Tonight will be our first night in the mountains. He brought us to a store and purchased some of the hot dog sausages, cobs of corn, rice, beans, some circular flat bread, like lavash but different, and some round tins of thin metal for cooking in.
Instead of finding a place away from the roads, he brings us to a campground, where he pays a small fee and we are assigned a place. It is very much like the places we have been to before—a small flat area in the trees, away from other people and the roads. I noticed some other fires in the distance, heard some voices talking and laughing, but our place is private. It is by a small stream, and the mountains rise through the trees, so tall and majestic.
Every day, I see new places and I think, nothisis the most beautiful place I have ever been. But always, there is another place even more beautiful. I have seen deer in the fields, and cows, and horses. I have seen eagles flying over my head. There was even a black bear, once, far away, running across a large field.
I am thinking of all I have seen since I ran away from Mamma and Pappa and Jiwan and the wedding, and I think my life before the wedding happened to another person, not me.Thisis me, riding with Kane on his motorcycle and sleeping beneath so many stars I cannot even count all the ones directly above me.
Kane has made the fire, and here there is already a place prepared for it—a large metal ring buried in the dirt, with ashes of old fires and pieces of blackened wood. This time, the fire he makes is very large, bright. He purchased wood, a bundle of logs wrapped together. So now, we sit on an old fallen tree that has been rolled near the fire for the purpose of sitting upon. I wear my jacket, and I huddle close to him—it is summer, and the days are warm, but we are very high and it is cold.
He also erected a tent—a very small blue triangle of some noisy, slippery material. Our sleeping bags are in it, and I look forward to trying out this new thing.
Often, as we sit together by the fire, we do not talk. I think he likes the silence, and I am used to it—Pappa did not allow frivolous chatter in his presence, so I am not a person accustomed to talking simply to talk.
Now, he looks at me in a way that I have determined means he is going to tell me something. “Feel like taking a day off the bike?”
“To do what?”
He moves his chin in the direction of the mountain, nearby. “Day hike. Up there.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “But please, what is a day hike?” I ask.
He smiles, the way he does when he must explain something I am unfamiliar with—which is, it feels like, everything. “Means we just walk a trail. Not going anywhere in particular, just walking and seeing the sights. There’s a trailhead a few miles from here, got a nice little three-mile loop, and a longer eight-mile loop.”
“Have you been here before?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, about a year back. Just after I got out of the Rangers. I, uhh…” He frowns, a tightening of his brow, his jaw, his lips. “Wasn’t in a good place. Couldn’t be around people. I stayed here in this campground for a month, spent most of my time hiking, camping, just tryin’ to get my shit straight after…” He shakes his head. “After.”
I slip closer to him, hip to hip. Look at him. “After what, Kane, please?”
His jaw is hard in the firelight, his beard longer now, less neatly trimmed than when I first met him. His huge, heavy shoulders are hunched. His large, powerful, rough hands snap a piece of wood into smaller and smaller pieces, which he tosses into the fire. This is after he roasted his sausages and made for me the corn cobs, and beans and rice together in the metal tins. Simple food, strange to me, but very good. Even the sausage smelled good, but I am not ready to take that step, not yet.
He does not speak for a very, very long time.
“Hard to talk about.” His voice is very low, very quiet. “I, uh. Shit.” His head hangs lower yet, eyes squeezing shut. “Not sure I can.”
I take his hand. “You can tell me.”
“It’s heavy, babe.Realfuckin’ heavy.”
I rest my chin on his shoulder, looking at him. “I have never carried anything, Kane. Not heavy, not light. Not anything.”
He lets out a breath. “Anjalee…”
“You can let me carry it for you. If it is heavy, that is okay. I am strong.” Chin on his shoulder, I touch his chest, over his heart—it beats very hard. “You have carried it alone for long enough. Now, you can give it to me.”
“Not sure you really understand what you’re askin’ for, honey.”
“No, I do not. How can I?” I press my palm harder to his heart. “I would take it from you, if you let me.”
He turns his head, looks at me. “Why do you want it?”
“You have given me a new life, Kane. I do not know what will happen, in the days to come. I wish…I wish it could always be this.” I gesture at the fire, the tent. “You and me, riding together, seeing this beautiful country—it is my home, but I have seennothing, not until now. I have done nothing. Been nowhere. Who am I? I do not know, Kane, but I know you are helping me to find out.” He goes to speak, but I touch his lips and keep going. “No, please, I am not done. So, why do I want to take this heavy thing from your heart? Because I can.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t know.”
“I do. Do I know what you will tell me? No, of course not. But I know I can carry it. You have much of the darkness in your eyes, Kane. Many heavy things you do not let anyone carry for you. You have given me a new life. You have made me free. So now, for you, I will take this thing.”
He stays quiet.
