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I nod and then take off the backpack I’ve been carrying around and hand it to her, as we both walk over to the tree.
We stand at the bottom and look up. From here, it looks pretty intimidating. Still, I’m up for the challenge. Especially if it means getting out of here.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Mila says, her head tilted back as she takes in the tree.
“I can do this,” I tell her.
“Okay,” she says. “But be careful.”
I pull myself up onto the lowest branch and then start moving slowly up the tree. It takes me a bit, climbing from higher limb to higher limb. With Mila asking how I’m doing every three branches or so.
Once I’m high enough that I can see out above me, I look around for anything—any sign of life.
“Can you see anything?” Mila calls up to me.
“I’m still looking,” I say. But the truth is, I can’t see anything. From my vantage point, it looks like a sea of trees and foliage with no end in sight. I can’t even see the ocean from here.
“Don’t go too far out, Grayson,” she calls as I try to edge out a little farther, just in case.
“I’m just making sure,” I finally say.
“Do you see anything?” she asks.
“No,” I call down to her.
She says something but I can’t hear her from up here, and by the way she’s hanging her head, I’m guessing whatever she said, she didn’t want me to hear.
I make one last-ditch effort, and that’s grabbing the phone from my pocket to see if I can get any service up here.
Nothing. No bars at all.
Slowly, I make my way back down the tree and walk over toward Mila. She’s got her face turned away, and when I get close, I can hear her sniffling and see her wiping tears away.
“Hey,” I say, my voice soft. “Mila, we’re gonna be okay.”
This only makes her cry more.
I can’t help what I do next. I reach out and pull her into my arms, wrapping them around her tightly. She smells like a mixture of sunscreen and sweat, and I love the feel of her against me. She wraps her arms around me and tucks her head under my chin.
“We’ll get out of here; I promise,” I tell her. I know I’ll do everything I can to make it true.
“It’s my fault,” she says.
“What?” I ask, confused. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who had the idea to keep going.”
I can feel her shaking her head underneath my chin. “No, it’s me. I’m a jinx,” she says, her voice coming out froggy from the tears.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because I am,” she says.
“You’re not a jinx, Mila. We’ll figure a way out of here.”
“I read about this woman who was stranded in the Maui rainforest for two weeks before they found her.” She sniffles. “I won’t survive that long.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “We’ll get out of here way before then. I promise.”
“How do you know?” she says, pulling her head back so she can see me. Her face is blotchy and tear-stained, and her eyes look bluer than usual.
