Page 56 of Falling Slowly
“Oh, thank God.”
Bess traipsed ahead of me at an impressive speed. I had to take the occasional running step to stay at her heels. “Why are we running?” I asked when we’d overtaken the other ladies and were leading the pack.
She whipped her head around, flabbergasted. “What? I’m not running. I’m walking.”
“I beg to differ.”
“This is my natural pace.” She resumed her half-flying walk, hurdling protruding roots and shrubbery like it was an obstacle course and someone was timing her.
I took a deep breath and tried to adjust my stride to match her speed. “It’s like we’re running away from predators.”
“I live in a scary neighborhood. If you amble, people think you’re looking for someone to hook you up.”
“With what?”
She threw a telling look over her shoulder. “Anything.”
“Okay, I get it. But since nobody is chasing us with drugs, religious tracts or fake Rolexes, can we slow down a bit? So, we don’t miss the scenery. Weren’t you supposed to collect leaves?”
She stopped so abruptly I crashed into her back. “Sorry.” I retreated a step, and she turned around.
“You’re right. I should get that box out of my bag.” She took off her backpack and negotiated the shoebox into her hands, then turned to continue.
The rocky, grassy plain turned into an evergreen forest that closed out most of the sunlight, only letting the occasional beam of light through. The air felt cooler and more humid, the soundscape more intense. With no autumn leaves, we walked insilence for a while. After initially slowing down a smidge, Bess was back to her original speed.
If the distance to the cabin took Leonie twenty minutes, we’d be done in five. But she may have not been using her own pace as the measuring stick, since the path continued for several minutes with no hunting cabin in sight.
Instead, we came to a roadblock. A fallen spruce tree lay across the path like an impenetrable wall of needles.
“Shit!” Bess hopped around, looking for a way through. “We’ll have to go around,” she finally concluded, pointing at the thick shrubbery. “Heads or tails?”
I followed her gaze, taking in the roots sticking up at one end, and the top of the huge tree, somewhere further along. At both ends, the ground was covered in thick shrubbery of bushes and tree saplings. “Can’t we just wait for the others? They might cancel the hike when they see this.”
But Bess was already wading through the waist-high growth towards the roots, using the shoebox to shield her eyes from the occasional higher branch.
“I can see the path,” she called, her voice filled with excitement. “It’s not far. We just have to get through here, duck under these…” she lowered her head to avoid a root and disappeared out of view. “It’s here, Charlie! There must be a tight bend in that path right after the tree.”
I sighed and followed her. I almost had to get on my hands and knees to make it through, but she was right. The path seemed to continue on the other side.
“I told you!” She grinned as I brushed needles off my jacket.
“So, you did. Do you think the others are able to follow us?”
She tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, what if they don’t? We can check out the cabin and the view and come back, right?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
Bess sprinted down the path, an actual skip in her step. I had to admit, I didn’t hate the idea of losing the rest of the group. I quite liked it.
After a moment, we emerged from the forest and the path turned narrower, almost disappearing into the long grass. I saw a hilltop rising behind a stretch of trees, the likely location of the cabin. Soon, we were under the aspens again, drinking in the yellow.
“It’s magical,” Bess gushed, finally slowing her pace. She even stopped to take photos and gather some leaves, gently placing them into her box.
We continued walking through the forest until the path came to a fork. Bess cast me a confused look. “Didn’t she say we just follow this path to the cabin?”
“Maybe she didn’t remember this part. Do you want to turn back?”
“It’s probably this one, though,” she argued, pointing at the slightly wider path leading up. “That other one looks like a dead end. I’ll check.” She ran down the smaller path and soon called to me. “Yeah, this gets tinier. I don’t think it’s this one.”
