Thanks, I Guess?

I’m not going to say I liked the rest of that climb, but I reached the top, anyway.

Coming back down was another question. We were supposed to rappel, which looked totally cool when everyone else did it. In my case, it looked more like Sergeant Fish lowering a hundred-pound bag of half-frozen peas to the ground.

D.J. was still laughing when I got down there. Burp and Thea asked me if I was okay, but everyone else just looked like they felt sorry for me, including Pittman. Fish didn’t say one word.

Mostly, I just wanted to find a hole, crawl inside, and never come out. But first I went over to talk to Carmen. She was sitting on a log and drinking some water when I caught up to her.

“Hey, Carmen?” I said.

“What?” she said.

“Just, um… thanks,” I said. “You saved my butt up there.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “You can pay me back by packing up my gear.”

And here’s where it got weird again.

“I don’t think so,” I told her. “You can pack your own gear this time.”

Do you ever say something before you even realize it’s about to come out of your mouth? I mean, that happens to me all the time. But this time was different.

Carmen looked as surprised as I was. When she stood up, I got that goose-bumpy feeling again. Not the good kind. More like the brace-for-impact kind.

But even though I’d gotten chewed up and spit out on Devil’s Highway, I also felt just a tiny bit like I could do anything after that.

Anything. Including this.

“Didn’t you just say I saved your butt up there?” Carmen asked, circling toward me.

“Yeah,” I said. “And if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here anymore. So I’d say we’re even.”

I think I heard some fingers curling into a fist. I definitely saw her eyes move. She was checking to see where Pittman and Fish were.

And then she stepped off. She didn’t say anything at all. She just walked away and started talking to Veronica instead. Later, when it was time to go, she even packed her own gear.

Did I think that meant this was over? Hardly.

Was I still expecting Carmen to push me down a canyon, or smother me in my sleep? Maybe, a little. I wouldn’t put it past her.

But at least I’d lived to see another day. And sometimes out there in the wilderness, that’s the most you can hope for.