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So much harder
(Blakely)
Then, there ahead, a hut.
Tents outside. Fuck.
That meant it was full and I would have to set up my tent in the dark.
By the time I got to the building, my face was streaming with tears — not crying so much as dissolving.
I felt so freaking sorry for myself.
When I made it to the building, I stood staring at the steps up to the hut. There were two, two too many, and I just stood there devastated.
I didn’t have the courage to ask for a bunk. I didn’t have the ability to put up my tent. And I was embarrassed.
All these other people were hikers: with their tents and companions and their packs that were manageable. They probably could hike twenty miles a day without a thought.
Me, on the other hand?
I was averaging eight.
Someone walked up, “Hey, did you just get in?”
“Yes, um...” I wiped my sleeve across my eyes.
“Are you the person Frank is waiting for?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s me.”
“They got you a bunk inside. Here, let me grab your pack.”
He held on while I wriggled my arms from it.
“That is a really heavy load you got there.”
“Truth.”
Frank and George welcomed me warmly. I got the top bunk. There was an outhouse with compostable toilet paper. I made ramen noodles for dinner. No one took care of me, but being in a group meant that some of my needs were met by others, I felt very grateful. And really raw.
I had gotten pretty scared out on the trail and was relieved, but also upset — that my strength, my wit, my invention weren’t good enough to get me through, clearly what all the rest of all these people were capable of getting through.
After strained smiles and a few attempts at conversation, I climbed up into my bunk and lay there for a long time, kinda wondering if I could just live here for a few days — except it smelled awful, all these damp, smelly, sweaty, unwashed people.
* * *
George said goodnight. All the lights were turned off. People drifted away to their tents. One dude was snoring in the corner. And then Frank climbed into the bottom bunk under mine. In the dark he was hard to see but he whispered, “How ya doing, agent?”
I squiggled over to look down on him over the side of the bunk. “Truly?”
He was laying so his head was resting on his arm, he nodded.
“Not good, this is so much harder than I thought. It was really scary tonight.”
“Yeah, I bet. I wanted to talk to you about it. Will you take some advice?”
“Yeah, maybe, I mean, I am kinda upset. I don’t really think I can take being criticized. I don’t want to hear about how this is all my fault, you know?”
“Yeah I get that, and you need some sleep. How about in the morning you meet me and George for some stretching before the hike and you’ll feel fresher?”
“Sure, that sounds good... but you promise it isn’t bad?”
“Nah, not my style, I’m generally a helpful sort. Plus George won’t let me say anything awful anyway, he thinks you might be his agent someday.”
“Yeah, okay, g’night.” A second later I was asleep.
