by Erin Bartels
But Olivia was family. Or . . . maybe not. Family was there for you. Family supported you. Family sacrificed for you. Family loved you.
Did Olivia love her? Did Olivia love anyone?
As Melanie turned this over in her head, she came upon Josh standing in the middle of the trail.
He pointed down toward the river. “Shining Cloud Falls. Better vantage point down there.”
Melanie hesitated.
“Come on. We’re all going down there for a break and a snack.”
She reluctantly stepped off the trail down a depression that had clearly been made by many other hikers over the years hoping for a better look at the falls. She slipped out of her pack and stretched her back muscles, keeping some distance between her and her sister, who was standing near the river. She busied herself retrieving a snack from her dwindling food supply, found a flat spot on the ground, and sat. Olivia’s body obscured the view, but Melanie said nothing. Eventually her sister too took off her pack and settled down to eat, and Melanie could see the falls clearly.
Shining Cloud was not one fall but two, crashing down side by side, separated by an outcropping of rock. The one on the right fell straight down off a ledge before it hit more resistant rock and bounced off of it and into the basin below. The one on the left cascaded lazily down a more gradual decline like the flowing white hair of some wise woodland wizard. Strange that so many of the park’s waterfalls were actually two falls, split by hard rock. Melanie might have found the idea friendly a few days ago. Now it seemed lonely.
As though he knew what she was thinking about, Josh said, “A couple days ago right after all that rain, I bet you couldn’t see that rock in the middle there.”
“Really?” Melanie said.
“Sure.” He took a swig of water. “A higher volume of water can change a river’s behavior dramatically. During the spring thaw this river is pretty wild. At the end of summer, it’s usually calmed down a bit. Except when you get a big weather event like we just had. The more pressure you put on the waterway with extra rain or snowmelt, the faster and harder it all flows down out to the lake. Makes for some nice white water and waterfalls. But of course it makes the crossings trickier.”
“Are we crossing the river today?” Melanie said.
“Twice,” Josh said. “In about two miles and then again in a little less than that.”
“Why don’t they just keep the trail on one side of it?”
“Well, when you’re cutting a trail, you’re probably taking a few things into account. One, the lay of the land. Some spots are just easier to tame than others. Two, the trails may have already been there in some form long before this was a state park. There was commercial copper mining going on here before the Civil War, and before that the Ojibwe were mining with hand tools. Even the wildlife makes trails. By the time park rangers were cutting and maintaining trails, some of this was already mapped out.”
“There was mining way out here?” Melanie said. “It’s hard enough to get around with a backpack. I can’t imagine trying to get supplies in and copper out.”
“They sure tried. The mines in this area weren’t nearly as successful as those up near Houghton and Calumet. Most of them couldn’t make the numbers work. But there are several marked mine shafts scattered around the park. And dozens more unmarked. You’ll be near one today before you get up on the escarpment.”
Melanie didn’t care for the way he said “you” rather than “we.” She knew he intended to fish the salmon run today, but naturally they would accompany him, wouldn’t they?
All this time, Olivia had sat with her back to them. Surely she’d say something now, just to clarify the plans for the day. Or did she already know? Had she and Josh talked it over in the tent while Melanie lay awake in the hammock?
Olivia said nothing. Just tucked her food bag back into her pack and strapped it on her back. Josh, Melanie now realized, had never taken his pack off, nor had he eaten anything.
“Do you want a granola bar or something?” Melanie offered.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m good.”
Olivia was already heading back up to the trail, and Melanie scrambled to ready herself for more walking. Trudging, really. Putting one miserable foot in front of the other until they hit pavement. Then it would be over. Mostly.
They left the picturesque river and ascended a steep hill. Over the next hour they made their way over fairly level, if often soggy, ground beneath towering hemlock trees. When they had stopped in at the visitor center before starting the hike, Melanie had read in one of the displays that the Porcupine Mountains contained the largest stand of virgin hardwood and hemlock forest left between the Rockies and the Adirondacks. Trees saved from the clutches of the country’s insatiable hunger for lumber by the rugged landscape beneath her feet. Some of these trees must have been standing watch when the Ojibwe were extracting copper from the rocks.
As she passed by some of the bigger trees, Melanie laid her hands on them, trying to feel the life and the memory within, trying to reclaim her sense of oneness with the natural world. Trying to see eagles where Olivia saw vultures. Yet all she felt beneath her hands was the rough texture of the bark, a completely practical and unmagical covering that protected the tree from bugs and fungus.
They made the first crossing, which was more difficult than any of the others had been despite Josh’s steadying hand. More than once Melanie might have gone down were it not for his help. On the other side they ate a quick lunch and carried on, following the river upstream until they entered a low-lying area that was quite wet and rather unpleasant because of it. This section seemed to stretch on forever, and as Melanie slogged through she tried to make up her mind what to do about Justin.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached the river again for the second crossing.
“Last time you’ll have to do this,” Josh said brightly as Melanie and Olivia removed their boots.
Rather than cross barefoot this time, Josh pulled on his waders before helping Melanie across. As she dried her feet and pulled on her socks and boots, he gave Olivia’s hand a firm shake.
“Well, this is it,” he said. “This is where I leave you.”
Olivia’s father pulled a large blue cooler from the back of the Explorer. “You got that, Justin?”
“Yep.”
Olivia watched her dad watch Justin lug the cooler down the sandy path toward the beach.
“He’s fine, Dad,” she said, hoisting a beach chair under each arm.
“I still think he should see a doctor.”
Olivia followed Justin’s footsteps down the path but couldn’t help overhearing her mother say, “He probably doesn’t have insurance.”
And, Olivia thought, he doesn’t want anyone poking around in his life. He’d told her the truth, but when her parents asked her about his limp, she told them he’d come off a dirt bike. They didn’t need to know that he didn’t even own a dirt bike. They didn’t need to know that his dad had reappeared after six months of unexplained absence and attempted to rob his own house for drug money. That Justin had fought him off with nothing but the baseball bat he’d won at a Whitecaps game her parents had invited him to last year, twisting an ankle in the process.
Olivia gave her head a firm shake. Forget about that now. Today was just supposed to be fun.
Melanie ran past her toward the beach, carrying nothing at all. She peeled her shirt and shorts off, kicked off her flip-flops, and high-stepped it over the scalding sand into the endless blue of Lake Michigan.
With no help from Melanie, who was busy diving through waves and occasionally screeching, the rest of the family—and Justin—laid out blankets and chairs and towels. Sunscreen was applied, handing off the tube and getting each other’s backs. Mom and Dad. Olivia and Justin. As always. Only this year there was something about Justin touching her bare back that sent little chills up Olivia’s neck.
“Go get your sister and tell her to get out of there and put o
n some sunscreen,” her mom said as she settled into a chair with a book.
Olivia dutifully headed for the water, though at an unhurried pace. Justin went down the beach in search of flat stones for skipping.
“Mom says come in and get sunscreen on,” Olivia said when she finally reached Melanie on the sandbar.
“When are you just going to date him already?” Melanie said.
Olivia put her hands on her hips and waited for Melanie to comply with orders.
“He’s obviously in love with you.”
“When are you just going to mind your own business already?” Olivia said. “Now come on. Mom said to go in.”
“He can’t stop looking at you, you know.”
Olivia resisted looking toward the beach to see if what Melanie said was true. “Do you want me to tell Mom you refuse to come in?”
Melanie stalked off, then dropped suddenly into the water when the sandbar ended. Olivia laughed.
“Shut up!” Melanie said, and she started to the shore with a slow breaststroke.
Olivia chanced a look at the beach. Justin stood squinting out at the water, hands on his narrow hips. Olivia couldn’t tell what he was looking at exactly. There was, after all, an entire beautiful vista to view. She waved. He waved back. Then he walked into the water and headed straight for her.
twenty-five
OLIVIA WATCHED JOSH make his way upriver and out of sight with a measure of sadness that baffled her. All told, she had spent less than forty-eight hours in his presence, and she could count on one hand the number of hours spent talking to him. He’d helped them out in a pinch, or two, and now he was going on his way and they were going on theirs—that was it. Even so, the loss of his company sent a cloud of melancholy straight to her heart.
Just knowing he was walking the path with her had set her mind at ease. Then everything wasn’t on her shoulders. She didn’t have to know the way because he did. She didn’t have to think about every contingency because he’d probably already experienced them all and would know what to do. It felt like having her father back, his steady footsteps somehow reassuring her that everything would be okay. That she and Melanie would get through this. Not just the hike, but all the other stuff too.
Her conversation with Josh in the tent hadn’t been long, but it had been enough to nudge her thinking in a new direction. It wasn’t that she didn’t know Justin had lost something. It was simply that she hadn’t considered it relevant given the magnitude of what she had endured. There might be any number of extenuating circumstances in a court case. But they didn’t negate the fact that a law had been broken, that someone had been victimized, that justice must be satisfied.
And yet, this wasn’t a court case. Her family had made sure of that by refusing to press charges, given that it was an accident and that Justin had been such a big part of their lives for so long. Facts that had seemed irrelevant to Olivia until last night. But this wasn’t a trial and she wasn’t acting as a lawyer, so perhaps not all the rules applied. Or perhaps there were different rules altogether.
At this point she was sure of three things. First, that it had been cowardly and selfish to abandon her family after the accident. Second, that no matter how angry she was at Melanie, eliminating her from her life was not the answer. Third, that she could not forgive Justin. Not yet—maybe not ever. But perhaps she could talk to him.
Olivia looked at her watch and then turned to face the sister she had not spoken to all day. “It’s five miles to the Lake of the Clouds. We better get going.”
Over the next few hours they would be struggling to climb four hundred feet up from the Big Carp River valley to the rocky cliffsides.
For half a mile or more, she sorted through her thoughts as she forced her tired legs to carry her step by agonizing step up the mountainside. The trail was uneven, the left side rising up to the summit, the right dipping down toward the river. Soon Olivia’s left hip was screaming, and she tried to compensate by forcing her right leg to do more of the work.
This was what had been happening all those silent years. Melanie pulling more than her fair share of the emotional weight of their loss. She’d needed someone to lean on. In Olivia’s absence, she’d found Justin. Even if Olivia tried to do her part now, it wouldn’t make up for past neglect. It wouldn’t get Justin out of her sister’s life. And Melanie was clearly still hurting. She needed attention and rest and time to heal. She needed a break.
“Want a breather?” Olivia said, suddenly unable to keep climbing.
Melanie nodded and twirled her finger to tell Olivia to turn around. Instead, Olivia reached around to get Melanie her water bottle first. They drank long and deep. No need to be too stingy even though there would be no spots to filter water from here on out. They would be spending no more nights on the trail. They could fill up at the visitor center on the way out if it was still open. Barring that, the nearest gas station would be well stocked with far more than water.
All around them, brown needles carpeted the forest floor. Giant fallen trees blanketed in soft green moss invited weary travelers to sit and rest awhile. Overhead a breeze whispered through the lofty hemlocks. It gave Olivia the feeling of being in a church. The living trees were the columns of a great cathedral, and the fallen ones were the pews. They were even situated, incredibly, in generally parallel rows. Olivia knew from her summer research that this must be a spot that had been affected by the great blowdown of 1953, when straight-line winds came ashore from Lake Superior with the force of a tornado and left a two-mile-wide swath of destruction behind. A completely logical and scientific reason for the uncanny arrangement of logs.
Olivia unbuckled the straps of her pack and let it slide off her back. “Let’s sit a moment.”
She sat on a log, and Melanie settled down on another. Olivia stood, walked around to where Melanie was, and sat down next to her.
How did she start this conversation? “Sorry” was not enough. “I was wrong” was the understatement of the century. “I’ll do better” felt like an empty promise.
Melanie’s eyes met hers. She held her gaze for a moment, then wrapped her skinny arms around her big sister’s sweaty neck. “I’m sorry,” Melanie said into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
Olivia pulled back. “No, Mel.”
Melanie hugged her again. “No, I am. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Olivia gently pushed her away. “Stop. Let me say something.”
Melanie leaned back and rubbed her nose with her sleeve.
“Gross, Mel. Don’t forget that’s mine,” Olivia said with a laugh. “You’re just borrowing it.”
“Oh.” Melanie gulped. “I can wash it and mail it to you.”
Olivia waved that away. “Never mind that. I have something I need you to hear.” She paused. Why was it so hard to say?
Melanie looked at her, eyes guarded, apparently ready for another blow. Shame coiled around Olivia’s throat like the too-tight turtleneck her mother had forced her to wear for her fourth-grade school portrait. She’d done this to her sister. The years of verbal sparring had been nothing more to her than practice for her chosen profession, honing her skills and sharpening her tongue. But to Melanie, they’d been deeply personal—and she had been on the losing end of every single one.
Olivia took a breath. “I have not treated you fairly. Not during this trip, not during the past decade. Not after the accident, not before the accident. I’ve always had to be right, even when it didn’t really matter, which is probably most of the time. I’ve treated you like an opponent, not a sister. It’s not fair to you and it’s not good for me.” She paused to brush a small, pale-colored moth off the toe of her shoe. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I’ve often wondered how we could possibly have had the same parents.”
“Is that why you used to tell me I was adopted?” Melanie said.
Olivia laughed. “No. That was just to make you mad. You see what I mean though? You would never do that to me. It would ne
ver even occur to you to say something like that, something designed to make another person feel bad.”
Melanie shrugged. “Nature versus nurture, I guess.”
“It would seem so. Though we basically had the exact same nurture situation, so you must be naturally good and I must be naturally . . . evil?”
“I wouldn’t say evil.”
“Okay,” Olivia said. “Maybe not evil, but definitely not good.”
“Contentious?”
“Perhaps.” Olivia felt something tickle the back of her hand and brushed it off absentmindedly. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, and I’m going to make a concerted effort to do better.” She turned to face Melanie head-on. “I know that you and Justin are close.”
“Olivia, I—”
“No, let me finish. I know you’re close, and I understand why. He was there for you when I wasn’t.” She forced the next words out of her mouth. “I know I should have been more sympathetic, not just about your relationship but about him directly. He had a really hard life—probably you know even more about it now than I did when we were friends, and I know a lot—and the accident made it much, much harder. I could have handled his involvement better.”
Something like hope lit Melanie’s watery eyes.
“I’m not saying I forgive him,” Olivia hastened to say. “But I want you to know that I’m going to be reaching out to him to at least have a conversation. Someday.”
“That’s really good to hear, Olivia.”
She smiled at her sister and flicked a fluff of seed off her shoulder. “But I wouldn’t expect much to come of it, okay? It’s just . . . a start. Maybe. Though, I guess I am almost kind of glad you badgered me into taking this trip. Almost.”
“Me too.” Melanie smiled as she said it, but then Olivia saw her smile melt away.
“What?”
Melanie reached up to the brim of Olivia’s baseball cap. “What is all this stuff? It looks like snow.” Her eyes danced.
“It’s not cold enough for snow.”