Page 58 of Peak Suspicion
“I was a dorky kid. Now I’m a dorky grown-up who makes a living driving people around the mountains in a Jeep.”
Silence. Clearly, he was doing a bang-up job so far. He waited, searching for something else to say. How long could he stand here, doing nothing, before the boy got bored and went ahead and jumped?
“Do you like the job?” the kid asked.
“I do. I like people.”
“I don’t like people. Maybe because they don’t like me.”
“There are people I don’t like,” he said. “Everybody is different. That’s a good thing, though. I’d be bored if everybody were alike.”
“My parents don’t even like me. They kicked me out.”
“That’s rough. You seem like an okay guy to me. What’s your name?”
“Craig. My parents said I was messy and I broke curfew too many times. And the teachers are always after me when I don’t do my homework. Some of it’s so stupid.”
Carter remained silent while the boy reviewed a long list of hurts and slights. He reminded himself he wasn’t here to judge, only to listen. And he wasn’t so far from his own teen years that he couldn’t sympathize. Sometimes at that age he had felt that the world was against him, too. And he had a loving family and every advantage this boy didn’t have.
“The worst thing is, I don’t have any friends,” Craig said and fell silent.
“That’s hard, too,” Carter said. “People are so involved in themselves sometimes it’s hard to connect with others. We don’t really see the other people around us. It’s hard enough to even get a clear picture of ourselves. I’m not sure we ever do.”
“When I look at myself I see a loser.” Shuffling sounds on metal. Was Craig moving closer to the edge?
Carter leaned farther over the railing, trying to keep the boy in his sights. “You need a new mirror,” he said. “Have you done much climbing?”
“Not really.”
“Yet with no experience, you climbed down there?”
“It wasn’t hard.”
“Maybe not for you. We could use someone with your talent in search and rescue.”
“Don’t you have to be eighteen?”
“Yeah, but you can start training now. By the time you’re eighteen you’ll be a veteran.”
“It sounds hard.”
“You’ve already done hard things.”
“I don’t know. You have to help strangers. People who have done things to get themselves in trouble.”
“That’s every one of us. We all make the wrong choices sometimes. Doesn’t mean we aren’t still good people.”
“It’s easy for you to talk. You’re an adult with a job and friends and a good life.”
“Looks that way to you. To other people it looks like I’m a guy who didn’t go to college, who’s working for my parents and living with my brother. I don’t have it all together. Most people don’t.”
“You’re not making me feel good about everything I have to look forward to.” Was that amusement Carter heard behind those words?
“I’m not saying I’m a shining example or anything,” Carter said. “But there’s all kinds of ways to be a success. On the surface, my life doesn’t look like much, but mostly, I’m happy.”
“I can’t remember what it’s like to be happy.”
“There are people who can help with that. Medications. Therapy. Depression is a real thing. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
