Who I Left Behind

Suitcase in hand, you head to the station. Your head hurts from the pain but your heart needs to heal. Your family stands there with tears in their eyes, begging you not to leave, but they are the reason you are leaving.

The bus arrives and you hop on. The first day you eat your snacks and look out the window, not speaking to the other passengers or engaging in their banter. You come to terms with the fear that sits in your belly like a coal in a fire pit. Your fear of being alone ( but you've been alone your whole life, right? ), your fear of understanding that you may actually be sleeping outside under the stars with a pillow and sleeping bag, no roof over your head ( but you've been camping, so that's no big deal, you tell yourself).

As the last bus in a queue of the 10 buses you've been on squeaks to a stop at your destination, your heart speeds up with excitement. This is real. You have really done this. You have to peel away the layers of clothing from traveling from a cold environment to the heat that embraces you now. You grab your two backpacks and you are alone. The Smokey Mountains are awaiting you.

Your first day was getting maps of the areas you will be spending time in, getting more ammunition for your small gun, and hoping this was a good idea.

Your next few days have been thick with learning the ways of this new environment. Grossly underestimating the heat, you have to figure out a way to get over that. Your maps tell you that there are free camping spots in certain areas, so you decide to hitch hike to the nearest one. But this is not an easy task, people do not trust young ladies with backpacks anymore.

A long stretch of highway is looming in the distance, and the sun is an hour away from setting. There has been very few cars coming by, and they don't meet your eyes as they speed past. You look up the road and see a lumpy shadow on the side of the road. Getting closer, you see an armadillo, and as it sees you it decides that it does not like you. It makes funny hissing noises, and charges you. You walk faster but it keeps coming at you. The sun is a speck on the horizon and you need to find a place to sleep soon. In frustration, you kick at the armadillo, and its defense is to roll up into a ball. You feel instant regret, and in your temper tantrum you laugh.

"I'm sorry, Armadillo!" you say.

You stand in the road witching it for a moment. A car is coming and you pop your hand out. They are rude, roll down their window and yell

"FUCK OFF!"

Well, you say, same to you. But quietly. Apparently, Armadillo agrees. He unrolls himself and taps his toes on the ground. You look around and find a small rest area ahead. It has outbuildings and a little park behind it. You head over to the park trying to catch the eye of a passerby, but they too ignore you. A small dog is losing its mind as you walk past, and its owner shakes her head in a belittling way. You keep going, and more dogs are barking. You turn and see that Armadillo is following you. You ignore it, thinking that it is only over here for food. You don't know much about them, but you do know they don't like humans and stay in private. This one is acting funny. Maybe it is sick.

You find a spot behind one of the buildings, near a picnic table. A creek swooshes its way past you, the stars above you flash through the leaves of the tree you choose. You set up your hammock with mosquito net, and Armadillo finds a bush to rut through.

The night is unfamiliar; semis thundering past or pulling into the lot where the owners can sleep. Bugs you've never seen or heard before creeping around the net above you. Smells assault you in this new place; the rotting layer of leaves beneath you, the creek with a deep musky scent, the trees whose names you do not know yet. You can hear Armadillo staying close. This surprises you, but then you agree with the universe- You now have a pet, you guess. With this in mind, you drift off to sleep.

A feeling of being watched makes you come to. There is a family of four standing by the creek with the children as quiet as you've ever seen kids. The lady comes over and speaks to you.

"Have you been here all night?" she asks.

"Yes, I have." you say.

"Well, that is illegal, where are you from?"

You unzip yourself from your enclosure and look for Armadillo. He is gone. You explain what is going on, unsure if it is illegal or not, but decide to go along with it. The family invites you to eat with them, and then the man asks if you may need a ride. You are happy, and say of course!

You are half way to your destination when you realize that Armadillo has been left behind. A momentary loneliness brings tears to your eyes but that is not part of your journey.

You arrive at your campsite, and thank the family. They have gone out of their way to ensure that you made it to your destination.

Setting up your campsite took about ten minutes. You take out your ax and chop the day's worth of firewood, but find there is not much wood that isn't soaking wet. You make your fire from your fire starter and cook dinner. After dinner you set up your pup tent and hammock. You only plan on using the tent if it rains.

As you settle down into the hammock, you hear rustling in the woods. You aren't afraid, but remain alert. Bears, you know, won't attack unless they feel threatened, and even then they will probably run.

You are asleep when the bump startles you awake, sending fear momentarily through your veins. You loud cries in the complete darkness. It is indeed a baby bear, yelling for its mama. You have your rifle near, just in case. The baby climbs the tree directly in front of you. It lets out a cry again and this time mama answers with her grunts and snorts. She is under you. So close you smell her rancid body. A thrill of adrenaline courses though you.

The little family stays for about an hour, sniffing around and playing. The mother bear knows you are there, you hear her nose snuff around you. She doesn't bother you. The baby stays in the tree until it is time to go, and just like human toddlers he throws a tantrum when mother tells him to get down. He cries some more but relents, and earns a cuff on the ear as they leave.

Days pass. You have a meditation spot, a nice pile of wood drying in the sun, and a sort of routine you have followed. You have found berries and edible roots, and dried fish from the stream. Tension from years of abuse and neglect begin to melt away. There is nobody to answer to, nobody to yell or argue or hit you. You are responsible for every thing in your life. It makes you feel amazing.

One night, the bears did not come to say hello as they usually did. Instead you hear a shuffling and something chews on a tree. You look down and shine your flashlight into the dark. You are startled to see an armadillo. There's no way, you think. You get down and it stays where it is. As you sit down on your wooden chair it comes over about ten feet from you. It sits still, peering at you with little black eyes.

Armadillo stays with you there, and hides when the bear family comes over. As you sit and meditate on your new life, you realize that these little critters are now sort of like your new family. A smile has now permanently taken place of the crease lines you once had.

You name the mother bear Freya, and her child Loki. Loki gets himself into some grand trouble, once finding a way into your tent and chewing through a small bag of treats you thought you had eaten. When he tries to leave he gets stuck in one of the lines in your tent and took off with the whole tent. It didn't fall off for a good 15 miles around the campgrounds, causing the few other campers there to come out and laugh. Loki tried making friends with Armadillo but Armadillo got chased off by Freya.

You are sad at the life you left behind, but the thoughts of that are now becoming dim memories. You contribute that to the peace that now envelops you.

You are finally home.