The summer felt relentless under the hot July sky.  I’m not sure if it was the heat, the humidity, or the fact that for the first time in my life, I felt like I didn’t have a direction - whatever the reason, it pushed on my chest like a tickle that wasn’t quite ready to be a cough.  This is what anxiety feels like, I thought.  

I sat on swing looking over the valley and gently pushed myself back and forth, forcing a breeze to blow over me.  I mentally went through a list of activities I could grab onto rather than staring into the abyss but found that none of them called to me.  The garden had been tended to, I’d already spent hours reading, I had no desire to draw and I couldn’t think of anything interesting in the area that I hadn’t already snapped photos of.  So I swung.  And tried to reframe my boredom as conscious relaxation.

My phone buzzed and I picked it up.  A text from my cousin: “Stuck at work for another rotation.  Won’t be able to go camping this weekend.  Sorry!  Feel free to grab my kayak and head out on your own.”

I wasn’t all that disappointed.  The summer heat had drained me of my ability to feel big emotions.  I quickly replied and set my phone down, continuing to swing.  Would I head out on my own?  I mulled it over and decided that I likely wouldn’t.  He’d be home in a few weeks and we could head out then.  In the mean time, I’d do my best to stay hydrated and sane.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

That night, or I guess morning, at about 4am I awoke in a startled panic with my legs trapped in my sheets.  I’d been having another fever dream and my feet had managed to wind my bed linens into an unrelenting knot.  As the nights grew hotter, my dreams got stranger.  This time, I dreamt of a time long ago when cooling down wasn’t the issue - keeping warm was.  

I’d gone up north to work shortly after I graduated from university.  Jobs in journalism were hard to come by and there were generally more of us wanting to write than there were jobs for writing staff.  I had stayed longer than expected but this was apparently a common quirk in the community.  Nearly half of everyone I spoke to either came from parents who had initially only planned to stay for a year or were themselves individuals who had only planned to stay for a year.  “Just one year” was a common joke.  I joked that the northern lights cast spells on people, committing them to the north.  No one really thought that was funny.  Reading a room was never my strong point.

I had been lucky with my move - I fell in with a great group of like minded people.  We craved adventure, we didn’t need much to live off and we generally felt like cultivating experiences was more important than cultivating things.  I got work with a local paper and wrote unimportant stories about missing garbage bins and pesky ravens.  I doubt anyone read my pieces but it gave me the freedom to have fun and develop my voice as a writer.  Once my voice was adequately developed, I moved back down south to find a job at a “real newspaper”.  Sometimes I felt bad for leaving the north.  Sometimes I missed it.

Once I’d freed my legs from their cotton-blend prison, I tried to fall back asleep.  That wasn’t going to happen.  I sat up and went to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.  I sat outside and noticed how deafeningly quiet the valley was.  I couldn’t help but think about how different this was to my old neighbourhood in the city.  A mix of emotions immediately set in - longing and fear.  I missed my home so much but was scared to go back.  Ground zero of losing myself.     

Over the next few days, my life was a monotonous routine of coffee, swinging, reading and restlessness.  One hour slipped into the next, into the next and I soon realized that I was losing track of the days.  As I sat swinging - again - It dawned on me that I was waiting for someone else to push me out of my lethargy.  Simultaneously I sensed that “someone else” didn’t exist.  That evening, I packed my car with my camping gear and readied to leave the following morning.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I was up with the sun so that I could get some driving under my belt before I was required to use half of my tank on A/C.  I stopped at a gas station about an hour out of town and topped up on gas and coffee.  I sent a text off to a friend, Ginny, who lived on the coast - “Hey, making a trip out to your neck of the woods.  Be there in about a week.  You around?”  In a straight shoot, I could make it to G’s in one very long day.  I decided it would be better to take my time with this trip, though.  What was the rush?  

I got back into my car and tried to rip open the plastic on a snack-pack of pepperoni.  It was stubborn and refused to budge.  My stomach made a demanding noise and I reached into my glove compartment for the little knife I kept with me when I traveled.  With a momentarily satisfied stomach, I shifted into gear.  There was a trail I was familiar with another couple of hours down the road.  I’d park and hike up to the waterfall for lunch.  As I drove along, the sun rose into the sky and burnt off any cloud cover.  I flipped the A/C on and my sunglasses down, grateful for these little comforts.  

Just as I turned into the parking lot at the trail head, my phone went off.  It was G - “Hey hey. I’ll be around and the guest house is free so I’ll make up the bed.  By the way - are you still funemployed?  I know someone who’s looking to hire.  Not quite remote work, though so it would likely involve some travel or potentially a move.  I’ll tell you more when you land if you’re interested.  Stoked to see you, drive safe!”

Ginny was an incredibly reliable friend.  She’d always been the responsible one in the group.  Not boring by any means - but a little smarter about how she’d handled the wild escapades of youth.  She was the one who would set water by everybody’s bed before we went out and made sure that we had a buddy system in place.  It was no surprise that she ended up being the first of our friend group to move out of the city and buy a house.  

I set off down the trail with my lunch in my pack but soon realized that the route I was used to taking was blocked off.  I backed myself up and took a look at the map that I’d always ignored.  A young family walked by and noticed me examining the map.  

“Most of the trails are closed. Damage from last year’s fire” said the group’s mother.  

“Oh.” I replied “That makes sense.  Can you still get up to the waterfall on the open trails?”  “Yeah, just takes a bit longer.  That’s where we’re headed, you’re welcome to join.”  

I looked over at the group of children goofing off with one another while their dad tried to apply sunscreen to their faces.  

“Thanks, I think I will.”

They started up the trail and I followed behind.  Within a few minutes, the youngest of the kids hung back, waiting on me.  

“Do you always walk alone in the woods?”  

“I mean, not always.  Sometimes.  I don’t generally like strangers.”  

He thought about this hard for a minute while we walked along.  

“You know, that’s probably not a very good idea - walking all by yourself.  What if you fell and got hurt or what if there was an animal that you couldn’t scare off on your own?”  

“Those are really good points.”  I replied.  

We walked I silence for a while.  

“I’m glad you did today, though.  Because you got to become my friend.”  

“Also a really good point.”  

I smiled as we weaved our way upwards.  I missed the days when making friends wasn’t fraught with anxiety.

We came to the top of the falls and the kids broke out into a victory dance.  I couldn’t help but smile at the uninhibited joy they carried from this small success.  I sat with their parents as they pulled out sandwiches, veggies and water bottles.  

“Are you from around here?”  The dad asked.  

“Sort of.  Living near Peachland these days.  You?”  

“Yeah, we settled in the valley a few years ago.  Long way to drive for a day hike, especially in this heat.”  

“I’m on my way to visit some friends.  I used to come up here every summer and thought it’d be a good place to stop for lunch.  I’m glad I ran into you guys.  The trail I usually take is closed.”  

“The one that goes around the north end of the hill?  That’s the one we used to take as well.  Had to improvise when we came up about a month ago.  But you know, I’m glad we did.  I wouldn’t have come this way otherwise and it’s a pretty nice trail.  Just long.”

The air outside the car cooled as the day gently folded into evening.  The sun was far from setting but the persistent growl in my stomach told me that I should have eaten dinner an hour ago.  I wasn’t tired but knew that I’d be an idiot to drive into the darkness and then attempt to set up a tent in the pitch black.  A friend of a friend was working as a park ranger at a site closer to the city.  It was the middle of the week so getting a spot last minute was a good possibility.  I still had time to hit the site before night fall.  I explained this to my stomach and promised it a meal once we were set up for a few days.

As I turned off the highway and towards the site, my heart sank.  A sign indicated that the campsite was full and reservations were required.  I inched up to the window at the welcome hut regardless, hopeful that maybe someone had missed their reservation or that they kept spaces open for drop-ins.  

“Reservation number” The park ranger stated more than asked.  

“I don’t have one.” I replied.  

“We’re completely booked up, if you don’t have a reservation, you’ll have to try somewhere else.”

I had heard that the new system in place for booking campsites was bonkers but ever the optimist, I’d hoped that there had been an element of exaggeration regarding this news.  There was not.  I considered turning around and keeping on down the road but knew that my luck would be relatively the same at the next spot and the spot after that.  I didn’t like name-dropping, especially when the name was one I hardly knew myself but I liked sleeping in my car even less.  

“Is Bryn around?”  The ranger’s ears perked.  

“Uh, yeah.  He’s probably in his cabin.  Is he expecting you?”  

“Doubtful.”  The ranger thought for a moment, nodding.  

“I can see if he’s still on radio, let him know you’re going to stop in.”  

“I’d appreciate that.”  The ranger nodded some more.  

“And what’s your name?”  

“Grace.”  

“Nice to meet you, Grace.  I’m Morgan.”  

Morgan slid the window closed and fiddled with the radio.  After a couple of minutes, she lifted the gate and waved me in.  I must have left her with the impression that I’d been here before because she didn’t give me any further directions.  I’d been to enough provincial parks though to know their basic set up and made a general assumption about where they would have built the cabins meant for long-term employees.  I lucked out and found myself heading in what must have been the right direction, given that I came across Bryn walking towards me on the road.  I slowed and rolled down my window.  

“Grace?”  

“Yeah.  Bryn?”  

“Yeah.  It’s nice to meet you in person.  How long are you looking to stay?”  

“I was hoping a few days but, you look pretty full.”  

“You can stay in one of the ranger cabins but I’ll be putting you to work.”  

“That’s good for me.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

In bed, I tried not to let every uncertainty about the past few years and where my life was headed bombard me as I laid there in the silence.  This seemed to be a nightly fight.  Most nights I won and drifted off to a sleep filled with odd but not necessarily unsettling dreams.  Tonight was not a winning night.  My mind raced with “what ifs” while simultaneously pounding me with a singular sentence: “You failed.  You failed.  You failed.”  

My parents and siblings always tried to highlight how brave I was for trying in the first place - most people don’t shoot so high and I should be proud of myself for even putting myself in the ring.  I didn’t want to pat myself on the back for being brave.  I wanted to write.  I wanted to share my perspective and hope against all hope that it resonated with even one person.  I wanted to stretch people’s imaginations and give them a laugh.  I wanted to make someone’s day brighter or grow someone’s world with my words.  I stopped trying to keep the tears back and let them slip down my cheeks in the dark.  I’d been well on my way.  How did I fall so far from my path?  

Consciously, I forced myself to stop this thought pattern.  

“Ugh.  Take a step back.”  

I mentally stepped through a doorway leaving those feelings and thought patterns in the dark room.  

“I am tired.  This is causing me to feel sad.  This is me feeling sad.”  

I walked through another mental doorway.  

“And this is me noticing that I’m feeling sad.”  

Another doorway. 

“And this is me noticing that I’m noticing that I’m feeling sad.”  

I continued this process until the overwhelm of past and future felt far away and I was left with just the present moment: my breath, a pillow and my trusty sleeping bag.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The early morning light shone through the window and illuminated the small space that had been offered to me.  It was cute.  A single bed, a desk and chair, a teeny-tiny kitchen complete with camp stove and a bucket that I’d hoped I’d never have to use.  The view from the window was stunning.  The tree canopy immediately drowned my feelings of self-pity and put me in a better headspace.  Yes - I’d fallen off course.  Yes - it would be easier to close that chapter and start in a new direction.  Yes - I’d likely be asked a million and one times why I tried again when it clearly hadn’t worked the first time.  But I was stubborn if anything at all and tenacious to boot.  I had made it too far and shown myself too much of what I was capable of to leave it on the shelf.  Besides, what else was I going to do with my life?  I knew I wouldn’t stop pushing at this until I actually tried to do it right.

It had been a while since I’d written anything more than a post card.  I had previous publications that potentially still held weight but I’d need to prove that I hadn’t just been sitting around for the last three years waiting for someone to pick me up.  I decided in that moment to start writing articles about everything and anything.  I’d put myself in positions to write about the life that was unfolding around me.  Stories were everywhere, you just had to find them.  

I boiled water on the little camp stove and made myself a cup of coffee.  Once poured, I stepped out onto the cabin’s front porch.  Bryn apparently had the same start of day routine.  His was the next cabin over and he sat serenely on the porch taking in the morning with a steaming cup in hand.  I walked over.

“Yo.”  

“Good morning” he responded.  

“Mind if I join you?”  

“Not at all.”  

It was just a few minutes after six and the campground wasn’t stirring yet.  We sat for a few beats in silence, each sipping on our coffee.  

“Thanks again… for the cabin”. 

“No problem.  Any friend of Ginny’s is a friend of mine.  Besides, we’re not total strangers.  We were both in her online book club during those pandemic days.  We just hadn’t had the opportunity to meet in person yet.”

“Agreed.”  

A flicker made noise in the distance and I thought about the way their tongues would wrap around their brain when they hammered into a tree to stop themselves from being concussed.  I wished there was something like that for when you were falling from a secure place in life.  Something to wrap around your brain and stop it from reeling.  I guess there kind of was.  Delusional people are delusional for a reason.  

“Hey, while we’re working together over the next couple of days, do you mind if I ask you some questions and write a piece about this place?”  

Bryn chuckled.  

“I mean, sure.  But it’ll be a pretty boring piece.  There’s not much going on here.”  

I smiled and sipped my coffee.  

“Good.  I like a challenge.”  

“That’s great to hear.  Because we’re going to be starting the day off by cleaning out houses.”   My smile dropped.  

Bryn laughed.  

“Joking.”  

“I would have done it.”  

“I’m willing to bet that’s true.”  

“So, what are we going to do?”  

“Check on the weather station just north of the site and send a maintenance report.  Walk the trails and check for signs of bears.  See if we can get the pool working.  I think some kids jammed something into the filter last week.”  

“I thought you said there isn’t much going on here.”  

“If checking for animal poop and cleaning out pool filters is exciting to you, then I think you need to get back to the city for a bit.”

I forced out a chuckle and immediately turned my face down into my coffee, letting the steam and the smell overpower my senses.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I was tired by the time I went to bed.  Bryn was right.  Checking the weather station and inspecting the pool wasn’t nearly as exciting as I’d built it up to be in my head but it was still something.  As I washed up, my brain started to puzzle together different elements of the day to see what would fit together.  Where was the story?  What was its essence.  I didn’t need to fight back the feeling of failure as I drifted to sleep.  Truthfully, it was the best sleep I’d had in weeks, months maybe.  

The following day was more or less the same.  The routine of the day started to show itself which helped me to better understand what life was like in this space for Bryn and his coworkers.  I knew that this was where the heart of my piece would lie so I thought it would be good to get to know everyone a bit better.  I relayed this to Bryn and he suggested gathering everyone for dinner in the main cabin the following day.  I liked this idea.  It felt like a good way to finish off my time at the site.  I spent the rest of the day shadowing Bryn and taking in as much information as possible.  

The following afternoon, I made my way to the main cabin.  It resembled a mess hall with seating at one end and a small kitchen at the other.  It was the type of place that Girl Scouts would rent out for an afternoon excursion.  In the kitchen, I spotted a man singing to himself as he stood at the counter cutting potatoes.  

“Can I help?”

The cutting stopped and the man turned around to greet me.  Around 6 foot and medium built, he looked an extension of the kitchen. 

“You’re Grace?”

“That sounds like something you’d say to royalty.”

“Are you?”

“Am I royalty?  Not as far as I know.  Am I Grace?  Yeah, I am.”

He laughed.

“Grab a knife and help me cut up the potatoes.  Wedge style.  Cutting boards are in that cupboard over there.”

I pulled up next to him with the necessary tools and started working on a few potatoes.  A new song came on over the speakers he turned up the volume.

“If you’re working in my kitchen, you have to sing along.”

“Oh, I really don’t think you want that.”

“Oh, now I know I really do.”

“So I guess there’s a reason you work in a kitchen alone.”

He turned the music up a bit more, pointed to the speaker and started singing along to one of those rock classics that lasts about 8 minutes.  I hated singing but knew this was a way to build trust between us so I sang along.  

A few songs in, I turned the speaker down to allow space for conversation.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t toss it to you.”

“Oh is the karaoke star shy?”

“No.  Just cheeky.”

I chuckled.  There was a pause in our chatter.

“Taylor.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Taylor.”

Having finished with his pile of potatoes, Taylor swiftly placed them in an ice bath and moved onto the next part of prep.  I continued to clumsily cut potatoes.

“I get the sense you’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, I’ve worked in a lot of kitchens.”

“What brought you to this one?”

“I think I just needed a break from the city.  From loud demanding spaces.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s something thrilling about being in a kitchen that is running like a well-oiled machine - every cog doing its part perfectly but….”

I could feel the discomfort in Taylor’s voice - like talking about this had brought him right back into a busy kitchen at peek hours on a weekend night.  I had to fight my instincts to let him off the hook by making some comment that insinuated that I could relate.  I had to let him tell his story if I wanted to write it.

“I don’t think a person’s nervous system is built to withstand that kind of high-energy-output for like, your entire life.  That’s not to say I won’t go back, but I needed some recovery time.  I needed some space to decompress.”

“The forest seems like the right place to do that.”

“Yeah.  The pay isn’t extraordinary, but… I don’t have to pay rent, I cook for a nice group of people and get to spend the rest of my time in silence so…”

Another pause and I waited for him to keep going but he didn’t.  Sometimes there’s nothing more to say.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Around 6:30, the rest of the staff from the site piled into the cabin.  There were less than ten of them in total.  Morgan, who I’d already met, put a radio off to the side and cranked it up so that the team would hear any incoming calls.  There was a casual flow to everyone’s essence as they settled in to their spots at the table.  Taylor and I brought everything from the kitchen and placed it down.  Everyone cheered and Taylor laughed, bowing in jest.  As we sat, people joyfully took turns introducing themselves to me and piling their plates with food.  Wine was passed around, though poured modestly as the group would still need to step up if something happened on the grounds.  

The dark had securely set in by the time Taylor, Bryn, Morgan and myself cleaned up the cabin.  There was a comfortable, happy air to the space that was potentially impacted by the pleasant buzz I was feeling from the wine.  

“I really appreciate you letting me into your space and sharing your company with me over the last few days.”

Morgan smiled.

“It’s been really nice having you.  And we’ll always take an opportunity to feast.”

“Thank you for helping me with prep this evening.” Taylor pipped in.

“Even though my singing was atrocious?”

He laughed.

“I wouldn’t call it atrocious.  Just… you have your own sound.”

Morgan threw a tea towel at him playfully.

“This is why no one cooks with you, Taylor.”

Everyone laughed. 

The last tables were wiped and the lights turned down.  We locked up the cabin and stepped outside.  

Taylor turned to me.

“So I guess you’ll be off in the morning.”

“Yeah, it seems that way.”

Bryn stepped into the conversation.

“You know, if you’re writing a piece about our site, I don’t think it would be right for you to go without seeing some of the better trails.  I had you working the whole time and didn’t give you the chance to really take in what makes this space unique.”

Morgan saw the direction of the conversation and jumped in as well.

“I couldn’t agree more.  And you know, Taylor has the day off tomorrow.  He could take you out for a few hours before you head off.”

I looked over at Taylor.  He’s ears had turned red as he stared at his two friends with a “What are you doing” look on his face.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose on your day off but-“

“Oh, you wouldn’t be imposing.” Morgan chirped.  “Taylor is always spending his days off wandering through the forest.  What’s the harm in tagging along, right Taylor?”

Through gritted teeth Taylor responded.

“Right, Morgan.  I’ll pop by your cabin in the morning and pick you up.”

There was an inside joke here that I wasn’t picking up on but I wasn’t bothered by that.  I was happy to spend a few more hours with Taylor and this crew before hitting the road once more.  I played with the idea of stopping in again on my way back to the valley.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The next morning I awoke early and packed up my things.  I put on the water for my coffee and once prepared, I sat outside and enjoyed the quiet of the forest one last time.  Half way through my second cup, Taylor arrived.  He waved, I waved, but neither of us said anything.  He sat in the empty chair next to me and pulled out his thermos.  We sat and sipped as the temperature slowly rose.  

After half an hour, the sun was sitting higher and the sound of campers waking up and moving through their morning penetrated the slow, still air.  Taylor cleared his throat.  

“Might be good for us to hit some of the trails before it gets too busy.”

I wondered what “too busy” was for someone who used to work in fast-paced kitchens.

“Sounds good.  I’ll grab my camera and we can head out.”

The trails we took were meandering but generally led us upwards.  By mid day, we reached a set of tunnels that were once used by trains to deliver goods across the province.  It was startling to think of a train fitting through such a tight space.  It must have worked, though, because there was no indication of accidents along the inside walls.  Maybe we just took space for granted these days.  

Taylor sat down and I followed suit.  Out of his bag, he pulled a picnic lunch.  He was blushing again and I wondered if cracking a joke would lighten the mood or send him into a deeper state of embarrassment.  

“I thought I heard singing coming from your cabin this morning.”

“It makes the food taste better - I swear.”

It was nearing dusk by the time I pulled out of the campsite.  Bryn suggested I stay one more night and head off in the morning but I politely declined for a couple of reasons - first, the later I landed in the city, the fewer hours I’d have to be there before catching a ferry to the coast.  Second - I wanted to give myself some space from Taylor.  The urge to hold his hand had increased exponentially as we’d made our way back to the camp site and I needed some time and space to consider what this meant to me.   

The city was only about a two hour drive from the campsite which meant I could land, sleep, and head out in the morning before the sun came up.  Draped in darkness, it would hardly even feel like my old home.

I climbed into the hills and was grateful for the rally-like curves that kept me alert as I drove along.  An indicator light lit up on my dashboard and immediately, I went from alert to anxious.  There was still light in the sky but barely and I didn’t like the idea of being stopped on the side of the road at nightfall.  I wanted to ignore the light and keep driving until I hit the city but I knew better than that.  This car was reliable but only because it had been treated well.  I wasn’t about to start abusing its limits.

I pulled over and pulled out the driver’s manual.  From what I could tell, the indicator light was essentially saying “You’re not going to break down immediately but get this car to a shop as soon as you can.”  That took some weight off my chest and I breathed a little easier.  Still, I decided I should check the fluid levels just in case.  I popped the hood and stepped out.

I squinted while trying to decipher how much oil was on the wand when I heard something to my left.  A black truck had pulled up close and parked along my passenger side.  I did my best not to make a snap judgement regardless of every hair on my body standing on end.  From the driver’s window, a medium built man looked down on me.  His eyes shone in a way that I instantly hated.

“You alright.”

“Yeah - no problems here, thanks.”

“You look like you need help.”

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving.  I’m fine.”

“Awe, don’t be like that, let me help.”

He opened his door and hopped out, leaving his truck running.  Immediately I thought about my knife, which was inconveniently sitting in my glove box.  I quickly replaced the oil wand and dropped the hood of my car.  The sun had fully dipped below the trees at this point and it was really starting to get dark.  I went to move towards the driver’s side door but the uninvited man had slipped behind me while I was lowering the hood.  He stood like a menacing wall between me and my only safe space.  I was instantly aware that he looked much bigger on the ground than he did in his truck.

“I’m really fine but thank you for stopping to check on me.”

He made a step closer and I gripped my keys between my knuckles.  I knew for a fact that I would likely end up with more damage than him if I was forced to make that move but it was better than the damage I’d receive if I didn’t try anything at all.

Just then a set of headlights shone on both of us - another truck pulled off into the rest stop.  

“Fuck.”  I thought inwardly while trying to keep a composed external air.

I heard the door on the second truck open and a set of boots hit the ground.  I quickly assessed what my options were and truthfully, there didn’t seem to be many that didn’t include defecating.

“Sorry it took me so long to catch up.  Aunty kept loading me up with stuff.”

It was a woman’s voice.  Shocked, I looked over.  The woman, who seemed to be about my age, was giving me the desperate “Just go with it!” expression.  Grateful, I took her bait and ran with it.

“Got half her shed in the back of your truck now?”

“Pretty much.”

“All good.  This man was just…. Checking in on me.”

The man slowly walked back to his truck and stepped inside, annoyed.

“Yeah… looked like she was in some kind of trouble.”

“I think we’ve got it from here.” Said my new friend.

The man nodded and rolled up his window.  He turned and left and I made note of his license plate number.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.  Just… a little…. Shook.”

“I get it.”

“Thanks for stopping.”

“Of course.  Women have to look out for one another.  I wish that wasn’t the case but it is.  So…. Your car okay?”
“Yeah, should be fine, needs a mechanic but I should make it to the city.”

“Should isn’t great this time of night.  Wanna convoy?”

“That’d be great.”

“My husband’s a mechanic.  He can check it over if you want.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, you can stay in our spare room.  He can take a look at it in the morning.”

I hesitated.  I knew that logically this woman wouldn’t go out of her way to hurt me after saving me from a creep but my body and brain were still on high-alert, looking for any signs of danger.  

“Sure, yeah. Thank you.”

“I’m Jill, by the way.”

“Grace.”

“Nice to meet you."

I got back into my car and sent a quick text to my friends Raina and Craig, letting them know about the change in plans.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I awoke the next morning with one of those “Where am I” moments.  The hike and the high anxiety of the evening had drained me and I’d slept like an absolute log.

I went out to the kitchen and was immediately comforted by the smell of coffee.  Jill poured me a cup and motioned to her husband who was sitting at the table.

“This is my husband Theo.”

I sat with my coffee and reached forward to shake his hand.  

“Grace.”

“Clumsy.” He replied.  I laughed.

“I hear you’re having car trouble.”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

“I’d be grateful if you did.”

After we drank up our liquid fuel, we headed out to the street and I popped the hood.  Theo tinkered and after a prolonged few minutes, he dropped the hood.

“It looks like your transmission is leaking.”

“That doesn’t sound great.”

“It’s not - but it’s not the worst.  Usually a pretty quick repair.  I can bring it down to the shop, if you’d like.  We have a pretty full bill today but I should be able to get it done later this afternoon.”

“Honestly, that would be amazing.  Thank you so much.”

I tried not to sweat at the thought of my current bank account balance and how much this could impact it.  Being funemployed meant that the money coming in was limited and I really needed to make it last.  I’d budgeted out this trip and had a small stash for emergencies but this could be a bigger emergency than I’d planned for.

Theo seemed to read my mind and interrupted my thoughts that were on the verge of spiralling.

“Jill mentioned that you’re heading to the island.”

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

“You know, we have a huge box of parts that we need to ship out that way.  It would save us a nice chunk of change if you delivered them for us.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.  We’ll call it a trade.  You take the parts, we’ll fix the car.”

“That’s… so nice.  Why would you do that?  You hardly know me.”

Theo shrugged.

“Because I can, I suppose.”

“Thank you.  Yes, that would be great.  Thank you.”

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An hour later, Jill and Theo were both heading to work and I was left to my own devices.  I stood at the front door of their home and took slow deep breaths as I readied myself to walk out into the city.  I could feel an odd pressure inch up my body towards my face and I did my best to steady it.  This was not a part of the plan.

Theo and Jill had a beautiful front porch.  Because of the incline of the street that they lived on, it offered an uninterrupted view of the city’s skyline and a peek of the water’s edge.  This was the city that I had called home.  This was the city I had walked out of when no other paths felt present.  My face tingled but surprisingly, I didn’t cry.  I held onto the stairwell for an extra second to make sure that my feet were sturdy beneath me and I headed down onto the street.

Raina, Craig and their son Jason lived about a twenty minute walk from where I was staying.  Craig was on paternity leave and Raina worked from home so luckily my automotive misfortunes didn’t rob me of my chance to see them.

I moved down the street and took in the canopy of trees that protected me.  Moments from my past snuck into my mind and I used my meditative skills to acknowledge them and let them go.  “This is just a sidewalk.” I told my frightened brain.  “It can’t hurt you.  Unless you trip and fall.  And then it can hurt you but really, maybe gravity is to blame in that case.”  Humour, my therapist told me, was something I used to protect myself.  Maybe so, but I was grateful for it.

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I could hear the sound of jovial giggles as I rounded the condo complex.  Raina and Craig owned a garden level unit in the building which granted them the opportunity to still have a modest “yard” for their son to play in while living directly in the city.  Ignorant people would say that they “lucked” into this but I knew that they had spent years living in apartments that were too tight for the two of them while they sought out their forever home.  They’d saved diligently and kept their eye on the prize so that when the opportunity came around, they could pounce.  Their space was modest in size but thanks to Raina’s eye for design and Craig’s handy skills, it was a stunning space.  

I opened the nearly hidden gate and let myself into their patio space where Jason was playing.  “Aunty!” My reflexes were immediately put to the test as Jason dove from his play house and into my arms.  Craig poked his head out of their home at the noise.

“Hey!  Just in time!  Raina, she’s graced us!”  The tired joke from college somehow always brought a smile to my face.  I put Jason down and took an always-awkward hug from Craig.  The awkwardness wasn’t due to romantic history or repressed words, but from the fact that Craig had always walked through the world like he was still getting used to the skin he was living in.

Raina walked out of the condo with a tray of coffee and mugs.  She placed them down on a table with near urgency and enveloped me in a sisterly hug that bordered on mothering.  “It’s been too long.” She always held me in a rocking hug for longer than you’d expect.  “It hasn’t been that long.”  I replied.  “It’s always too long, life is too short.”  She pulled away and examined me from head to toe.  If Ginny was the responsible one in our friend group, then Raina was the over-bearing one.  Except it was never unwelcome.  While Ginny was making sure we all had exit-buddies on our excursions, Raina was texting her from the comfort of her home asking what time we’d be over for brunch the next morning.

We all sat down as Raina poured out our coffees.  Jason climbed into my lap like a professional scaler.  In his hand was a magnifying glass which he used to examine the buttons on my top and the frays on my shorts.  It was always awkward trying to drink my coffee around him and I was low-key anxious about the idea of spilling the scalding liquid on his perfect little arms while he squirmed around.  His parents didn’t seem concerned.  In response to my constant surveillance of my cup to Jason proximity Raina chirped in “Don’t worry about it.  He knows what coffee is and he knows it’s not fun to be spilled on, isn’t that right little jumping bean.”

Raina was a natural mother and had that beautiful gift of being firm with her child and playful simultaneously.   She wore exhaustion with elegance and couldn’t help but smile at her child - completely in love with him.  It was funny to think of Craig as a father but he wore the title well.  His dry humour coupled with his goofy demeanour kept Jason giggling.  Over time, I’d watched them turn their basic patio into the oasis that it currently was - complete with a small patch of lawn, a raised garden bed and a playhouse that looked like something from one of the books I’d read and re-read in early childhood.

We chatted easily about Jason’s adventures in daycare, Raina’s work and Craig’s next home-reno projects.  When our second cups of coffee were being poured, the question came.  “And what about you?  When are you coming home?”.  I laughed at the question and how absurd it felt bouncing around my brain.  “Truthfully, I don’t really know where home is anymore.”  They let the silence hang as my heart formulated my next thoughts.  “I miss you guys and I miss this city.  But I don’t know - I just don’t know where I’m meant to be going anymore.”

“Are you still writing?” Craig was always a super-supporter of my work.  He was a great person to bounce ideas off of and would be direct in his feedback - even when that feedback was that you’d just spent several months on a pile of steaming boring.

“Funny you should ask.  I hadn’t been.  But I just dusted off the old pen and picked it up again.”

“That’s good!”

“Aunty come into my play house.”  Jason had grown restless with the adults being adults and could no longer contain his need to run and play.  Grateful for the temporary escape from finding answers for myself and others, I took him up on his invitation and followed him to the small wooden structure at the edge of the property.

Jason climbed in and beckoned me in after him.  I had to curl my knees up to my nose to fit in but did so happily as I was given the “tour”.

“And this is where I keep my rocks - this one if my favourite because it has pink spots on it - and this is where my cape goes and…”

He went on, rambling away and I rested my head on my knees in contentment, nodding along and asking questions periodically.  I remembered my playhouse as a kid and the hours that me and my friends would spend it in.  I was grateful that I’d had a space like that in which to grow my imagination and was so happy that Jason had the same.  

The sun slowly played across the sky as we all spent the day sipping on coffee, nibbling on lunch and enjoying each other’s friendship.  Before I knew it, Craig was excusing himself to get dinner ready and Raina was urging me to stay.  I thanked them graciously but told them that I should get back to my new friends who might worry themselves if I didn’t return when I said I would.  We hugged some more and I promised to visit more often.  

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On the walk back to Jill and Theo’s, I stopped at the neighbourhood market and bought some fancy chips and cupcakes - they always had the best cupcakes.  It was a small token of thank you but relative to my current back account balance, it was a pretty big gift.  

I thought back on the conversation between Craig, Raina and myself - the one about home.  I’d like to say that some answer magically came and sat on my shoulder, tittering direction into my ear but that’s not the case.  I still had no idea where I was going or what would become of my life.  I did, however, notice that my feet felt more firmly planted on the ground.  It no longer felt like I was walking on eggshells - afraid of the city, afraid of my life and although I still had a lot to figure out, that was still something.

I walked up to Jill and Theo’s and noticed that my car was parked again on the street in front of their place.  

“All fixed up.” Theo called from the front porch where they sat sipping on beer.

“Thank you.” I replied.

I sat down next to them and pulled out the chips and cupcakes.  

“Got something for before dinner and something for after.”

“That’s great! We’ve just ordered pizza.  It should be here in about a half hour.  Want a beer?”

“Sure!”

Jill got up to grab me a beer and I leaned back and looked out across the street to where the city peeked through the trees.

“Good day?” Theo asked.

“Yeah.  Really good.  You?”

Theo shrugged.  “No complaints.”

Jill returned and the three of us sat in easy silence watching the neighbourhood buzz around us.  It was a perfect summer day and to my surprise, the thought of heading out the next morning made me a little sad.  

It was still early when I sat on the ferry looking out at the vast, open blue.  I’d taken one of the first ferries across, not wanting to wait all day in a line up.  Jill and Theo were up with coffee made when I came out of their spare room.  Even though we’d just met and had spent less than 72 hours together, I sensed we would end up being friends for a long time.  I made a mental note to introduce them to Craig and Raina next time I was in town and smiled at the thought of my friend family growing another branch on its already hardy tree.

The water was relatively calm and I scanned for whales.  There weren’t any to be found but I wasn’t disappointed.  Ginny’s place on the island offered plenty of opportunities for wildlife spotting and she kept binoculars close by at all times.  I sipped my coffee and let my mind wander.  Surprisingly, it wandered back to Taylor in the camp kitchen.  I wondered where he called home.  Even more surprisingly, I wondered what home would feel like with him.

The announcer came on over the ship’s intercom system, alerting us to return to our vehicles.  I pulled out my phone and sent Ginny a text, updating her on my expected timeline.  I still had the better part of a day’s drive ahead of me and would likely make one or two stops along the way for food or to stretch my legs.  She texted back right away, letting me know that she’d be at a town meeting in the evening but that she’d leave the door unlocked and to let myself in.  How nice, I thought, to live in a community where you had to worry more about wildlife than you did about people.

Once I was in my car, I pulled out my phone and punched in the shop address that Theo had given me.  I laughed at the fact that I had no idea what I was delivering.  For all I knew, it could be a dead body though I figured that if that were the case, my car would likely smell much worse than it currently did.  The shop wasn’t far from the ferry terminal and close to a gas station.  I wasn’t low on gas but figured I might as well top up before heading north up the coast.

I pulled up to a place that was small and had the appearance of being family run - passed down from generation to generation.  It was tidy but aged and would look great in a photo spread, if done correctly.  A portly woman in her late forties came out to greet me, the owner I soon found out.  She was friendly but quiet, much like Theo and invited me in for coffee.  Though topping up on caffeinated fuel was tempting, I declined - wanting to hit the road.  I rain checked in sincerity, promising to stop by next time I was passing through.  I thought about asking her if I could interview her at some point but decided to hold off.  I was certain that she and her shop would make a good story but decided to build up the relationship a bit before inquiring.  I waved my hand out the window as I drove away and she waved back before disappearing into the shop with the big box in tow.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I’d been driving up the coast for maybe an hour when I noticed a ball of anxiety growing inside of my stomach.  This was familiar to me.  It was a ball of “what next”.  While heading out this way, I’d had a purpose and direction - even if temporary.  As my journey came close to an end, I realized that before too long, I’d be bombarded with questions about what my next chapter would look like.  I had only planned as far as Ginny’s and although I knew I’d enjoy the serenity that her space provided, I’d have to move again at some point.  

Up ahead was a small beach community and I decided to pull over for lunch.  I grabbed a sandwich from a cafe and meandered over to a trail head that lead down to the beach.  Some locals were laughing and walking down and I followed at a distance, assuming that they likely knew some good spots for lounging.  After a few minutes I found a spot that felt right for me and let them keep walking.  I sat down on the sand and pulled out my sandwich.  Using my handy little travel knife, I cut it into quarters so that I could savour my food a little longer.  This was the right choice - the combination of simple ingredients layered in perfect harmony were delicious and perked up my senses.  I took one small bite at a time and listened to the ocean play with the shoreline.  My fingers traced through the sand and the grains massaged my vulnerable skin.  I sat like that for a while, bringing my thoughts back to physical sensations and out of my head.  Part of me wondered if I was delaying the inevitable end of my journey but a bigger part of me didn’t care - I was happy to take in my surroundings and truthfully, felt a small ebb of pride grow in the place where just an hour before my anxiety was taking hold.

A seagull landed near me and curiously looked about to see if I’d discarded any food.  After deciding that I didn’t have anything for him, he flew off and I took that as my cue to fly off as well.  Pulling myself back up, I popped my knife back into my pocket alongside my garbage and made the short walk back to my car.  I punched Ginny’s address into my phone.  It was pretty much a straight shoot up a single highway until I reached the mash up of buildings she called a town and I determined that with the exception of stopping to grab us a bottle of wine, I’d make a straight run for it - facing my avoidance head on.

My stomach started to rumble as I approached Ginny’s driveway.  I was impressed that I’d found it on my first go seeing as it was nearly dark by the time I arrived and there were no markers to guide me in.  Luckily I’d memorized the wonky trees that lined the space after my last visit when I’d spent about fifteen minutes driving back and forth down the beaten road until Ginny finally came out to find me.  Her driveway was long and unlit and hid her little home well.  When I got to the end of the road I turned my car off and let out a long sigh.  My legs and feet cramped and were happy to stretch when I finally stepped out into the cool evening.  

I walked around to the passenger’s side to grab my bags from the back seat when I heard a noise from behind me.  I noted that Ginny’s car was missing meaning that she was still in town at the meeting.  I stayed very still and listened hard.  I heard gravel rustled and I slowly peeked over my shoulder to see a lone wolf staring directly at me.  He was skinny and mangey, his fur knotted and unkept.  If he were a person, he’d be drunk and unwell - the type you didn’t want to run into when walking home alone.  I backed up against my car and tried for the handle.  Unsurprisingly it was locked - an old habit from living in the city.  I slowly reached for my keys, trying my best not to make any sudden movements.  The wolf seemed to stagger as it took a step towards me.  I fumbled to put the key in the lock without turning around and dropped them on the ground.  “Fuck.” I said out loud.  The wolf growled in response.  Slowly, I began to crouch down, feeling around of the ground for my lanyard but stopped when the wolf growled a second time and took another step forwards.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  

I slowly rose back up to standing and pulled my knife out of my pocket.  I flipped it open and realized how small and useless it was for much of anything other than opening up bags of food.  “This would be a really great time for Ginny to get home.” I thought to myself, knowing somehow that she was not going to show up to save me.  

“Hey pup.” I tried not to let the shaking sound of my fear into my voice.  The wolf barred its teeth and growled deeper.  Talking to it like a dog was not going to work.  I took a deep breath and stepped forward.  “You’re the alpha.” I said to myself.  Neither I nor the wolf were convinced and before I could think of what to do next, it took a running lunge at me.  

Without thinking, I put my free arm up and to the side of my body.  Instinctively, the wolf lunged for the distraction and as it plunged its teeth into my flesh, I plunged my knife into its throat.  We both cried out and collapsed to the ground, he just a moment before me.  He made an effort to get up but dropped, blood pooling from where I’d dug into him with my seemingly not so useless knife.  

I began to sob, not out of pain though my arm was throbbing, but out of despair for the poor creature that laid in front of me.  I watched him struggle down his last breaths and found myself stroking him, trying to sooth him into the next life.  Once he stopped moving, I fell on top of him, my body heaving with grief.  “I’m so sorry.” I cried out repeatedly, holding the dead creature, rocking him back and forth.

I’m not sure how long I stayed like that but it felt like a long time.  Eventually my face ran out of tears and I stood up, grabbing my keys along the way.  I grabbed my bags from the car and let myself into Ginny’s front door.  I knew I should move the body out of the driveway but had no idea where to dispose of it so I just left it there, indecently.

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Ginny pushed through her front door about an hour later.  I had showered and cleaned up any blood that I’d accidentally slopped into her house and was sitting in the kitchen in my sweats, drinking a glass of wine.

“Grace?  Grace!”

She ran into the kitchen, white with shock.  

“What the fuck happened out there?”

“I’m so sorry.  I… what a thing for you to get home to.  I was getting my bags from my car and it just… it just attacked me.  I’m so sorry.”

I started to tear up again.

“Wine?”  

I motioned to the bottle while I took another long sip from my glass.  Ginny saw my arm wrapped up in a tea towel and immediately sat next to me to examine it.  

“Don’t be sorry.  Are you okay?  I should have warned you.  That’s why I was at the town meeting.  That guy, he’s been… well I guess he’s not a problem anymore.”

She walked into the hallway and came back with a medical kit.  She pulled out some antiseptic and gauze and got to work.

“We know he’s not rabid so you don’t have to worry about that but you’ll need to see a doctor immediately.  I’ll call Will.  He’s probably just getting home from the meeting.  He can probably stop by.”

I took another sip of wine and she stood again and got herself a glass.

“And yes.  I’ll have some wine.” 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The following afternoon I sat leisurely in Ginny’s living room, looking out onto the ocean for signs of wildlife.  Surprisingly, I hadn’t had my fill after the previous evening’s encounter although I was happy to do my viewing from a distance and behind the safety of a window.

Ginny sat next to me, handing over a cup of warm tea.

“So you’ve been good?”

I breathed in the tea and thought for a moment before answering, wanting to be truthful.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’ve been good.”

She nodded, contently reassured.

“So what’s this job you were talking about?”

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Even though it wasn’t yet nine o’clock, the sun was hot as I sat on my hotel patio and typed away at my computer.  In the last 8 months, I’d been to nearly 30 towns in four countries on writing assignments.  My job was to write reviews and articles about small towns just outside of typical tourist hot-spots in hopes of increasing their local economies.  This unexpected gift of a job had also provided me with the opportunity to build out the project I’d started in the summer with Bryn.  I now had over a dozen interviews with interesting and unexpected subjects from across the globe.  Partway through my travels, I realized that I wanted to build those interviews out into book.  It felt good to have a destination that I was actively traveling towards.

I closed my laptop and pulled out my phone.  I had a text from Taylor.  I opened it and smiled, replying that yes, I would be back in the city at the end of the week and that yes, we were still on for dinner.  I also had dinner planned with Craig, Raina, Jill, Theo and Ginny.  I was undecided as to whether I’d bring Taylor along to meet them all but was leaning towards yes.  I stood up and looked out over the water before heading into the hotel room to grab my things.  I saw movement ripple the surface and smiled as a fluke disappeared beneath the waves.

Having been on the go for the past year, my stuff was still in storage and I wasn’t sure where I’d be settling down to pay rent once I deplaned from my last flight.  During my travels I was frequently asked where “home” was and I always found effortless ways to laugh off this question with some quick comment about my suitcase or hotel room.  I still wasn’t able to pinpoint “home” on a map but this stopped being something I worried myself about.  For the first time in a long time, I felt at home in my skin and that was enough.