Dear Emily (27 page)

“This place hooks you. When you leave at the end of the summer, you can’t wait to get back home among your own things, and then after a week or so, you wish you were back here. Everyone says the same thing. I think you and I will get along swell and we can buddy up if you lighten up. You look much too serious. Later we can talk about whatever you think is your problem. You also look like you’re full of questions, so fire away.”

“How many nuns are here? Do laypeople work here? It must take a lot of people to keep everything as nice as it is. How often do the rangers come here? I met the one called Matt. He brought my gear down to the cabin.”

“Whoa. One at a time. We have six nuns. They aren’t your regulation nuns. They let us call them by their nicknames. They join in and have fun with us. We have a softball game in August and they play right along with us. Phillie is a real slugger and Tiny can catch a pop fly like you wouldn’t believe. They pray a lot and they swim by themselves. The others don’t intrude. They’re friendly and trust me when I tell you they keep their lips zipped. Every time I talk to one of them I feel so…peaceful. It’s hard to explain. They have no worries, they live for God and to do good deeds. I guess the word I’m looking for is
pure.
So when you talk to them about a problem, they always seem to have the right answer. I’m not a Catholic, but I go to their mass on Sunday. A lot of the rangers come too. A priest from Gatlinburg comes every Sunday. It’s real nice and sets the mood for the rest of the day.

“Nine laypeople work here. There are five groundskeepers; two of them are retarded boys whose parents work here. They’re lovely boys. The rangers come by twice a day. Usually it’s Matt, but sometimes Ivan comes. Depends on who’s off during the week and who’s off during the weekends. Both of them are real nice and friendly. Matt’s a widower and Ivan is a bachelor. I’ve been trying to snag him for ten years, but he won’t bite. Neither will Matt. I think every single woman who’s ever come here has tried to hit on both of them. They’re sociable and even friendly, but it doesn’t go beyond that.”

Emily laughed. “Maybe you need to change your bait. Where are you from, Rosie?”

“Barnesboro, Pennsylvania. I’m a hick from the sticks. I’ve been thinking about moving south to get away from the cold winters, but the thought of packing up all my belongings is enough to make me change my mind every time I think about it. So I go to Florida in the winter and go home in the spring. Let’s go for a walk. We need to walk off that dinner. Unless you have other plans.”

“Right,” Emily giggled. “Let’s go. I ate too much.”

“It’s easy to do that here. The fresh air really gives you an appetite but then you work it off during the day. Everything you do here is one form of exercise or another. It’s your turn to talk. You can’t let me keep going on like I do or you’ll never get to say anything. Tell me about yourself, Emily. Only what you want to tell me,” she added hastily.

“There really isn’t much to tell. I was divorced and my ex-husband died last year. I’m rather boring. Do you work, Rosie?”

“I never worked a day in my life, for money that is. I worked my tail off in the house, though. I went straight from my parents’ house into marriage and I had a baby right away. My husband was a very good provider. He was in insurance and he believed in his product so we had plenty of it. I’m not rich, but well enough off that I don’t have to worry about working or my old age. I can even offer my kids some modest help if they need it. My Harry died on the golf course. I was so angry. That’s a story in itself. So, tell me, how do you like it here?”

“It’s lovely. Do people come here in the winter?”

“Yes. In fact, they have to turn people away. I came here one year for Christmas after Harry died. I felt it was something I had to do. All I did was cry the whole time so I cut the visit short and went home. It’s different here in the winter. There’s skiing, snowmobiling, horseback riding. The horses love the snow. Bet you didn’t know that. Cozy fires, warm friendships, cups of cheer. Sister Cookie makes a mulled wine that will sizzle your socks right off your feet.”

“I’m going to go bike riding tomorrow. Would you like to join me, Rosie?”

“I’d love to. I think we should be going back. I have this bunion that is a killer. I want to put my slippers on, but first I’m going to walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Emily demurred.

“Sure I do. You aren’t familiar with the trails yet and it’s dark now. The torches along the paths are something you have to get used to. The first time I was here I was lost for a couple of hours. They sent people out to look for me. I felt incredibly stupid. We need to stop by the camp store and get you some soft drinks and juice. You run a tab and pay up at the end of the month. You just more or less help yourself and write down what you take. I thought we could sit on your porch and have a cola, sort of unwind and talk.”

“I’d like that.” Emily realized she meant the words. She liked Rosie Finneran. The woods and the loneliness didn’t seem quite so grim now.

Later, as they approached Emily’s cabin on Archangel Trail, Rosie scurried up to the front porch and returned to the trail with a torch she ignited from the one on the trail. “See, you would have walked up there in the dark. When you left, it was light and you didn’t light it. Think of this,” she said, returning the torch to its cement bucket on the porch, “as your porch light. You’re supposed to put it out yourself when you retire. The ones on the trail burn all night.”

“What shall we toast?” Emily asked, remembering the many toasts she and the women had made back home.

“How about to friendship and becoming good friends.”

“Sounds good to me,” Emily said, clinking her bottle of Snapple against Rosie’s.

They sat in companionable silence, listening to the sounds of the bullfrogs and crickets, content to sip their drinks and stare out at the star-filled night. At ten o’clock, Rosie said it was time to call it a night.

Inside, undressing for bed, Emily realized how alone she was. Without warning she started to cry. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs. God, what was wrong with her?
What do you want, Emily? What will make you happy? What the hell is happiness? Blow your nose, light a cigarette, and go sit on the front porch. Count your blessings and get on with it.

Huddled in her robe, Emily leaned back into the pillows she’d carried out with her. It was warm; she didn’t need a blanket. She felt safe with the torch at the far end of the porch. Eventually she dozed and was awakened with a bright light shining in her face a little after three in the morning. “Wha—Who are you? Oh, Mr. Haliday. Is something wrong?” Emily asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question. I’m sorry I woke you, but we take our safety seriously around here. I’m covering for Ivan this evening. He threw his back out today trying to move a tree trunk that came down in a storm a few days ago.”

“I…didn’t want to sleep inside. Actually, I didn’t…I couldn’t sleep. I came out here to count my blessings, that kind of thing and…well, that’s what I did. I guess the fresh air hasn’t gotten to me yet.”

“Takes a few days,” Haliday said.

“Do you always come around in the middle of the night?”

“Midnight and then again at three. It’s extra money. With two kids going to college in a few years, it will come in handy.”

“I never had any children,” Emily said quietly.

“There are days when I don’t number them among my blessings,” Haliday said. “When they were little, they were little problems, and now that they’re bigger, they’re bigger problems. I don’t know if it gets worse or better.”

“Who watches them when you’re on patrol?”

“I have a lady who sleeps in when I’m on duty. During the day they manage by themselves. The neighbors keep an eye on them and they’re up here a lot in the summer. Winters they’re in school. They aren’t being neglected.”

“I didn’t mean to infer that they were,” Emily said stiffly.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes, but it’s awfully quiet. I’m not used to it, I guess. Rosie Finneran and I hit if off pretty well. I think I made a friend. That part of it is nice. I like people, but I miss my friends and I’ve only been here a day.”

“Five dollars says inside of a month you won’t want to go home. And I’m not a betting man.”

“I’ll take that bet. I’m not sure if I’m a gambling woman or not. I guess I am,” she said thoughtfully. “I gambled some pretty high stakes back home. With my life and my financial security.”

“Did you win?”

Emily laughed. My God, I’m laughing at three o’clock in the morning. “I guess you could say I won. I looked at it then as reaching a goal I had set up for myself. Then when I attained that goal, I wasn’t sure if it was what I wanted…I wanted it, but it didn’t seem to be enough, if you know what I mean.”

“Are you married, Mrs. Thorn?”

“I was once. I got divorced and then my ex-husband died last year. Perhaps you heard about it on the news; it was quite sensational. Ian was gunned down outside an abortion clinic in Los Angeles. I had a hard time with that, but I went on because I had to go on. Then I spoke with a priest who told me about Black Mountain. That’s why I’m here. What about you, Mr. Haliday?”

“Call me Matt. Everyone does.”

“Then you can call me Emily.”

“Okay. I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve never been away except to go to school. I came back here as soon as I graduated and got a job with the Park Service. Then I got married and had kids.”

Emily didn’t think it strange at all that here she was, in a strange place in the woods, having a conversation with a park ranger at three o’clock in the morning.

“And almost lived happily ever after,” Emily said quietly.

“Almost. Sometimes things aren’t meant to be. I don’t know why that is,” he said sadly.

“Are you happy, Matt?”

“Contented. I’m not sure I know what happiness is. I thought I was happy when I was married, but maybe it was just contented. They talk a lot around here about peace, contentment, and spiritual well-being. They don’t use the word
happy
much. How about you, Emily?”

She wasn’t about to confide in this perfect stranger even though he made her feel like she’d known him for a while. “I’m up for whatever gets me through the days. Maybe we all need to search for the meaning of that word and then see if we’re capable of experiencing it. Instinctively we may shy away from it because we’re afraid the feeling won’t last and maybe it’s better not to go through the feeling and then have a letdown.”

Matt chuckled. “I suppose you could be right and then again you could be wrong.”

“Spoken like a true politician.” Emily smiled in the darkness.

“Are you one of those career females?”

“Now, why does that question sound obscene?” Emily asked coolly.

“A lot of them come here searching for something. They enter a man’s world, fight, kick, and scratch, and when they get what they want, they can’t handle it so they come here to do their soul searching. Then they go home, get married, and give up their jobs.”

“Well, if that doesn’t sound chauvinistic, I don’t know what does,” Emily bristled. “Does that mean you think women belong in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant?”

“If that’s what they want. If it isn’t what they want, then they should be prepared to pay the price. The only problem is they don’t want to pay that price. I’m only speaking about what I’ve heard. The sisters talk about it a lot. As far as counseling goes, they leave much to be desired. Their habits help a bit. The men, the CEOs who come here to get off the fast track, aren’t any better than the women. The men pack it in and go off and sail around the world, and the women go back and get married. I don’t understand. Why can’t these people do things in moderation?

“So,” Matt said, “I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time. I should be getting back to the main building and write up my report. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“That’s okay, Matt. I’m wide awake now. I’ll probably just sit here and watch the sun come up.”

“My favorite time of day. Wait till you see how the dew sparkles in the early hours. It looks like this whole place is speckled with tiny diamonds. You can get drunk on the smell of the pines.”

“I had a Christmas tree once that made me dizzy with the scent.”

Matt scoffed. “You people in the city don’t know the first thing about trees. You need to cut one from the woods and drag it home. We don’t put chemicals and junk in our soil up here. Makes a world of difference. You take one of these trees home and you can smell it all over the house. You’ll learn,” he said, getting up from the step where he’d been sitting. “Were you serious about me being a male chauvinist?”

“Uh-huh.” Emily tried to hide her smile at the serious look on his face.

“My daughter said the same thing. Guess I have to work on that.”

“I would if I were you. Thanks for stopping by.”

“My job,” he said curtly. “You wait till tomorrow. Phillie and Tiny will know we were sitting here talking. I don’t know how they do it, but they know everything that goes on here. They’re renegades.”

“I’ll remember that. Night, Matt.”

“Night, Emily.”

Emily curled up in the chair, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep. A sound at the bottom of the steps woke her just as the sun was coming up. Her breakfast guests. A smile worked its way around her mouth. “Okay, guys, give me a minute to get it ready.”

“Amazing,” she said over and over as she walked among the squirrels and rabbits that were eating the food she put out.

Emily’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she stared at the necklaces of diamonds that circled the shrubbery and trees. She was walking on a carpet of sparkling brilliants that so delighted her she clapped her hands in pure pleasure. “Good morning, world.”

E
mily settled into her new, temporary life in the mountains. She established a routine that included Rosie Finneran and to some extent Matt Haliday. She was sleeping like the proverbial log, eating like the proverbial pig, and exercising like the proverbial guru. She loved every minute of it. She laughed, giggled, joked with the other guests. Some she knew by name; others, who she thought of as religious, were nodding acquaintances. “It seems I live in anticipation of the next meal,” she said to Rosie when she pushed her chair back from the table at breakfast time.

“Well, let’s see, you’ve been here ten days and you seem to me like a new person. You have rosy cheeks, Emily Thorn.” Rosie grimaced.

“What’s wrong?”

“Gas,” Rosie said, massaging her stomach. “Everyone has noticed that Matt Haliday sort of seeks you out or comes around wherever you are. People are talking.”

“Stop it, Rosie. He’d be here anyway. How do you know I’m not where he is? Chew on that one, my friend.” Emily smiled.

“You sly little devil. He’s nice. I could see you with him. He’s not sexy-looking, though.” She grimaced again. “Let’s walk a little.”

“I think he is. Sexy I mean. What you see isn’t necessarily what you get. He could be a dynamo in bed.”

“He could also be a dud,” Rosie shot back. “I thought you said he was a male chauvinist.”

“That too. Look, he’s not interested in me, he’s just being nice. He treats you the same way he treats me. I have to admit, I’m a little interested in him. He intrigues me.”

“Why is that?” Rosie asked, bending over to tie her sneaker. She gasped when she straightened up. Emily, who was walking ahead of her, didn’t hear the frightening sound.

“I never met anyone content to live his life in…these types of surroundings. I know he lives in town, but by his own admission he’s rarely there except to sleep. He pretty much lives up here with the trees and moss.”

“I don’t know, Emily. He gets to meet new people every year and gets to renew old friendships. He looks out for people. That’s very rewarding in itself. He tends to nature and that’s rewarding too. It’s his life. He strikes me as a man who has it all together and loves what he does. How does he compare to that guy Ben back home?”

“Apples and oranges,” Emily said loftily. “Hey, it’s quarter to nine. We said we were leaving at eight-thirty for our hike. I’ll meet you here at the crossroads. I have our lunch.” Emily held up a cardboard box Sister Gilly had handed over after breakfast.

“It’s not my fault you wanted a second helping of those butternut pancakes. Bring the map in case we get lost,” Rosie called over her shoulder.

Emily sprinted back to her cabin, stuffed her gear in her purple backpack, and slid her arms through the hoops. At the last minute she shoved the map of the retreat in the hip pocket of her shorts. She was walking through the door when she turned around, entered the cabin, and removed her boots and shorts to pull on a pair of twill khaki slacks. She laced her boots. Now she was ready. Or was she? She stood perfectly still on the last step and mentally ticked off the items in her backpack. Knife, first aid kit, flashlight, small but powerful, lunch, a heavy sweatshirt, and a can of insect repellent. She went back into the cabin for the third time and picked up the three Hershey bars on the end table in the sitting room. “Enough already, move,” she muttered.

“Appalachian Trail, here we come,” Rosie said.

“How are you feeling? Look, if you aren’t up to this, we can go another time. A ten-mile hike is something to think about. Are you sure, Rosie, that you’re up to it?”

“I do it every year, but only four miles. What’s six more? I have to make pit stops, but I can do it. Are you getting nervous?”

“Not at all. I’m looking forward to this. I can’t wait to write to my friends and tell them I went hiking on the Appalachian Trail. They are going to be so jealous. Well, maybe they’ll be relieved they aren’t here. Hiking isn’t something they’re fond of.”

“Bet we see Matt at some point.”

“Today is his day off,” Emily said.

“Ah, so you are keeping track of him.” Rosie burst out laughing at the look of chagrin on Emily’s face. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. Wild anticipation is better than the actual happening, whatever that happening is. An affair, a trip, whatever. Usually the event is pretty much of a letdown. It’s that wild, wicked, anticipation that makes it all worthwhile. Take me, I’ve been lusting after Ivan for so long I lost track of time. If anything ever happened, I don’t think I’d know what to do. First, though, I have to lose some weight and give myself a new do, a new, what’s that called, a makeover? When he sees me, he sees this roly-poly, gray-haired woman who is a grandmother.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Rosie. I used to do that.” Emily confided about her bathroom escapade and the broken mirror. “That was then; this is now. If you’re serious, I can put you on a health and exercise program, and if you extend your time here, when it’s time to leave I can personally guarantee a significant weight loss. I can even do your makeover. I know all about makeup. I worked in a lounge for a long time and makeup was important. I can color your hair and even cut it for you. If there’s a way to save money, I know it. Do you know there are over two hundred ways to serve tuna fish, three hundred and sixty ways to make chicken? I know them all!” Emily giggled.

“I don’t have any willpower,” Rosie groaned.

“Okay, I can deal with that. Think about it like this. There you are, a svelte one hundred and fifteen pounds with a sleek new hairdo, fashionable makeup, a gorgeous outfit, and out of the woods comes Ivan the…hunk. He sweeps you up over his shoulder and takes you to his…his cave, where you make wild, passionate love. He ravages and plunders and you love it. You cry for more, more, and still more until he’s nothing but a quivering mass of jelly. You get up, rearrange your clothes, and look down, disdainfully, at this heap of quivering manhood and say…what will you say, Rosie?” Emily doubled over laughing.

“See you around,” Rosie gurgled. “I’m in your hands, Emily. Do it.”

“Okay, tomorrow we start. Let’s stop for lunch. I think we’ve come about four miles, maybe a little more. We deserve to rest.”

Emily handed over a plastic-wrapped ham and cheese sandwich and a peach to Rosie, who said she wasn’t hungry. Emily ate hers hungrily and could have eaten Rosie’s too, but she didn’t. The juice from the peach dribbled down her chin, dropping to her T-shirt. “Oh, shit, now it’s going to stain my shirt. I’m such a slob.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Want some water?”

“Yes, but what I’d really like is a couple of aspirin. Do you have any in the first aid kit?”

“I don’t think it’s going to help, if it’s your stomach that hurts. Is it bad?”

“It isn’t
as
bad, but it’s still there. It must be a pocket of gas and that’s the worst. I get it sometimes when I eat the wrong things. I think it’s from the three weenies I ate last night. Maybe it’s from those char-blackened, roasted potatoes with all that dripping butter.”

“Best potatoes and weenies I’ve ever eaten,” Emily said happily.

“Then how come
you
don’t have gas?” Rosie grumbled.

“This is some conversation. I ate sauerkraut with my weenies. It makes you
go.
Did you
go?”

“No, I didn’t go. The aspirin is for a headache. Give me three.” Emily obediently shook out three aspirin from the bottle and handed them over to Rosie, who gulped them down with a swig of water from the bottle in Emily’s backpack.

“We have to get moving. Our goal is to make it back to the retreat by dusk. Gilly promised to hold dinner for us if we were late. She made me swear not to tell the others. I put ten bucks in her personal poor box.”

“Bribing a nun is shameful. And she let you do it?” Rosie asked.

“Yep, and she smiled. Here, let me give you a hand,” Emily said, reaching down to grab Rosie’s arm. She staggered backward, regained her footing, but in doing so turned completely around. Huffing and puffing, Rosie took the lead, but veered to the right, leaving the trail. Emily followed, whacking at the brush with her arms.

Emily looked at her watch two hours later when Rosie said, “I have to stop, Emily. My side is killing me. Let’s see if we can figure out where we are exactly. Where’s the map? I haven’t seen any markings for a long time now. The trail is clear, not like this path we’re on. Do you suppose we made a mistake and somehow got off?”

“Don’t tell me that, Rosie,” Emily grimaced. “I don’t want to be lost. My God, there’s nothing around for miles and miles. If you even
think
we’re lost, let’s head back the way we came and go back to the retreat. We can do this another time. It’s almost two o’clock.” She handed over the water bottle. Rosie drank greedily and asked for more aspirin, while Emily rummaged in her pockets for the map. “I left it in my shorts,” she wailed.

“Feel my head, Emily.”

“Rosie, you’re
hot!
We’re going back! Now!”

“Not till this pain in my side lets up. How hot do you think I am?”

“Maybe 102. Did you have a fever when we started out?”

“No. I just felt sluggish. I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think the pain in my side is gas either.”

“Are you telling me…? Did you ever have your appendix out? Are you telling me you think you have appendicitis?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my ovaries because I had my GYN checkup before I came up here. What else is there but your appendix? My kidneys are okay. God, Emily, what if it bursts? I’ll try, but I don’t think I can make it back.”

“Let’s take a few more minutes. I can help support you, but if it really is your appendix, maybe you shouldn’t even be walking. The fever is going to slow you down. I don’t want to leave you here and go on to try and find help. If we are lost, I could get even more lost on my own without the map. The sisters will know something’s wrong if we don’t make it back by dusk, but that’s six or seven hours from now. A lot can happen in that time. There’s no guarantee Gilly will even be aware that we aren’t back. Our suppers will be in the oven and she’ll be at Devotions. Maybe we won’t be missed till nine o’clock or even later. Tell me what to do, Rosie,” Emily said tightly.

“Go back and…get help. I can’t make it, Emily, and even if I could, I’d just slow you down. Take the bandages from the first aid kit and tie strings on the bushes so the rangers can find their way here. Once you find the trail, you can jog the rest of the way. You’re in good shape.”

“Oh, God, look at you, you’re drenched. I’ll leave you the water bottle and the backpack. What if it gets dark and you’re here alone?” Emily wailed.

“I have your flashlight and my own. Go, Emily, please. I’ll be okay till you get back. It’s my fault. I went off the trail.”

Emily’s heart fluttered in her chest. “Rosie, I can’t leave you here alone. What if some wild animal attacks you? I don’t know the first thing about tracking, finding my way back. I could get lost again. Maybe we could burn something and try and contain the fire so just the smoke rises. Surely someone will see it.”

“Fires are out. They can spread. I’m not experienced in this camping business. Don’t even think about it. The pain is getting worse, Emily. Please go. I’ll be okay as long as I know you’re trying. You can do this, Emily. Just think about all the things you accomplished after your husband left you.”

“God, Rosie, that was different. No one’s life was at stake then.”

“You’re wrong, your life was at stake. Stop talking, Emily, and go. Please.”

“All right, all right, but first let me make you comfortable. Rest your head on my backpack. The flashlights are beside you. If it rains, you have some pretty good foliage overhead. I’ll leave the water with you. Drink it, Rosie. Keep chewing these aspirin.” She slipped the bottle into the breast pocket of Rosie’s shirt. She leaned over to kiss her friend on the cheek. “Count the leaves on the trees, and when you’ve counted them all, start to count the pine needles. I’m going to be giving you a quiz when we get you out of here.”

“Just go, Emily. I’m counting,” Rosie grimaced.

Emily looked over her shoulder as she started off. Rosie’s eyes were closed, her face full of pain. I can do this. I know I can do this. I have to do this or something will happen to Rosie. I goddamn well
will
do this.

Emily thought about bears and wolves and other creatures of the forest. Snakes. She looked around wildly for a big stick. Should she try to be quiet or should she make noise? She had no idea. Walk. Stay alert. Don’t lose the stick. She waved it threateningly for her own benefit.

She walked for hours, following the beaten back bushes they’d attacked earlier. She hoped and prayed she would recognize the place where they’d stopped for lunch. She looked at her watch. She’d been alone for two hours, which meant she should be coming to their luncheon spot any minute now.

Sweat dripped down her face, down her neck, soaking the T-shirt. The heavy twill of her pants was chafing her thighs. She looked around, her eyes wild, when she felt a gust of wind as it whistled through the dense trees. What the hell did that mean? A temperature drop? The dimness of the forest pressed around her. Alarming her. She still hadn’t found their picnic spot. Had they struggled uphill or had they gone downhill? She couldn’t remember. All she could think about was Rosie and the place where she’d left her. She ripped off another piece of the sterile gauze and tied it to a thorny bush. She felt her heart ripple in her chest when she unrolled the rest of the roll. There wasn’t much left.

Emily stopped, hoping to see something that looked familiar, something to indicate they’d come this way before. The trail was steep, slick with the resin from the pine needles. Twice she slipped, going down on her knees, but righting herself immediately. She tried to run, but her lungs wouldn’t permit it.
She should be going downhill, not uphill.
She stopped, her ears buzzing. She was aware now that there was no sun. Earlier she’d noticed the lacy pattern ahead of her. It was darker now too. “Oh shit!” she muttered for the hundredth time.