I lowered my head. “I thought I was doing better than I am now,” referring to when we first decided to split up. “Sawyer was limping pretty badly and I thought I was in better shape than him. And I thought that Lydie should have her oldest sister to comfort her.”
Marshall nodded, no longer looking annoyed. He checked his watch again. “Well, it’s 1:30. According to the map, we’re still at least a four hours’ hike from the ranger station. Let’s break a little longer to perk us both up, and then we’ll head back to the avalanche.”
I nodded, but was biting back tears. We had set out to find help, and all we accomplished was tiring ourselves. Lydie was in pain, everyone was hungry, and without a tent and sleeping bags, we were going to be dangerously cold tonight. Marshall noticed my somber face and kindly said, “Marlee, it’s not your fault. We’re all working on just a few hours of sleep and only snacks and water.”
“But what about tonight? How will we keep warm?” Although Marshall and I were comfortable in short-sleeved shirts now, hiking low on the mountain, we knew full well that at night, especially above tree line, the temperature would be frigid.
Marshall remained calm and matter-of-factly answered, “We’ll all just huddle together with Lydie in the middle, and Sawyer and me on the edges. Maybe Sawyer and Ellie even made a wind block today with snow,” he added hopefully. “We’ll hike back to them, make a nice warm meal, and huddle up for the night.”
I was glad Marshall sounded so confident, and I wondered if he really felt that confident or if he was forcing himself to stay calm, much like I had done right after he rescued me from the avalanche. Somebody needs to stay calm, I thought as we turned and began hiking away from the ranger station, away from any progress we had made. My thoughts drifted to Lydie, Ellie and Sawyer, and I wondered who the one remaining calm in that group was.
Marshall must have been wondering the exact same question, because he suddenly said, “Who do you suppose is the calm one back in the snow?” And then he smiled mischievously, “I wonder if Sawyer and Ellie are cooperating today?”
Marshall laughed when I told him that our trains of thought were on the same track. “I can hardly believe how well those two are getting along this summer,” I quickly said. Such a drastic change was hard to ignore.
Marshall agreed, “It sure is a difference compared to the last eight years backpacking together. I just worry that at any moment Ellie will snap when it dawns on her that we’re in this predicament because of Sawyer’s idea for the moonlit peak hike. I don’t even want to think about what she’d say, or yell, at my brother.”
Marshall had a good point. Without Sawyer’s challenge for this hike, we’d probably be with our parents, safe and sound. Yet, we had all agreed to go along with Sawyer’s plan. But something about what Marshall said, that he didn’t want to think about what Ellie would yell at Sawyer, had me curious.
“You mean, guys care what girls say to, or yell at, them?” I suddenly asked.
Marshall looked at me, “Well, yeah,” he said, as if the fact was the most obvious truth in the world. “Marlee, guys practically live to impress girls. When a girl says something mean to us or about us, it hurts. I mean, if another guy says something mean, whether or not it’s true, it might make me mad, but I’ll get over it pretty soon. But when a girl talks bad about a guy,” he shook his head, “that does damage. Serious damage. What a girl says can pretty much make or break a guy.”
I was amazed to learn all of this. Having two sisters, I did not have much understanding about guys. While I knew boys, I had never thought of them as, I don’t know, vulnerable. They always seem so tough and thick-skinned. Even arrogant a lot of the time. “Has Ellie said something that hurt Sawyer before?” I asked, immediately thinking of her rude comments when Sawyer first introduced his midnight hike plan.
Marshall’s look told me that our trains of thought were again on the exact same track.
“Have I ever said something that hurt like that?” I grew worried about what I may have unknowingly said.
Marshall shook his head, “Nah, you’re like the mediator of your bunch. You’re usually nice and encouraging.” I was glad for his answer, and very glad for his disclosure, because now I would sure try to avoid being hurtful.
“How’s your headache?”
“Talking helps,” I said.
Marshall threw his head back and laughed, “Only a girl would get headache relief from talking!”
I playfully punched him on the arm and then quickly said, “Oh, no! Was that hurtful?”
Marshall theatrically clutched his arm and curled down to his knees with a mock groan.
“You know what I meant,” I defended.
Marshall nodded. “I’ve never been physically beaten up by a girl before. Just keep in mind that girls have the ability to verbally beat us up. But, like I said before, you’re pretty good about being decent with what you say. Just, you know, keep it in mind. For future reference. And don’t hesitate to share it with Ellie,” he concluded with a slight smile.
I smiled. “Thank you, Marshall.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s enough talking for me. Your turn,” he said good-naturedly.
5
When Marshall and I eventually slugged back to the base of the avalanche, he let out a long, low whistle. “Wow! That snowmass did more damage in one minute than a bulldozer could have done in a whole day,” he observed.
I simply nodded. I had to agree that the aftermath was nearly as frightening as the actual avalanche. Right now, though, I was so tired and hungry that I did not have enough energy to talk. We quickly spotted our group toward the ridge, probably another thousand feet ahead of us. Marshall largely waved his arms, but if they saw us, they did not wave back. I could see that they had lit a fire, probably in hopes of alerting anyone in search for us of our location. Though the smoke did not stand out like black on white, a search team would surely keep their eyes peeled for the slightest sign of our whereabouts.
Oddly, knowing that we were this close zapped me of energy. I would have thought that seeing the group in the distance would energize me, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. It was almost as if my body said, ‘This is close enough. You can rest now.’
Marshall noticed my fatigue, and politely slowed his pace. “You’re so close now, Marlee. Just another minute or two, and you can sit then. You made it this far. Keep going.” His coaching kept up until we finally reached talking-distance with Sawyer, Ellie and Lydie.
When he saw us, Sawyer jumped up, still favoring his right leg, and awkwardly jogged over to us with a look of confusion and concern. “Did you make it to the ranger station?”
I could not bring myself to look at anyone’s face. It was my fault that we did not make it.
Marshall pulled his brother off to the side as Ellie rushed to me, led me to a comfortable looking pile of snow, and sat me down next to Lydie, who was perched on a snow boulder. With a little imagination it could almost be like a beach chair. Okay, with a lot of imagination. Her left leg was braced from the knee to the ankle with two sticks and athletic tape, wrapped around her pant leg. Ellie explained to me that Sawyer told her that with a broken limb, it is imperative to stabilize the bones so that the broken edges do not rub against each other. Apparently that could lead to a medical emergency. With the stabilizing brace, Ellie explained, Lydie should be safe until we found professional help. I nodded, impressed with the medical lesson, and glad that Sawyer seemed to know at least a little bit about wilderness evacuation.
“Today Sawyer hiked to the ridge to check for cell service, but surprise, there isn’t any,” Ellie said as she stirred food cooking on the backpacking stove that amazingly survived the avalanche. “We haven’t really talked yet about what we should do next.”
“You look pooped!” Lydie announced.
I met her eyes and began to cry. “Lydie,” I sniffed, “I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t go any faster and we could see that we weren’t going to make it before the sun set. I’m so sorry we didn’t find help.” I buried my face in my hands and cried. Now how would we find help? Because of me, an entire day was wasted, and the very food that Ellie was preparing now was our only meal. Our supply of gorp was dwindling. At least we had no shortage of water. We could boil snow as long as our fuel for the camp stove lasted, which should be enough for several days. And I figured Sawyer probably had a water filter along too, for pumping water out of streams.
“Marlee, it’s okay,” Lydie chimed in a cute, sing-songy voice. I smiled then, and Ellie put an arm around my shoulders.
“Actually, Marlee,” Ellie stated, “Sawyer and I think Lydie’s leg is not as bad as we thought at first.” Lydie proudly nodded her head, making me smile again. “Once we moved her out of the snow, she was able to move it just enough to give us hope that the fracture is not as severe as it looked when we first saw her.” Relieved at the news, I took a close look at her leg, and sure enough, she had a tiny bit of mobility, though it hurt her to move it. “We’ve been keeping her on an anti-inflammatory,” Ellie assured me.
Even though Ellie gave a confident impression, I had a hunch that she was far more scared than she was letting show in her face, and I was afraid of what Sawyer would say about our plan now. Thinking of Sawyer reminded me of Marshall’s and my conversation on the hike, and now that I was sitting, I felt strong enough to talk.
“So girls,” I hushed and leaned toward them, sneaking a look behind me. The boys were still talking about ten feet away. “On our hike, Marshall really opened up and said something that I have to share with you.” Ellie’s and Lydie’s eyes widened as if they thought I was going to tell them where buried treasures lie. They were intent on what I was about to share. “I learned that guys are super–”
