Dancing with the Sun

by Kay Bratt

  “Where ya headed?” the guy asked.

  She had to give him credit. He didn’t comment on their differences or come up with some totally inappropriate adoption comment. Still, she didn’t want him to know their plans. She tried to elbow Lauren discreetly, but before she could get her point across, Lauren answered.

  “Tenaya Lake,” she said.

  He nodded. “Kinda overpopulated in my opinion, but it’s stunning all the same and a good thing to knock off your bucket list. Be careful. There’s been a lot of rain, and there’s still a few slippery spots on the way. And don’t let the weather fool you. It’s supposed to get cold tonight. I thought I saw some clouds gathering.”

  He looked at Lauren’s pack and then at Sadie’s lack of one. His eyes trailed down to her white canvas shoes. “You two don’t look real prepared.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Sadie spoke up. “I saw the weather this morning, and it said there was only a ten percent chance of rain. We won’t be out here long, either way. But we’d better get going. Right, Lauren?”

  “Yeah, but hey—have a great day, and thanks for the tips,” Lauren said.

  Of course Lauren didn’t pick up on Sadie’s wariness about the guy. Her daughter needed a lesson in keeping her guard up around strangers.

  “Sure you don’t need a guide? I know these trails like the back of my hand,” he said. “It can be unpredictable out there.”

  “No, we’re good,” Sadie said quickly. “My husband’s waiting for us up ahead.”

  She thought her lie would help him get the hint and move, but he didn’t.

  “Do you work for Yosemite?” Lauren asked.

  Sadie could’ve wrung her neck.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Before I try to get a job with them, I’m taking my time to get to know the park. But I worked as a fishing guide two years for Yellowstone. I got to travel around a bit and learned wilderness survival by firsthand experiences.”

  “That sounds like an amazing job. I’m jealous,” Lauren said. “I used to fish a lot with my dad. I’m not too bad at it either.”

  “We need to get moving,” Sadie interjected. The two of them were getting too cozy with the conversation.

  He shifted, looking suddenly concerned.

  Sadie took a step back.

  “Did you bring a jacket?” he asked Lauren, completely ignoring Sadie now, and she felt like giving him the lecture he deserved.

  “No, I didn’t bring a jacket. It’s almost seventy degrees out here,” Lauren said, laughing in the way a young woman flirting with a young man laughed. She held an arm in the air. “And I’ve got sleeves.”

  “Wait a second,” he said, bending down to reach into his bag.

  “Come on, Lauren,” Sadie said, having visions of him pulling out a gun or knife, then holding them hostage. He’d tie her up and take her daughter, then disappear into the wilderness, never to be seen again.

  Sadie had to smother her urge to grab Lauren and run.

  But of course her daughter, being the too-trusting soul she was, didn’t budge. Instead she waited politely for a complete stranger to present something sinister to them both.

  Sadie held her breath, afraid to move.

  Nature Boy rummaged through for a second, then pulled out something soft looking and purple. He tossed it, and Lauren caught it.

  “At least take that,” he said. “When you get back to Olmsted Point, leave it on the ledge with a rock on it. I’ll be back by to pick it up tonight. The temperatures drop quickly here, and I don’t want you to be caught off guard.”

  “Thanks,” Lauren said, stuffing the jacket into her bag. “I appreciate that.”

  He nodded, then stepped aside, letting them pass. “I’m Kyle,” he said.

  “Lauren.”

  Sadie could tell he wasn’t expecting her to give her name. It was probably the look of distrust plastered all over her face. He knew that she knew he was only interested in Lauren.

  They walked by, and when they were a few feet away, Sadie thumped Lauren on the back of the shoulder. “You shouldn’t have told him your name or where we were going,” she hissed, then took the lead.

  “Stop being so paranoid, Mom. Not everyone is out to get us. And let me lead. You have no idea where to go, and you don’t want to leave your husband waiting too long, do you?”

  They traded places yet again, though Sadie didn’t like it. When they’d gone twenty feet or so, she turned to see where the young man had gone, and he was still there, leaning against a tree as he watched them walk away.

  He gave her a slow grin and saluted.

  She turned quickly around, not even responding. She wanted to get Lauren as far from him as possible. She leaned in to her daughter. “Come on, Lauren. Let’s go. And don’t even think about putting that jacket on. Who knows what sort of crawlies he’s carrying.”

  Something about him made her very nervous, and she hoped he went the other way—like about a million miles the other way. Now it was twice in one day that her gut had given her a message, but at least this time she had listened.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Most people talked about the peace and serenity they felt while walking in the woods, but for the first few minutes, Sadie had bouts of feeling less than namaste. With each mysterious noise around her, she flinched, almost expecting to see some hillbilly jump out from behind a tree or a wild animal leap out of one. The forest might be a haven to many, but Sadie saw too many places and opportunities for someone or something to hide. As they went, she felt exposed and at a disadvantage to whatever lurked just beyond her view.

  But there were a few good moments too. With Lauren’s encouragement, she finally promised to try to put her paranoia aside and told herself—demanded, really—to embrace the moment and make it a day that Lauren could count as a good one with her mother.

  She paused once to catch her breath. She looked up at a tall tree, amazed at the majestic height it held. Soon, the feel of the trail under her feet, a lush carpet of pine needles and leaves from the trees, made the trek buoyant and easy and worked to soothe her restlessness.

  To add to the experience, the birdcalls and tweets made a natural orchestra, a pleasant background and change from the constant onslaught of news that she was accustomed to as background noise while she worked. The fresh air was invigorating too. Despite the occasional feeling of light-headedness from the altitude, she couldn’t believe how much her sinuses had already opened just from a short time outdoors.

  She thought of Tom and all his camping trips, imagining him hiking the same sort of trail, just as excited to be there as Lauren was. He would be in his element, joyous over every tiny discovery that he came upon.

  He had often chosen the outdoors as his sanctuary after Jacob’s death. Still did, actually. Sadie had gone a different route, choosing to isolate herself indoors as much as she could, hiding away from prying eyes as she pretended she was just fine.

  She’d moved through those first months feeling as though she were encased in a plastic bubble. She could hear and see what went on around her, even robotically participate in work and homelife, but she hadn’t felt anything.

  When the numbness had begun to fade and she’d finally started to feel again, too many people had continued to ask her what they could do to help.

  Bring my child back, she’d wanted to say. But she’d been raised with manners, and though she’d felt more angry and frustrated with every uninvited hug and murmur of “Everything happens for a reason” or the worst one, “Heaven got another angel,” she’d mostly kept her tongue civil and suffered silently.

  Then there’d been the friends and family who had unknowingly reopened her wound with their unintended recriminations, asking her how the accident could’ve happened, who was supposed to be supervising, and why hadn’t they had safeguards put into place. She’d let them talk. Let them stand high and mighty in the knowledge that they’d never lost a child, so they must be a better parent, a better person even. She’d
let them have that because she deserved the passive-aggressive treatment, and nothing anyone could say would be harsher than the blame that Sadie already carried.

  Tom hadn’t even known the extent of her grief, because of course, she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. At least not at first. He had asked her to go to therapy with him. She’d shot that down immediately. She hadn’t been able to share her pain. Hadn’t wanted to try.

  “If you won’t go with me, at least go alone,” he’d said more times than she could count.

  Sadie had occasionally considered it, but it just never felt right.

  Then, by the time she’d been ready to even consider couple’s therapy, the doors had all been closed and communication between them something too hard and exhausting to try to navigate again.

  “Just wait until you see it, Mom,” Lauren said, her voice somewhat muffled from a few feet ahead. “It’s the most pristine body of water—like glass—and it’s surrounded by the granite domes. The massive pine trees in the distance frame it like a picture.”

  “I thought you haven’t been there?” Sadie slapped at a mosquito that landed on her wrist.

  Lauren laughed, turning her head to the side to glance back.

  “I haven’t. I read that on this hiker’s blog I follow. She’s done every trail in Yosemite.”

  It sounded to Sadie as though Lauren had a dream of becoming a real hiker. It might be cruel to limit her, but she found herself relieved that the internship had kept her daughter too busy to be traipsing around national parks much.

  “Don’t touch every limb or vine you see, Mom. Some of them have thorns,” Lauren said, pointing out one particularly hairy-looking vine that crossed their path. She ducked under it, then carefully held it for Sadie to do the same.

  Lauren was being protective of her, something Sadie didn’t need, but it made her feel good all the same. She thought about how since her daughter was experiencing more life on her own, without her constant supervision, their roles were changing. The expected leader was becoming less defined, and Lauren no longer let Sadie make every decision. That made it easier to see who Lauren would evolve into later in life.

  So yes, even though she was on guard, having time with Lauren felt pleasant, and she tried hard to keep her worries silent so that it would turn out to be a good memory. How many times did one get to take a walk in the wilds of Yosemite with their daughter, after all? Sadie didn’t want to ruin it, even if she did feel an almost magnetic pull to turn around and head back to the car.

  But it was just a few hours out of their day; then she’d be able to tell Lauren the news, enjoy some time together—somewhere in civilization—and get back home, where she could begin the dreaded process of leaving. On the flight over, she’d considered asking to stay in the house, but then decided against it. What she needed was a fresh start. Somewhere that memories didn’t haunt her from every corner. If Tom cooperated, she could buy a condo. Maybe even at a beach, if she could find a hospital position to transfer to. Lauren might even visit more often, since the lure of the surf was something her generation found hard to resist.

  Lauren stopped for a minute, then turned and looked behind them.

  “What’s wrong?” Sadie asked.

  “Nothing. Just making sure we’re on the right path. There’s a lot of unofficial trails that start at Olmsted, but I think this is the way.”

  “You think? Lauren—”

  “Kidding, Mom. We’re fine. I swear. Just keep following.”

  Lauren might have said she was kidding, but Sadie had her doubts. However, they’d already passed a sign that said Snow Creek was only 1.6 miles away. They’d gone the way the arrow pointed, so they should be on the right track.

  Sadie followed, occasionally getting a word or two in when Lauren took a breath from telling her about Cooper or the new friends she’d made. It was interesting to hear about the others in the program who came from all walks of life, from scholarship kids to trust fund babies—all coming together in Yosemite to add one more life experience to their budding resumes.

  “We do a lot together in the evenings, especially on the weekends,” Lauren said. “We usually end up doing some kind of role-playing for survival situations.”

  “Like what? Getting lost in the wilderness?”

  “No, we haven’t done that one yet. So far we’ve done a plane crash, then what to do if a tsunami is coming. Oh, and last Friday we did sea survival.”

  “How does it work?”

  “It goes like this. Say we’re on an excursion from Tahiti to Australia, and our boat strikes a coral reef. It starts taking on water. For the role-play we had to break into two teams and rank a dozen items in the order of importance for our team’s survival.”

  “That sounds fun,” Sadie said, though she wasn’t sure why they weren’t acting out wilderness-survival situations in the first place. However, anything that took precedence over beer pong and skinny-dipping was fine with her. At least they were figuring out some sort of life skills. “I think my first priority would be a flotation device.”

  “But what if you don’t have one? Or can’t find one? Then what?” Lauren asked, smiling a sneaky grin.

  “A boat seat?”

  She shook her head. “The boat sank before you could get it. It’s just you bobbing along in the vast blue sea now.”

  “Then I don’t know.”

  Lauren stopped walking and turned to her. “Cooper is the only one who figured out a solution. He said if you’re wearing pants, you slip out of them. Or shorts if that’s all you have. Try to tie knots in the legs, hold them up into the air, and then sink them waist first into the water. They’ll inflate. Not ideal—but at least something if that’s all you have.”

  “Good to know. I’ll remember that if I’m ever stranded at sea with only a pair of pants to work with,” Sadie said. “I guess you didn’t discuss what happens when the sharks are looking for a snack.”

  Lauren nodded. “Oh yeah, we figured that out too. In that situation, you grab your ankles and kiss your butt goodbye.”

  They both laughed, but then a twig breaking to the side of the trail sounded overly loud, and Sadie looked but saw no one—or nothing. She hoped they’d left Kyle far behind. Then she remembered there might be worse things out there than a too-friendly human trail mate.

  Lauren ignored the noise and began taking the lead again.

  “Well, on that note, has the university given you any training about what to do if you run into wild animals?” she asked casually, trying to hide the edge in her voice.

  “Of course. Just yesterday we talked about mountain lions. They seem to be the most common threat around here. Last summer, there was a family camping, and a mountain lion tried to take off with their four-year-old daughter. Was dragging her by her head, and the mother fought it off by kicking at it until it let go and ran.”

  “Well, that’s lovely,” Sadie said. A vision of a large cougar creeping silently through the trees filled her head. She’d always heard if you saw a mountain lion in the wild, then it had already decided to let you live.

  Lauren shrugged. “She survived. But if we see a mountain lion out here, there’s no point in trying to hide.”

  “Hide?” She slapped at another mosquito that landed on her arm. At this rate, she’d need a few pints of blood to replenish herself if and when they ever got out of there.

  Lauren gave a small laugh. “Yes. Some people think they can just skirt behind a few trees or something, but if there’s an aggressive mountain lion in the vicinity and he’s found a reason to be pissed off at you, he’ll hunt you down and find you. The best thing to do is make a lot of noise. Our instructor said to make it seem like you are bigger than you really are, and you’re angry. Cuss and scream, bang pots together, or whatever.”

  Sadie thought of her shiny red saucepans that were hanging idly from her pot rack at home. Then she was reminded of her bed, the crisp, clean sheets and down-filled comforter that she loved to sink into after
her bath. With the vision of the mountain lion trying to drag off a child still lingering, she suddenly wished she was home instead of traipsing behind her daughter.

  With coincidental timing, they passed a sign warning hikers of bears.

  “But if we see a bear,” she said. “Then what?”

  Lauren was breathing faster now; the trail was harder and was taking its toll. Behind her, Sadie tried to keep her own panting to a minimum. It was embarrassing how out of shape she was.

  “Mom, stop worrying. Black bears don’t eat meat. They like berries and acorns—natural stuff that doesn’t involve human flesh. If we see one, we just retreat slowly. If he charges, be ready to climb a tree.”

  Sadie hated that tone of voice. It was the exasperated one her daughter used when she was just a hair away from shutting herself behind her bedroom door.

  “I’m not worrying. I’m trying to be proactive. Here, drink some of this water,” she said, handing the bottle up to her.

  Lauren took off the cap and swigged the water before handing it back. “Our instructor said they only have to put down one to two bears a year for posing a threat to visitors of the park. I seriously doubt in over a thousand miles of mountains and valleys, the one hungry people-eating bear is going to find you. But if it does, just pretend to be a raving lunatic to frighten it away.”

  “If a bear comes at us, I won’t have to pretend,” Sadie said under her breath. She remembered the pepper spray she’d pushed down into her back pocket. It wasn’t bear spray, and she’d never tested it, but hopefully if she was forced to use it, it would work. She marveled to herself that just yesterday she’d been surfing the web, trying to find ways to overcome the loneliness of a child-free home, and now she was a thousand miles from that empty house, life-altering news on the tip of her tongue as her daughter led her into the wilds of Yosemite.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I’d like to see if I can find a few pine beetles. I want to see what they look like in the wild,” Lauren said as she stopped in front of a tall pine tree and looked into the branches she spread apart. She moved gracefully and worked her way through several branches as though she’d done it many times before.