Chapter Eight
EIGHT
The words are still fresh in your memory.
Even though it’s been half a year since you sat in the usual booth for your final lesson, you recognize them instantly when Diana says them out loud to Silas.
And that first phrase is the key that unlocks the others.
It’s not just the words, though; it’s the memory of her saying them, and how content she seemed just hanging out with you, drinking endless cups of coffee and grabbing at the table in fits of laughter.
You also remember the way it felt to be there.
How safe. And how you never seemed to have panic attacks on those nights, even if you’d had an especially anxious day.
Like there was a spell over the roof of that green-awninged restaurant and the Serbian words were a secret charm that kept your nervous system at bay.
Both Silas and Diana are looking at you now.
Diana because she wants you to do something, and Silas because he thinks Diana has completely lost her mind and he’s hoping you can provide some kind of an explanation.
So you attempt to pull it together for a moment.
But this time, a familiar tightness in your chest begins. A tingling in your temples.
“Um, yeah,” you say. “So I do have a question, actually…”
The air is quiet, chirps and buzzes of the woods occasionally filling the space.
Above you, the sky is so blue it seems to soak into your skin.
Everything around you suddenly feels so immense.
You’re stuck right on the edge of a panic attack, so you shuffle around in your mind for one of your therapist’s tricks.
Eventually you find one. Just describing five things you see.
Rooting your body in the now. That’s worked before.
A single cloud reflected on the surface of the lake. One.
“Okay. What’s your question?” says Silas. “We don’t have a lot of time here, Case.”
A tiny water strider bug, balancing right on top of the water. Two.
“Well…,” you say.
A frayed lace on Silas’s left hiking boot.
You’re at three, but it’s not working. You desperately search around for another detail, trying to focus in on one tiny part of this lush wilderness.
Instead, time slows and the air around you gets thick and soupy.
You feel that old disassociation starting in, like you’re watching everything happen to a stranger.
Finally, when the sweat starts to bead on your forehead, you know it’s happening.
You’re now in a full-blown panic attack.
Diana watches you as you melt down into an awkward crouch, breathing heavily.
“Hold on. Wait a minute. Calm down, Case,” Silas says. “Is this about the bags?”
Your labored breathing immediately comes to a halt.
Not because you’re feeling better. You still feel terrible, but it’s like he read your mind.
“What bags?” Fran says.
“Yeah,” says Will. “What bags?”
Silas adjusts his snapback.
“I’ll be honest with you guys. Case saw me going through some bags last night.”
“What?” says Fran. “Why?!”
Silas takes a moment. He looks at all of you.
“Because we need to watch out for one another,” he says.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Will says. “By spying on each other like a bunch of creeps?”
Silas runs a hand over the one-day stubble on his neck.
“Look. We’re not going to make it through this alone,” he says. “We need to see one another. And if something’s wrong, if someone’s off, we need to be honest and talk about it. Do you understand?”
“No,” says Fran. “I don’t. Why were you going through our shit?”
Nobody says anything for a minute; then Silas turns to Diana, who is avoiding eye contact. The buzzing in your ears continues.
“Diana, do you want to tell Case why I was going through your bag or should I?”
Diana, in turn, is silent, her lips sealed tight. When Silas speaks again, it’s calm, seemingly without judgment.
“I thought I smelled something strange, so I was checking it out. Sure enough, I found some alcohol in Diana’s bag. Which, as you all know, is against policy.”
Everyone is looking at Diana now. It’s hard to tell what they’re thinking, but in case there’s any judgment, she heads that off at the first pass.
“It was an airplane bottle!” she says finally. “That’s, like, one shot. For sleep. Like that’s so different from Ambien, you hypocrites.”
Silas finally seems to notice that you’re on the ground, and he extends a hand. You’re trying to put all this new information together, but it’s hard in this state. You’re not thinking about anything clearly.
“Thanks for speaking up about the bags, Case,” says Silas. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
You look at Diana, but she’s no longer meeting your gaze.
Your mouth is so dry, which always happens after an attack, but the idea of fumbling in your pack for a drink of water right now is unimaginable.
You feel yourself calming a little. And then, because you don’t know what else to do, you finally take Silas’s hand and he pulls you to your feet, looking you right in the eye.
“All right,” he says. “Everyone in the boats!”