by Kay Bratt
Sadie nodded. “I can understand that. You can read about or watch documentaries all day long, but until you see something with your own eyes, it won’t have the same impact.”
“But she had to come back home because even though she looked more like them and fit easily into the landscape, she felt like she wasn’t Chinese enough for the locals to accept her. They treated her like a celebrity, always making a fuss at how good her English was and then were disappointed when she didn’t embrace their ways fast enough. But she said she’s different because of the experience. Now she’s afraid she’s changed so much she’s going to disappoint her parents.”
“It sounds like she’s really confused,” Sadie said. The story made her sad. For Lauren’s friend but also for Lauren, who might be mirroring her friend’s feelings. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something else you want to say.”
“I don’t want to find them,” Lauren said softly, seeming to read Sadie’s mind.
Sadie shrugged. It was time to say the words. Way past time. “Maybe not right now. But if and when you ever do, I’ll be right there beside you, doing what I can to help or just holding your hand. I would be so proud if your birth parents got to see what an amazing young woman you turned out to be.”
Lauren’s eyes filled, and she looked away, slapping at the mosquitos that had begun to congregate around them. When she turned back to Sadie, the shimmer of tears was still there.
“You and Dad are my parents. You know that, right? You’ll always be my mom.”
Now Sadie had to fight back tears. “I do know that.”
They let the conversation fall away as they both composed themselves. Sadie stood and brushed her hands off on her jeans, then picked up a rock and threw it into the fire. She watched the sparks, an eruption that flared and then just as quickly faded away.
Why was it so hard to talk about Lauren’s first family? She wished she hadn’t made it that way. If she could go back in time, she would’ve done things differently. She would’ve found a way to make communication easier.
“Mom?” Lauren said.
Sadie turned to her.
“Can we just go see where I was found? Maybe check out the neighborhood? See if anyone looks like me?” Lauren suddenly looked eight years old again and full of hope.
Sadie laughed lightly, glad the atmosphere was lighter. “Oh, you’ll see a lot of people who look like you. We can do anything you want. We’ll take one of those heritage tours or, if you’d rather, just figure it all out ourselves. After we explore your hometown, we can take a train to Beijing and walk on the Great Wall. We can even see the terra-cotta soldiers you wrote about for your fourth grade final project. It will be our first solo adventure together.”
“What do you call this, Mom?” Lauren said, standing and gesturing around her. She picked up a few branches and tossed them on the fire. “You wouldn’t say we’re having an adventure right now?”
“Good point,” Sadie said. “Okay, China will be our second adventure, then. We can start planning it right now. It’s not as though we have anything else to do at the moment.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When the sun was high in the sky, directly over their heads, Sadie was hoarse and tired of talking. Her eyes burned from the smoldering pine, and she fought the urge to cry. She was so thirsty. She just could not do it again. Could not lay awake all night, guarding her daughter from bears, mountain lions, and the pits of despair.
But she supposed if she had to, she would. Because that was what mothers did. They kept going even when they felt like dropping or hiding or just fading away into oblivion. Motherhood wasn’t for sissies; Sadie knew that for sure.
She also knew what had triggered her into this new mood of dark thoughts. Earlier they’d heard a helicopter in the sky and jumped to their feet, standing on the tips of their toes as they screamed for all they were worth. They couldn’t see the aircraft, but had it seen them? The not knowing felt worse than they could imagine.
As the sound dissipated, Lauren fell to the ground and sobbed.
Sadie had comforted her, but inside, she felt like doing the same. Lauren had been embarrassed at her outburst, and after a few minutes they’d both gone silent, lost in their own little worlds of disappointment in a totally new level of hopelessness.
“Mom,” Lauren said, jerking Sadie out of the long line of what-ifs she was concocting in her head.
“What?”
“I didn’t want to tell you this before, but in our survival class they warned us that there are an average of twelve to fifteen deaths a year in Yosemite.” Her words were soft but full of fear.
“We are not going to die, Lauren,” Sadie said. She moved closer to Lauren and put her arm around her, feigning the confidence she definitely didn’t feel.
“You don’t know that. We could be crushed by a falling tree. Attacked by that bear. Or simply waste away from hunger or thirst. No one will find us until there’s nothing but bones. I don’t want to die. I want to get married one day. Have kids. See China, like you promised. This isn’t fair.” She started crying, her shoulders heaving from the effort.
“Lauren, stop. This line of conversation isn’t helping us keep up our spirits, and you’re losing precious hydration in those tears,” Sadie said, trying to lighten the mood. She rubbed Lauren’s back. Her daughter was at the end of her rope, Lauren’s usual optimistic attitude replaced with one of doom. But could Sadie blame her?
Finally, Lauren composed herself. She used the end of her T-shirt to wipe her nose. Sadie cringed but didn’t comment. It wasn’t as though they had a box of Kleenex nearby.
“You okay now?” she asked.
Lauren nodded. “I’m sorry for being a baby. I don’t want to spend another night out here, and my thoughts started running away. I need to occupy my mind with something else.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Sadie didn’t want to talk, but she’d do whatever it took to keep Lauren calm.
“So are you ready for the news I wanted to tell you?” Lauren asked. “I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“Of course.” Though everything in her was definitely not ready, Sadie braced herself, hoping that it was only an engagement she’d have to talk Lauren out of and, God forbid, not an unplanned pregnancy to deal with.
“I’m changing my major,” Lauren said, her tone wary as she grimaced, anticipating Sadie’s reaction.
“Your major?” Sadie couldn’t believe her ears.
“Yes. I’m not interested in marketing anymore, Mom. I want to be a naturalist.”
At first the words didn’t really settle, but when Sadie played them over in her mind, she felt her body sag in relief, the tautness it had held in anticipation disappearing instantly. “I’m not sure I know what that is,” she said, buying time as she considered all that she’d done to pave the way for Lauren to follow her into the field of marketing.
“Just like the author of my book. John Muir. And the female park ranger I told you about. I’ll be in the field of botany and study plants in their natural environment. Maybe work in a park like this one day.”
Sadie knew she should be angry. Or at the very least concerned at this sudden, unexpected detour. But she didn’t feel any of that. The announcement of a change of major might have really upset her a few days before, but not now, in this moment of craziness.
She laughed. Long and hard.
“Why are you laughing?” Lauren sounded mad now.
When Sadie could get her breath, she answered. “Because we are lost in the wilderness. We’ve been stalked by a bear. We’re hungry. Thirsty. And praying for rescue. And you want to be a naturalist?”
It sounded so absurd that Lauren began to laugh too.
Sadie laughed not only at the irony of her daughter’s declaration but with relief that though life was changing in a way, it wasn’t something catastrophic. There was
no marriage proposal. No unwanted pregnancy.
Unlike her mother, her daughter wasn’t having a crisis of life.
This was simple. A change of college major was something Sadie could easily handle. After all she’d been through in the last three days, a detour in Lauren’s career path was nothing.
When they finally got their delirium under control, Sadie’s logic came creeping back.
“When did you decide this?” she asked, wiping at the tears of mirth that crept out the corners of her eyes.
“About three weeks into my internship. But I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I’d get over it and be able to just do what you want me to do, but the truth is I just love being outside. And I cannot fathom being boxed into a cubicle or within the walls of a corporate building for the rest of my life. I want to feel the air, see the sky, and touch the earth. Can you understand?”
Her gaze was pleading, and Sadie nodded, though she wasn’t completely sold on the idea.
She thought of something else. “Hmm. Isn’t Cooper taking botany?”
Lauren nodded. “But before you start thinking it, he hasn’t influenced me. It’s always been there, my love for plants and flowers. And I’m curious about insects and animals too. How they survive and even thrive in the hardest of conditions.”
“So what’s next?” Sadie said. “Where do we go from here? This is going to impact your graduating schedule, you know.”
“I know, but a lot of my core classes will still apply. And my university is offering a fall course here for upcoming naturalists. I want to take it. They’ll use Yosemite for study, and if I complete the course, I’ll be qualified to get a part-time job at the reserve teaching schoolkids or helping out with field trips.”
“So once we get out of here, you’ll have a leg up,” Sadie said, her tone teasing.
“I guess you could say that,” Lauren said. “Mom, I’m really blown away. I can’t tell you how much.”
“By what?”
“By your reaction. I expected you to veto the idea first thing.” She narrowed her eyes. “I was prepared to stand my ground, though.”
Sadie laughed. “I bet you were. You might have a little of my stubbornness in there. It’s like this, Lauren. If I’ve learned nothing else on this adventure, it’s that life is short, and we need to pursue what makes us happy.”
“Does that mean you too?”
Her question made Sadie pause. “It’s too late for me to go back and undo my mistakes. But just like you plan to do, I can move forward in a new path.”
She thought of Tom and the pledge she’d made to herself to walk away and let him find his peace. What was he doing right now? Had he even missed her?
Because of the roaring of the waterfall behind them and the constant chirps of birds and insects, they never heard the first inkling of visitors, yet suddenly a man came walking out of the grove of trees they sat opposite from. Sadie didn’t have time to react before two more appeared right behind him.
It was a rescue team, obvious by their matching jackets. They trudged into camp, looking like a mirage as they approached.
The moment was surreal, and like Lauren, Sadie was speechless.
“Mrs. Harlan?” the man called out. “Are you Sadie and Lauren Harlan?”
They came close enough for Sadie to see their faces clearly.
All she could think was thank God they were real. It wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
Sadie finally found her voice. “Yes. Yes. That’s us.”
She turned to Lauren, and they both burst into tears and threw their arms around each other.
The man approached them and held a hand out.
Sadie dropped an arm from around Lauren and clasped his fingers, holding tightly as though he were a lifeline.
“My name is Sam Mills, and I’m with the Yosemite Search and Rescue. We’re here to get you out of here,” he said. When Sadie let go of him, he reached into his bag and pulled out two bottles of water, one for each of them. “Sip it slowly while we evaluate your injuries.”
He was young—at least decade younger than she—but he was strong. And confident. He had the warmest eyes, and she felt comforted immediately. Their tears turned to laughter. Sadie was filled with disbelief. She’d hoped for rescue so hard over the last days, but since they’d come to the waterfall, that hope had quietly dwindled.
“How did you find us?” she said as the team gathered around them. Sadie pointed out Lauren’s ankle, and one began to tend to it. Another grabbed Sadie’s wrist, feeling her pulse.
“It was twofold. First, another hiker alerted us that he saw you guys go in and didn’t think you came out. He waited a full four hours after nightfall, then called us, claiming you were in no way prepared for a night out here.”
“Mom, it was the guy who gave us the jacket. Kyle,” Lauren said. Her eyes were widened with shock; then her familiar I-told-you-so expression took over.
Sadie felt a flash of guilt for misjudging him. Sounded like they would’ve been on their own a lot longer if not for him.
“The hiker was concerned enough to insist we start searching for you immediately, but we had no record of you being in here, so we didn’t get approval until yesterday,” the man said. “Your husband was already in town, having filed a missing person report after your daughter didn’t respond to his text messages. He let us know who we were looking for. He’s been pretty worried, and he wasn’t happy about not being able to join in the search.”
Sadie thought of Tom. He’d come looking for Lauren. Thank God for that father-daughter bond that pushed him to react quickly.
“No more questions for now. Let’s get you two ready for extraction. Oh, and I almost forgot. Spelling out HELP out on the precipice was a huge factor in leading us to your location. Our park rescue pilot saw it after he followed the white smoke today. Good job.”
Sadie breathed deeply, embarrassed at the new onslaught of tears. But this time they were tears of relief. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and reached over and hugged her daughter again.
Sam walked a few feet away and called out on his walkie-talkie, giving coordinates to someone on the other end.
When they were ready to move, he took the lead, and the other men followed up behind them. “We’re going west. We’ll follow the sun.”
They were given energy bars and a little more water. Then, with two men leading the way and Sam between her and Lauren, they set off to finally get out of Yosemite. The medic had wrapped Lauren’s ankle with a proper bandage. He gave her a set of crutches he pulled from a bag and unfolded, allowing her to walk for herself, much preferred over the stretcher the team leader had first offered her. Lauren insisted she was walking out on her own two legs. Considering she had been making do with Sadie for a crutch, she proved to be really efficient with the real things, despite the rugged terrain.
“Just around this bend, we’ll hit a hidden trail that’ll put us on a more common route,” Sam said as he led them through the thick brush opposite to where they’d come through the day before.
Sadie felt the heat creep up her neck, embarrassed that obviously they hadn’t been too far from a path they should’ve taken. If she’d only explored a bit more before giving up. She’d thought the waterfall and drop-off were the end of the line for them. Now she knew they could’ve kept going.
“Your boyfriend is up there too,” Sam said, teasing Lauren. “He has probably worn a hole in the cabin floor by now.”
Lauren beamed.
But then she was back to her usual inquisitive self. She wanted to know all the details of how many rescue members were out there. How many dogs. Helicopters. Was the rescue team out at night, or did they stop at sundown? She was full of questions, pelting them as though she were writing a headlining story.
Sadie assumed she was cataloging it all so she could recount it to her friends, an adventure of the utmost drama.
“Just one chopper, but overall it’s been a pretty big outfit,”
Sam said. “You threw us off a few times. Our dogs picked up your scent in a lot of different places. Why’d you go so far instead of staying put once you didn’t know where you were?”
Yeah, why didn’t we? Sadie thought. She listened as Lauren told him about the bear feasting on the fawn, discussing further that it wasn’t that surprising, as studies showed bears to be opportunistic predators who would eat what they stumbled upon—everything from carrion to nuts and berries to live animals.
Naturalist talk, Sadie assumed. It was going to take some getting used to for her to imagine her daughter’s future within the distant boundaries of the wilderness. She still saw her sitting behind a desk in a fancy corporate building, wearing a power suit and leading a team of direct reports.
But it was Lauren’s life, and Sadie was ready to step back and let her daughter take charge of her own destiny.
“Let’s rest for a minute,” Sam said, leading Lauren to a fairly large rock to rest on.
“I’d rather just keep going,” she said.
Sadie leaned on the rock next to Lauren. She patted her leg, reassuring her. “We’ll get there. Nothing to worry about now.”
The other rescue members stopped a few paces from them and pulled canteens out to drink from.
Sam came to stand with them and asked if they carried a map, a compass, or a cell phone. Sadie hung her head, silent and mortified at her incompetence.
Lauren answered his questions, admitting that she was at fault for being so unprepared.
“I knew better too, Lauren,” Sadie said gently.
“But I convinced you,” Lauren whispered back.
Thankfully Sam was a gentleman and declined to shame them further. Sadie was relieved. There would be enough humiliation once the public picked up on the story and found out what a careless mother she’d been.
“Well, we found you, and that’s what matters now,” Sam said, picking up the role as a mediator.
“I still can’t believe it,” Sadie said. “How did you know where to go?”
Sam pointed toward the west. “One team took the standard Tenaya Canyon descent, and the other picked up your trail where you descended east of Yasoo Dome. But everyone out here has been looking. We even have a ranger on horseback, and he’s been covering a lot off the beaten paths. The hikers are vigilant too. Oh, and your husband took charge of a team who posted flyers at the dining halls and all over different camps. It’s been a flurry of activity to find you two.”