Hiking of the heart

My childhood friend Lina always hiked alone. In rare times, when she mentioned her excursions, it seemed that she’s been on every hike known to man. She was a member of all available clubs and recreational stores and seemed to have a tan on her serious face even in the winter. She would show up on our doorstep unexpectedly, approximately every four-five months. Our kids would greet her with a loud shrill unceremoniously digging into her old backup which always hid new treasures.

My daughter is a self-proclaimed tomboy so Lina always respected that and never brought her anything girlie. A piece of a 100-year-old arrowhead from New Mexico, unpolished crystal from the Washingtonian beaches, dried starfish from the east coast. The list went on while the old pirate-looking treasure box was getting fuller with every visit, getting dangerously close to reaching its capacity.

My son, on the contrary, was drawn to the arts since he was a baby. While he enjoyed drawing, his interests expanded into other forms of art. It was wonderfully weird when we visited New York’s MET in the hope of inspiring his sister, but instead, ended up standing in front of each painting for what seemed to be forever while our little man was soaking it all in. No one in our family ever had any connection or talent for the arts so we were not sure where to start. Lina came to the rescue with a slightly faded coloring book for kids that had simplified pictures of famous paintings. Our son spent hours tracing them with his little finger and later, with his pencil. Lina continued to inspire him by bringing unique drawings and tiny figurines created by local artists from all around the world. We quickly ran out of shelf and wall space in our son’s room so soon enough, our house could compete with the MET, except we didn’t charge visitors for our “exhibits”.

Many people who didn’t know Lina, wondered how she could afford such a life. The answer was simple. She worked as a freelance photographer, constantly traveled for work, and didn’t really have a home of her own. All her belongings were fitting in an ancient backpack and a large duffle bag. When kids got into their early teens, they tried to get Auntie Lina a new, fancy backpack. It was beautiful, weightless, and waterproof with an abundance of different pockets and sections. We were excited to give it to her when Lina came to stay for the winter holidays. We hoped to see her face light up with that rare quiet smile. Instead, Lina glanced at the bag indifferently and politely thanked the kids. She left the package unopened under the tree and quietly asked me if I could return it before she left on another trip.

I know what you are going to ask – was she always like that? No! When we were kids, we went to the only school that existed in our tiny town, lived next door, and did everything together. We had the same hopes and dreams as the rest of the girls. When we turned sixteen, I started dating my future husband. He was a couple of years older and started college so I felt superior looking down at the rest of my girlfriends. After all, I had a real man while they were dating their peers. All of them but Lina. She was in love with a young man from our neighborhood. She loved him quietly, patiently, hoping that one day he would notice her. And he finally did. We were close to graduation when Lina showed up one day looking at me with shining eyes, her face flushed. He asked her on a date. And not just any date, but dinner and a quick walk to the nearby Outlook we had above the large lake. It all sounded very romantic so I hugged Lina, genuinely happy for her. She loved going to the lake so I knew it meant a lot to her. We always dreamed about going to the prom together so I was hoping the date goes well envisioning our perfect foursome at the prom night.

I anxiously waited by the phone for her to call me the next morning but the phone stayed quiet. Unable to wait any longer, around noon I called her house but got no answer. The same repeated that evening. Alarmed, I walked over to Lina’s house but it was dark, her mother’s car was gone from the driveway. I thought for sure I would see her at church the next morning. Lina’s mom was a devoted catholic so she never missed a mass. When we got to our pew, I quickly placed my bag and a jacket next to me to save two seats. I continued to look at the door throughout the service but they didn’t come. Neither did Lina show up at the school the next day.

I bugged my parents and asked the teachers but no one could tell me anything. A week later, my dad told me that they moved to another state to stay closer to Lina’s grandmother and their house was being sold. He hugged me awkwardly offering to talk if I wanted but I couldn’t. She was my best friend. It didn’t make sense and I remember being very angry with Lina for leaving without as much as saying goodbye. I tried to talk to the guy that she went on the date with but he refused. It took a long time before I finally started feeling somewhat normal…

I graduated, started college, and got married. I was about eight months pregnant with our daughter when one day someone knocked on the door. It was a very special knock that Lina and I used when one of us was in trouble or needed help. My heart leaped and stopped beating for a moment. I wobbled towards the door and glanced into the peephole. It was sure my Lina. Older, paler, her hair tightly pulled back, but it was she! I swung the door open feeling like tears were about to burst out as soon as she said something. Lina glanced at me with her serious green eyes before she looked down at my stomach. She smiled and kneeled, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against it listening to my little girl playing drums on my liver.

“Do you know what you are going to call her?” she asked simply.

“Not yet,” I smiled back. Of course, she sensed it was a girl.

“I think she is Olivia. I’m fairly certain of it!”

I never asked her how she found me. She never mentioned it either. What did it matter now? We were together again.

I named my daughter Olivia. A similar scene played out two years later when Lina came to see us a few days before our son was born. She listened to my tummy for a while and said he wants to be called Timothy. Neither one of us had any siblings so Lina became a true and devoted aunt to my kids but declined to become their godmother letting us know that the topic of religion was also off-limits.

Time was flying by. Olivia was completely preoccupied with college applications while Tim was working hard on his portfolio in the hope of being admitted to an arts high school. One day, I glanced at myself in a mirror on the way out of the house and noticed that my haircut resembled my mom’s at the same age almost to the “t”. When did that happen? I was getting to be middle-aged. I had Mom’s haircut. I looked at my outfit. Capri pants? What?! I used to make fun of women like that! I swore I would never become one of them!

I dropped the kids to school and stopped on the corner. I felt like I couldn’t breathe! Was this what a midlife crisis felt like? But I was only in my mid-thirties! I pulled out my phone from the bag with shaking hands – just please answer!

“Hello?”

“Lina! Thank God!”

“Is everyone all right?” her tone changed slightly giving away her worry.

“Yes! No! I don’t know! I feel so stupid calling you like this. But I panicked, I didn’t know who else to call!”

I started telling her about my worries, getting all teary. I rambled on twisting in my seat trying to find a box of tissues that always ended up somewhere unreachable at the most opportune times. Lina listened to me without interruption, until I was done. Her only response was:

“I will be there this evening.” With that, she hung up and I continued on with my errands.

She came at seven, just in time for dinner. She went with Tim through his portfolio making comments on the pieces that she thought were more worthy than others. She listened to the second part of the Ramble Opera when Olivia got ahold of Lina’s ears rattling about her indecisions about certain universities and majors. It was after eleven when we finally had a chance to sit down alone in my cozy kitchen for a nice aromatic cup of tea we always enjoyed.

“So, what’s going on with you? Are you unhappy?” She looked at me and I knew that even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t.

“I don’t think I’m unhappy but I feel like I’m losing ME.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

I wasn’t ready for that question. It was so simple and such a right question and yet, I didn’t think about it until Lina said it out loud. What am I going to do?

“I don’t know. I guess that’s the problem.”

“I think you need a change of scenery,” shrugged Lina. “I’m not talking about a family vacation with the kids. Just you, alone. Where would you go?”

The immediate thought popped into my head and again, I was shocked I didn’t think of it before.

“I want to go for a hike with you!”

Lina stared down at her cup for a few minutes before she nodded.

“So be it. Any idea where you want to go?”

I shook my head and promised to think about it.

We didn’t get back to the topic for a few days until one afternoon I picked up the mail and saw an invitation to our class reunion and knew immediately where I wanted to go – home. I missed our lake, our forest, and the crystal air that surrounded our little town year-round. My parents still lived there so it would also be a great excuse to see them. I enthusiastically suggested it to Lina expecting her to softly agree as she always did but instead her face got pale, her mouth twisted and she firmly shook her head.

“Any place but that.”

“But why? Lina, I need to go home, I need to get my energy back, I want to feel like that kid again! We could stay with my folks if you are worried about expenses…”

“I’m not…” she contemplated. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it?” a suspicion started to rise in my chest. “Lina, did something happen there before you guys left? It’s been many years. Do you want to talk about it?”

She was sitting looking down at her hands interlaced on top of her lap. It continued for a while before she finally glanced at me sternly.

“Fine, we’ll go!”

The next day it became obvious that my moodiness was getting to the rest of my family too because when I carefully mentioned that I wanted to leave with Lina for a few days, it was met with a unified “Yes, please.”

The first day at home, I was on some kind of high. Mom was fussing around me and Lina, just like she did when we were little. Even Lina seemed to brighten up surrounded by parental warmth. When we finally settled down for the evening in my old bedroom, Lina looked out the window and said quietly.

“Do you want to go to Outlook tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I replied carefully. “If you feel up to it?”

“Oh, I do!” Her response sounded strange but I decided to let it go.

The next morning’s rising sun met us already on the road. Lina was unusually chatty and anxious. I’m a relatively active person and wouldn’t call myself overweight but I couldn’t keep up with her. She was rushing me showing signs of impatience I’d never seen in her before. By the time we got to the Outlook, I was hot and sweaty, barely catching my breath. Lina’s attitude was aggravating me, I almost regretted coming here with her. I was about to blow up when I noticed her face. She was standing at the edge of the bluff looking out at the lake highlighted by the young sun in pink and light blue colors reflecting the hills around it. Lina was standing shaking slightly with her hand on the tree next to her. I came up and stood next to her feeling like something was about to happen but afraid to speak first. I gently took her hand into mine and squeezed it encouragingly.

“Do you know why I like my bag?” she nodded toward her backpack. I shook my head. “It was my dad’s. I was little when he died but I remember him taking me on these walks, teaching me things. He said the bag brought him good luck and always went over the stuff that should be in the bag when anyone goes on a big hike. He taught me how to defend myself, and made me promise to never go into the wild without my supplies. I always followed his rules. Always, with one exception. When I went on that date.”

“We had dinner and came here. He was sweet and attentive until we reached this spot. He turned around and suddenly hit me hard in the face. I don’t know what happened after but when I came to my senses, it was dark. I was standing against something rough but I couldn’t move. It took me a few painful minutes to figure out that he tied me up to this very tree.” Lina slapped the tree trunk next to her. “I begged him to let me go. He got behind me and ran his hand on my back. That’s when I realized that I was naked.” She clenched her fists, tears streaming down her face. “He raped me mercilessly. For hours. It was horrific, but the thought that was scaring me the most was what am I going to tell my mother about where I was all night. As the sun started to come up, he finally got dressed. I didn’t feel or care about anything anymore. I was disgusted, embarrassed, devastated, and terrified. My life was over as I knew it – I was sure of that.”

“He cut off the ropes and threw them into the water before he kicked me in the stomach and left. I managed to get myself up, practically crawling home. When I came to the house, my mother came out and dragged me inside. She turned me over looking at my torn clothes and bloody spots. She told me I was a slut if I allowed this to happen and I’m no longer a daughter of hers. She left me in the living room while she made some calls. I was just sitting there, waiting for her verdict. She came back and told me to pack my things and we left. She left me at my grandmother’s. Said she couldn’t stand to see me. Grandma pitied me but didn’t dare to say anything. I healed slowly. I got my GED and left. Back then, I wanted only one thing – to die. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, even you. No one took me to the doctor when it all happened. I bled for a long time and when I finally went a few years later, I was told that most likely I would never have kids. No, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not a maternal type anyway. Plus, I have you and your kids. That’s good enough for me to feel fulfilled.”

All I could do was reach out to hug her. She accepted it after a moment of hesitation. I wanted to ask her a million questions, I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, how none of these things mattered to me, and how awful I felt for her. But I couldn’t. I just held her and patted her back hoping that she knew how much I felt her pain. Finally, she freed gently from my arms and looked straight into my eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep for a long time. Nothing worked and my anxieties were getting the best of me. That’s when I got my first assignment in the middle east. After seeing what most families have to go through there, I decided to take my life back.” 

She turned again towards the lake.

“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here. The water looks like a mirror, you can see every cloud’s reflection in it… Do you know what is one thing in the world that can make you happy? No? Revenge! I got mine. I saw him just one more time about five years ago and this time I made sure I had my bag with me.”

“Lina, you didn’t!” I was horrified.

“Yes, I did. I killed him and now I can live the rest of my life in peace knowing that he will never do this to anyone ever again.”

She turned back towards the view that captivated us our entire lives letting me know that this topic was now closed once and for all.