Page 25 of The Ripple Effect

A year from now, I don’t want to look at our texts and realize I’m initiating all the conversations.

It’s better if we understand exactly what we have to offer each other and for how long. It can be like a one-night stand: she wants forgiveness or whatever; I need a celebrity jump start for the Love Boat. We can part ways once our conditions are satisfied.

“Who’s in the tent next door?” Dereck asks, ducking through the flap.

“In the Sky Dome? Our guests had a last-minute scheduling conflict and won’t be here.” Goodbye to Renee’s team, hello to my new secret bedroom. Chores mean McHuge and I get upfirst and go to bed last. No one will know if I bunk in there for a night or six.

“Would you mind if I use it? Sloane and I prefer to stretch out.”

My fantasy of curling up safely alone wafts away, replaced with a sleeping bag barely an arm’s reach from McHuge.

“It’s fine if that’s not possible,” Sloane says, her eyes flicking to Dereck. He flashes a frighteningly white smile but doesn’t quite meet her gaze.

“We want you to be comfortable. I’ll bring your bags to Sky Dome right away.”

Outside, I turn back. Sloane looks at me as if I might’ve changed my mind about sisterhood. Not likely.

“Don’t forget to keep the door closed. You’ll spend hours chasing mosquitoes if you don’t.”

The silver zipper neatly seals the barrier between us.

Next session, we need to shorten the time between arrival and orientation. Thirty minutes turns out to be long enough for nearly half of our clientele to pull me aside.

Mitch says Lori can be forgetful—do we have spare sunglasses and water bottles, in case her wife’s go missing? Meanwhile, Mitch’s diabetes has caused nerve damage in her feet, says Lori; I need to watch her when we’re portaging.

Lori strikes me as someone who’s never been embarrassed about bodies—hers, or anyone else’s. I get the strong impression that before this trip is over, she’ll have spontaneously shown me her entire butt for some quasi-medical reason.

I don’t laugh when Brent jokes that doctors are bad for his blood pressure.

When everyone’s seated at the firepit, the Love Boat’smultifunctional hub for socializing, briefings, and group therapy, McHuge claps his hands.

“Now that we’re all here, quick reminder of the nondisclosure agreement covering course materials and privacy. Without safety, no one will be comfortable sharing during the debrief. Likewise, we ask that no one takes photographs during paddling. We don’t want the focus to shift from how you feel in the moment to how you’ll look in an image that lasts forever.”

Brent obtrusively nudges Willow, who looks sadly at the waterproof camera bag at her feet. She brightens when McHuge says photos are fine in camp as long as the subjects consent.

“Let’s introduce ourselves. We’ll have lots of time to grow into besties, so keep it to name and hometown.” McHuge gestures to Willow on his left.

She’s got a sweet smile to go with her wavy brown hair and soft face. “I’m Willow. Brent and I live in a suburb of Chicago, but I was born in Stockholm.”

Before the murmur of interest has died down, Brent fluffs the thinning top of his salt-and-pepper hair and launches his own intro. “Brent Torquay, senior writer forBeeswaxmagazine. I’ve been stationed in New York, Tokyo, and London, among other places.”

Silence follows Brent’s recitation of his résumé, but he’s set the tone.

Mitch coolly discloses that she’s the vice president of internal communications at Vancouver International Bank; Lori grins and says she’s retired. Petra and Trevor are both grad students in Boston. Sloane says she’s in the “entertainment industry” in LA, prompting another round of stares and whispers. Dereck proclaims he’s an actor, then looks disappointed when no one asks any follow-up questions.

McHuge pulls a stack of shiny cards from his pocket andhands them to Dereck. “We’ll go over the curriculum, but here’s a quick-reference for day-to-day. Take one and pass them on.”

The cards are basic black print on white stock, the design spare and fancy like a spa menu. I scan the first side.

DAILY SCHEDULE

7:30: Hot water delivery to tents

8:00: Breakfast (Pavilion)

9:00: Morning yoga/meditation (Pavilion)

10:15: Bell rings—meet at the clearing dressed to paddle

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