“Hey, Ellie,” Sawyer stopped hiking and gestured to the group to set Lydie down. He stepped to Ellie and reached a hand toward her shoulder.
To his shock, Ellie swatted his hand and spun around, running away from us. Sawyer looked like he had touched a hot stove. Burned and startled. Feeling the need to explain, I hastily said, “She just doesn’t want to cry in front of you or in front of the group. Maybe you should go after her alone.”
Sawyer shook his head, and I was afraid he was giving up on my sister. I silently prayed that he would be able to forgive her. Again.
I sighed. “I’m so sorry, Sawyer. She’s embarrassed to cry in front of you,” I tried again.
“Why? After all we’ve experienced together in the last few days, why would a few tears over a terrifying encounter with an aggressive bear embarrass her?” Sawyer asked, sounding hurt and completely annoyed.
I shrugged, “Because she is afraid to be vulnerable. Because she doesn’t want you to think she’s weak.”
Sawyer shrugged, and then said, “I just keep messing up. I’ll let you go after her.”
“You don’t keep messing up!” I disagreed. “You have been a saint! You–”
“I have gone way out of my way to show Ellie kindness on this trip!” He countered, and then shook his head again. “That snobby girl is a moody know-it-all and if she can’t let go of her over-the-top perfectionism, there is no room for me in her life!” Sawyer yelled.
My heart sank when his words hit me. I actually felt the need to sit down. And then I saw Ellie’s face. None of us had noticed she was already walking back to us. Her face, mortified and hurt, told us that she had heard exactly what Sawyer yelled about her. My jaw dropped, and I leaned against a nearby tree. Sawyer thrust his hands into his sandy blond hair, obviously regretting his words. His expression as he saw Ellie’s was sheer dismay and remorse. He sank to his left knee, awkwardly sticking his right leg to the side, and clenched his fists, visibly angry with himself. Looking up at Ellie, he quickly tried to fix his wounding words. “Ellie, I lost my temper. I don’t really mean all that. Please let me try–”
“You’ve said quite enough, Sawyer,” Ellie interrupted. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she quickly wiped her face, shook her head, and coolly said, “Enough talking. More hiking.”
Sawyer’s face was beet red, and he kept his eyes on the ground. I could imagine how terrible he felt. I have said hurtful things before, and it is an awful feeling to know that something I said hurt another person. But Ellie was right that we needed to keep moving. Stopping for a conference might mend our group’s ties, but the top priority right now was Lydie.
Without a word from anyone, Sawyer stood, and the four of us squatted down to lift Lydie. She stirred again and sleepily asked how close to the ranger station we were. Sawyer kept his mouth shut and his eyes focused on the trail ahead. Marshall finally responded by saying, “We think we’re about two hours away. You’re doing just fine, Lydie. Try to drink some of your water bottle now. How do you feel?”
Lydie weakly said, “Okay, I guess,” before sipping from her water bottle.
12
I was painfully aware of the pressure of the rope on my shoulders. It wasn’t so much the weight that hurt, but the friction of the rope and the sweatshirt pressing against my shoulders. How much longer could I go on? How much longer until we would arrive at the ranger station? Where in the world were the rescuers? Surely they should have caught up to us. They must not have begun searching in the right place. What were they thinking? They were wasting precious time as our energy was waning. Ugh, what were we thinking? This whole mess was our fault.
Like a clap of thunder in the dark, I was suddenly reminded of a verse my mom often summarizes when I’m stressed out: “Whatever things are praiseworthy, think on these.” What a reminder. Berating myself and focusing on the negative would not help.
Just a few more steps, I told myself, changing my mantra. Just a few more steps. Hopefully changing my self-talk would therefore change my attitude.
Out of nowhere, Lydie’s stretcher slipped and I stumbled over her. “Owie!” she exclaimed as I landed on her injured leg. What had happened? I was weak. Very weak. Sawyer and Ellie turned around and Marshall gently set down his corner and stepped toward me. I must have unknowingly let the rope slide through my hands. I had dropped my sister! Letting my guard down had allowed negative thoughts to seep into my mind, and I had dropped my already-injured sister! A sob burst from me as I thought about this newest roadblock. Lydie groaned.
Sawyer and Marshall lifted me off Lydie and set me on the dirt ground. Sawyer and Ellie then rushed to Lydie, so Marshall began checking on me. I leaned back, propped on my elbows.
“Does anything hurt, Marlee?” he began.
I squinted at him. When did the sun get so bright? I wondered. My head felt a balloon. Light and unsteady.
Marshall leaned closer to me, intent on my eyes. “Marlee, does anything hurt?”
“My head.” It came out as a whisper. It took so much energy to speak.
I was tuned into the sound of Lydie’s groaning a few feet away. I was aware of Sawyer and Ellie arguing about what to do next. It sounded like Sawyer wanted us to continue to stick together, but Ellie thought that two strong hikers should move on alone in search of help.
“Enough bickering!” Marshall gruffly said.
“Marlee is ready to faint and you two are just quarrelling away all your energy!” Marshall pleaded.
Apparently his appeal grabbed their attention, because in a moment, six eyes were focused on me. Sawyer touched my shoulders, and asked if I could see him. Ellie instructed the others to help slowly lower me down onto my left side. When I felt the sun-warmed ground beneath my weary shoulder, I let out a big sigh. What I would give to sleep. And eat. “Just focus on breathing, Marlee,” Ellie shushed me.
Now that I was off my feet, I noticed how exhausted they were. Since we slept outside last night, we had had to keep our boots on. Though I love my hiking boots, they are restrictive, and nothing feels as good as taking them off at the end of a day on trail. What I would give to let my feet breathe, to let my muscles relax. To eat. To sleep. A tear rolled down my cheek, but nobody noticed. They were planning.
“I say we stay here and wait for the rescuers. We need to stay together,” Sawyer calmly explained.
“Obviously they’re not looking in the right place or they would have found us by now,” Ellie countered. “I say you two guys keep heading toward the ranger station. That way I’ll be with my sisters, and you can tell the rangers exactly where we are.”
With my eyes shut, I could picture Marshall’s disgusted expression as he told Ellie that he needed a break and wasn’t up to much more hiking.
“Splitting up at this point is not wise,” Sawyer stated.
“Seriously, where are the rescuers?” Ellie cut to the point. I heard her gasp and then ask, “What if they got injured? And it’s our fault? And then tons of people need help, except the rescuers need help too, so who will help any of us?”
I opened my eyes at that. I couldn’t find the energy to sit up, but I saw Ellie’s worried face. I saw Sawyer shake his head and I heard him assure her that the terrible scenario she envisioned was extremely unlikely. She wasn’t convinced. I could feel my pulse in my head.
“Ellie, even if that happened, God will never leave us or forsake us. Think about all the good things that have happened. We’re all alive. The injuries we do have are relatively manageable. The weather has been ideal.” He paused and then quietly said, “We need a group prayer.”
He lowered his voice and calmly prayed. He thanked God for our safety and progress and asked for a prompt rescue. He asked for strength, and after he said amen, I slowly opened my eyes. I hadn’t seen it before, but now I vaguely saw a small building behind the trees. Weird, I thought. It’s strange what fatigue and hunger can do to a mind. The thought that I was seeing imaginary things scared me, so I closed my eyes again.
Sawyer leaned down to check on me. I felt mostly asleep as he shook my shoulder. Maybe I had dreamt the sight of a building in the near distance. I dared another peek, and it was still there. I continued to try to focus my eyes on it when I noticed Sawyer studying me with concern. “What is that?” I asked. But I wasn’t loud enough. He didn’t hear me.
“What did you say, Marlee?” he asked.
“I see something,” I finally managed an audible tone. Sawyer’s eyes shot up to survey our surroundings.
