in Conner’s head. All I know
is I want to be inside there too.
So I tell him, very softly,
“We may have more than just
each other. But that doesn’t
diminish what I feel
for you.”
Conner
I thought I Was Ready
To graduate Aspen Springs,
move ahead with my life.
I even quit taking the Prozac,
to prove to myself that I could.
I figured the Challenge would
provide enough stimulation
to let me go cold turkey.
Four days later I can’t decide
if that’s why I feel like I’m
fresh out of hope, or if it’s
the big, ugly picture. Never
before did I doubt my ability
to one day leave Mom and Dad
in my dust, carve a niche, climb
inside and stay there, satisfied
with my personal pit of lust.
But my visit home only served
to implode all perception
of independence. The thing
with Emily showed how focused
my parents are on exerting
control indefinitely. Forever
is too long to spend, forced
into the “submissive” role.
And then Dr. Boston had to
dredge up all that stuff about
Leona. Talk about your
psychological sledgehammers.
She confronted me with a demon
I had buried a long time ago,
exhumed suppressed guilt
I had carried far too long.
And Now, Here’s Vanessa
Offering abstract confessions
of affection. If I were
normal, how would I describe
our definite connection?
I love the way she feels in
the curve of my arm. I love
her unpretentious beauty,
her intelligence, her nerve.
But could I ever love her?
The concept of falling in love
is completely foreign, something
I can’t bring myself to accept.
Her hair pillows my cheek and
her hand on my leg is warm.
I care about you, Conner,
and I hate to see you hurting.
I want to respond but can’t
find the pretty words I need.
Tony comes to my rescue.
Do you two mind? I’m trying
to meditate here. Ohm. Ohm.
Damn! Now I’m distracted.
Once again I’m amazed at
how he can jump right in
and lighten even the heaviest
situation. Tony is gold.
More than probably anyone,
he has earned my admiration.
I know Vanessa loves him too.
“Why don’t you join us?” I kid.
“I can’t speak for Vanessa, but
I’ve always wanted to try
a threesome. Hetero only,
though. You up for that, Tony?”
I’ll try anything once. And
you know, I just might like it.
We Stop to Stretch Our Legs
And take a piss in the desert.
Not difficult for the guys,
but embarrassing for the ladies.
The result is a lecture on
wilderness hygiene, delivered
with great panache by Raven.
Please spread out to urinate,
and if you must defecate,
grab this little shovel and be
sure to dig at least a foot
deep. You do not want to leave
your shit where lions can find it.
Dahlia is impressed. Lions?
What do you mean, lions?
Raven clarifies. Mountain lions—
plentiful here, but rarely seen,
because generally they would
rather not mess with people.
Still, the odd cat can have a taste
for humans, so let me stress
the importance of knowing how
to deal with a cat if you happen
on one. Don’t run. Make noise. Fight
back. Don’t look like an easy meal.
Dahlia looks like cougar fast
food—a no-brain meal. I can’t
believe I might have to fight
a lion. That’s totally screwed.
Tony jabs, No worries, dear.
A cat would take one bite and spit
you hack out. You’re tasteless. Now,
if you’ll excuse me, I have to make
a pit stop.
Tony
Almost Dark
We bump up beside a rock
outcropping, get ready
to camp for the night.
How many of you have
camped in the wilderness
before? asks Sean.
“Define wilderness,” I say.
“Does it include the parks
and alleys in Reno?”
Sean cracks half a smile.
That’s a different kind
of wilderness, Tony.
“Tell me about it. It smells
a whole lot better out
here in the boonies.”
We want to leave it that
way. You already know about
how to relieve yourselves….
Sean launches into a whole
“leave no tracks” routine,
even though we’ve already
been over it in our orientation:
Carry in, carry out; don’t
disturb wildlife or vegetation….
Bored immediately, I turn
my attention to Raven, who’s
unloading gear. Some of it
looks pretty heavy. Hope
we don’t have to carry that
stuff in or out, but something
tells me we do. I spy a
steep trail, leading up
into the mountains.
No way a vehicle would
manage that. Looks like
we’ll be walking from here.
Raven Shows Us
How to build a portable
shelter—four poles and
a canvas roof, no walls.
Then she gives each of us
a backpack, a thin sleeping
bag, and barely enough
clothes to get us through
three reeking weeks.
We arrange our sleeping
bags, boys on one side
of the newly built fire pit,
girls on the other, and
suddenly I notice how
cold it becomes, once
the sun takes a dive.
Better gather some fire-
wood, Sean says, before
it gets much darker.
We all spread out, looking
for something that qualifies.
Mostly, it’s sage twigs.
Sage burns hot and fast.
Better get plenty, Raven warns.
It’s going to be a cold one.
Raven lights the fire, and
just about then I notice
there are no lanterns.
No cookstoves, either, she
says. Did you expect
a Coleman display?
All that stuff is heavy,
not what you’ll want
to be carrying in your
packs over miles of
rough territory, let
alone up a rock cliff.
Things Swim into Focus
For some stupid reason
I had it in mind that we’d
do a little hiking, a little
climbing, then return
to our neat little camp for
dinner and bed
time stories.
Looks like tonight is
the closest we’ll get,
and we’re already miles
from anything I pictured.
The others look nervous
too. Except for Conner.
Since we had a big lunch,
says Raven, we’ll skip
MREs tonight, and stick
with fresh veggies and fruit.
Even if you don’t really like
them, you’ll miss them soon.
She breaks out apples,
bananas, grapes, raw
carrots, and broccoli,
plus an assortment of
crackers and cheeses.
You’ll miss cheese, too.
I already miss hot food,
which is strange. I’ve
gone for days with nothing
more than stale bread and
peanut butter. Spoiled
by Aspen Springs?
Groans and crunching
noises fill the cool air
inside our temporary
shelter. We all gather
around the fire, not quite
getting warm. Everyone,
except Conner.
Vanessa
Okay, This Is Less
Than I bargained for—primitive,
not to mention cold.
Even around the campfire,
our breath puffs
into the evening air, mixing
with smoke as if we’re all
indulging nicotine habit
No bad habits out here,
except for our meds,
dutifully distributed
by Raven the Taskmistress.
We sit shoulder-to-shoulder
in silence, trying to snatch
a little body warmth, as
the meds kick in.
Only Conner sits off to one
side, not affected by
temperature, but surely bothered
by something. Despite all
the ice-breaking on the way
here, he’s frozen solid.
One thing I notice, since I can
hardly keep my eyes off him,
is how he waits for Raven
to turn her back before spitting
out the pill she hands him.
Softly, he digs a little hole
in the sand with one hiking
boot, slips the med inside,
smoothes it over, buried treasure.
My eyes travel to Tony,
and I see he is watching
Conner too. Finally he glances
at me, and we offer a mutual shrug.
He scoots closer. Don’t worry,
Vanessa. Everything will be okay.
Conner knows what he’s doing.
I Wander into the Sage
For a pre-bed pee, notice how
the stars have assaulted the black
of night sky. The moon is on slow
rise, and I’m sure I have never
witnessed anything so stunning.
My flashlight illuminates
a path, worn through the vegetation,
and I choose it as the easy way
before wondering about what
made the trail to begin with.
As I squat down behind a taller
bush, hoping my silhouette won’t
be seen from the campfire,
movement in the brush startles
me into rising, pants dropped.
I wave my flashlight, left
to right, and I find myself
eyeball-to-eyeball with a deer,
not four feet away. I see no
antlers, so it must be a doe,
as scared of me as I was
of her just a few seconds ago.
“It’s okay, pretty thing,” I say,
real quiet so I don’t make her
even more scared.
But with a flick of her tail,
she dashes away, into
the safety of the night.
Vanessa? Where are you?
calls Raven, traipsing through
the sage, hot on my trail, as
if taking off, sixty-some miles
to the nearest approximation
of civilization, were an option.
I yank up my pants. “Over
here.” Trading heartbeats
with a deer. “I’m coming.
It’s freezing out here.”
Scrunched Down Into
The relative warmth of our
sleeping bags, we listen to Sean,
outlining tomorrow’s goals:
We leave the truck here, head
up into the hills. The higher we
go, the more likely it is we’ll
run into snow, so the going
may get muddy. Try to avoid
slushy puddles. If your feet
get wet, you’re going to blister,
and we won’t slow down for
that—or anything that can
be avoided, with a little
common sense.
Raven adds, This isn’t
TV. You may have watched
Survivor or that show called
Brat Camp. Hard as those
may look, the camera guys
following everyone around
mitigate real hardship
We’re not here to hurt you,
but we’re not going to help
in situations you create,
or those you can dig
yourselves out of.
Back to Sean. There will be
times when you’ll have to
resort to teamwork to accomplish
a leg of the program. Working
together is how you’ll get
through the Challenge, and how
you’ll get through life.
Trying to find sleep, I look
out at the stars, and just as I
start to settle down, a coyote
starts to sing.
Conner
Coyote Booty Calls
Crack the night’s smooth silence,
raising quiet alarm among
the ranks. “Relax, everyone.
A coyote’s diet is pretty
much rabbits, mice, and the
occasional cat. And if you’re
concerned about rabies, worry
more about the stray bat who
happens into our shelter.”
God, it’s great to watch them
squirm, every eye straining
to find an odd winged creature,
flapping beneath the canopy.
Yip, yip, yip invites one scruffy
excuse for a canine. I hear
a sleeping bag zip tighter.
At my right, Tony laughs.
Relax, Justin. You know
Jesus won’t let those coyot’s
make midnight snacks out of us.
Justin answers, Jesus helps
those who help themselves, but I
wouldn’t expect someone like
you to know things like that.
What do you mean, “someone like
me?” I hope that’s not an attack
on my character. Because that is
not a Christian philosophy.
Wisely, Justin crawls back into
his pit of surly silence.
Quiet down now, orders Sean.
You’ll be getting up early.
All’s Quiet
Except for the chorus of
medicated snores, and I
half-regret not joining
them in sedated limbo.
Instead I’m lying here, on
a hard crust of playa sand,
listening to the desert night,
inhaling sage-scented dust,
blown up by a bone-chilling
wind. Seems you don’t notice
the cold, cradled by downers,
mired in Valium dreams.
Cold or no, I will stick to
my decision to rid my body
of drugs while I’m out here—
supervision-free detox.
No more a.m. stimulants, p.m.
depressants, which might appeal
to a very large crowd of loser
adolescents. But not me.
Mom and Dad would be proud—
Yeah, right. Who am I kidding?
After all the trauma, all
the drama, I’ll never quite
make their greatest achievements
list. Something cheerful to think about,
brain fighting my body’s request
for sleep. Through a heavy mist
of exhaustion comes a blitz
of memories—Dr. Boston,
Leona, Emily, all women
I tried my best to please
in whatever ways they asked.
And I see that it was all just
a warped bid for attention
from one woman—Mommy.
Pale Light
Filters through my closed
eyelids, pierces my pupils,
rouses me into morning,
forbids any hope of sleep.
Rise and shine, happy campers!
croaks Sean. Coffee’s brewing.
What the fuck, asshole? responds
Dahlia. What time is it? Like dawn?
It’s time to haul your lazy
butt out of the sack! says Raven.
Dahlia groans. Fine. I’m hauling.
But don’t expect peak performance.
No worries. No one would ever
expect peak performance from
you. Tony’s jab draws tired laughter.
Impulse Page 22