Page 33 of Worth the Want
I think about it for a minute. “For a little bit. My mom wasn’t a big fan of the smell.”
“I hadn’t thought about that part of it. I’m imagining mini pigs that fit in your purse,” she muses.
“Think more like a baby elephant that would eat you if you gave it the chance.”
She laughs. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Those pigs were mean as fuck.” Her laughter grows, her eyes going squinty.
“What else? What other animals?” she demands.
“Goats, cattle, horses, cats, llamas, chickens…Florence had a duck for a bit.” I list all the animals I can think of. When she doesn’t respond, I look over to find her mouth open.
“You had all those pets, and I couldn’t even convince my parents to let me have one teeny tiny goldfish? Although that didn’t stop us from trying—” She proceeds to tell me about stealing a neighbor's cat and keeping it hidden until her parentsfound it. The way she speaks is so animated, arms slicing through the air, hand gestures to emphasize everything she’s saying. For someone so small, she makes sure to take up space when she’s talking. “So from then on, we started collecting things,” she finishes.
I start walking toward the trailhead, Sally trotting in front of me and Indie falling in step right behind me. “So, what did you collect?” I ask.
“What didn’t we collect? We started with rocks, but Han liked every single rock she laid eyes on, and our apartment was overflowing with them. After the rocks, we started pressing flowers. I still do that every spring, and I cannot wait to catalog the wildflowers in Colorado. We had so much fun collecting things that my parents started doing it. Mom has a small army of ceramic frogs, and my dad started finding and repairing German cuckoo clocks.”
“Cuckoo clocks?”
“Yes.” She chuckles.
“Like with the bird that comes out of the door and loudly squawks?”
She giggles. “That isn’t how I would describe them exactly—but more or less, yes. My dad would repair them, and sometimes he would let Han and me paint some of the pieces.”
“Sounds like you’re really close with your family.”
She doesn’t answer right away. I look over my shoulder and see her looking down at her feet as we hike. I barely hear her response.
“Not as much lately, but there’s a lot of love there.” I just hum in acknowledgment. I’m not usually one to pry, but asking her why is on the tip of my tongue when she speaks again. “I guess I should have asked, but how long is this hike we’re ontoday?” she asks, effectively changing the subject. She’s good at this evasiveness.
“It’s only a three-and-a-half-mile loop. The trail you ran yesterday would have been more challenging, but this one has some bouldering routes on it that I like to climb.”
“Rock climbing?” she asks.
“Yeah, have you ever been?”
“Not really. I’ve never been climbing outside, but I did have a pass to my indoor climbing gym in Atlanta.” That surprises me. It doesn’t exactly fit in with the picture I’ve drawn of her life in my mind.
“Do you boulder?” I ask her.
I hear a huffed-out laugh. “Not well. I’m more of a sport climber. I am belay and lead climb certified though. At least that’s what the little tag on my harness says.”
“Impressive; if you like climbing, then you’ve come to the right state,” I tell her as we continue through the forest. The sun is out, and the day is warming up. It’s quiet out here, only the sound of our boots and Sally’s happy panting.
“I do enjoy climbing. I’d really like to start doing it outside. Do you have any recommendations on where I should start?” I wonder if she’s fishing again, wanting me to ask her to come with me sometime.
“Yeah, there are a few places to boulder. If you’re looking to sport climb, then you’ll need a partner,” I tell her.Now who’s fishing?
“If you want to come with me, you can just ask, Knox.” I’m glad she’s behind me so she can’t see the grin on my face. Now that she’s put the thought in my head though? I really wouldn’t mind having her on the other end of a rope.
“Oh wow,” I hear her breathe out behind me. Turningaround, I find her staring behind us into the valley we’ve just hiked out of. I like that she’s taken the time to take in the view. Sometimes I’m too focused on the destination.
“It’s so beautiful out here. Just—everywhere. Even the gas station on my way into town was pretty,” she muses.
“It is. Just wait until you see where we’re going.” She spins back to me at that.
