All That We Carried Page 13

  “I never really thought about the fact that your job was so negative,” Melanie finally said.

  “It is what it is.”

  “It must wear you down though. Day after day dealing with the worst people can do to one another.”

  “It’s definitely a drag sometimes,” Olivia said. “But it is satisfying when you know you’ve gotten a dangerous person off the streets. You feel like you’re doing some good. Of course, it doesn’t always work that way. There are guilty people that go free. And there are people who get lighter sentences than you wish they would. You see some of the same people come through the court system again and again.” She stopped talking for a moment and stared at the water. “It’s frustrating, really. What do we have if we don’t have a society of people that can function? I mean, it’s hard to say if our prison system even works at all except to keep some dangerous people out of the general population. But there are so few who come out of it and seem to be able to make something of their lives. It’s not always their fault—society doesn’t make it easy for them to reintegrate. It’s like, once you’ve been branded this way, you can never escape it. There’s no forgiveness. You’re just . . . out.”

  Melanie nodded. “It sounds like you’re under a lot of stress with your job.”

  “Don’t tell me I should meditate or drink special teas or anything.”

  Melanie laughed. “I wasn’t going to.”

  “Okay, see that you don’t.” Olivia tied up her trash bag and shoved it back into her food bag. “I’ll say this—it’s not always fun, but it is necessary. And it seems to be something I’m good at, so there you go.”

  “You are good at it. You’re good at everything. You always have been.”

  Olivia shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. You played every sport, you got all A’s, you were always getting some leadership award or going on some special trip to somewhere or other because you were one of the smart kids.”

  Olivia put a hand on Melanie’s knee. “You want to know the truth? I wasn’t good at everything. I just immediately quit the things I wasn’t good at. You don’t remember them because I didn’t do them long enough.”

  Now Melanie was shaking her head. “No, I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true. You know I tried out for the fall play my freshman year of high school when you were still in junior high?”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, and when I didn’t get the lead role, I quit. I wasn’t going to play some background character with no lines.”

  “That’s crazy. Why would they give you the lead as a freshman? That’s not how it works.”

  “It’s how I thought it should work!” Olivia laughed. “And did you know I took piano lessons for a week, and then I quit because I thought playing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ was infantile and the teacher wouldn’t let me jump ahead into better songs because she said I wasn’t ready for them?”

  Olivia was enjoying the incredulous look Melanie was giving her, so she kept going.

  “I quit doing anything artsy when nothing I painted looked like it did in my head. And I never sewed anything after I sewed a little pillow top I was embroidering onto the pants I was wearing. And I never helped Mom cook because I once burned a pan of snickerdoodle cookies and was so angry at myself I cried.” Olivia was really laughing now.

  Melanie smiled. “I loved cooking with Mom.”

  Olivia pulled up short. She hadn’t meant to mention her mother. And now the memory of that ill-fated attempt at baking became the memory of her mother handing her a freshly laundered softball uniform, which became the memory of her father’s ecstatic face the first time she hit a home run, which became the memory of the four of them at a Detroit Tigers game, where she caught a foul ball with her bare hands, chipping a bone in her finger. She didn’t know she was crying until Melanie wiped at her cheek.

  “It’s okay to talk about it,” Melanie said. “And it’s okay to cry about it.”

  Olivia looked at her sister, whose eyes were red and shining, whose smile was a little shaky at the corners. Then she stood up and wiped at her own eyes and nose. “We should get going again.”

  She picked up her pack and her hiking poles and took a few steps up from the river and back onto the trail. In her peripheral vision, she saw Melanie put her face in her hands for a moment before standing up and brushing the dirt off her pants.

  “We’re three miles from Lake Superior,” Olivia said.

  Wordlessly, Melanie put her pack back on and walked up to her. Olivia silently implored her not to say anything. To just drop the whole thing, forever and always.

  Melanie touched her arm. “I’ll lead for a while.” She held out her hand for the map. Then she headed into the yellow glow of the trees.

  sixteen

  MELANIE HAD BEEN SO CLOSE. So close to breaking through to the other side of grief. After ten years. As close to a breakthrough as Explorers Falls was to being an actual waterfall. To Melanie it just looked like someone was draining their pool down the driveway for the cold months. They didn’t even stop walking to look at it.

  Her spirit felt just as drained. Olivia knew what was good for everyone else, but she couldn’t see what was good for herself. It was hard for Melanie to do all the grieving for the both of them, all alone with no one in her life who really understood. Aunt Susan was a support, but she lived so far away. And losing a sister wasn’t quite the same as losing both your parents so young. Just when you feel so utterly lost in the world and in need of guidance. And anyway, Melanie knew what it was like to lose a sister too. Olivia wasn’t dead, but she may as well have been.

  Though, there was Justin. He understood something of what she was going through. His grief wasn’t the same as hers, but it was grief nonetheless.

  Propelled by her frustration and aided by the lay of the land along the river, Melanie walked faster than she had the previous two days, and especially faster than earlier that morning when the unannounced departure of Josh had her feeling deflated. She knew she should slow down a little and intentionally enjoy the old-growth hemlocks and the maples that glowed yellow and orange all around her. But her feet were following her racing mind.

  Now that Olivia had been on the cusp of crying, it would be that much harder to get her back to that vulnerable place. The conversation on the banks of the river had no doubt inoculated her to further discussion about all they had lost, like getting a flu vaccine. But there was still hope. Melanie just had to find a different strain, a different way in, something that Olivia could not stay silent about.

  She needed an argument.

  The only question was, about what? Melanie had to choose carefully. Not every subject would lead them to their shared loss. And there was a plethora of subjects about which Olivia was more knowledgeable than her. Melanie had to be able to hold her own and keep things going. And it couldn’t seem like she was baiting her. As a lawyer, no doubt Olivia knew how to spot leading questions.

  She was still contemplating the best way forward when she felt Olivia’s hand on the back of her arm. She was about to ask what was up when she saw that her sister’s finger was over her lips. Melanie looked at her hard. Olivia turned Melanie’s shoulders around a little further, stepping back so that she could see what was behind them.

  Melanie felt her breath catch. Perhaps thirty or forty yards away, a black bear was casually ambling toward them. Melanie tried to ask Olivia what they should do, but no sounds could get past the jagged lump of ice in her throat.

  “Don’t move,” Olivia whispered between labored breaths. “Don’t move and don’t run. It’s been walking behind us for a few minutes. Or at least, I noticed it a few minutes ago. It looks young. Maybe it’s the one that slept by our tent.”

  Melanie found her voice. “What do we do?”

  “Nothing. For now.”

  “But shouldn’t we scare it away? Aren’t you supposed to make loud noises and stuff?”

  Olivia sh
rugged and breathed deeply, which became a yawn. “Yes. I thought you’d want to see it first though. You were walking so fast it was hard to catch up to you without running, which you don’t want to do in a situation like this.”

  Melanie was equal parts touched that Olivia had thought of her and confused by her own reaction to the bear. She’d always thought she had a psychic connection with wild animals. But this was real. This was terrifying. And here Olivia was yawning at it, as though being followed by a bear out in the woods where no one would hear your screams as it ripped you to pieces was as normal as walking out to get the mail.

  The bear seemed to notice that they had stopped walking, and it too stopped. Melanie silently prayed that it would turn around and go in the other direction. Instead, it stood up on its hind legs and bobbed its head, sniffing the air. Young or not, on its hind feet it was as tall as a man. Melanie’s heart rate ticked up another notch.

  “What is it doing?” she whispered.

  “It’s just smelling us.”

  “Us? Or our food?”

  The bear dropped to all fours again and took a couple steps toward them.

  “Should we leave something for it?” Melanie said.

  “That’s pretty much the worst thing we could do. Then it will see us as a source of food. Us and every other hiker who comes by. That’s the kind of thing that makes bears dangerous.”

  “This one already seems dangerous.”

  Olivia laughed lightly. “Whatever happened to Dr. Melanie Dolittle? I thought you’d be thrilled. You seemed so disappointed about missing it the other morning.”

  “Being visited by a bear and being followed by a bear are two very different things.”

  “That or you’re just a lot of talk.” Olivia whacked her hiking poles together and yelled, “Hey!”

  “Don’t do that!” Melanie ground out. “You’re going to make it mad.”

  “You want to get rid of it or not?” Olivia said at a normal volume. “You were the one who brought up making loud noises. And you’re right. You’re supposed to make noise the whole time you’re hiking. It’s our fault for being so silent for the last mile. And the needles have softened our footsteps. Really, we should have a bell on one of our packs, but I didn’t want to have to listen to a bell ringing incessantly. Just be ready, okay?”

  “For what?” Melanie said incredulously.

  “Not running. Don’t run. Just be ready with your poles to jab at it if it comes too close.”

  Before Melanie could stop her, Olivia took several long, quick strides toward the bear, smacking the poles together and shouting, “Get out of here! Go on! Get out!”

  The bear took a few quick steps backward and then looked at them as if it was all some big misunderstanding.

  Olivia stomped toward the bear and then stopped short and let out three sharp barks like a dog. The bear skittered away, looking back twice more, and then disappeared over a ridge.

  Olivia turned back to face Melanie with a grin. “How about that?”

  Melanie’s legs quivered. She wanted to dump her pack on the ground, lie down on her back for a few minutes, and take some big, slow, calming breaths. But more than that, she wanted to get as far away from that bear as humanly possible.

  “You all right?” Olivia said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Gosh, I did not expect that kind of reaction from you. I thought I’d have to keep you from going up and hugging it.”

  “Well,” Melanie started. But she didn’t know how to finish. She hadn’t expected that reaction either. She started walking again, looking back over her shoulder every minute or so. But all she saw was her sister.

  Within ten minutes they reached another backcountry camping site.

  “No wonder that bear was headed this way,” Olivia said, pointing to a little pile of garbage in the fire ring. “Someone has apparently never heard of ‘leave no trace.’ And I bet I know who.” She picked up a beer can with her fingertips.

  “Why would they leave their trash here?”

  “Probably thought the next people would just burn it in their campfire. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Olivia dropped her pack and fished out her garbage bag.

  “You can’t take that with us if that’s what the bear was after,” Melanie said.

  “I have to. It’s what they should have done. You think we should leave it so that the next people at this site have a bear to contend with?”

  Melanie tried to cross her arms, but the pack straps made it difficult. She settled for clenching her fists at her side. “Well, I don’t want a bear to contend with.”

  Olivia stuffed the trash into her bag. “This is the right thing to do. You should never be afraid to do the right thing.”

  “That’s rich,” Melanie mumbled. Olivia looked up, but Melanie turned away and pretended she hadn’t said anything. Then she remembered that she had wanted to get into an argument with Olivia before they were interrupted by the bear. “I think it’s perfectly rational to be afraid of a bear.”

  “Of course it is,” Olivia said. “I just didn’t think you would be.”

  “You think I’m not rational?”

  Olivia made a face. “You really want me to answer that?”

  Melanie’s hands went to her hips.

  “Anyway, that’s not what I meant,” Olivia said. “I mean you love animals. Like, love them. You used to pet everything you laid eyes on—stray dogs, injured squirrels, that disgusting pet millipede in Mr. Fletcher’s classroom. You once had a funeral for a dead toad.”

  “I remember that,” Melanie said. She started down the trail and Olivia followed.

  “Something had pulled out its entrails,” Olivia said. “It was so gross. And you picked it up with your bare hands. And kissed it.”

  Melanie smiled at the memory. “I felt bad for it.”

  “That’s what I’m saying though. You have such deep feelings for animals. It was just odd to see you scared by a bear. Totally rational, don’t get me wrong. Just surprising.”

  And just like that, Melanie had her in. “You know, now that I have a moment to think about it, it surprises me too. A lot. But I guess we can’t choose our reaction to things sometimes. Our fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, and that’s all we can do.”

  “What I saw back there was not fight or flight. That was fright. That was freeze. Freeze into a solid block of ice.”

  “Yeah, I guess it was,” Melanie said. “It felt a little like my first dance recital. I don’t know if you remember that.”

  “Oh yes, I remember. You came out on stage and then just stood there, completely still, while all the other little girls danced around you.”

  “Yeah, well, this felt like that.” She chose her next words carefully. “What sends you into fight-or-flight mode?”

  It was quiet for a moment. All Melanie could hear was the constant whoosh of the river, the soft squeak of her pack, and the sound of her own feet.

  “I suppose I fear the unexpected. That’s why I wanted to be the one to plan a trip that was your idea.”

  “And why you’re glued to this map,” Melanie said, waving it at her.

  “Exactly,” Olivia said. “In the courtroom, I never want to be taken unaware by a surprise witness or a new piece of evidence. It’s all about knowing ahead of time what people will say and having a ready answer.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Melanie said. “But the bear was unexpected—twice—and you didn’t seem like you were afraid of that.”

  “It wasn’t unexpected. I knew from researching the park that black bears were a factor. And I knew from reading up on bear behavior what to expect should we encounter one. So the one we saw today didn’t feel unexpected at all. Even the one that slept by the tent—I was only really afraid when I thought it might be a person out there. Because a bear will generally behave according to its instinct, so you know what to expect. But a person might do anything, especially if they were intoxicated or on drugs.”

  Melanie
considered this. It was obvious to her where this fear came from—from their parents’ very unexpected deaths. If Olivia were one of her life coaching clients, she would just go ahead and say that to her. And if Olivia were one of her clients, she would nod thoughtfully and say, “You know, you’re right, Melanie. You’re absolutely right. All of my problems can be traced to that one event.” Melanie heard stuff like that all the time. She was good at her job.

  And Olivia was good at hers. Some of that surely could be traced back to what had happened to their parents. Melanie wondered not for the first time what their lives would be like had the accident never occurred. She would have finished school, earned a degree in art history, and been working at a museum in London or Paris or New York. Olivia would still be a lawyer, but maybe she and Eric would have gotten married. Maybe she’d have a baby.

  And what about their parents? They’d be deciding what to do in their retirement. They’d stay close to home to see their grandchildren, of course, but with frequent trips out to see Melanie in her glamorous big-city life.

  “What about you?” Olivia said, breaking into Melanie’s thoughts. “Besides bears, I mean. I know you got over your stage fright.”

  Melanie didn’t say anything for a while as she tried to pin down what exactly it was that she was afraid of.

  “Do you want my help?” Olivia said. “Because I think I know the answer.”

  “Okay, what?” Melanie said.

  “You’re afraid of being wrong.”

  Melanie stopped walking and turned around. “What?”

  “Why else would you believe in every religion and fad spiritual system out there except that you’re afraid to commit to one? And why would you be afraid to commit to just one? Because what if you’re wrong? What if you choose one, just one, forsaking all others, and you choose the wrong one?”