back, unconceited self-confidence. “I admire your independence,” I told him.
“Like the song says, ‘the past is just a good-bye.’”
“I feel so humiliated about what happened back on the mountain. I was absolutely terrified. That’s never happened to me before in my life.”
“Forget it,” he said easily. “Just another experience. You move on.”
“Because of me, nobody got to the top.”
“I thought I was the one who got to feel guilty about that, remember? Picked the wrong route?”
“No, it was my fault. I just panicked. Everybody has been good about not saying so, but we all know it would’ve felt great to be standing on the very top of that mountain.”
Troy was pained. “That’s exactly what Al would like you to think. I can’t believe the guy’s judgment. He should never have put you or the rest of us in that situation. We don’t have the experience.”
“But that’s what outdoor schools do.”
“You know what I think? It’s all a power trip. They create this situation where they can turn you into putty. They scare you to death and then they save you. I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of people playing God with my life.”
“You can say that again.”
We walked up on the others, who were standing around uncomfortably, trying to take the weight off their shoulders without removing their packs. Al would rarely allow a pack break. From the looks on their faces, it was obvious even from a distance that they’d been waiting for us to catch up. “What’s up?” Rita said. “You two having your own private experience?”
Pug snickered. I didn’t say anything. Rita would love to have Troy’s attention; so would the others, especially Pug. People looked up to him and wanted to get closer to him. He granted his favors sparingly, which meant they were all the more in demand.
Somebody, I noticed, was missing. “Where’s Freddy?” I asked.
Al called Freddy’s name a few times, but no answer came. Freddy was like that, a loner who could vanish on cat’s feet. During basic training, before the Storm King expedition, Freddy would disappear from camp whenever we had free time. We had a day off before the big hike, and he was long gone. I was relaxing on the cabin porch in the hammock that afternoon, when I noticed a solitary figure climbing above timberline toward a gap in the peaks towering above the camp. I’m sure it was Freddy.
“What if he splits?” Pug asked Al. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not worried,” Al said. “Freddy’ll be back.” He wasn’t about to launch into a “what if” discussion with Pug.
Pug laughed. “And if he doesn’t show up, it’s between him and his probation officer, right?”
I wondered if Freddy took off because of me.
My mind shot back to my predicament on the cliff face, and I saw Freddy once again on the other end of the rope. “I got you! I got you!”
I felt bad, I felt confused. I had every reason to like Freddy. He’d always had a good word for me in his bashful way, and I’d been so cruel. I thought about Troy’s reaction on the mountain, when I was pleading for him to help me. Why hadn’t he even tried? He’d fallen silent, seeming as paralyzed as I was. I put it out of my mind. There probably wasn’t anything he could do.
Underway again, Troy and I kept up for a while, then lagged behind once more. The weather was building again, and the sun was gone. Visiting with Troy, I didn’t even care that it was cooling off and threatening to rain. “Adam’s a kick,” I was saying. “He doesn’t take himself seriously.”
“Adam doesn’t take anything seriously.”
“You’re right. He can turn anything into fun.”
“Here’s one you’d appreciate. . . . Back in his hometown in Kansas he would actually dress up like a ninja, robe and sword and all, and sneak around at night, climbing trees and prowling rooftops, and he’d come in through girls’ windows and leave roses on their pillows.”
“He could’ve been shot!”
“I guess,” Troy said.
“Did he ever get caught?”
“Sure, that’s how he wound up here, but you know Adam . . . he didn’t take that seriously, either. He’s a bit of a space case, but in a different way than Star. She’s in deep space, wouldn’t you say?”
I had to think for a minute about how to describe Star.
“At first I thought I wouldn’t even be able to relate to her, but now I’m getting to like her.”
“The crystals and the jewelry, the peasant blouse, the whole gypsy bit—don’t you think it’s a sign of bad brain fuzz?”
I laughed. “‘Brain fuzz.’ . . . Yeah, I guess you could say she’s got some of that, but she means well, and that’s what counts.”
“Interesting. Where’s she from?”
“Well, I know she grew up in foster homes and group homes, and she’s even lived on the street.”
“You mean, like homeless?”
“That’s the impression I get—I still don’t know her very well. She’s a mystery, really intriguing. She seems like one of those people you hear about who never bonded with anyone when they were young, and then they spend their lives drifting. You know, the people in this group . . . they’re more interesting than I thought they’d be. They’re not what I expected.”
“You’re much more relaxed than when you first got here. I remember watching you—”
“Back in base camp?”
“Sure. You didn’t know what to expect. You thought you were going to be attacked at any moment.”
“I thought I didn’t let on.”
He smiled and winked. “I can tell these things. But you adapted fast. You have a lot of personal strength. But you’re still afraid of Pug, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never liked guys that are always flexing their muscles.”
“Well, let me tell you the worst—he stabbed somebody.”
“You’re kidding!”
“He was raised by his stepfather, a really mean guy, I guess. Beat Pug and his little brother up all the time. That’s why Pug’s always looking for a shoulder to punch or somebody to sit on.”
“I don’t know how you can stand that, him punching you all the time. I think he’s creepy.”
“It’s just a little ritual. Anyway, a couple of years ago Pug put a knife in his stepfather. Lucky for Pug he didn’t kill him—they would have put him away for sure.”
“That’s scary. Don’t you think it’s scary?”
Troy shook his head. “He’s no danger to us. Guys like Pug don’t have any mental toughness, and as long as you realize that you can stay way out in front of them.”
I was impressed. “You know a lot about people.”
“It’s kind of a hobby.”
“So what do you make of Heather and Rita?”
He smiled. “Heather’s your classic nobody. Probably ran away a dozen times, doesn’t have any idea what she’s doing. Always trying to impress somebody. I’ll bet anything her father’s an alcoholic—like Adam’s.”
“You amaze me. You’re incredibly perceptive.”
“And Rita—I get a huge kick out of her, as long as she’s not on my case. She’s for real. She grew up with six brothers, no sisters. You know she actually ran a burglary ring in New York City? Had people bring her hot jewelry, TVs, stereos, and she would fence ’em herself.”
“Who told you?”
“She did.”
“She was bragging.�
�
“Of course. But all the same, she was telling the truth. I can tell.”
I hesitated, and then said, “What about Freddy?”
Troy hesitated too. He looked at me and cast around as if to find something, and then he said, “I can’t get a fix on him—he doesn’t talk to anybody. One thing I’ve figured out . . . you kind of like him, don’t you?”
I was surprised. “Why do you say that?”
“Oh, just a hunch.”
“I told him to get lost.”
“Maybe you did, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
Confused, I looked away, then stopped in the trail. We looked each other in the eyes. Troy’s deep, deep blue eyes were staring into mine with that same unblinking, soul-seizing look he’d fastened on me before. This time I didn’t blink either, and I didn’t look away. “I don’t care about Freddy,” I said.
It started to rain. We looked a little longer into each other’s eyes, and then we finally took off our packs and broke out our rain gear. We walked another mile or so, quiet now, because we couldn’t hear anything with our hoods up but the rain. We came upon the others huddled under the shaggy limbs of a big spruce, and this time they didn’t say anything. They were standing around spouting jets of vapor, like horses.
Several steep miles below us, base camp came into sight and made a homey picture, with its little log cabins alongside the river. We weren’t that far away from hot showers, a good hot meal, and rest. Al seized the optimism of the moment to walk alongside me and see if I was ready for some counseling. “How do you feel now, Jessie? Any better?”
“Not really,” I said, even though I did. What was I going to say? Sure, Al, I’m feeling much better. Thank you very much for terrifying me out of my mind and almost killing me.
“I understand,” he said. “It was scary. But Jessie, you have to believe in your own unlimited potential. I really believe that. Stretch yourself. Do something great. Dare to be great. Don’t accept your limitations; outgrow them.”
That did it. “Get lost, Al!” I screamed at him. “Get away from me, and take your condescending psychobabble with you!”
Rita and Pug were howling, and Troy smiled approvingly at Al’s confusion. I couldn’t believe Al thought he could do that to me and get away with it. I’d heard all this back in Boulder a hundred times before. And they think you should have to take it just because you’re a kid and they’re the adults.
