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She was nearing the top of a 5.11 route—no small feat on the difficulty scale—and was nearly in the building’s rafters. Packed with white-plastic covered insulation, the unique view of the ceiling came thanks to the last few holds, which had her body parallel to the floor. By this point, the handgrips were tiny and her muscles were tiring, but she powered on to reach the last grip—an olive green smooth hold intended to provide a last bit of challenge to those inspired enough to try.
“Nice job!” Her climbing partner yelled when she touched. He was the gym owner’s son and had offered to spot her so she could skip the auto-belay and try some of the more difficult routes. “You killed that route.”
“Thanks. Let’s bring me down, ok?” Gia paused, then repeated. “Coming down!”
“Down!” The young man confirmed.
As he let slack out of her line, Gia rappelled down the wall, its grey mass peppered with colorful holds no match for the demons in her mind that needed to be exorcised that day. “A little faster,” Gia coached, and was on the mat with a thud in no time. Apparently, “a little faster” meant different things to different people.
“Oh, geez, sorry about that,” Caleb smiled a mischievous grin. Was he, though? Hard to tell. She could imagine a world where a teenager would find dropping his partner to be a fun prank.
“Don’t worry about it. You ready?” Gia asked as she brushed her thighs, then shook out her neck. She’d worn the same shorts and tank top as the day she’d most recently saved Galileo from the tree, and wished she had the funds for more technical climbing apparel. Caleb was dressed to the nines—fitted climbing pants that hit just above his ankle, technical T, and spotless shoes, paired with the most expensive belt and carabiners. His complexion was smooth and California tanned, with a mop of sun-washed hair peeking out from the edges of a backwards ball cap. He could have as easily been a North Face model as a gym owner’s kid. Could he climb, though?
Around them, an older male couple worked through some of the beginner routes and chattered about their friends, with occasional guffaws peppering their commands. Gia heard the front desk attendant drag around rental gear, belts and ropes jangling as they were moved. She’d thought the climbing gym might be a place to make friends, but so far it wasn’t looking promising.
Before she had time to think much more about what the gym was and wasn’t, Caleb was calling for her attention. “On belay!”
Gia tightened her hold on the rope and dug her heels into the ground for effect. “Belay on!”
As Caleb picked holds off as if he were part primate, Gia pulled slack from the rope and tried to focus. Her mother, Gianna, was due in town later that day, and she had two nights off from work. She pushed back thoughts of hard conversations without the softening effects of alcohol; told herself to go in with an open mind. After all, if she wanted people to give her the grace of a fresh start, she owed the same to her mother.
“Damn!” Gia yelled as Caleb grabbed that olive green hold at the top. “That wasn’t even a minute!”
“Yeah, my record is 43 seconds.” Caleb smiled a big Cheshire Cat grin again and let her know he was on his way down. “Coming down!”
To the soundtrack of U2’s “Beautiful Day,” Gia lowered him, and wondered what it must be like to have his life. They came from such different worlds and found commonality in physical activity.
“Really impressive, Caleb. How long you been climbing?”
“Since I was three.” Caleb offered Gia the loose end of the rope when he’d pulled it from his harness. “So, fourteen years.”
“Wow, well, it shows. I’ve only been at it for two. I’m a late bloomer.” She must’ve seemed like a grandma to him. Gia remembered what it was like to be seventeen—thirty-two wasold.
“I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“That’s kind.”
“No, seriously, you’re good. My mom runs a women’s climbing team—you should join it,” Caleb said, pointing toward the locker rooms behind them. “There’s a sign-up sheet over there. Just think about it. She needs a few more for the upcoming season.”
There was an indoor climbing season? That was news. And this was interesting info. A teamcouldbe a place to make new friends. Turned out Caleb and his grin were less judgmental than expected.
“I will, thanks.”
“You wanna go again?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, let’s do this one, over here,” Caleb signaled for her to follow. “I call it The Dragon.”
“Why’s that?” Gia was a step behind, Pink singing on the sound system with an anthem she’d played on repeat more than once, “Get the Party Started.”
“Because it burns everyone up by the end. If you slay The Dragon, you’re a badass.”
“Well, I am currently in search of becoming a badass. But—here’s a question. Do you know if your folks are hiring?”
“Don’t know,” Caleb shrugged. “But I’ll introduce you when we’re done. Dad should be back soon.”
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