Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dan
“Y ou guys are both total drama queens,” Rye says from the passenger seat. “As if we can’t solve this with a little teamwork.”
“You’re sure?” Sejin asks, his hands tight on the steering wheel and his long hair in a braid down his back. I prefer it when it’s loose, but it looks nice like this too. I just love his hair and everything about him. It’s sort of ridiculous.
As for me, I’m stretched out in the back seat of Sejin’s Versa. It doesn’t exactly allow for good positioning of my seatbelt, but I’m strapped in, my leg is only hurting a hell of a lot, and we’re driving over stupidly bumpy roads back up to Peggy Jo’s house.
Speaking of, I need to call her when I get there.
She’s requested a FaceTime call, but I’ve been hoping to avoid her since I sent all those loopy texts.
I don’t want to talk to her quite yet. The texts are embarrassing enough, but seeing Peggy Jo’s face and hearing her voice will make this all too real.
Stupid or not, I’m ashamed to have fallen.
I want to avoid whatever emotions will crash down on me when I talk to her because I know they’ll be big ones.
They’ve booted me from the hospital after only three days, despite the potential risks of infection, because I have no insurance.
I’m surprised they kept me as long as they did, frankly, because they didn’t have to.
Legally, they could have put me out the door as soon as they’d ensured I wasn’t on the edge of death.
Instead, they kept me a few days in a private room, got me the surgery I needed, and put me in a half-cast. It’s better than if they’d done the bare minimum for me and let me go, but I can tell Sejin’s still nervous about taking me home.
The final instruction from the nurse before they’d wheeled me out was to take my temperature regularly and to get me back to the hospital at the first indication of fever.
That can be a sign of infection setting in—which could cost me my leg or my life.
So, I understand why he’s nervous. He’s already reached his long arm into the back seat and pressed his hand to my forehead twice on this car ride alone.
I’m a little scared of getting an infection too, but mostly I’m ready to get back to Peggy Jo’s house and start healing.
I don’t want to wait around in a hospital.
I want to get better. As soon as possible.
I want to get up on a wall. I’ll prove them all wrong. I’ll be climbing again in four months.
“There’s a lot to sort out,” Sejin is saying.
“Don’t worry. We can help,” Rye assures him.
“Who’s we?” I ask. The use of the plural has caught my attention and made me suspicious. Rye’s never been a we as long as I’ve known him unless you count when he’s got Jeanie, and she’s too little to help in any way.
“Me and Lowell.”
I narrow my gaze. “Since when are you and Lowell a ‘we?’”
Rye shrugs. “Since Lowell and I are training for Dawn Wall together.”
“How long has that been going on?”
“A few weeks now.”
“What about your volunteer position at YOSAR?” Sejin asks.
Rye waves that away. “I’m going to take some time off. If I’m training with Lowell and staying at his place, that means I can probably convince Andrew to let me see Jeanie more. I’d rather do that than volunteer right now.”
“Wait,” I say, trying to make sense of what I’m hearing. “You’re Lowell’s climbing partner?”
Rye looks over his shoulder at me and flashes a teasing smile. “Jealous?”
“Yes. You’re my climbing partner.”
“Not for the next year,” Rye chirps, a reminder of what the doctor said. “At a minimum.”
I growl lightly. There’s no way it’s really going to take me a year to recover. I can’t fathom it. I won’t accept it. The idea of not being out on the wall tomorrow, or the next day, or the month after that?
I feel lightheaded and want to roll down the window to catch a breath of fresh air, but I can’t find the button for it.
“So, we can help out with the care and feeding of Dan, sure,” Rye goes on.
“Obviously, we’re not going to be training on the route itself until January when the wall will be grippier.
Lowell still has ‘off’ days, and we have to respect those.
But, depending on our schedules and Lowell’s mental health, either he or I can bring Dan down to Fresno for PT if you’re working, or take him to a local clinic, or we can help him out at home. Whatever. We’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe you should ask Lowell about it first,” Sejin suggests, putting on his blinker to pass a slow truck.
“Oh, he’ll do whatever I tell him to do,” Rye says with a smug tone that implies he’s a lot closer to Lowell than I’ve ever known him to be.
I frown.
“Yeah. I got that impression,” Sejin says wryly.
I see the sharp edge of Rye’s smile as he turns away. “We have fun, Lowell and me.”
“Fun?” I ask, shifting the seatbelt to a less annoying position. My leg aches and my head hurts too, probably from the changes in altitude. “Are you saying you’re fucking each other?”
“Let’s just say Lowell and I are experimenting with a lifestyle right now,” Rye says. “I don’t know if it’ll last, but we’re enjoying it.”
“A lifestyle,” I repeat. Did the fall do something worse to my head than just bash up my front teeth and give me fifteen stitches on my cheek? Did it damage my brain? “What kind of lifestyle?”
“A sexy one,” Sejin says.
“A complicated one,” Rye corrects. “But the details don’t matter. What matters is Lowell and I’ll both be around to help you recuperate. It’s all perfect timing in a way. Almost enough to make me believe in divine intervention.”
“Wait, wait,” I say, still not ready to let this whole thing go.
“You’re fucking Lowell Moody, and you’re doing Dawn Wall together?
Since fucking when?” If Lowell wants to screw Rye and vice versa?
Fine. Cool. The age gap is significant and I thought Lowell was mostly straight, but it’s not my business.
Climbing’s my business, though, and the Dawn Wall is one of the toughest routes out there.
“I’ve never known you to be that ambitious of a climber. ”
Rye turns to me, and I see the glow of ferocity in his gaze. “I’m not. But Lowell has something to prove, and this is the way he’s decided to do it. As his ‘friend’—”
“I can hear the air quotes around that word.”
“—I’m going to support him.”
“Fine.” I point my finger at him. “We’ll talk about the fact that I know Lowell’s never fucked a guy before and what that might mean in a minute, but—”
“No, we won’t,” Rye interjects. “It’s none of your business.”
“Whatever. The more important thing is this—when I’m healed up, you’re going to help me train Heart Route again, right?”
Rye faces forward and grunts his assent.
I get the impression he doesn’t really want to do it, but he knows I’ll just carry on alone if he doesn’t, or I’ll find someone else to belay for me.
I’m not about to give up on my goal. Not after everything.
Not after this fall. Lowell thinks he has something to prove? No. Now I’ve got something to prove.
“Let’s focus on getting healed up first,” Sejin interjects. “We can talk training climbs when you can walk again.”
“I’m going to send the damn thing,” I say, determination rising in me. If they think this injury is going to keep me from making my goal, they’re wrong. “I’m going to send that fucking route.”
“I know,” Sejin murmurs, his knuckles going white on the wheel. “You’ll send it, or you’ll die trying.”
The words land like a bomb in the car. We all go quiet for many long miles. My leg throbs. I wish I were in my van. I wish I were asleep. I wish this was all a dream, and I’d wake up in bed with Sejin, whole again, rested, and ready to climb all day.
For the first time, being nothing more than a speck in an uncaring universe is more real than it’s ever been, and I don’t like how it feels.
I don’t want to die and leave nothing behind.
But I don’t want to be defeated by that heartless wall either.
I don’t want to be the guy who failed and then crawled off with his tail between his legs.
I won’t give up, if only because I don’t know what life looks like without a goal. I’ve never lived like that since the day I met Peggy Jo, and she changed my trajectory from the grave to the clouds.
How will it feel to be earthside for so long? Will I suffocate under the gravity of a life on the ground?
Finally, Rye breaks the quiet saying, “I was just researching on my phone, and there’s an app for coordinating schedules. As long as Dan can’t get around on his own, we should probably use that to figure out who can help him and when.”
“Sounds good,” Sejin says. “Thanks for that.”
“No problem.”
But there is a problem. I almost died, and for the first time in my life, there are people who care enough to be bothered by that. I can practically feel their love for me tethering me to the earth.
It’s as scary as it is heartwarming. Especially when I can’t get back on the wall and prove to them—and to myself—that I’m still free.
That I’m still me.
*
Sejin
When Rye leaves, I stand in the gravel driveway gathering my wits for a few moments before I go back inside to deal with Dan.
We helped him into bed when we first arrived at Peggy Jo’s, and it was a real shock to see the room exactly as I’d left it the morning before the accident—the bed rumpled, Dan’s backpack in a corner, and my socks tossed aside and further scattered by the cats.
It seems like there should have been a ricochet effect of Dan’s fall to shake up the house too.
I’m not even sure what I mean by that—like would the shockwave have leveled the place or magically bounced all my things back to tidy?
I just don’t know. But everything being exactly the same seems like a universal insult to what I’ve been through the last few days. What we’ve both been through.