Edge of Flight (10 page)

By the time I get home from the coffee shop, I know what I have to do.

Almost all of our household stuff is in boxes, but Mom's computer still hasn't been packed up.

“Can I use your computer for a bit?” I ask as I hand her the coffee.

“I'll need it in about an hour.”

“That's okay. I just have to print off a couple of things.”

It takes me far less than an hour to print off the forms I need and write a short letter. I dig out some documents from one of the boxes in my room—birth certificate, high school diploma, my final report card. I throw it all into a bag and head to the climbing gym where Rusty works.

At 1:00
PM
on a weekday, the gym's pretty much empty. It smells, as always, of chalk dust and sweaty feet. One bare-chested wall rat is practicing his moves in the bouldering section. Over in the beginners' section, a couple of novices are learning the ropes. The gym owner, a hard-core climber in his thirties, is halfway up an overhang, setting a new route in the toughest section of the gym. Rusty sits in a tattered office-surplus chair behind the plywood counter that serves as the gym's front desk. He's hanging up the phone when I walk in. He looks dead-tired. Not a look you usually see on Rusty.

“That was Jeb's dad,” he says.

“How's Jeb doing?”

“The guy's a horse.”

“Meaning?”

“He opened his eyes this morning and asked the doc if he could make football tryouts next week.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, way.” Rusty grins. “Doc told him to stick to the sidelines for now.”

“So is he better?”

“Getting better. No visitors except family for now. But they're saying the operation was smooth. Too early to tell about organ damage. They've got to run a bunch of tests.”

I nod. “He'll pull through.”

“Yeah,” Rusty says.

“I wish I could see him before I leave.”

“When's that, Vanisha?”

“I don't know. Sometime this evening. It depends when the moving van shows up.” I pull the papers out of my bag and come around to Rusty's side of the counter. “I need you to help me with something before I go.”

Rusty looks at the papers. Then he looks back at me. “Johnson State College. Search-and-Rescue Technician?”

“Yeah. It's a new program. I'm applying to get in. I can't make the fall semester, obviously. But I might be able to start after Christmas.”

“That's awesome, Vanisha.”

“Yeah. I think it's the right thing.”

“What about the University of Vermont? Your BA?”

I pull a copy of the email I sent earlier and show it to him. It's short and to the point.

To Whom it May Concern,

I am writing to withdraw from the BA program at the University of Vermont. Due to a change of plans, I will not be enrolling in the program this fall. Please refund my tuition deposit.

Sincerely,

Vanisha Lindhurst

Rusty hands it back. “That about says it all,” he says.

“Yeah.” I shove the paper back into my bag. It makes me nervous to read it. It's such a big decision. If I think about it too much, I'm afraid I'll second-guess myself and back out. I haven't told Mom what I'm doing yet. I'm sure she'd try to talk me out of it.

I turn back to the application forms. “I need you to help me with this. I have to write a three-hundred-word essay on why I want to get into the program. So what am I supposed to say?”

Rusty shrugs. “Just say you met these two really cool climbing dudes in Arkansas and it changed your life.”

“Come on, Rusty. Seriously.”

“Okay.” He opens up a word-processing program on the gym's computer. “Why don't you start by talking about how we rescued Jeb?”

It takes us a couple of hours to finish the essay, with a few interruptions from people signing in and out of the gym. I fill out the rest of the forms and make photocopies of the other documents I need to submit.

Finally, Rusty goes on a break and we walk to the post office. “So what's your mom going to say about this?” he asks.

“I've been thinking about that. She'll probably give me a big lecture, tell me I'm making a huge mistake. And maybe she'll refuse to pay my tuition.” I shrug. “I've got a little money saved. I'll get a job if I have to. Maybe a student loan. I don't think she'll kick me out or anything.”

“You need to strike her with her own weapon,” says Rusty.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, find some really awesome line of poetry that explains exactly what you're doing.”

I think about that as the clerk figures out how much postage I need for express mail.

“How about this:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—/ I took the one less traveled by
, /
And that has made all the difference
.”

“That's good,” says Rusty. “Yeah, that rocks. What is it?”

“Robert Frost. ‘The Road Not Taken.'”

“That's what it's all about,” says Rusty. “You've got to take one road or the other. You've got to decide. And no one else can decide for you. It's your decision. Because it's your road. You're the one who has to walk it. Not your mom. Not anyone else.”

“Yeah, that's right,” I say.

“So hit her with it. See what she has to say to that.”

I pay for the postage, and the clerk pops the letter in the big mailbag behind the counter.

“You know,” I say to Rusty, “that's not a bad idea.”

“Thanks. I'm not just a dumb jock, you know.”

“I never said you were.”

We walk side by side out of the post office and onto Fayetteville's Main Street. It's got that quaint small-town atmosphere, cafés, gift shops, a sizzling-bacon smell from the Ozark Mountain Smokehouse.

“I gotta get back to work,” Rusty says.

“Yeah. I should get home in case the moving van shows up.”

Neither of us moves though. Then suddenly we are touching hands. Suddenly, we're holding each other. My cheek is pressed against his chest. My arms are wrapped around his warm, strong back.

“Y'all come back and see us now sometime, y'hear?” Rusty says, doing his best imitation of a Southern momma.

I wipe a tear away on his T-shirt. “Don't make me cry, Rusty.”

He strokes my hair. “Don't cry, Vanisha.”

But I am crying. It's strange how I spent my whole year feeling I didn't fit in. And now I realize there are things I'll miss about this place. I'll miss the beauty of the Ozark Mountains, the p'kaahn pie, Loretta and her Southern charm.

I'll miss Jeb, even though he's a big goof. And I'll miss Rusty. I'll really miss Rusty.

We pull apart from each other at last. The sun casts long shadows down the street. We promise to keep in touch. But you can't touch someone when you're a thousand miles away. Rusty turns and walks back toward the climbing gym. His legs swing with an easy, confident stride. It's a stride that says he'll master any route he encounters. There's a little of that swing in my stride, too, as I turn and walk toward home. Though we're each going our separate ways, I know I'm going toward my future.

The future I've chosen for myself.

Glossary

Anchor
—a fixed object used to secure a rope used for climbing or rappelling

Arête
—a sharp outward-facing corner on a steep rock face

Belay
—to protect a roped climber from falling by passing the rope through or around any type of friction-enhancing belay device

Belay device
—a mechanical device used to create friction when belaying by putting bends in the rope

Bombproof
—slang for totally secure; usually refers to an anchor

Camming device
—a piece of protective equipment consisting of toothed gears that can be retracted by means of a spring-loaded trigger

Carabiner
(pronounced kar-uh-BEE-ner)—a metal oval or D-shaped ring with a spring catch on one side used for fastening climbing ropes; most often called a “'biner” in climbing slang

Chimney
—(1) a narrow vertical opening in a rock face; (2) to climb or descend using opposed limb or body pressure against two facing walls

Climbing harness
—a sewn nylon-webbing device worn around the waist and thighs that is designed to allow a person to safely hang suspended in the air when attached to a rope

Clipping in
—the process of attaching the rope to an anchor by means of one or more carabiners

Crux
—the most difficult portion of a climb

Foothold
—a rock formation that a climber can stand on with one or both feet

Free-climbing
—climbing without a rope

Gear-head
—a person who loves acquiring the latest and greatest in climbing gear

GRIGRI
—a belay device that is self-locking under load; invented and manufactured by Petzl

Handhold
—a rock formation that can be gripped by a climber's hand

Hex (hexcentric)
—six-sided nut of varying size that is placed or wedged in cracks for passive protection for a lead climber; the nut has holes that are threaded with cord or cable wire to allow a carabiner to be clipped into it

Jug
—a large, easily held handhold

Layback
—a climbing move that involves pulling on the hands while pushing on the feet

Lead
—to be the lead climber on a route

Lead climber
—the first climber to ascend the route and secure the rope to the cliff

Microhold
—a tiny handhold

Nut
—a metal wedge attached to a wire loop that is inserted into cracks for protection

Off-route
—an object (often a tree or a manmade object) that the climber is not supposed to use as a hold if the route is to be accomplished to technical perfection

On-route
—an object (often a tree) that is acceptable as a handhold on a route

Pistol-hold grip
—a handhold in the shape of a pistol

Rappel
—to descend a cliff or wall by rope, using friction to control speed

Rope in
—to tie the rope to one's harness, in preparation for climbing

Pro
—protective gear such as cams, nuts and hexes

Top rope
—to climb a route using an anchor point that is set at the top of the climb

Top-out
—to complete a route by ascending over the top of the structure being climbed

Wedge
—another word for a nut

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my husband Mark for supporting my writing career, and my editor Christi Howes for pummeling my manuscript into shape. Also, thanks to all of my climbing buddies over the years, especially to the real Chris, Michael and Rusty, who took me climbing in Arkansas' Ozark Mountains.

Kate Jaimet is an Ottawa author and journalist who recently began a freelance career after many years as a daily newspaper reporter for the
Ottawa Citizen
. Her first book in the Orca Sports series,
Slam Dunk
, was chosen as a Junior Library Guild selection and was included in the Canadian Children's Book Centre's Best Books for Kids & Teens. Kate learned to rock climb in Germany and now has a bouldering wall in her basement. For more information, visit
www.katejaimet.com
.