Page 73 of Falling Slowly
By the time I’d climbed out of the hammock, he’d made me a cup, handing it over with a flourish.
“That was fast.” I sat next to him, at the far end of the wonky log that sat so close to the ground my knees were up against my chin.
“I had boiling water ready to go.” He gestured at a small kettle next to his feet.
“You packed a kettle for a two-hour hike?”
“I heard the hunting cabin had a fire pit and I need it for making coffee, so…”
“What else did you bring? Continental breakfast?” I cast him a hopeful look.
“Sorry. I only have those muesli bars we didn’t eat last night.”
“I was hoping you were rationing things.” As if on cue, my stomach growled.
“I went through my whole backpack in case there were any forgotten treasures. And I found… drum roll, please.”
I rapped my hands against my knees, turning it into a vigorous rub to keep them warm. With a cheeky grin, Charlie stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a half-eaten Snickers bar, presenting it to me like a gift from the gods.
“What kind of maniac eats half a Snickers bar?” I stared at the leftover chocolate, then at him. “Explain yourself.”
He shrugged. “I guess I forgot to finish it.”
“What happened? Earthquake? Bear? The only time I don’t finish a chocolate is when Celia steals it from me. Or rather, she reminds me that sharing is caring.”
“Teaching kids to share can really backfire.” He pulled a silly face.
I nodded. “It really can.” Unable to wait any longer, I unwrapped the chocolate bar and tucked into it. “Oh, my God, it’s the bigger half!”
“Sharing is caring.” He cast me a comically pleading look, his lower lip protruded.
“You already ate half of this,” I argued, but broke off half, carefully catching any crumbs on my palm.
Charlie hesitated a moment but took the chocolate and ate it in one piece as I worked through mine bit by bit, washing it down with the surprisingly strong coffee. When the chocolate was finished, Charlie presented me with the muesli bars. It wasn’t exactly the breakfast of champions, but the quick caffeine hit evened out the effect of poor sleep and stiff muscles, making the prospect of venturing back on the path feel possible.
“Any messages on your phone?” I asked.
“One from Gran. She told your mom and they’re on their way.”
“On their way where?”
“Cozy Creek and Rubie Ridge I suppose.”
“Oh, shit.” Mom didn’t even have a car. She currently spent so much on keeping mine on the road she couldn’t afford her own. “We need to get back. They must be worried sick.”
“We can’t be that far. Let’s follow the creek down the hill.”
We extinguished the fire, and I helped Charlie pack up the hammock. Having abandoned the leaf-collecting and my shoebox, my bag was essentially empty, so I offered to take some of Charlie’s items. Once we had everything on our backs, we exchanged a meaningful look and headed to the creek.
“I hope you’re right, because this is not the easiest path to walk,” I said, picking my feet across the terrain.
Rocks and tufts of long grass dotted the creek banks. There was no path at all, only the small stream that took twists and turns as we followed it down the gentle slope. Soon, the stream split into two smaller ones. We picked the stronger one and continued, dodging trees and shrubs and occasionally climbing over larger rocks. Inside the forest, our visibility was limited to a few yards ahead. The cold humidity of the shade settled on my skin, making the air feel cooler. When we finally emerged from the woods, we found the sun had climbed higher and I relished its warmth on my face.
The open plain also offered us with a view, albeit not one I recognized. The mountains rose ahead of us, but the stream seemed to curve to the left, running down towards a dip between hilltops. Soon, the terrain turned steeper and the stream turned into a mini waterfall, gushing and gurgling down the rocks. I could see all the way to the bottom where the ground flattened out again, but there was no easy way down.
Charlie grabbed my arm, holding me back like he thought I might fall. “We’ll have to climb down. I’ll go first.”
He released my arm and began edging down the rocky surface, holding onto a young tree for support. Once he made it to the next tree, I took a deep breath and followed, making sure to trace the exact path he was mapping out below. But he was a lot taller, with longer legs.
