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The next morning, head foggy from too much wine and too little sleep, I lay in bed and thought about Luka’s story. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. How could something like that have happened in the 1990s? It sounded more like the concentration camps of World War II.
I hit the dining room early, foregoing my precious Starbucks for cup after cup of campfire coffee along with fried eggs and potatoes.
Kathy joined me and sat across the small table in the corner where I had sequestered myself. She studied me, worried. “I’m so sorry for Randy’s stupid behavior last night,” she began.
I waved her words away. “Don’t worry,” I said.
“Really, I’ve never seen that side of him before,” she continued. “As if he enjoyed giving away your secrets.”
“Then I shouldn’t have secrets,” I said too sharply. I set down my fork, gave Kathy a weak smile, and said in a gentler voice. “I shouldn’t have secrets, Kathy. It’s too much of a burden. It leaves one vulnerable to the truth. To exposure.”
She squinted at me. “Hmmm. You’re drinking the camp coffee? Now I am worried.”
I forked a few more potatoes into my mouth.
Kathy kept at it. “Did I see you leave with Luka last night?”
“I am utterly perplexed by Luka. One minute I’m charmed by him. The next, a little scared of him.” The words surprised me. I’d felt that way, but never acknowledged it. Certainly never said it out loud.
“Scared? Why on earth would you be scared of Luka?”
“Because I’ve seen him naked,” I said in a low whisper. “He has scars on his back. Last night, he told me awful stories. He was arrested in Bosnia, during the war. Incarcerated in some kind of prison and beat up. Some soldier stuck a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, for God’s sake. Why? Who is he, Kathy? Why is he here?”
For the first time since I’d met her, Kathy stared at me in stunned silence, then gave a quick understated shake of her head. “I’m not a bad judge of character, and I just don’t see anything suspicious in Luka.”
“You thought you knew Randy until last night.”
She sucked in a quick breath. “Have you asked Luka how he got those scars?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Instead of imagining the worst, why don’t you get the full story?”
“All right, I will.” I stood. “In my own time. When the time is right. For now, I’ve had enough of Luka’s stories. If you’ll excuse me.” I bused my dishes and headed out the front door.
As I came out of the dining room, I spotted Otto down the road, backpack at his feet, standing near the van. A few others, dressed in hiking clothes, stood in a small cluster several yards away.
Not knowing what I would say, I took a deep breath and walked toward him. “Good morning, Otto.”
He looked pained to see me. “Olivia.” He bowed slightly. “I owe you an apology. I was so excited to think you might be able to get me a job, I lost my head. I had read about tech millionaires,” he hesitated, looking sheepish. “About the tremendous success of the early staff members at some of the companies, and I lost my manners. Please accept my apologies.”
He looked pathetically thin next to his large backpack, and my heart softened. All this deception was exhausting. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
He continued. “Greta was quite angry with me. I’m afraid we are parting on bad terms, which is quite disappointing to me,” he looked even more sheepish. “It’s not the first time I’ve messed up with girls.”
“So, you’re not going on just a day hike.”
“No, I’m continuing on my journey. I’ve stayed here too long as it is.”
“Otto,” I said gently. “You have a very marketable degree and skill. After you finish your hike, you should add that to your resume. It will show that you’re a person who sets difficult goals for himself and completes them. That goes a long way with companies. A lot of people can write code, but companies want people who are willing to commit, and who have personal integrity. Trust me, this is only the beginning for the technology industry. I suggest you look at more companies. Try California, maybe companies in San Francisco.”
West arrived to drive the shuttle, grinning, blond hair fashionably messy. “Good morning, everyone! All aboard to High Bridge.” He opened the van door and stood aside to let his passengers board.
As the others climbed aboard, Otto picked up his backpack.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Greta,” I said.
West lingered near us, reached down and took Otto’s heavy pack from him, holding it lightly with one well-muscled arm. “You’re taking off, Otto?”
“Yes, if I want to make it to the Canadian border before it gets too cold, I need to get going.”
“Good luck, man. I’ll put this on the bus for you.”
“Thank you.” He turned to me. “I will do that, put the hike on my resume and look in California for a job. You’re a very kind woman.”
“Good luck to you.” We shook hands.
After the bus left, I returned to the dining room and slipped behind the counter into the kitchen where Greta sliced the tops off radishes with vigor and malicious intent, as if knife were a guillotine.
“Morning, Greta,” I said softly.
Greta started, paused in her zealous vegetable attack. When she spotted me, her expression darkened. “Olivia,” she said as if my name bore a huge weight. She carefully set the knife down and turned to me. “I’m so sorry.”
I waved her words away. “No need. Truly. I hope I’m not the cause for Otto’s sudden departure.”
Her head dropped and her expression turned hangdog. “No. It was time for him to go. I saw a different side of him last night. The fact that he thought it was weird for a woman to be good at writing computer programs—I was like, what Dark Ages do you live in, dude?”
I felt her pain. “I’m sorry, just the same. You were having fun with him, and this job hasn’t been very fun for you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve learned a lot about cooking. And more than I ever wanted to know about making beds.” She threw a tight smile, then brightened. “The good news is, after Otto was so condescending about women last night, I couldn’t sleep. I had a lot of time to think about what I’m going to major in at Stanford, and I decided to apply to the engineering school. I’m going to take lots of math my freshman year—I’ve always been good at math. I’m going into a profession dominated by men to show that women can be the best engineers ever.”
Well, well, well. I’d underestimated Greta. “Good for you. I know you can do it.”
“I know I can do it because women like you did it before me. You paved the way.”
Now she really had surprised me. “Thank you, Greta. That means a lot to me.”
***
Later that afternoon, I spotted West and Greta talking and laughing as they headed toward the van. West spotted me and waved. “Hey, Olivia! I’m taking Greta for a little afternoon break.”
“Kathy said it was okay,” Greta chimed in. “West’s going to teach me how to kayak.” She beamed up at him.
“You two have fun.” I watched them chatting and laughing until they climbed into the van and drove away. Ah, to be young and lucky enough to have no past to muck up a sunny, summer afternoon.
