by Masha Leyfer
“It most certainly is,” he agrees.
We continue walking. After five more minutes, we come to a steep drop of about three and a half meters. Nathan hands me his guitar.
“Hold this.” He dexterously swings down onto the ground below. I reach down and hand him the guitar.
“Aren’t you afraid of heights?” I ask.
“I’m afraid of being high up, but jumping doesn’t bother me so much.”
“Oh,” I say, then look down, assessing how best to get reach the ground.
“Jump,”
“I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. I’ll catch you.”
“You’ll catch me?” I say skeptically.
“Yes.”
I laugh nervously.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I hesitate.
“Do you think I’ll drop you?”
I pause for a moment.
“Will you?”
“Of course not. Just trust that I’ll catch you.”
“I do,” I say. “I really do. But I don’t think I trust myself to jump.”
Instead, I close my eyes, I swing my feet over the edge, hang on with my fingers, and then drop into a crouch next to Nathan. The impact of my feet with the ground sends a small jolt through my knee joints, but least I didn’t fall over.
“That works too,” Nathan shrugs. “Let’s go, then. We’re nearly there.” We walk up a hill and Nathan stops at a large oak tree.
“Do you have a particular song in mind you want to learn?” Nathan asks, sitting down.
“Um...not really. What’s your favorite song? Teach me that.”
“My favorite song...I suppose that would be Hallelujah, by Leonard Cohen. You’ve heard of Leonard Cohen, right?” I shake my head. “Christ, Molly, did you live in a ditch your entire life? He was a very influential musician in the twentieth century. I’ll sing Hallelujah for you now.”
He sings it. Once again, I am entranced. Through what I catch of the lyrics, I decide that the song is about imagining a life different from the one the you have.
“That’s nice,” I say in a failed attempt at a compliment.
“Yeah, it is. You wanna learn it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“All right, it’s not that difficult once you get the hang of it. Okay, so the first line, I heard there was a secret chord is on A minor then C major.” The majors and minors and letters mean nothing to me, but I nod anyway. “Like this.”
He shows me how to position my fingers and sings the first verse.
“Now you try.” He hands the guitar to me. It takes me a moment, but I clumsily place my fingers the way Nathan showed me. I strum. It sounds close enough.
“Like this?” I ask.
“Move your fingers closer to the fret - that’s the metal thing. No, the other way. That’s right.” I strum again. “Yes, that sounds better,” he says. “Now sing the first phrase and switch to C major on secret. I’ll sing it with you.” I shakily sing the first phrase, I heard there was a secret chord, slowly and carefully moving my finger to the next chord on secret.
“You have a very nice voice, Molly,” Nathan says. “You’ve seriously never sung before?”
“Um, no,” I say, blushing. I turn away, so that he doesn’t see me turning red. “How does the next phrase go?”
“Same way. A minor, C major. That David played and it pleased the Lord. You switch back to A minor on David and back to C major on pleased.”
By this point I’ve figured out that the majors are chords. I sing the second phrase, awkwardly switching between C major and A minor.
“That’s it,” Nathan says. Just practice it several more times and we’ll move on to the next phrases.”
Gradually, my fingers fall into position more naturally and I can sing through phrases without excruciatingly long pauses during chord changes. As I continue to advance through the song, I get the sense that Nathan is enjoying this even more than I am. I remember the song about love.
No.
I decided against it, I remind myself. I disproved it. There’s no way, no reason. And I should stop thinking about it. The words false hope come into my head, but I shake them off. I’m not hoping for this. I don’t want it.
“Hey, Molly, have you ever been in love?”
“What?” The question seems so in place in my own thoughts, that hearing it from somebody else catches me off guard completely.
“In love? Me? No. Why do you ask?” I sound very defensive, although I have nothing to hide.
“Just out of interest,” Nathan shrugs.
“Oh. Well, no, I haven’t.” Then, after a pause, “Um, have...have you?” I ask cautiously. Nathan smiles distantly.
“Yeah, once.”
I suddenly find myself insanely curious, not just about love, but about Nathan.
“What’s it like? What was it like for you?”
“It’s...complicated. It’s wonderful and terrible at the same time. On one hand, every time you see the person smile, it send sparks through your body. Every time you make that person smile, you know you’ve done right. But also not knowing whether or not that person loves you back, it’s...it’s nothing short of agonous. It slowly consumes all your thoughts, but in a good way. You find yourself thinking about that person all the time and it puts a smile on your face every time.”
“It sounds terrifying,” I say.
“It is,” Nathan says. “But for the first time in your life, you actually do want to be terrified. You can’t get enough of it.” He looks up at the stars. “Wow, it’s really late! I’m sorry for keeping you up.”
“No, no, it was my pleasure.”
“If you want, we could do this again and I could teach you the last verse?..”
“I would love to,” I smile.
“You really do have a beautiful voice.”
I blush again.
“As do you.”
“Thanks.” We begin to walk back. At the drop, Nathan puts his hands out in a cup to boost me up. I pull him up from the top. Nathan crosses the river first again, extending his hand as he did before.
“Good night,” I whisper when we reach the camp.
“Good night,” Nathan whispers back, taking the guitar from me.
I quietly slip inside my tent. Once again, I find that sleep eludes me. This time around, it doesn’t particularly bother me. I think of Nathan. I can’t seem to get him off my mind.
CHAPTER 8
I train with Mike in Field of the Fallen again. Instead of punching at Bob, Mike has me fight him now. Over the course of the month, Mike has taught me how best to kill a person, usually through the use of a short philosophical monologue. We battle now in hand to hand combat in what Mike calls the culmination of my training. First one on the ground loses, Mike says at the beginning of every fight. We will continue until I win. The last week, I have consistently lost. I have bruises in many different colors all over my body from my losses.
Today, however, we’ve been going for almost ten minutes with no result—my best fight so far. I’m breathing hard, and Mike is clearly gaining an advantage. I am blocking Mike’s punches and moving my feet out of the way much more than launching any type of attack. Mike seems to still be at ease, his breathing still even. I understand that it is very unlikely that I will win. My suspicions are confirmed when Mike sticks out his foot and I trip over it. He reaches out his hand to help me up.
“That was better,” Mike says. “Do you understand what you did wrong?”
“Not really.”
“Two things: one, you waited too long, and that both wore you out and forced you to take the defensive. That gave me the advantage. If you want to win, do it right away. If you’re fighting someone new, this is especially important, because otherwise, they begin to pick up your patterns. Two, you move too much. That’s bad for two reasons. First of all, it consumes unnecessary energy. Don’t make any unnecessary movements. Be light on your feet. Second, I didn’t have to
put any effort into tripping you. All I did was stick out my foot and waited for you to trip over it yourself. I’m not saying that you should stay still - that makes you an easy target. But if you move too much, your movement can be used against you. Only move as much as you need to. It’s a balance. Remember: balance is the most important thing in a battle. Remember that always. And one more thing about movement,” Mike adds. “Always move forward. It’s intimidating, and it forces the other person to move back, which places the fight on your terms. Sometimes, going forward can be frightening to you, the mover. Forward is the direction of uncertainty and change, because you never know what’s there. That’s why it’s so intimidating when somebody does move forward. It means that they are not afraid of the most terrifying thing known to mankind. You have to prove that to yourself as well as the other person. In the end, the only way to go is forward.”
I nod again.
“That’s good advice, but you’ll be following it too, right?”
“Right. So ideally, this next fight will be a competition of who follows it better. But keep in mind: you shouldn’t be too engrossed in following this one piece of advice. This is not all there is to a fight. Remember everything else you know as well.”
“Alright.”
“Good. We’ll rest for two more minutes and then we’ll fight again.”
I doubt that I’ll be able to win. Mike has years of experience and I’ve only been learning for a month. It can’t hurt to try, of course.
Actually, I think, massaging my sore muscles, it can.
“All right, let’s go.”
I put my hands in front of my chest and throw a roundhouse punch, stepping forward at the same time. Mike blocks it easily, grabbing my hand and pulling me off balance. I struggle to stay up. I twist my hand out of his grasp and wait for Mike to make the next move. Mike throws a punch. I lean back, and Mike takes the opportunity to step forward, forcing me back. This is what he meant: the battle is already on his terms.
I realize that if I want to win, I have to do it now. The odds are quickly turning in Mike’s favor. I am already tired, and before long, Mike will be put at an advantage by his better physique. In a rush of adrenaline, I hook my foot under Mike’s knee and shove him down with both of my hands. Mike trips over my foot and ends up on the ground. My eyes widen in surprise. I didn’t expect that to work. I extend my hand to help Mike up. He takes it, brushes himself off, and smiles.
“You’ve done well,” he says. “It’s almost time for lunch. We might as well stop here.” He heads back toward camp, leaving me in the clearing.
I remain rooted in the ground by surprise for several more minutes. I’m still not sure exactly what happened. It seems that one moment Mike was clearly winning and the next he was on the ground. Something seems off about it. I fiddle with my knuckles. And yet, I did win. Whatever I did, it was successful.
I smile.
I won.
I have to say, hearing Mike’s back hit the ground the way mine did so many times is extremely satisfying.
I jog back to camp. I arrive just as Big Sal begins calling everyone together for lunch.
“We’re having stew! Hurry up, everyone! We don’t have all day!”
I hear the familiar pattern of everyone’s footsteps as they hurry to get in line. I take my place in the mob, quickly moving forward as Big Sal rapidly distributes lunch. I accept my bowl of stew and sit down next to Nathan.
“Hey, Nathan,” I greet him.
“Hey.”
“How’s your day been?”
“Pretty good. How about you?”
“Pretty good too, I guess.”
“Anything interesting happen today?”
“Um. No.”
I don’t know why I don’t tell Nathan about my victory, but it seems wrong to announce.
After lunch, Nathan and I head out to the Field of the Fallen again. We don’t speak and in the silence, my mind jumps from topic to topic, turning everything over several times and discarding it with lightning speed.
Did I really beat Mike? Yes. No. It doesn’t matter now. I don’t want to tell Nathan about it in case...I’m not sure why, but I think I’ll keep it a secret for now.
I said my ultimate goal was to die knowing I did right. If I died now… no, I still have to keep working.
Nathan said that we are all slaves to our own fears. What happens if we’re never afraid? Isn’t our greatest motivator fear? No, that’s terrible. But what is our greatest motivator?
Nathan has said other things, too.
Have you ever been in love, Molly? Denial. Oh.
He was looking at me through the fire. He was making eye contact. I wasn’t imagining it. But does it mean what I think it means, or?...
I can’t ignore this any longer.
“Hey, Nathan,” I ask cautiously. “Remember several days ago, you were teaching me to play guitar?”
“Yeah, of course. We should do that again.”
“Yes, we should,” I nod wholeheartedly. “Um...anyway, remember you, uh, you asked me about love?”
“Yes.”
“Um….Why?”
“Why did I ask?”
“Yes. I know I already asked, but...”
“Oh, um...I don’t know.” Nathan shrugs his shoulders unconvincingly. His eyes dart to the sides, almost as if he is making sure that nobody is eavesdropping. “I was just wondering, I suppose. Why do you ask?”
“Oh. I...was just wondering too, I guess.”
We continue walking. I suppose neither of us are willing to give up answers just like that.
“You said you’ve never been in love,” Nathan says.
“Yeah.”
“For all seventeen years of your life?”
“No,”
“You must have a reasonable amount of love in your heart. Where did it all go?”
“Huh. Um...Why do you think I have any love in my heart at all? I’m not sure I have any.”
Nathan laughs.
“Molly, very few people have no love in their hearts. You aren’t one of those people.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Um, alright then. Well, I...I loved my parents, if that counts.”
“Not exactly. I’m talking about something stronger.”
“Why doesn’t my love for my parents count as strong enough?”
“No, no, I didn’t mean it that way. I guess I just meant something...different.”
“Different. Well, suppose it turned into something else, then. I did feel strongly. Very strongly. I just...the only things I felt were hatred and fear. So I guess that’s where all my love went.”
Nathan frowns.
“And you never searched for anyone, huh?”
“No.”
“I have to ask: why?”
“Because I didn’t need anyone.”
Love, in the way Nathan means it, seems like a necessary emotion for everyone to experience, and yet it also seems that I managed to skip over it.
I never felt the need to love. I never wanted to love. I never had anyone to fall in love with.
“And you still don’t need anyone?”
“No.”
I’m lying.
I guess the truth is that I’m afraid to love. No, not exactly afraid...
The truth is, I don’t trust myself to jump.
CHAPTER 9
I continue to train with Mike. After I defeated him that once, I haven’t been able to do it again. Mike defeats me time and time again, seemingly with progressively greater ease. I feel that I am only getting worse. With every fight that I end up on the ground, I am more and more convinced that Mike let me win.
Of course. That makes sense. Mike felt that I needed a moral boost and so he tripped over his own feet and let me think that I was improving. I feel like a child for not seeing that earlier and even more of a child for making him feel that I needed it.
And yet it doesn’t seem like something that
Mike would do. Why would he let me believe that I am capable of winning if I am not? Mike’s style of training is to train everybody to the ground until they can defeat their opponents in their sleep. Nothing less is acceptable.
So why this sudden change? I am almost certain that I didn’t win fairly. The sound of my back against the ground echoes my thoughts.
“Let’s take a break for now,” Mike’s voice says from above. I pop up and rub my tense muscles.
“Hey, Mike?”
“Yes?”
“Three days ago, did you let me win on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“Oh…” I murmur in disappointment. I was still hoping that he would deny it. “Why, exactly?”
“What is the most important thing about these fights, do you think?”
“The most important thing? Winning?”
Mike sighs.
“Really? Do you really think so?”
“Well…” I understand that winning is the wrong answer, but I’m not sure what else to say. “What do you think?”
“Aha. You don’t know. Well, since you brought it up, let us talk about winning and losing a little. In life, would you say that your success is measured by wins and losses?”
“I guess n- Actually...well, yeah, to some degree, at least. Yes, it is. It has to be. Success is partially the ratio of your wins to your losses.”
“That is an acceptable point,” Mike nods. “But then tell me: who - or what - is your greatest opponent?”
“Huh?”
“In order to win or lose, you have to defeat something or someone, correct? So what are you defeating?”
I pause and frown. That’s a new question. I quickly fire the first answers that come to mind.
“Injustice? The C.G.B.?”
“Really? Your greatest opponent?” Mike raises his eyebrows subtly.
“Death?”
Mike only raises his eyebrows a millimeter more.
“Really?”
He looks into my eyes and for some reason, I step back.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, looking at my feet.
“Hmm. Then tell me, how can you win against an opponent you’re not even sure exists?”
“Umm...I never thought of it that way.”
“Hmm. Well let’s start at the beginning. Are you sure you’re fighting anything?”