“Well, sure,” he said. “That goes without saying.”
“Muir,” Kira groaned. “Stay…”
“Sean,” I said. “Walk us out?”
“Of course.” He put his hand on Kira’s elbow. “What happened?”
She shook her head.
As we maneuvered around the bonfire to the road, Tiana’s screech rose above the music, and I could see her shadow jumping from the crowd, waving frantically. “Bye, Kira, have a great night!” Then laughter.
Kira did not spill beer on herself.
Sean stood with his headlamp beside the road, and as Kira got in the car, he pulled me quickly to him. “She’s not okay,” he whispered.
“I’ll find out.”
“See you in the morning?”
“See you in the morning.”
He kissed me again, fast, and opened the passenger door for me, and waved as we pulled away for the quiet, beer-drenched drive back to her house.
“How’d she do it?” I asked.
Nothing.
“Kira. Did she pretend it was an accident?”
She nodded.
“What did you say?”
Silence.
“Kira. Why? You are a badass; you could shut her up for good in two seconds!”
“You didn’t say anything to Sean?”
“No. I didn’t and I won’t. But, Kira—”
She held the wheel tight. “Nine more months,” she said, tears spilling. “After graduation real life will start, and I’ll never have to see either one of them again. Just let me do it the way I need to, okay? Please?”
Already I was hatching a secret, elaborate plan to get Tiana expelled.
Friend, not “life or death” dependence. You’ll be gone after graduation, too.
“You’re right,” I said. “You’re right. I’ll leave it alone. I will.”
I will try.
“MY HAIR STILLS SMELLS like smoke,” Kira groaned. It was morning, the sun was barely up, not yet seven. “Now I have to wash my pillow.”
“At least you don’t smell like Natty Light anymore.” I yawned from my sleeping bag on the floor.
“Oh, please,” she said. “I’m sure it was European or a local microbrew. They’ve got their parents’ money and highbrow taste in what they prefer to throw up.”
We’d somehow gotten back to her house, clothes into the washer and Kira into the shower, without a parental run-in.
“Stay for breakfast? My mom would love to make you eat a thousand pancakes. She’s as bad as Francine with the food pushing.”
“I wish I could,” I said honestly. “I’m off to Salishwood.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She smiled. “Work: the walk-of-shame edition.”
“We talked.”
“Tell that to Katiana,” she sighed. “You’re on their radar, you know. They’re jealous.”
“They’re toothless. If you told Sean—”
“No,” she said.
“Okay.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.”
“Just be careful,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “They better be. Dime a dozen peaking in high school cookie mannequins.”
“Accurate.”
“But now, Elliot…”
She put her face in her smoky pillow.
“He seems nice,” I said. “And like he should be a forward on a basketball team.”
She turned over and smiled wide. “He is one of those mythical sensitive, smart, straight boys.”
“Sasquatch of the XY pool.”
“And talented. He uses real film and takes actual photographs and makes these collages….” Her smile was gone. “That was fun, last night. Hanging out with those guys. Art class people. Three of them want me to draw their tattoos.”
“Kira. You should be in that class. Not those bitches.”
Stay in your lane.
She picked up her phone. “Ugh. Someone called in sick. Work in an hour. No pancakes for anyone. Want a ride to Francine’s?”
“Kira.”
“If you want a ride we’re going in twenty. Shower’s down the hall.”
“I’ll shower at Francine’s.”
“Okay, then wait for me here. If you go downstairs, Mom will shove food down your gullet till you beg for mercy.” She stumbled, still tired, to the door.
“Kira.”
She turned.
“I need…” I could not believe I was saying it. “I need new clothes. I need to wear something different sometimes.”
“Of course, look in the closet, you can borrow anything!”
“No, not just today. I mean, like, everything. New.”
“Oh.”
“I told Sean I’d go out with him on Saturday.”
Her smile was back. “Okay.”
“That’s all.”
“Okay. We can go shopping tomorrow.”
“I don’t need you to Pretty Woman me, I just…” Why was my throat getting tight? “I don’t have anything…nice.”
She stepped back in and grabbed my toes through the sleeping bag. “You will tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Sean working today, too?”
“Yes.”
“Leave the eyeliner on.”
* * *
—
I arrived, as always, twenty minutes early at Francine’s, who smiled a lot and made sure I took a banana for breakfast. She did not comment on the eyeliner. Then I rode the bus to Salishwood, where Natan creepily did.
Kira and the Myers-Briggs had set my guilt free. Yes, I silently derided Natan nonstop, but my instinct was not “judgment”—it was, in reality, more of an objective evaluation of abundant evidence. And all evidence pointed to his creepiness. Which I was not obligated to put up with.
“Well, well, well,” he sang. “Look who’s a painted goddess this morning.”
I rest my case. Who says three wells like that?
And what kind of jerk feels the need to comment, unbidden, on a woman’s physical appearance every single time he sees her?
I filled my water bottle and wished Sean would show up. My habit of arriving everywhere early was great for my foster care punctuality reputation, but not great for avoiding Natan, who seemed to never not be at Salishwood.
“Muiriel, you are a natural beauty,” he said. “There’s no need to conform to society’s patriarchal norms for the world to see you. Because we already do. We see you—the true you.”
I turned and walked to the lodge to get the day’s lessons lowdown from Jane and put some space between me and Mr. Anti-Sephora. The schedule was posted on the corkboard near the office. Leave No Trace Ethics 10:00 a.m. Natan
“Oh, dear God, no,” Sean said behind me.
I turned. “You need to tell me when you’re getting here from now on,” I said. “I can’t deal with him alone; he is horrifying.”
“Done,” he said. “From now on we’ll walk together.”
“In the interest of Natan avoidance.”
“Yes.”
Then we stood and smiled dopily at each other so that I had the actual thought, Who the crap am I? Eyeliner aside, those girls—all of them, any of them—were so beautiful. Delicate, glossy hair, makeup always pretty. What could he possibly see in me? And what was I doing worrying about it? Disregarding a lifetime of careful avoidance of just this sort of distraction from my goal of aging out independent and unencumbered? Where was my backbone of unwavering self-esteem?
Alone in the lodge Sean kissed me, two days in a row kissing a guy, praying I was doing it right and thinking, Seriously, who the hell am I? His strong hands, that dark, shorn hair, those dark eyes—to be fair I could have resisted all that. Be
autiful boys have always adorned the halls of Seattle’s high schools. But his beauty combined with his wilderness prowess and his admiration and respect for the forest and for my encyclopedic knowledge of the wild and Muir’s place in it, which everyone else my age I’ve met thinks is ridiculous but he thinks is enviable and somehow means I’m really smart, which then only seems to make him like me more?
That’s where my backbone went.
We hiked with a wily group of fifth graders, and then everyone gathered on the lawn around Natan, who was sitting like a benevolent overlord on a tree stump and soaking in the attention of all the eleven- and twelve-year-olds required to listen to him. “So,” he said, rubbing his long bony hands together, “Leave No Trace Ethics. Who knows what we should leave behind in the forest when we hike or camp?”
The kids were excited. “Footprints!” they shouted.
Natan closed his eyes. “Hands, please, one at a time.”
“Natan, give them a break,” Sean sighed. “They’re excited.”
Thank you.
“Everything we bring in, we pack out”—Natan barreled forward—“and how do we pack out all the things we bring in? Let’s start with feces.”
Oh, we definitely started with feces. Rolling it in cat litter, bagging it, tucking it into the backpack. His was a unique talent for making each detail as sordid as possible.
The kids tried for a while to not laugh, and then they gave in.
“Children,” Natan barked. “This is imperative. Especially young ladies, you need to understand that when the time comes for your moon blood—”
The boys howled. The girls were suddenly miserable.
“Whoa,” I shouted from my place in the back of the group, and I stood. “Natan, stop. Now.”
He gave me his sympathetic You poor, uneducated girl look. “Muiriel, I understand the male-dominated world has led you to believe that your monthly blood is not an appropriate topic, but please understand—”
“No, you understand. Stop saying ‘monthly blood’! The male-dominated world is you, co-opting a normal thing and turning it into your gross ‘moon blood’ Mother Earth crap. Just say ‘period’! Just say ‘menstruation’! Use actual words! All of you boys, shut it right now.”
They did. Eyes wide.
“Listen,” I said. “There is nothing gross about having a period; it’s why every one of you was born, so get over it. This is wilderness ethics, we’re not going into the entire process of the thickening of uterine lining and how it is expelled, but I’d suggest you all go read a few pages of a biology book or ask your parents to give you the lowdown. And boys, figure out your squeamish little insecurities before you come back to this class. That goes for you especially, Natan.”
He shook his head at me from his tree stump altar. “Muiriel,” he clucked. “Let’s try some harmony. We are all brothers and sisters here.”
“Natan,” Sean said. “We get it. We wrap and pack out sanitary products just like any other tissue or trash. Move on dot org.”
Thank you, I mouthed to him.
And he winked at me and then I died.
“Young ladies,” Natan said. “If I may speak frankly, you might take a more selfless tack. I suggest you refrain from exploring the wilderness altogether during your special time. Blood attracts predators such as bears and mountain lions. No need to put the rest of us in danger.”
My head whipped around to Sean, who was already on his feet.
In thirty seconds Sean had Natan’s arm in a firm hold, leading him to Jane’s office, and I had vehemently debunked the bears-and-blood bullshit for the kids, who seemed to understand and be properly creeped out by Natan in the first place, which helped.
“What about sharks?” a small girl asked. “Can I swim in the ocean if there’s blood?”
“Yes,” I said. “Of course you can. Bears and sharks are not out to get you; don’t ever be afraid to explore the world. People, please listen: If any adult ever tells you that you can’t do something because you’re a girl, or because you’re a boy, or because you’re having a normal bodily function—always be suspicious. Because they are lying. Trust yourself. Find the truth. And remember to pack your poop out of the forest.”
They laughed. They were smart. They got it.
When the kids had packed up and the buses were gone, I joined Sean in Jane’s office, Natan nowhere to be seen.
“I’m sick of running interference with him,” I said to her. “He lies to the kids, and he’s inappropriate in all kinds of ways….”
“Document it,” she sighed. “Write everything down. I’ve spoken to him; he’s promised to try harder. Okay?”
“But—”
“I appreciate your concern, Muir, I do, and I’m handling it. Okay?”
Not angry, she seemed more…resigned?
Like Kira.
“Okay,” I said. I walked with Sean to a granite boulder tucked into the trees, and we sat together to drink water, eat trail mix, and spy.
“Something is up,” Sean said. “Jane is too smart for his shit.”
“It’s like he has something…” And then there he was. Natan walked from the parking lot straight to Jane’s office. “Over her?”
“Come on,” Sean whispered, took my hand, and we ran, crouching low, to hide beneath the open office window.
Even in the spy excitement I was preoccupied with his hand holding mine.
Get yourself together! Come on!
Jane’s voice was hushed, but aggravated. “These are children. There are specific ways to interact with them. Boundaries, Natan. I need you to run everything by me before your next class, and do not go off script.”
“But—”
“If schools stop sending kids for classes, we can’t stay open.”
“I didn’t say anything wrong! Who said I did?”
“Natan,” she hissed. Sean’s eyebrows shot up. We’d never heard that tone from Jane. “No more. Please don’t pretend this is the first complaint I’ve gotten; I can’t keep defending you. I love my brother, I love you, but I’m not willing to lose my job because my nephew refuses to interact appropriately with little kids who just want to learn about nature.”
“But a woman’s menses is nature—”
“Natan!” Full voice. She sounded exhausted. “Go home. Please.”
A silent pause.
“Honey,” Jane said, her tone softened. “Natan, please don’t cry.”
Oh my God, I mouthed. Sean shook his head in disbelief.
“I don’t feel safe right now,” Natan sniffed. “I feel like you’re threatening me. This isn’t how family treats each other.”
Safe? A-plus manipulation. Yikes.
“Oh, sweetie,” Jane said. “Of course we’re family, you matter more than anything. I promised your dad I’d help you graduate, and I will. I am. But I need you to help yourself; I need you to try. Okay? Please.”
“I am trying!” he wailed. “I am exploring my options for true happiness in life, and I’m real sorry it’s taking too long and inconveniencing everyone so much.”
“Honey, I know he’s hard on you, and I understand you’re still…exploring. But don’t you want to have a job one day? Move out of your dad’s house, have your own place, live an independent life?”
“Dude is like thirty-two years old,” Sean whispered near my ear.
“Sure,” Natan practically spit. “As soon as you get an independent life and stop borrowing money from my dad.”
A chair scraped the floor. We bolted and watched from the trees until Natan was safely gone, and then Sean walked me all the way to Francine’s.
“I mean…,” he began. “I feel dirty.”
“Me too.” I sighed. “And I think we’re stuck with him.”
“Family,” Sean said. Then he took my hand again and pu
lled me to him, hugged me right there on the side of the road. “Not all of them are,” he said, “but that’s a super fucked-up one.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I feel like I can say, with some authority as an observer, that this one is of a pretty common variety.”
“That’s depressing. And you do have the authority.”
“What would your dad have said about that whole…situation?” I asked.
“Plenty. None of it real considerate of Natan’s delicate sensibilities.”
“What about your mom?”
He smiled. “She’d be pissed at the brother. And Jane. She’d say they made him who he is and now they don’t get to be pissed he’s a grown man living at home ‘searching for his happiness.’ My parents would give me a tent and send me to forage in the woods alone rather than have me in Natan’s situation.”
“Learned helplessness,” I sighed. We walked until we reached Francine’s road. “Your mom sounds like my kind of person.”
“You’re definitely hers.” He looked down the road to Francine’s house.
“Want to come in?” I saw her car was gone. “Except wait, she’s not home.”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“Not a good idea,” I said.
He kissed me. “We’ll figure out Natan. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“See you Monday?”
“Monday.”
* * *
—
Sunday afternoon at the Island Thrift Shop was the happening place—for moms and bored, tantruming kids after church.
“You sure you don’t want to go to a regular store?” Kira asked, pushing aside hangers on the “Ladies’ Blouses” rack with more force than necessary. “Don’t get me wrong, I love a good thrift shop find, but if we’re revamping your whole wardrobe, I gotta tell you: this island has a big retired people population and they do a lot of the donating….It’s going to be mostly ‘active adult senior’ style.”
“Not everything.”
She held up a coral-hued turtleneck shirt.
“Okay, not a winner, but keep looking. There will be gems in here, I’m telling you.”
“Lot of jewel tones, for sure,” she sighed, and pulled out a deep royal-blue silk blouse with an attached neck bow. “Come on, man.”
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