First Whisper
“It’s a hundred degrees outside, you don’t have to wear long sleeves out here, Honey.”
“I’m fine.” I lie.
“Yeah, we’re out in the middle of nowhere, no one cares about your stupid skin!”
“Evan!” My stepmother snaps. “Not okay!”
I glare at him and pat my thigh to get Lola’s attention. “I’ll just go for a walk.”
What starts off as an apparent trail turns into a carpet of foliage and roots. I follow Lola’s wagging tail as she leads us away from the cabin and further out to nature’s calm.
“It’s so peaceful. . . no cars or people. Just trees.” I pause and gaze high. “Trees don’t stare or snicker comments. They don’t ask crass questions like, “Are those scars?” “Were you born with that?”
Lola waits a few feet ahead, panting lightly. A loyal heart.
“I like dogs too. But I love you, Lola. You don’t judge like humans do. You love unconditionally, no matter what I look like.”
In a couple steps I reach her and she licks my hand, eager to continue. “Go on! Let’s see where this takes us.”
To gain more distance and a little adrenaline, I pick up my feet to race her. She’s pretty fast for a medium sized mutt. We still don’t know if she’s half pit and husky like the rescue shelter guessed. But when I saw the brown and white spotted Pitsky with heterochromatic eyes, I knew she was meant for me. After a few hurdles and uphill sprints, it feels like we’ve gone over a mile and the heat catches up with me. I hate to admit Kristine was right.
“Hold on!” I slow my pace to catch my breath and remove the hooded shirt, pulling the tank beneath it down, and wrap the sleeves around my waist. With my arms and shoulders more exposed, a huff of disappointment brings me back to Evan’s remark.
“You know what irks me the most? The fact that some of these are his fault! He doesn’t care nor will he ever understand.” Seeing a broken branch lying ahead, I rush another step and stomp on it repeatedly till it snaps into pieces. “I’ve heard his friends call me horrible things and he’s never defended me.”
The hill gets steeper. More trees have withered and been cut down. There’s an opening up ahead with an aged trunk bridging the gap. The ditch underneath doesn’t look as dangerous, if we climbed down. Falling, on the other hand, would be an ugly sight. I see the hesitation on Lola’s face but my soft anger fuels the boldness to attempt the stunt.
“Nothing will happen.” I assure her and steady my footing on the edge of the log.
Another step and I raise my arms out for balance. Lola whines behind me but the thrill is pulling me forward. I can picture my step brother mocking my ounce of bravery, provoking me to get hurt. Well it’s working. I’m slowly reaching the half point when I look over my shoulder and see my faithful pup crawl closer.
“Good girl, we’re almost there!”
A dreadful sound sends a paralyzing chill down my back. The karma of the forest is upon me as several snaps collect and the once sturdy timber is now weakening by our weight. Puppy cries grow louder and I’m afraid to go any further. We’re stuck. It’s too far to leap across, too risky to back track. I could care less what happens to me. It’s Lola.
“We can’t stay here forever.” I swallow and take smaller steps. She stays put. “I’m sorry. . .I promise we’ll head back once we cross.”
Last quarter now and the quiet is getting to me too. All it takes is one more try and my foot breaks through the hollow trunk. The tree groans and begins to cave in as though we’re being swallowed whole. I lunge myself and barely miss the other end, unable to grip on to anything. Slipping down the jagged wall, I feel multiple scrapes over my hands and arms. Luckily, the jeans shield against any shallow cuts but not bruises. There’s an immediate halt when we land. Dirt clouds form around us and then a faint whimper echos.
Recognizing her fur behind the small boulder, I limp over to Lola’s trembling body and hate myself for causing this. Her frightened eyes express a little relief upon seeing me. There’s no trace of blood on her, unlike me. But when I feel around her shape, lifting one leg at a time, her front paws dangle funny which explains her resistance to get up.
“Shh. It’s okay, Girl.” I wipe a tear before untying my ripped sweatshirt and gently cradling her in it.
Any twinge is quickly overridden by my desire to help her. Lola is safe in my arms as I climb up to even ground. I keep talking to keep her eyes from closing and settle her down like an infant.
Kneeling to scan her frame once more, I confess, “Evan might be ungrateful, but for you, I wouldn’t hesitate a second.”
I lay my hands over her back, absorbing the shocks. And I rest. The ruffling trees go silent as I take deep meditative breaths. Eyes close. A tremor begins in my core like the beginning of a gravitational pull. Inhale. Tingling intensifies at my fingertips, spreading through my palms and up my arms. Exhale. The ripple multiplies and gets stronger as it builds within my rib cage, a tidal wave increasing in size. Inhale. The soft vibration grows louder, a mixture of white noise and an ocean’s roar as the release elevates my senses. Light. Exhale. Life transfers from my body to hers.
A timid tongue licks my fingers and I awake. Lola approaches my lap and covers my face with kisses and thank yous. My arms nestle her in for a moment, relieved she’s okay. Picking up what’s left of my shirt, I wipe the remaining blood streaks from my skin and discard it. I’d like to avoid as much questions as possible, though my stepmom can be insatiably nosy.
“That’s enough adventuring for today, let’s head back.”
Everyone is outside when we exit the woods. Kristine is applying sunblock to Emma’s face for the twentieth time and Evan is plugged into his music as he bakes on the folding chair.
Dad is grilling on the deck and is the first one to spot me. “Hey, just in time! Are you hungry?”
“Altha! My God, what happened?”
“I’m fine! Lola and I were having some fun, that’s all. A few trees got in the way.” I smirk back.
“I would clean those up, you don’t want them getting infected. Or getting exposed to poison oak.” Kristine examines and shakes her head.
The eye roll is inevitable. I pat Lola’s head as she begs for food to miraculously fall. At least she looks unquestionably healthy.
“You sure you’re okay? Hey-” Dad stops me and tenderly pinches my chin to lift my head. “Is that a new one? I’ll make another appointment with the dermatologist when we get back.”
“Okay.” I agree, because aside from Lola, I know he loves me unconditionally. Still, I wish his pity was less obvious. “I’m going to shower.”
Gripping the straps to my travel bag, I lock the bathroom door and run the hot water. I remove what’s left of my clothes, under the red smears, my two tone skin is as I remembered before we got here. But when I walk up to my reflection, I see what my dad hinted at. On my cheek. Another white spot. Now on the other side of my face. I grip the sink, close my eyes, and try one last time.
Inhale. Concentrate. Exhale. Ripples. Inhale. Small wave. Exhale. Fading sensations. Inhale. Open eyes. Same result. Sigh.
“I’m a freak.” I whisper and feel the ricochet of words that can wound.
Another defeated sigh and I'm under the shower head, cleansing the aftershocks of the last hour. Pink water pools around my feet, the only evidence of my once perforated skin, vanishing down the drain. Like nothing ever happened. No scars. Anywhere.
“Altha.”
“Kristine?” I shut the valves but there's no response.
Wishing I was back at the dorms, I regret saying yes to this family weekend.
“Altha!” The voice says right by my ear.
“Hello?” I spin and bolt out of the shower.
Grabbing a towel, I back up against the wall. Deep breaths. No one else is here and that wasn't my stepmother. Standing perfectly still, I listen harder. Whatever this is, it’ll go away.
“Altha . . . run!”
