| |
Stehekin Wilderness Ranch, 1997
Inside the generator building, the cool, stale air smelled of diesel and dirt. I was reading gauges and logging hours to calculate the timing of the next service.
The door, which I had left cracked open, creaked wide, filling the room with light, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. I turned to see Olivia.
I stopped working. Ever since that night, that unexpected night, we had avoided each other. Not because I didn’t enjoy being with her. Not because I didn’t have feelings for her. But our night together had dredged up so many buried emotions.
“The guest in Brown Bear cabin tried to use her hair dryer and blew the power. Again,” Olivia said, all business. “Would you take care of it?”
“Of course.”
She gazed at me moment longer, then turned to go.
“Olivia.” Her name escaped before I could stop it.
She turned back to me, expression blank.
“Let me walk with you.” I stashed the clipboard, closed the barn door, and replaced the padlock.
She headed down a trail into the forest and I fell into step beside her. After we’d walked a ways, I touched her gently on the arm. She looked at me, her face a blank mask.
“The years before I came here were the hardest years of my life,” I said. “A big part of that included Anya, and I hadn’t so much as looked at another woman until you. Being with you,” I struggled for words, “it’s like a dam on a river broke and all the water crashed through, flooding everything. Drowning me. It’s about Anya, yes, but more. This is hard for me to talk about.”
Olivia didn’t move a muscle but fixed her gaze on me.
“During the war, I saw things. Bad things. I thought I was a dead man.”
Olivia flinched. “I’m sorry.”
I waved away her words. “I came here, to a new country, in the wilderness, just for a little while, to the unfamiliar, where nothing could trigger those memories. Like, oh look, there’s the bridge between Bosnia and Croatia that the YNA blew up, killing a hundred innocent people, including women and children.”
Later, as the hate and violence ramped up, driving down the street in a company truck near a downtown hotel, we passed a dumpster that overflowed with bloodied arms and legs. draped inelegantly over the sides. How could I tell Olivia these vile things?
“I came here so the memories would fade away and disappear.”
We stood in silence, my words dissipating in the forest air.
“I’m a man trying to pull himself back together. West is the guy who told me about this place, who convinced me to come. He thinks I’m some kind of hero because I won some big kayaking races. Yes, I won world championships. Even Olympic gold. I am known in my country for that. But I am here trying to find some peace, Olivia. And maybe some of that peace comes with you, maybe it doesn’t. I’m sorry, I simply don’t know.”
