Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

  I needed to think. I needed a game plan. In order to win a car, AP made us find our way back to Calgary without one. The irony was delicious and incredibly frustrating. A HOOtoque walked beside me, but I ignored her. By the time I found the main road the sun was nearly down. I stood on the shoulder for a minute, deciding which way to go. Right was Calgary, left was Lake Louise. If my plan was to walk, I should get started right away. Unless . . . unless I found a bike. Or a skateboard, or Rollerblades, or a horse. A bike seemed most likely. I turned left. I couldn’t spend any money, but I could borrow a bicycle. I hoped.

  It took me a good hour to reach the town. I don’t know for sure because I don’t have a watch and I didn’t want to ask the HOOtoque. I don’t know if asking for the time means asking for assistance, and I don’t want to take my chances.

  I ended up at a small diner just as I was about to fall over with exhaustion and hunger. I’d already gone through half my granola bar stash. I spent only a couple minutes there, drinking water and discreetly tucking peanut butter packages into my pocket. I’d already taken advantage of the bathroom and changed into dry clothes. I watched intently as a googly-eyed couple pushed their half-eaten meal away from them and waved for the bill. I asked them if I could have their remnants. They looked at my messy hair and muddy backpack and the HOOtoque behind me with raised eyebrows but kindly gave up their plates. I inhaled the food. It’s too late for me to feel shame now. If not, it will be soon.

  I needed to find a bike. The sun was down and soon the town would be empty. I asked the waitress if she knew of any bikes I could borrow, but she said no and asked me to leave.

  My shoulders cried as I strapped on my backpack, but I told them to shut up and headed outside, where two HOOtoques were waiting to switch with the first.

  Lake Louise is small and full of tourists, so I bet there was a bike rental store around. I found one on the other side of town, three blocks away. I could see they were just about to close as I walked in.

  EMPLOYEE

  I’m sorry, but we’re closing. Unless you know exactly what you’re looking for, could you come back tomorrow?

  JS

  Actually, I’m looking to rent a bike.

  The employee looked at the dark sky outside the window.

  EMPLOYEE

  Now?

  JS

  Yeah. My name is Jane Sinner—​I’m part of a reality show called House of Orange.

  I nodded to the HOOtoque holding a camera behind me.

  JS

  Maybe you’ve heard of it.

  EMPLOYEE

  No.

  JS

  Well. As our final challenge, we have to make our way back to Calgary without using cars.

  EMPLOYEE

  Hmm.

  JS

  I’m not allowed to give you any money now, but I can pay you later—​

  The HOOtoque coughed loudly and gave me a look.

  JS

  I can’t pay you now or later, but my producer will reimburse you in a day or two.

  EMPLOYEE

  I’m sorry, but I can’t rent you a bike with no money.

  JS

  But your store would be featured on television . . .

  EMPLOYEE

  I don’t much care for reality TV.

  JS

  But . . . exposure . . .

  EMPLOYEE

  Sorry, kid, I can’t help you out on this one.

  JS

  (Sigh.)

  Thanks anyway.

  Outside, the town was dead. I’d wasted too much time at the diner—​I should have started looking sooner. I sat down on the curb, thinking. I wondered how much closer I’d be to Calgary by now if I had just kept walking. Probably I’d be dead—​exhaustion or cars or wildlife would have gotten to me. No. I couldn’t think like this. I had to think like a winner. Like a champion. At the very least, like a logical person. Where could I find a bunch of people right now who would be willing to lend a stranger a bike?

  A bar, of course.

  I’d seen one next to a cheap motel on my way into town. I stood up, swung my backpack onto my aching shoulders, and started walking.

  The bar was relatively quiet but not empty. I paused after walking through the door, taking in my options. After a minute, people noticed the HOOtoques and stared. I didn’t know what to do, besides feel like an idiot. My cheeks burned while I told my mind to think faster. It was obvious what to do when I realized I had the entire room’s attention. I cleared my throat and inhaled as deeply as I could, leaving no room for butterflies to flit around my rib cage.

  JS

  Excuse me? Hi. My name is Jane Sinner.

  BAR

  JS

  I’m part of a reality show called House of Orange. Does anyone know it?

  BAR

  JS

  (Does no one appreciate good television these days?!)

  As part of our final challenge, I have to make my way back to Calgary without using motorized vehicles. So I need a bike.

  Everyone continued to stare, but no one moved. It was a bit creepy. I wondered if my voice was loud enough.

  JS

  The thing is, I can’t spend any money. So I’d need to borrow it. Does anyone have a bike they could lend me for a day or two? I promise I’ll return it.

  BAR

  JS

  This will be televised, so thousands of people will see this and hold me accountable.

  BAR

  JS

  Please? If you help, you’ll be on TV. I’ll make you cookies after or something.

  I was desperate and my face was on fire. I hated being at the mercy of strangers, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know what else to say. Unless—​I still had the DSLR that AP had given me. I think his words were “use it as you wish.”

  JS

  I can trade you for a DSLR.

  BAR

  Shit.

  I figured I might as well use the washroom before leaving. I made my way to the back of the bar, humiliated and wretched and on the edge of a very dark mood, but I forced myself to make eye contact with as many people as I could. Maybe someone would take pity on me. Or at least feel ashamed of being cold-hearted. A tall guy in a black shirt walked in front of me.

  TALL GUY

  Excuse me, but do you have a permit to film in here?

  I looked at the HOOtoques. They shook their heads.

  JS

  No.

  TALL GUY

  I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

  JS

  All right.

  I turned around and walked out. Standing on the sidewalk with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other was a girl. Wearing the shirt with the graphic of my face on it. I almost cried with joy.

  JS

  Excuse me! Hi! Do you watch House of Orange?

  The girl looked up and her mouth dropped open.

  GIRL

  Oh my god, are you . . . are you . . .

  JS

  Jane Sinner. Yeah.

  The girl looked at her friends, at the HOOtoques, back to me.

  GIRL

  Oh my god! I love your show! What are you doing here?

  I explained to her what the final challenge was, and how desperate I was to find a bike. I asked her if there was any way she could help.

  GIRL

  I don’t know. I don’t live here, I’m visiting my cousin. She might have a bike though. I can ask her. Oh my god, this is so exciting!

  JS

  Yes, it is.

  While the girl called her cousin, one of her friends asked me for my autograph. I signed her phone cover with a pen.

  GIRL

  Jane! She has a mountain bike and she’ll let you use it!!

  JS

  Oh my god! Thank you so much!

  GIRL

  She lives pretty close to here; we can leave now if you want.

  JS

  Yes, please.

  The girl led the way and the
rest of us followed. I was giddy with companionship and success. I chatted amicably to the girls, who were visiting from Lethbridge to hike and camp. They asked a bunch of questions about the show and about Robbie, and for once I didn’t resent answering. When the girl with the shirt emerged from her cousin’s garage with the bike, I hugged each of them.

  OTHER GIRL

  [to her friends]

  I didn’t know she was so nice.

  I forgot the HOOtoques were still there until they made a call to confirm the next shift. I don’t know how they’ll keep up with me, but I don’t doubt they will.

  GIRL

  I have a lock with a key and a helmet for you too. You never know.

  JS

  I don’t know how to thank you! Write your phone number on my arm so I can return everything when I’m done. Is there anything else I can do for you?

  GIRL

  Just win. That would be pretty cool.

  JS

  Okay, I can do that.

  I strapped on the helmet, thanked them again, and pedaled off into the night.

  I found the main highway and rode like the wind. I had no idea where Robbie was, but I knew I couldn’t underestimate him. Thankfully the bike had a small headlight and reflectors so I could see the road and cars could see me. Not that there were many vehicles out. For the most part it was just the HOOtoques’ dirty Civic and me. I rode until my lungs burned and my legs threatened to snap. When my vision blurred and I yawned more than I breathed normally, I pulled over. I spread the packets of peanut butter on granola bars and took a long drink from my water bottle. As soon as I finished, I got back on and kept going. I had no idea how many more hours it would take to get out of the mountains, but I couldn’t wait for flat road again. Eventually my exhaustion numbed my aching body, and all I could feel was the darkness and the cold mountain air and the countless black trees rising up on either side of me. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so vulnerable.

  I’ll sleep when I’ve won.

  I’ll sleep when I’ve won.

  I’ll sleep when I’ve won.

  I turned the next bend to find huge eyes glowing in front of me. My heart screamed. I tried to turn away, but my blood was molasses. Adrenaline kicked in and my mind compensated for my lack of mobility. Oh god not a bear not a bear I have pepper spray but it’s in the safety pack what if it’s a moose I hope the HOOtoques are getting this what if the moose’s antlers impale me oh god not a moose—​

  Crunch.

  Antlers pummeled my rib cage. I twisted and fell and hit the pavement with another crunch. My bike wheel landed on my leg, but that was impossible because my bike was underneath me.

  MOOSE

  What the fuck?

  JS

  [Unintelligible groan.]

  MOOSE

  Jane? Jane, are you okay?

  JS

  Robbie?

  Robbie slowly pulled his bike off of us and sat up. A car door slammed shut, and heavy footsteps ran toward us. I spent a confused minute looking for the moose before I realized there was no wildlife present.

  HOOTOQUE

  Jane? You all right? Robbie?

  JS

  (?)

  HOOTOQUE

  Just hold on. Don’t move. I’m calling for help.

  JS

  Don’t you dare!

  HOOTOQUE

  What?

  I’d come too far to be disqualified now.

  JS

  I’m fine. I don’t need assistance. I can get up.

  I was definitely not fine, but I got up anyway to prove my point.

  HOOTOQUE

  Jane, it’s okay. But you’re not okay. We just want to make sure you’re okay.

  I picked up my bike and checked for damage. Surprisingly, it seemed all right. Robbie’s bike took the worst of it. I got back on. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I was afraid if I didn’t get going right away, I’d fall asleep. I felt better once I’d started moving again. R called after me.

  R

  Are you sure you’re good?

  JS

  I’m good enough.

  Somehow R’s bike still worked and he quickly caught up. As we wobbled along the road together I allowed myself a brief look back. The HOOtoque was talking on his cell phone.

  R

  You know they’re calling for help right now.

  JS

  Yeah. But I refuse to be disqualified for something as stupid as a bike crash.

  R

  I wish we could get rid of them.

  The sky was clear. We didn’t need the Civic behind us—​between the moon and the headlight on my bike, I could see fine. After a few minutes of slow riding, we came to an exit for a rest stop. I took the exit, keeping my eyes on the sides of the road. As soon as I found a decent trail, I bolted.

  The mountain bike handled the trail fairly well, and the excitement of ditching the cameras for a little while gave me a second boost of energy. I whipped down the trail as quickly as I dared. I couldn’t go as fast as I would have liked, but unless the HOOtoques had bikes in the back of that tiny Civic, they wouldn’t be catching up anytime soon. I had ridden for half an hour or so before I realized Robbie was still following me. I couldn’t stop him and I’m not sure I wanted to. If I was going to win, I wanted to beat him fair. Not because the paramedics caught him.

  I kept going longer than I wanted to—​I expected him to fall off any minute. He didn’t. Eventually I pulled over anyway. Robbie stopped too. As soon as I dismounted, everything hurt.

  JS

  Are you following me?

  R

  No. We just happen to be going the same direction.

  I drained my water bottle. We were both breathing hard.

  JS

  So, what now?

  R

  What about a truce?

  JS

  Ha.

  R

  Temporary of course. Just until we’ve rested.

  JS

  How can I trust you to not ride off without me?

  R pulled a lock out of his backpack.

  R

  You can have the key.

  JS

  And how can you trust me?

  He shrugged.

  I pulled out the key to my own lock.

  JS

  We could use both locks.

  R

  Okay.

  We moved the bikes off the trail and hid them in some bushes, locking the frames together. I sensed a trap, but I didn’t have the energy to outthink him. As we stood over the bikes in silence, it hit us. We were alone. No HOOtoques, no people, no lights, no cameras.

  We had never been this alone before.

  R

  So, what now?

  I didn’t know.

  JS

  We sleep, I guess.