Page 34 of Rescue
“I didn’t tell her what we were going to do that day. I wanted it to be a surprise. I woke her up early that morning and told her I had a secret and to get ready. It was our 5-year anniversary and I had finally decided to bring her up to my new place. I remember how excited I was to show her that part of the mountain. It’s so special up there knowing you’re the only person around for miles and miles, surrounded by the snow and trees and whistling of the wind.” I stare straight ahead, my eyes unseeing, flashes of that day running through my mind on loop.
“I worked hard to plan out everything we would need. I had my mom make some of her special homemade soup and hot chocolate so that we had food for the day. I checked out the best snowmobile the store had and prepped two packs with all the equipment we’d need for the day. Even though we got an early start, it still took a while to get out to the backcountry. I knew it was dangerous, but I had been doing it for years and had always stayed safe. I was confident that I could handle anything that was thrown at us.”
“The snowmobile only took us part of the way, then we hiked for about an hour, but once we got there it was totally worth it. Not a soul but us as far as the eye could see. Miles of untouched snow stretched out in front of us and it was on. We skied the whole day away. Caroline was perfect out there. She never once complained about the cold or the constant wind whipping in her face the way most girls would. I knew that she had to be the perfect partner for me if she could get out there and match my energy.”
I take a deep breath and pause for a minute to gather my thoughts. Most people think they know what happened next, but no one knows all the details. “We spent the whole day skiing, only stopping to eat the food my mom made us. She was exhilarated and in her element. I can still see her huge smile and her chapped cheeks even now.” I smile a little in spite of what I know is coming. She was a sight that day, like an angel, radiating happiness.
“It was nearing the end of the day and we both wanted to go for one more run before we made the hike back to the snowmobile. We had a long hike ahead of us so we needed to get going. I finished before her and stopped towards the bottom to wait on her. As I pulled my gear off to take a breather, I looked up and saw it. I’ve heard about them my whole life, it’s just part of the risks of skiing, especially out there in the back country. The trails aren’t as controlled or packed as well, and it takes a lot longer for help to get to you out there, if they can get to you at all.” My heart starts pounding and my breathing accelerates as though I’m back there in the snow, watching it all happen again.
“I knew from the minute I assessed what I was seeing that she wasn’t going to make it to me in time. Before I could even warn her, the avalanche was on her. I couldn’t get to her, P, she was too far away. I turned and almost made it to the tree line before it grabbed me and pulled me under.” I notice tears slipping silently down Penny’s face, and want to stop and comfort her, but I forge ahead, knowing I need to get this all out in the open.
“They found me pretty quickly, all things considered. I had remembered to turn my beacon on before we left so they could find us, but something happened with hers. I know I checked it before we went out, but they never got a signal from it. Maybe the battery went dead, or maybe I didn’t actually turn it on when I thought I did. I’ll never know. It took them hours to find her, and when they finally did, it was too late. The coroner said that her injuries would have been enough to kill her, but I’ll never forgive myself for being so careless. I should have known better. I should have spotted that the conditions were just right for an avalanche. I should have checked her beacon again.”
It’s not until I stop to take a breath that I realize I’m crying, too. I wipe my face and collect my thoughts, trying to figure out what to say next.
“I was in the hospital for a while. I needed a full reconstruction of my knee and broke my leg in three places. I had hypothermia and frostbite from removing my glove. My pain was nothing compared to what her family went through.”
I wish that’s where the story ended, that I could be done with my confession, but there’s more. I’ve never told this part of the story to anyone. “I was in the hospital for a while, and then when I got out, Mom and Dad brought me to their house to recover and get back on my feet. I probably didn’t go back to the house I shared with Caroline for 6 months, maybe more. It just felt too painful, ya know?” I look at her hoping she gets it. She just looks up at me patiently and gives my hand another encouraging squeeze.
“I didn’t want to get rid of her stuff, but it was so hard seeing it all there, day after day. Pictures of us were everywhere and even though my mom had changed the sheets before I moved back in, I swear I could still smell her there, too. Little reminders, all day, everywhere I looked, that I failed her. That I was an awful partner. So, slowly, I started packing up her things. Just a little here and there. One weekend it was her clothes, the next it was her books and pictures.
“It wasn’t until I was nearly done that I found it, about a year after she’d been gone. I’d saved her jewelry box for last. It had sat on our dresser for the whole time we’d been together and I never once looked in it. It always felt wrong. I know it’s silly, but it had always seemed private and I felt like I’d be intruding on her space or something.
“One evening I got good and drunk. As I was coming into the bedroom I stumbled against the dresser and jostled the box which caught my eye. The liquid courage worked its charm and I opened up the box, thinking that maybe after all this time I was ready to pack it up. I went through it to see if there was anything her family might want from there. I hadn’t really talked to them much, but I knew they’d want any keepsakes she had saved over the years.
“When I opened it, all her jewelry was neatly organized in each little compartment and row, everything in its place, just like she was in life. That was so like her to keep everything tidy. As I looked through the pieces, I played through all the memories I had with her wearing them. I started to cry and the box slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor. The noise startled me out of my misery and when I looked down, I realized the box had another layer. The top piece had slipped a little allowing me to see into a hidden compartment.
“I picked it back up to look inside and I saw an envelope with my name on it. She must have hidden it in here before our anniversary. Inside she had written a heartfelt note about how happy she was and how she couldn’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together. I was so careless with her life and the last thoughts she wrote to me were of how much she loved me. I fell apart at the beautiful words.
It felt like I had lost her all over again, but somehow, I thought I was going to be ok with that. I knew that she loved me and what we had was real, but maybe now I could move on. I was ready to turn over a new leaf when I looked back down to finish going through the jewelry box. The first thing my eyes caught on was a long white stick. It took me a second to realize it was a pregnancy test, and when I looked closer, I could see that it was positive.”
