Page 73 of Big & Lily

Lily is quiet for a moment. She dabs at the cut on her forehead and grimaces. “Well,” she finally says, “I guess I kinda like having you as my guardian angel.” She stands up. We’ve still got a ravine to climb out of. “The truth is, I got what’s coming next. But I still need my angel on my shoulder.” She brushes herself off and pulls some debris from my hair. “Okay, let’s go. Today, I’m going to save you.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Lily leads us toward the less steep incline, and we ?haul ourselves upward in the hopes of meeting up with the trail. The effort to climb even a few feet is making me want to curl up in a ball on the forest floor and cry. It doesn’t help that now my other ankle is sore, having slipped on some loose rocks, lost my balance maneuvering around a large fern, and pogoed on one leg like I’m playing the world’s longest game of hopscotch.

“You’re going to have to get out of here the same way you got in. Crawling,” says Lily.

“I’m down here anyway. What’s a little more humiliation?”

Eventually the sound of the creek becomes more distant, and an opening up ahead turns out to be a path. When we finally climb up and out of the ravine, we’re exhausted, covered with mud from head to toe, and crying from relief.

We still need to get back to camp, so Lily pulls me up on my feet. “Time to find a second wind, Big.”

“My second and third wind are down there at the bottom.”

“You can rally. You’re stronger than you think.” She walks off a few feet and brings back a long stick, like a wizard’s staff, and hands it to me. “This should help.”

It takes a moment, but I do conjure up my next wind. Lily tucks herself into my armpit and holds onto my waist. I drape one arm around her neck, my free hand gripping my new walking stickfor dear life. Eventually we find a rhythm, a real one-step-forward-two-steps-back situation with me halting and losing balance and begging for a rest.

After what seems like weeks on the trail, we stumble into camp. The place is silent; everyone is still asleep. We would have gotten away with it, our secret mission, but even if we manage to tuck ourselves into our yurt and clean up, there is going to be no hiding our injuries. Before we can slip behind our canvas walls, we hear a bang, and this time we know exactly what it is. Ian stepping out of the outhouse again. This time he sees us, and even from a distance I can see his mouth form an O in surprise.

He runs up to us in his plaid pajamas. “Good God, what happened to you two?” I slide out of Lily’s grip and drop to the ground with a groan. Ian runs his eyes up and down both of us. The filth and sweat, the leaves and sticks in our hair, blood dripping down Lily’s face, give him more of an answer than either of us can provide right now. “Wait here. I’m going to get Brick.”

He sprints off, and my heart sinks. Brick will be furious. I realize now why he insists, time and time again, that no one wander off. We risked our lives and, I guess, in a way, his business. The bad publicity might kill them. I can see the headline: “Middle-aged, out-of-shape suburban sisters mauled to death by two bears fighting over a granola bar.”

We didn’t think we were taking a chance. Straight up, straight down, we thought. It was an opportunity to share an experience of a lifetime with my sister who needed one. And despite the pain and suffering, something important, really important, happened out there. It wasn’t witnessing a spiritual awakening—as Lily had put it—it was better.

By the time Brick and Jace, carrying a first aid kit and a walkie-talkie, come running into the camp from their tents tucked back in the woods, the whole crew has gathered around us. Ian’s shoutingmust have given them all a shock. They step back as Brick leads us to the logs around the campfire, kneels next to Lily, and lifts the hair from her forehead.

“Not as bad as it looks,” he says. It was definitely better coming from him than me. “I’m concerned about a possible concussion.”

Lily is acting dazed, and isn’t saying much, but she basically dragged me out of the ravine and back to camp—even with her own injuries. She’s got to be exhausted.

Brick dabs at her cut with the gauze from the first aid kit and turns to me. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“We went for an early morning walk?” I ask, as if I’m questioning whether that is an acceptable answer. I didn’t think my face could get any hotter after the exertion, but I am wrong.

“And?” He peers into Lily’s eyes and turns her head slowly in his hands.

“And the footing was bad. And it was hard to see where we were going. And, well, we took a tumble.” I don’t tell him about getting lost on the trail, the bears, the creep, the fighting, the yelling, the ravine.

“This looks like more than a tumble,” he says, now turning my sister’s wrist in his hands. She flinches. “This might be broken.”

“And what about Bridget?” asks Ian. “She was hopping on one foot when I found them.”

“It’s nothing,” I lie.

Brick leaves Jace to wrap an ace bandage around Lily’s wrist and takes my foot in his hands. The swelling has gotten so bad my ankle feels like it might burst. He unlaces my hiking boot, but an attempt to pull it off turns me green. “Yeah, okay. This is not nothing. Wait, you’re soaked all the way up to... what’s this stain?”

“Let’s just say the bear spray worked.”

“You saw a bear?” asks Xavier, his eyes wide.

“I didn’t say that,” I answer weakly. Well, I didn’tsayit.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” says Brick. “These injuries don’t require a Helivac, thank God, but you both need X-rays—and a better concussion assessment. I’ll radio Frank and tell him to bring the van. I’ll drive you two down to the ER in Palmer, and Jace, you and Frank can take everyone on the hike. We’ll have one of the Denali rangers bring you all down later so you don’t miss your flights. Hank Robertson owes me a favor, ask him. Bridget, I’m going to take this boot off. It might hurt.”

Gently, Brick works my boot back and forth as I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip. Finally, the boot is off, and the damage is obvious. My ankle has doubled, probably tripled in size. I’m waiting for my I-told-you-so, but it doesn’t come. Whatever Brick thinks of what Lily and I did has been surpassed by his responsibility to take care of his clients. That makes me feel worse than getting a talking to.