No, this feeling was a nervousness that held hands with excitement; a giddiness that stirred just enough curiosity about the future. I glanced over at the fire, thinking of how Theory had lit a pilot light in my heart. Her words, her kindness, and her love had become a part of me. I belonged to someone, and she belonged to me.
“Here,” she said, extending a closed fist toward me.
I reached back and accepted a gift hidden in her hand. “Wow, this is beautiful. What is it?”
“It’s a compass. It’s so that you can always find your way back to me,” she said, her voice slightly breaking.
I took a deep breath and squeezed the small metal piece in my hand. The magnetic needle oscillated and I turned it over to see a Stellar’s Jay engraved on the back. A wave of love and gratitude crashed into me from all sides of the universe, bringing me to tears. “Thank you, Theory. For everything…”
I fell into her arms and we hugged as long as we needed to. I cried into her shoulder, wanting to confess to her how much she had changed my life and how I would never be able to repay her, but I couldn’t find the phrase to capture the magnitude of all she had done for me. When I had accepted that our nights together were limited, I pulled away and grounded myself. “Okay. I know it’s time.”
Theory took a deep breath and patted my back. “Okay. Good.”
We looked at one another again, almost trying to mop up what was left of our hug to keep forever. She smiled and turned back toward the table. “So I was thinking, since we talk so often about the importance of sharing your story, you could write yours down.”
Theory picked up a dark, leather-bound book and handed it to me. The cover had the outline of a butterfly deeply imprinted into it. I opened it up to clean, blank pages and sighed. “Wow, Theory, this is amazing. Did you make it for me?”
She smiled proudly. “I did. I thought you could spend some time writing your story down before you left. You know, now that there are no secrets left and everything.”
I laughed as she winked and handed me a pen. I sniffled away the last of my tears and sat in my chair. “Okay.”
“Good. Then I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy,” she said, bowing her head and walking out of the library with grace.
I took a deep breath and leaned my head back. Where would I even start? There was so much to tell. I had been born into chaos, grown up with endless amounts of abuse, and ran away in desperation to find the sister who was taken from me. I fought to stay alive most days, often crying myself to sleep and disconnecting from my body as a means to make it through the hard parts. I was deprived of a real childhood, told I was worthless, and made to believe that my role was to satisfy the selfish needs of unhealthy adults around me.
But more importantly, I had also been loved. Once by very important teachers, then by a stoic role-model of compassion, and finally, by a group of strangers my age who ended up becoming family. I had held onto something much bigger than myself; a hope that something more existed for me than what I was fated into. I believed in magic just enough to see it manifest before me, summoning strength that came from a secret place until I was able to breathe again. I had stayed brave just long enough to feel the sunlight of healthy, kind compassion. I was now the authentic version of myself, ready to run toward the sunrise with an open heart. I could, and had, done anything.
I sighed deeply, feeling proud of myself for everything I had accomplished. I looked down at the paper, and let go of whatever tiny remnants of shame, secrecy, and fear existed. It was time to let go of the first half of my story to make room for the rest of it:
My name is Sam, and this is my story. I grew up as a punching bag for everyone around me. I was abused in every way imaginable, by nearly every significant adult in my life. Finally, in a moment of desperation and the realization that I might die if it got any worse, I ran away. I ran deep into the mountains and found this house in the middle of the trees. That’s where I met Theory. I see my life in two parts: before and after Theory. She saved my life and gave me a future. It is because of her I know my own strength now and can save other kids going through the same thing. My greatest struggle became my greatest purpose. I will spend the rest of my life saving other kids and reminding them that they already have what they need to survive and be okay. I know all of this, because it happened to me…
Knock, knock. A gentle bumping at the door behind me broke my trance. I swiveled around to see Dodger sheepishly standing in the doorframe. He had one hand in his pant pocket and used the other one to wave slowly. “Hey, you.”
I smiled, happy to see him. “Hey, you.”
“Sorry to bug you. Is it cool if I come in for a minute?” he asked respectfully.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, glad to have a distraction from the paragraphs I knew were about to take ownership of my hand and heart.
“I wanted to pop in and say goodnight before heading into the trees,” he joked.
It took everything I had to not flutter out of my seat and into his arms. “Oh, thanks. I’m glad you’re getting a head start on some sleep! How is everyone doing?”
“They’re good. Great, actually,” Dodger said, pausing to think about his words. “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever been so close. I hope it’s okay to say, but, having Nova and Theory around make it feel like a whole….mm…I don’t know.”
“A whole what?”
Dodger scratched the back of his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Like, a family or whatever.”
I felt so happy I wanted to cry. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Dodger smiled and walked toward Theory’s chair. He looked it over, then scratched his shoulder. “Mm, is it okay if I sit with you for a sec?”
Feeling weird and nervous about him sitting in Theory’s chair, but not wanting to say no, I did my best to stay neutral. “Yeah, sure.”
Being the ever-gentleman that Dodger was, he smiled softly and then sat on the floor in front of Theory’s chair. “I know that belongs to Theory, so.”
I laughed a bit, feeling grateful that he was so thoughtful. “Yeah, thanks.”
He nodded. “So, what are ya workin’ on?”
“Oh, um,” I shifted in my chair, suddenly unsure about sharing something so personal with the one person I had wanted so badly to be personal with constantly. I ran my fingers through my bangs. “It’s, um, something Theory asked me to do. She, mm, collects stories of people she’s helped and…well…this is mine.”
Dodger raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Wow, Sam. That sounds like a big deal. You guys must have worked really hard on stuff.”
I nodded my head, feeling proud of how true that felt when he said it. “Yeah, we really did.”
He smiled. “That’s awesome. I’m really happy you have someone like her.”
I tried to mirror his smile, but my heartache tugged at my head so hard it bowed toward my writing. “Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning toward me.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Eh, it’s just…I don’t know how much longer I’ll actually have her around anymore. She thinks it’s time for me to leave and go back with you guys to start doing bigger things.”
Dodger bowed his head. “Oh, I see. That must’ve been hard to hear.” I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to answer him. He lifted his head back up, balancing my energy. “Well, hey, the way I see it, you two have done some pretty special stuff together. I know I kinda already said this, but when I saw you again, for the first time at the Lake, you seemed different. You felt, I don’t know, stronger. And happier. I had never seen you look so…with it.”
My eyes shot up to meet his, shocked by his confession. He tilted his head as he spoke. “I knew something had happened between the last time we saw each other and when we met up again. I didn’t know for sure what it was, but I remember feeling relieved that you were okay. I remember hoping that you had found someone to look out for you. Little did I know it was some magical know-it-all in
the woods!”
We both burst into laughter. I shook my head. “Yeah, that wasn’t really planned.”
“No, of course not. But Sam,” Dodger said, his eyes locking into mine. “it’s obvious you’re growing into someone huge. Like even the others see it. You are naturally strong for all of us. We all look up to you. You know, even I do. And Theory? Well, that lady knows what’s up. Seriously.”
I laughed again, wanting to tear up in joy, but instead listening to my closest friend continue his speech. “And if she says it’s time, then you have to trust that. And you know you still have us, no matter what. Whatever is out there waiting for us, we’ll do it together. I’m here. Nova’s here. And Theory will always be here, too. Ya know?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know.”
“I just…I think it’s time, too,” he said.
I looked at him, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“But,” he said holding up his hands. “we’ll go at your pace. Just let us know.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He stood back up, wiping off his pants as if our conversation had stirred up some dust. “Okay. Well, I’m gonna hit the nest. See ya tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said, letting my heart fall harder for him.
Without another word, Dodger graciously walked up to me, slowly leaned forward, and whispered. “May I?”
I nodded, and then let him kiss me again. The fire popped as loud as my heart did. It was everything I had been wondering about since our first kiss.
He pulled away and nodded goodnight. As he walked away, I turned my chair toward him. “Hey, Dodge?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for telling me all of that.”
“Ah, yeah, of course. Ya know I always try to get deep with the feelz around ya. I gotta keep up with ol’ Theory.”
I laughed a bit and then watched him continue walking toward the door. Before he sauntered all the way out, I called out to him again. “Dodge?”
“Yeah?”
“A couple more days?”
He placed his hand over his heart and looked at me with his big, brown eyes. “You got it.”
And with that, he was gone. I turned toward my book, the sentences of my life story begging to be finished.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
As promised, Dodger gave me the space and time I needed over the next couple days to finish writing and make my peace with leaving Theory. I spent every possible moment near her, being fully present and talking to her as much as I could about anything and everything. I knew full well what she was worth and didn’t need to separate from her to value it.
Finally, on our last day at the tree house in the middle of the woods, we all ate breakfast together as a group. Theory packed my compass, hand-drawn map, snacks, and water into my backpack. It was everything I needed to feel close to her.
One by one my friends took turns saying goodbye to our savior and then climbed down the tree. Rishawn went first, giving Theory a high five and a hug, then, naturally, yelling the entire way down about a game we could play on our hike. Mikayla shook Theory’s hand and gave her a nod. “You a’ight. Thanks for lookin’ out.”
Dodger gave Theory a hug, being careful to thank her for her time and patience with the group. He had the pile of Manifesto papers tied up in his backpack, excited about being able to mass distribute them soon.
Next came Nova, who approached Theory with an unparalleled sincerity. “Thank you for helping my sister, and for helping to find me. I think you really changed her life and it makes me happy that she’s happy now. She deserves it.”
“Ah, well, you both do. I am so honored to have been able to meet you finally. You two have an impossible bond and will always find one another. Keep each other safe and never hesitate to come find me if anything gets tricky.”
“We will, Theory. Thank you,” she said. Nova looked at me and smiled. “Seester, I’ll see you down there?”
“Yeah, seester,” I said, giving her permission to go ahead.
Then the hard part arrived.
The group had left Theory and I alone on the deck, inches from one another, struggling to start our goodbye. No matter how much I had prepared for this moment, or how many drafts of a speech I had written up to deliver to her, nothing came out. Instead, I just rushed into her arms and began to cry.
“It’s too hard,” I choked.
“You’re right, Sam. This is hard.”
“I hate this part. Why does this always have to happen to people?!”
“Relationships are hard and painful, kiddo. There is no doubt about that,” she said while holding me, her voice muffled in the hood of my sweater. “They test and exhaust nearly all parts of us sometimes. Especially when goodbyes are involved.”
“Then why try and have them?!” My heart broke under the weight of my voice. I pulled away, feeling betrayed again suddenly. “What’s the point of meeting you if I just have to turn right around and leave you?!”
My vision blurred behind a veil of tears and I could feel my body cave in on itself from sadness. I began thinking of all of the moments Theory and I shared. The first time she poked fun at me and tricked me into laughing out loud. The first time she held my hand when I was too scared to share my story. The first time she looked at me as if I belonged to her. The first time she pulled me out of a memory when I was too scared to fight it alone. The first time she looked at me in that special way that told me she loved me.
She was looking at me in that way now. “Sam. May I ask you something?”
I couldn’t look at her directly. Instead I took a deep breath and forced a reply. “Okay.”
She spoke calmly. “When you’re out walking around in the woods having an adventure, do you think I forget about you?”
“No,” I said, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“And when you’re out there running through the trees and playing in the river, do you forget about me?”
I looked up at her, almost offended that she would even ask. “No, of course not.”
“And when you go to bed? Do you think I forget you are sleeping in the branches above me?”
“No, I’m right there!”
“Yes. And when your eyes run through the constellations before you fall asleep, do you forget that I exist nearby?”
Sniffling, I turn my full attention Theory. “No. I think about you every day, all the time! There’s no way I would ever forget you!”
“Exactly. So then why, Sam, would I ever forget about you if you chose to leave the mountain?” She bent to the side a bit to try and make eye contact with me, but I was being impossible. I knew what she was saying was true, but the pain of already missing her twisted at my heart. I could see her smile compassionately from the corner of my eye. “Kiddo, we are forever connected because we have built a castle of caring around us. Do you remember one of our earlier talks about people leaving legacies?”
I shut my eyes to avoid bursting into tears completely, already knowing what she was about to say. “Yes.”
“We all leave legacies in one another, Sam. Just as I have hopefully left a legacy of caring, listening, and healing to you, you have graced me with gifts almost too enormous to put to words,” she said softly.
My eyes opened and locked onto hers. I watched her face melt into a reassuring smile and I could feel the pain in my stomach loosen a bit.
She was right. We had shared so much in such a short amount of time that it bonded us in a way that could not be compromised by time or distance. It was clear that this journey we had built was deeply meaningful for us both.
“Sam,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders. “I am so, so proud of you.”
My eyebrows furrowed to fight another onslaught of tears. Even though I had heard her say this before, this time it seemed to resonate through every layer of my soul.
“You are one of the bravest people I have ever had the honor of knowing. Your courage has inspired
me to be more courageous in my own life. And, as much as I would love to keep you for myself, I know that your purpose in this life is greater than any one person. You are meant for more than just this experience. Your story is still being written.”
Her head bowed slightly and for the first time since I had met Theory, she allowed herself to cry in front of me. It was a rare vulnerability that fused together all of my suspicions that she had loved me just as much as I loved her.
“Sam, I’ve never had a daughter,” she said, staying stoic through her tears. “But if I did, you would be the closest thing I’d want to one.”
I rushed into Theory’s arms, savoring how safe and familiar she felt. She had somehow turned from a stranger into a teacher; and then from a mentor to the closest thing I had ever had to a mother. I knew now, with absolute certainty, that even though I needed to leave Theory to help other kids, she would be a part of me forever. I had an inkling that the same would be true for her.
We took our time hugging until the afternoon sun reminded us that there were more pressing matters to attend to. I slowly pulled away from Theory and threw my backpack over my shoulder, trying to better commit to leaving the house this time. I wiped the tears from my eyes a final time and took a deep breath, promising myself that I would hold it together for the both of us.
She kept her hand on my back as I walked toward the tree and offered a concluding hug before I stepped onto the twist of branches. We looked at one another, saying the last of our goodbyes with our eyes.
It was time.
I climbed down the branches I had come to know so well. With every step came a memory of my time with Theory. Flashes of kindness, wisdom, and love carried me safely to the forest floor.
“Sam?!” Theory called one last time from the porch of her tree house. I stopped in mid-stride, turning toward her. With a humbling essence of strength and grace about her, she smiled widely. “Be brave.”
My heart raced, inspired by her final blessing and all of the lessons she had given me. I waved back to my hero with bittersweet gratitude.
A butterfly casually danced past my wave and I felt a wave of calm wash over me. Everything was going to be okay. Zipping up my hoodie and grabbing the handle of my backpack, I turned back toward the forest and ran deep into the tress.
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