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She crossed her arms over her chest.“So is there soy in the marinade or not?”
“I already told you, there’s not,” Dylan said.
She arched an eyebrow.“Well, can you provide me with a list of the ingredients so I can see for myself?”
I could see the muscle ticking in Dylan’s jaw.Luckily, Micah swooped in.“Elena!I hope you and your family are enjoying yourselves.”
His smile was so bright, she automatically smiled in return.“It’s wonderful, Micah, thank you.I was just checking on the food for dinner.As you know my son has a soy allergy--”
“Yes, of course.We always take food sensitivities into account.”He led her away, expertly maneuvering her through the kitchen area.
Dylan sighed in relief.“Not the worst thing in the world?”I asked him.
“Maybe in the top five,” he acknowledged, the corner of his mouth turning up.
By the time I finished with the potatoes, it was golden hour, and Dylan released me to go take pictures.“Do you ever get tired of this?”I said, marveling at the way the sinking sun turned the sky to gold and pink behind the stark blue and white mountains.
“I’ve been here thirty-plus years,” he said, setting his hand on his hips as he looked up at the sky, “ever since I was a little kid.And I’m not tired of it yet.”
I thought about that as I wandered away from the mess tent, trying to capture the majesty in front of me with my phone.Baltimore had some lovely spots but it wasn’t like this.The majesty of nature made me feel small, but not in a demeaning way.The mountains were older than humanity, and never fully conquered.This beauty wasn’t created by humans, or designed to meet human ideas of beauty.But they were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Judging from the tourists who were also taking pictures, I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.I understood now what Ethan had meant when he’d said the woods were better alone.The chattering voices of strangers marred the peace of this place.
I wandered away.Melinda had mentioned a stream, and I decided to find it.From time to time, I crouched and took pictures of flowers I thought my mother might like.She’d been horrified when I told her I was going even further away from civilization, but I knew she’d love this if she were here.
Suddenly, I missed her intensely.I hadn’t yet told her I was going to stay until I found a cure for Melinda.I hadn’t yet told her that part of me wanted to stay forever.
Because I felt guilty, I snapped a few more pictures of flowers I thought she might like and, because I was curious, checked them in the app she’d made me download.Normally I’d be interested in their scientific names, but I found myself charmed by the odd colloquial appellations.Shooting Stars, Beardtongues, Hen’s Teeth.The last was starting to wilt.I picked up one of the fallen blooms and twirled it between my fingers, trying to remember where I’d heard the term before.
The stream burbled along a deep rivulet cut along the side of the clearing.The water, when I touched it, was freezing cold.I knew too much about water-borne illnesses to drink straight from the creek, but there was something about the moment that made me feel nature in a way I never had.Liquid snow was running past my fingertips.It fed the trees that had spouted along the stream’s channel, whose long lives were short compared to the mountains themselves.I could hear the singing of the birds, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the tinkling music of the water.But my restless mind was, for once, silent.
I stood up, sighing with pleasure.The sigh turned strangled when I realized there was a wolf standing in the path between me and the campsite.
