Page 58 of Falling Slowly
“Because I like money. I like security. I know I’d be far more stressed without it.”
“But… you can’t be both. You can’t play the game and criticize the game. That’s cognitive dissonance, right?”
He looked a bit wary, yet gracious. “Come on, Bess. Human beings are walking contradictions. You know that.”
I considered this, letting my shoulders drop. “I guess we are.” If I was ever offered that money, that security, I knew I’d take it. Very few people chose to be poor to prove a point.
I trailed back to the path, continuing up towards a rocky hill. The air smelled damp and crisp and earthy, with a hint of impending snow. “Can I hear more songs by him? Are they all like that?”
I put the earphones back on and Charlie fed me another song—one that sounded very different. I recognized the artist’s voice, but the message was more personal. Not about money, but pain.
The music pulled me into its orbit so completely that I felt like my feet lifted off the path, carrying me over the landscape. Song by song, I felt more alive than I had in a long time. So alive that I missed something important.
“Shit! How long has it been?” I stopped so suddenly that Charlie bumped into my back again, pushing me off balance.
He reached an arm around my waist to right me. “What?” he asked, removing his earphones.
“The cabin! Shouldn’t we be there by now?”
“Yeah… Sorry, I lost track of time.” He found his phone. “We left around four and it’s… almost five?” He stared at the phone screen; eyes wide.
“Wait, what? Are we even on the right path?” I squeaked.
“Does it matter? The others probably turned around at the fallen tree, so whichever path we’re on, we’ll eventually turn around and go back the same way.”
My heartbeat settled back to double digits. “Yeah, okay. Should we turn around now? What time does it get dark?”
“Um… I’m not sure. We can turn back if you want to. But I bet if we climb that next hill, the views are going to be amazing.” He pointed at the slope ahead of us.
Turning back would have been the sensible thing to do, but part of me wanted to keep walking. For once, I wasn’t going to be Buzzkill. “As long as we get back before dark.” I turned around, powering up the hill.
The steep climb made my legs ache, but we were rewarded at the top.
Alpenglow.
I’d seen a glimpse of the red, glowing mountains when first arriving in Cozy Creek, but this was on a whole other level.The mountain ranges stretched in front of us like a giant fiery panorama, framed by layers of yellows, rusty reds, and dark greens below.
“Worth it,” I announced, removing my earphones mid-song as Charlie reached my side.
“Impressive.” He managed between gasps of breath. “And I mean your speed. The view is okay, too.”
I’d heard the odd comment about my walking speed before, but hadn’t thought about it for a long time. I had a child with only two settings—fast run and sitting on the ground, whining. When she tore off down the road, I usually had to abandon walking and sprint after her. The rest of the time, I was rushing somewhere, late.
“Sorry. I’ll let you catch your breath,” I said, throwing him a smile.
“Don’t apologize. I’m pretty sure this is good for me. Anything that hurts this much has to be, right?”
He caught my eye and held my gaze for far longer than I was comfortable with. Long enough to make it clear it wasn’t the physical pain he was talking about. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. The magic of nature in all its festive colors, the crisp air and the absolute privacy of the wilderness had arrested my senses, along with my words.
“Can we fake-date for two minutes?” he asked. “Just in case you one day give in and decide to accept my offer… Then we’ll have this memory of holding each other on top of a hill, looking at this perfect scenery. And if we focus on that moment, it’ll be like a real memory of us, together. One perfect moment.”
“But we’ll know it’s fake,” I argued, even if part of me wanted to run with his warped logic.
His voice was quiet, struggling to emerge from his throat. “It’s not fake for me, Bess.”
“One perfect moment,” I repeated, spellbound, dropping my arms to my sides. “Okay.” I could give him this.
I could give it to myself.
