Olivia's Trek (1) (11 page)
Olivia Carter
I can’t sleep. Whatever position I try and put myself in is uncomfortable. My muscles ache from all the tossing and turning. I get up quietly and move two large logs in a V-shape, creating my own corner, which fits my body like I used to do back in my room in Manhattan. I slide down, hugging my knees close to me, whacking up the volume to
Sonnet
by The Verve to drown out any thoughts and loneliness. I rock back and forth to comfort myself, but it’s no good. No matter how loud I turn up the music it doesn’t drown out Lucien Borgia’s voice or his touch. I clamp my eyes shut to lock out the pictures, which my mind has stored, of what happened in his room. But this just makes them more vivid. I’m aware of a low, deep moaning sound and realize that it’s coming from me, so I turn up the volume to maximum.
I’m screaming as someone touches my arm and leg. Oh God, it’s Lucien. It’s going to happen all over again.
My ear phones are ripped from my ears.
“Jesus, Olivia. Calm down. What’s happened?” I open my eyes to face eight sets of concerned eyes.
“Man, what’s all the noise?” asks a sleepy Miguel, who has also wandered over.
I feel relief mixed with sheer joy at seeing them and collapse into Gabriel’s arms as he pulls me up from the ground, smelling his bodywash and cologne, feeling his lean, muscular arms around me stroking the back of my hair.
He doesn’t know I’m crying because I’m happy.
“Hush, Olivia, hush. Breathe.”
I hear Shirley’s voice herding everyone back to bed and lift my head off his shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it go away.”
“I’ll help you. That’s why I’m here, okay?” He takes my chin in his fingers and looks at me directly, eye-to-eye, the intensity of the blueness boring into my soul, stroking me, his eyes reinforcing what he has just said verbally.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s the night time Gabriel. I can’t … I don’t know. I can’t cope. It’s so lonely and I get so terrified. That’s a big part of the reason that I used to do the cocaine because it would allow me to stay awake for long hours, once even 36 hours. I tried to drown out my thoughts with the music tonight, but it just made everything worse.”
Gabriel nodded, taking in what I had just told him and said, “It’s a very common thing that you’re talking about experiencing. You’re far from alone, you know. You’ve really come a long way today, Olivia. Just even recognizing this is a pretty big breakthrough.”
“Can you give me a sleeping pill or anything to help me?”
Gabriel’s eyes flashed as if irritated, “That’s not the solution, Olivia. We discussed stuff like this earlier, remember?” He rubbed his temples with his hand.
“Kiddo, it’s late and we’ve got a trek tomorrow. Let’s talk more then?”
“But …”
“Ear plug?” he asks, and he sits beside me, sharing Gymnopedie.
The next morning I avoided eye contact with everyone, feeling my cheeks blushing as if they had a life of their own. I even found enough words to write a paragraph to Uncle Preston and felt a strange closeness developing between me and the strangers I had been put together with at Cedars.
Shirley, Gabriel, Aaron, Miguel, Gillian and I were all deemed fit enough to go on a hike. The other guys had to stay behind and complete some more detox.
Gillian unnerved me though. I always caught her watching me and it gave me the creeps how she was always picking at her skin. Even in the blazing sunshine, she stuck her thumbs through a long sleeve t-shirt, so it was always pulled over her hands and she never wore shorts like the rest of us.
Shirley walks between us, disturbing our stare-off. “Okay, we’re heading to Delicate Arch and we need to keep a steady pace so we get there before the sun gets too hot. Comprendes?”
We pick up our backpacks and follow in single file, heading off out of Camp Cedars.
If my mom was alive and could see this. I understand what breathtaking means, with sights so mind-bending they just don’t seem real and I wonder if I am hallucinating.
Aaron starts to walk alongside me, “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply. I don’t know what to say to him, but my mouth runs away, “How come you’re here?”
“Well, you don’t waste any time, do you?”
I shrug my shoulders and carry on walking before he pipes up, “Share for a share?”
“Sure,” but I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“I got caught with Vitamin R.”
My facial expression must say it all.
“You know the study drug, Ritalin?”
“Oh yeah. You don’t really look like everyone else here.” I just about stopped myself from saying something stupid.
“Yeah well, I’m not, am I? College is hard enough. But throw in end-of-semester exams, term papers and standardized tests, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day, you know?”
“So how did you get caught?”
“I started using in my sophmore year and gradually increased the dosage over the next three years, then in senior year I was up to 300 milligrams a day. One night, after I’d taken about 400 milligrams, my heart just about gave out, I began hallucinating and then convulsing. I got rushed to the emergency room and wound up here.”
“Sorry, that sounds awful.”
“You?”
“Oh, just drinking and some coke and stuff and I guess my family didn’t like it when my grades started slipping.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“W-w-what do you mean why?”
“Aw, come on Olivia, we all do this stuff for a reason.”
My foot slips down the gravel trail and I tumble forward, cutting my hands as they try to break my fall.
My knees and hands sting like someone has rubbed salt on them. Open grazes on both palms and my left knee is bleeding.
I hear Shirley’s voice behind me, “Good God, Olivia. I’m coming. Just stay exactly where you are.”
“It’s just so beautiful here Shirley. How can I not have known about a place like this my whole entire life?”
“Oh sweetheart, you’ve cut your head. You’ve slipped on slick rock.”
I look around at the fluted columns of spring water cascading down massive Navajo sandstone slabs, dizzying cliffs of red, brown, and black smothered by millennia of flash floods, and an overpowering soundtrack of rushing water.
“I can’t breathe.”
“You can. You’re safe. Ain’t nothing or no one gonna get you, chickadee, while I’m watching you.”
A beautiful voice echoes around us.
“This is the end.
Hold your breath.
And count to ten.
Feel the earth move.
And then …
Hear my heart burst again.
For this is the end.
I’ve drowned and dreamt
This moment
So overdue I owe them
Swept away
I’m stolen.”
Shirley and I turn to see who is singing and see Gillian as if she’s in another world. We watch frozen as the other three come closer towards us.
Aaron is the first, “Olivia, I’m so sorry. I ruined your concentration and you fell. Can I take your backpack?”
Gillian is next, singing her heart out. Tears are running down my face. She just stands next to me, fixated on my bleeding knee and gently strokes my bleeding palms.
Gabriel and Miguel are farther behind and it looks like Miguel is crying while Gabriel rubs his back.
Gillian starts singing again.
“Let the sky fall.
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together.
At skyfall
That skyfall.”
“I can’t do it,” I pant. My hair is damp and curled with sweat. The sun blazing on us, pounding us all hiking.
“I’m seeing double. I have to stop.”
Shirley picks up my 1,000 pound backpack, hands me a bottle of water. “You are so much bigger than this,” she says soothingly.
I wince but manage to stand up and we start walking again.
Oliva Carter
We’ve been walking single file uphill for about an hour now. No conversation, just hot sun blazing down on us. Shirley at the front and Gabriel at the back with myself, Gillian, Aaron and Miguel in between.
Shirley stops and signals to us that she’s setting her bag down beside the stone formations that have been sculpted by wind, rain, snow, sun, and most important of all, time. I can’t work out why she’s stopped here. Weren’t we meant to see some breathtaking monument or something? Well there’s nothing there for sure.
We all stop beside each other, each waiting for the next in line to arrive. I notice that Gabriel still has his earphones in. I wonder what he’s listening to before he suddenly looks at me and catches me staring at him. His eyes wander to my knee, which is covered in dried blood, and then flick up towards my forehead, concern etched across his brow.
Miguel is grumbling, “Aw come on, man. This is it? This is why we came all this way?”
“Drink some water guys and we’ll set off again in five minutes.”
“Olivia, let me see your head.” Gabriel moves the hair that has been plastered to my temple with sweat, pressing his fingers, examining my cut. “We need to get that cleaned up when we get back, your knee, too.”
I show him my palms, which are now covered in crusty blood, and he tuts in annoyance. Irritation springs up inside of me at his annoyance and I pick up my backpack to get going, only to have Shirley standing in front of me, blocking my path.
“For Christ’s sake. Let me pass, I only want to walk.”
Shirley lets me pass, our shoulders brushing as I climb around the corner, the edge of a final sandstone fin, and look up.
Stunned.
“Breathe, Olivia,” Gabriel says from behind me. I feel a hand grasping my shoulder.
“I …” I close my eyes.
“It’s okay, it still takes my breath away every time I see it, too. Open your eyes.”
I open my eyes again and right there, in front of my eyes is a truly magnificent sixty-five foot arch, standing alone at the edge of a curving, slick rock basin. I had no idea what to expect when I came to Cedars. I had never even been to Utah. This was like nothing I had ever seen before. How could such beauty exist?
“I feel dizzy. I mean, I might as well be on the moon. Having grown up dirt poor, this wasn’t something anyone where I came from even dared to dream existed.”
“Well, it’s real, Olivia. The stillness and simplicity of nature makes us slow down, shift our thinking. That goes for me, too.”
I hear the others coming around the corner but am still rooted to the spot, mouth gaping open.
“Olivia’s catching flies,” says Miguel before shoving past me without even looking up.
“Awesome,” says Aaron as he slams into my back before adding, “So sorry Olivia, I …” I know he’s seen what I have.
We turn to hear Gillian humming, waiting to see her reaction and smile when she stops and drops her backpack.
“Miguel, just stop and look up,” shouts Gabriel.
“Yeah, and? It’s just some stupid, boring rock. If you think I’m gonna start crying like these freaks you’ve got another thing coming. Leave me alone.”
“What the hell is your problem, man? This is so amazing,” calls out Aaron, his voice echoing around us.
Shirley, takes a deep breath before saying, “When you look around, you see this is something so much greater than any of us. The wilderness is a power greater than you—the snow, the wind, the rain—we can’t control it, we’re powerless against it, yet we are all connected to it in some way.”
Miguel looks like he wants to cry and just stares at his feet whilst Gabriel and Shirley look at each other and smile before Shirley says, “Let’s keep going. Who wants to go and stand under the arch?”
“Stupid, arch. I hate it. I hate you all.”
“Miguel, the wilderness is one of the few settings in existence today that is timeless and universal. The fact that the wilderness has been around for millions of years and young people have been around for a mere 18 to 30 years makes us aware of our humanity and the need to make the most of the short time we have to enjoy life,” says Gabriel.
“Fuck you and leave me alone. Have you found God or something because I’m not joining your sad cult.”
I could feel a breeze blowing.I definitely felt alive. The tingles on my skin, the excitement, the adrenaline, it was fantastic. It all had so much more of an edge to it, probably because I was straight, and I had no other thoughts about anything else but what I was doing at that particular moment. That was it; nothing else mattered.
“I get it Gabriel. Oh God, what have I done. I’m so sorry for wasting myself,” my voice is breaking, as the sobs ripple through my body, each wave more painful than the last as the humbling realization that I’m just part and parcel of nature overwhelms me.
I allow myself to drop onto my knees, sobbing loudly as Aaron tries to hold me up from behind.
“Let her go Aaron. It’s okay. Who’s walking on with me?” asks Shirley, picking up her backpack like it’s a sheet of plastic.
I don’t know how long I’ve been crying before I feel a hand stroking my hair and it feels so good. I look up from under my eyelashes and see the kindest blue eyes that I’ve ever seen in my whole life. It makes me cry more.
*
The fire roars high as embers float away and wink from existence, like dying fireflies. Aaron stands, transfixed as the heat reddens his face to match his coarse, curly hair.
The rest of us are sitting around our first homemade campfire. Using medium size sticks, fine needles, large logs and dry pine needles we somehow managed to build this. I never knew that the way the fire burns depends on the way you stack the wood. Gabriel is poking at the fire with a stick, while Miguel sits scowling. Gillian’s eyes dart back and forth as she chews her hair. Aaron passes me a bag of marshmallows. I pick a couple and slide them onto my tree branch, holding them out to the flickering fire in front of me. I sigh again as the white fluff turns brown and I ease it off the stick and put the gooey mess in my mouth. Ambrosia food of the gods.
Gabriel clears his throat before looking up and trying to make eye contact with one of us, but we’re all too fast and look down into the fire, anything to avoid our campfire group therapy session.
“You guys did so great today. Shirley and I are really proud of all of you.”
I try and concentrate on the sweet smell of roasted marshmallows so I can fade away somewhere.
“I hope that none of you felt alone today?” Gabriel asks, his concerned eyes flicking around all of us.
Gillian starts to rock before saying, “You really don’t know what it is to be alone until it’s 4 a.m. and all you want to do is cut.”
“Interesting, Gillian. Why don’t you talk some more?”
“For every reason that I can think of not to cut, a thousand to do it come to mind.”
Aaron looks utterly baffled. “Why do you cut? Doesn’t it hurt?”
“I have no explanation for why I cut myself, I just do.”
My muscles let me know that they’re still there from the four-hour hike earlier today. I shift, disturbing the conversation and Gillian looks right at me, and asks, “Why do you steal food, Olivia? Aren’t you like one of the richest kids ever?”
My cheeks burn and it’s not from the heat of the fire.
“Do you think you could answer Gillian’s question?” I can’t believe that Gabriel of all people has dropped me in it.
Gillian is on a roll now and obviously relishing that the focus is away from her.
“I’ve seen you stealing ever since you got here, Olivia.”
The whispering hisses, sizzling pops, and thick, intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pine needles make me want to just fall into the fire, but I know that Gabriel will just pull me right out so I take a huge deep breath instead.
“I’ve never told anyone that I know what it feels like to be hungry. Not the kind of hunger that comes from missing a meal or being late for dinner. No, I mean the gnawing hunger that comes from not having eaten for days on end.”
Gabriel slowly looks up from the fire that he’s stopped poking at. “Keep going, you’re doing great.”
I clear my throat again. “After my mother passed away, Dad and I did manage for a short while, but his repertoire of black, burnt hamburgers that leaked blood when you bit through them and powdered mashed potatoes from a packet didn’t quite match up to her culinary skills. She used to cook every night, after working all day long, and yes, I would be hungry because we would have to wait because she liked to make everything from scratch, but I didn’t mind that hunger. I miss it. I miss her.”
I become aware of an ache, a deep ache that erupts from the inside of my chest, but it’s like the fire is soothing and hypnotizing me into just carrying on talking.
“It wasn’t long before my dad’s drinking got out of hand and he would binge, disappearing for a few days at a time. The worst of it was during the school holidays because when school was in, at least I could depend on having one meal a day.”
Each time I blink I get a reprieve from the pain in my chest for my mother. “This one time when we were on a break from school, and he had been gone for a day and a half, I really had tried everything to block any thought of food from my mind and rumbling belly. But the more I tried not to think about it the stronger the smell of my mother’s roast chicken dinner was. It was like a splinter from the Snow Queen’s mirror making all the world seem ugly and miserable because this smell meant safety, warmth and that she was alive. It meant that I had belonged at a certain time and that I had been part of a proper family. The reality was the gas had been cut off because I wasn’t allowed to answer the door when my dad was out, so I was cold, alone, and that there was nothing in the fridge apart from a jar of peanut butter.
“Sitting on the cold kitchen floor, scraping stale peanut butter out with a knife and licking the rim of the jar until my mouth hurt was the last straw. Unable to live with my shaking hands, cramping belly and dizzy head, I hatched a plan.
“Waiting until the sky was black and I was safe to move around outside like a faceless shadow, I would venture out to the neighbors’ bins. Crouching down, shining my flashlight, it was amazing to see what good food people threw away. To this day I am thankful for the leftovers. This became my daily ritual and guessing game. I would wake up looking forward to what I could find to eat that day and it gave me hope. I was twelve.
“In the end, I was saved because I was caught scavenging around the bins and someone called the authorities.”
Miguel is staring at me and it’s making me really uncomfortable so I continue.
“Until this point we were estranged from my dad’s family, the ‘Gunpowder’ Carters. Uncle Preston swooped in, rescued me and became my legal guardian and that’s how I ended up on the Upper East Side.”
Aaron asks, “What about your dad?”
I just shrug my shoulders and indicate that I don’t know where he is. I don’t think I can tell them that he never calls, not even on my birthday.
“Is that why you steal food?” asks Gillian, who is picking at the bandaging on her left wrist.
“Well, like they say, old habits die hard, and sometimes I find myself sneaking into our kitchen or any kitchen, anywhere for that matter. When no one is looking, I stick my fingers into food in pots and pans and taste it, holding it in my mouth like it’s the last thing I’ll ever eat.”
“Man, that’s deep,” acknowledges Miguel.
I close my eyes, letting my eyelids paint yellow and orange kaleidoscopes as the heat washes over me, rosying up my cheeks and giving me that nice, warm hotface effect while Aaron starts to talk about why he started abusing Ritalin.
*
I hear footsteps walking towards my tent, “Hey you. You’re very restless, can’t you sleep?” asks Gabriel, as he crouches down beside me and moves my hair out of my eyes.
I shake my head indicating that I can’t, rubbing at my chest over where my heart lies.
He sits down beside me. “The best thing for a broken heart is to be patient and allow time to settle all unresolved feelings. Talking about your feelings like you did tonight helps to smooth the passage of the loss, as will allowing yourself time to reflect on all feelings and answer questions you may have for yourself.”
I swallow hard and say in a broken voice, “But I feel empty and flat and terrible and alone.”
I hear him tut.
“You’re definitely not alone. I think that yes, it’s normal to feel worse for a time after a session like this because you have just faced issues that are painful and uncomfortable, which you’ve probably been avoiding. Eventually it all pays off, but at first it can be depressing and overwhelming. Any time we challenge ourselves, stepping out of our comfort zone, it’s natural to experience unpleasant feelings for a time.” He casts a quick eye over the others, who seem to have settled. We’re all sleeping under a giant blue tarpaulin, strung between some juniper trees and held securely by rocks. We’ve all built our own makeshift individual shelters under it, that give us space from the demons that haunt our dreams.
For the first time in my life, I know what it’s like to not feel judged. It feels like a warm, heavy blanket has surrounded me and my eyes start to feel heavy.
Gabriel shifts around trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. “I’ll sit here until you fall asleep.”
The last thing I hear before I fall asleep is the cool breeze rustling the juniper trees.
