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“Do you like hiking?” I asked as I poured us coffee.
“I do. I hiked around here all the time as a kid.”
“Would you want to come with Lanie and I on a hike, then? We could use a familiar perspective.”
“Well, I haven’t hiked around here in years, but I’d still love to go,” she said.
“Yay! Hike!” Lanie said. “Amana come, too!”
“Yes, I am,” Amanda said, smiling. “Are you excited?”
I slid her mug of coffee to her across the table before I sat down.
“I like bugs,” Lanie declared happily.
“Bugs? You like bugs? I don’t like bugs, but I do like coming across creeks and rivers,” Amanda said. “What about you, Brian?”
The girls were focused on me as my coffee cup paused in mid-air.
“I enjoy how nature clears my head,” I said.
“. You should like bugs,” Lanie said.
Amanda snickered and tried to bite back her laughter as Lanie grabbed for another cinnamon roll.
The three of us ate most of the cinnamon rolls before we left for our hike. Lanie kept running out in front of us, and Amanda was chasing her down. I watched the two of them interact before Lanie got tired. So I lifted her up and put her on my shoulders.
The hike was beautiful. The sun was streaming through the trees, casting shadows and small rainbows on the foliage underneath our feet. Animals darted in and out of our path. Squirrels and does with their fawns, scampered across the tail. A buck crossed our path with a massive rack of horns and Lanie about came out of her skin. I watched as Amanda’s eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings with a gigantic smile on her face.
I could tell her memories were pulling her back into a time when she was younger. A time when life was easier, and she felt freer than now.
“I got lost back here once,” Amanda said.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yep. My grandmother had to come find me. She was so angry with me,” she said, giggling.
“Did you ever come back out here after that?”
“All the time. But I only ever got lost that once. I learned how to navigate these woods very well as a child.”
“I take it everything looks familiar?” I asked.
“The one thing you learn about the woods, Brian, is that they never look the same way twice. But, some features always stand out. Like the brook trickling water up the way to our left a little bit. Or that old abandoned treehouse we passed not too long ago.”
“Was it your treehouse?” I asked.
“I wish,” she said. “If you keep hiking three more miles straight, there’s another house. It’s been abandoned for a long time now, but there were boys there once. They built the treehouse.”
“What happened to them?” I asked.
“Eh, families grow up and get bigger. Having three boys requires a lot of space. They moved, and the house never sold.”
I enjoyed listening to her stories. She talked about her childhood as if it was still happening. We weaved in and out of the trees, and she told me every story of every rock she ever came across. She told me about the first time she ever climbed a tree to the top. She showed me the first tree she ever fell out of. She described the view from the top of the tree as she looked over the whole of the mountain she lived on.
“It was the first time I was aware of something greater than myself. I ran all the way back to my grandmother’s and tried to draw the picture for her,” Amanda said.
“Let me guess. That was what hooked you on art.”
“Most definitely,” she said, smiling.
The hike was a success. We walked around for so long that we bypassed lunch altogether. When we finally made it back to the cabin, Lanie was ready to eat the kitchen table. I pulled out the soup Amanda brought us a few days ago and warmed it up, and we all ate together in a comfortable silence. It was easy and familiar.
I never thought I’d ever experience that feeling again.
“You okay there, sweetheart?” Amanda asked.
I looked over at Lanie, who was about to nod off into her bowl of soup.
“Lanie?” she asked. “You ready to go to bed?”
“No,” Lanie said as her head snapped up. “More soup?”
“I think it’s time for bed,” I said.
“Soup,” Lanie said, whining.
“I’ll let you skip a bath if you lay down to sleep,” I said.
Lanie relented easily as I pulled her out of her chair. Her little head laid itself on my shoulder as I walked her back into her room. I took a few wet wipes and wiped her down before I got her dressed in her pajamas. Then, I tucked her in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Uncle Bwian?”
“Yeah?”
“I like Amana,” she said.
“I’m glad you do.”
