Chapter Seven #2
“Hey now, you are reading too much into this,” Mo warned playfully, hoping it would make the conversation move in a different direction.
“All right then, what is the plan?”
“Well, Aspen had done some reading on a thing called a wind phone. It’s like a disconnected rotary phone that people mount on trees or in phone booths in desolate places.
And when you want to talk to someone who has passed on, you kinda make your way out to the phone and have a conversation with them. ”
“I think that sounds like it would be very healing for you,” Opal replied.
“That’s some shrink shit,” Bud said, adjusting the way he was seated on the couch. “Just invite her over to your cabin and get to know her.”
“It’s supposed to be cathartic,” Mo defended.
“So, what, you and Aspen are just going to hike somewheres and hang up the phone?” Bud continued. “Like on a post or a tree?”
“Well, I am,” Mo corrected. “I’m going to do it alone.”
“That sounds dangerous.” Bud looked to Opal for support. “Is that dangerous?”
“It can be,” Opal confirmed.
Mo groaned, rubbing her eyes deeply with her fingers as she tried to think of the best way to stay firm.
“Though, I think it’s a beautiful idea. I would love to visit it.”
Mo’s chest tightened at the sound of Opal’s voice, suddenly feeling terrible for being selfish about Annie’s memory. “Well, you’ll be able to talk to her after I put the phone up. But—but I am going to need your help with all of Annie’s stuff.”
“Like us come up there?” Bud asked hopefully, his body beginning to creep up from the couch.
“No,” Opal said, touching Bud’s shoulder before turning back toward the camera. “Take some pictures of everything you have and send it to me. I will send you an itemized list with brief descriptions.”
“Do I really need all of it?”
“Probably not. I will tell you what you can leave behind. Annie might have led a spontaneous and messy life, but she was diligent with her gear. Do you have any clothes and hiking shoes?”
Mo sat up at that question, her eyes turning toward the door where Annie’s well-worn hiking boots sat haphazardly. “No clothes, but I do have Annie’s shoes.”
“I recommend getting your own.”
“Sure,” Mo lied. “Where do I get the clothes and how many outfits?”
“The store,” Bud grumped, obviously still disappointed he couldn’t come to Mo’s aid.
“You only need a couple outfits. Cleanliness and backpacking are never used in the same sentence,” Opal said.
“You got food?” Bud questioned.
“Trail mix count?” Mo asked.
“You have to eat more than trail mix, Mo,” Opal warned.
“This seems like a lot of stuff, Opal.”
“It could be worse. You could be trying to instruct me on how to sail your boat.”
“Or to play the steel guitar,” Bud added. “Maybe you can get one of them Backpacking For Dummies books when you go get your clothes?”
“Opal?” Mo was getting overwhelmed. “Can’t you just meet me at an REI somewhere?”
“No, but I am sure Aspen could help you with everything.”
“I don’t know. I can’t really call her and ask.”
“But you’ve hung out with her enough to see her in a bikini?” Bud laughed.
“She wasn’t wearing a bikini,” Mo deflected.
“You look great in a bikini,” Bud said to Opal, an affectionate smile apparent between his beard and mustache.
“My schedule is pretty booked up with clients,” Opal explained, though she smiled slightly at her husband’s remark. “I have a few larger pieces I am working on currently.”
“Oh, right. I’m sorry, I am probably taking up way too much of your time,” Mo said.
“Never,” Opal assured, making Mo feel worse.
“If Aspen is any amount of outdoorsy as her name suggests,” Bud said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I’m sure she would be happy to help, if you know what I mean.”
“But I really want to do this al—”
“No buts!” Opal cut her off, her voice taking a more commanding tone. “Backpacking can be dangerous, Imogen.”
“Yeah, I’m with Opal. I’d feel a lot better about you doing this if you took someone with you.”
“I’m not a child—”
“We can’t lose you too,” Opal quietly cut her off.
Her words hit Mo like a ton of bricks. The silence that came after was just as effective. “Okay.”
“Hell yeah,” Bud exclaimed, happy with Mo’s answer. “Now call up your new lady and get to burning that midnight oil.”
“And Mo?” Opal asked hopefully.
“Yeah?”
“Can the phone be really, really ugly?” Opal shifted, her right hand coming up to hug at her torso. “Anytime Annie and I stopped in antique stores on our trips, she always loved the ugliest stuff.”
Mo let out a breathy but knowing chuckle before responding. “She really did. But yeah, sure, I can do that. I’ll talk at you guys later.”
“I love you,” Bud said quickly. “We love you.”
Opal nodded in agreement. Her lips seemed twisted in pent-up emotion, keeping her from speaking.
“I love you guys too,” Mo said, finishing the call.
Opal and Bud’s assessment of her plan had lowered her frustration but didn’t quite alter the struggle.
Mo was stuck between multiple desires. Part of her wanted to go out into the forest and let it take her, allowing her regrets to swallow her whole.
Another wanted the solace of a long and lonely hike to install the wind phone, eager to see if when she used it, Annie would reply.
The final part, the one she figured was the most selfish, was allowing herself to fully give in to Aspen.
Bringing the enigmatic woman on her journey, even if it meant moving on from Annie.
But Mo never wanted to move on from Annie.
She pushed herself to her feet, taking pictures of all the items to send Opal’s way.
After she finished the task, she slid the stuff on her bed to one side before sliding beneath the covers to rest. Her body felt tight and relaxed all at the same time, and she closed her eyes and imagined what Annie’s reaction would be to her fretting like this over all the gear.
Annie probably would shrug her frustration off, ignoring Mo’s grumpiness, to pack exactly what they would need for this trip.
Then she would hype Mo up, giving her one of her signature pep talks that always ended with some random metaphor Annie would think up on the spot.
Mo felt warmth at the thought, imagining Annie was in the cabin now, watching as her mind’s eye had Annie expertly pack everything away, her gorgeous voice singing some old country song as she worked.
Then she thought about going out into the woods again, her mind wandering to the long, lonely walk to nowhere.
But this time, she also imagined Annie’s discontent.
The way Annie’s eyebrows would pull in so tight that they almost touched.
Mo opened her eyes and turned to look at the side table.
Annie’s treasure was sitting there, tempting her to at least try.
To see what Annie saw. To see what Annie loved.
It was a huge, jumbled mess, so Mo did what she did best and pushed the feelings from her mind, reaching for her phone.
She normally would look up some concert footage on YouTube to distract herself, but this time she typed out Dry Creek Bar & Grill and hovered her thumb over the phone number link.
While Mo’s mind hesitated, her thumb pressed the button, so she slid the phone between her ear and the pillow.
“Dry Creek Bar and Grill,” a gruff voice answered.
“Hi, is this, uh—is this Virginia?” Mo asked, not expecting someone other than Aspen to answer.
“Sure was when I looked in the mirror this morning,” the woman replied, her voice still gravely. “Can I help you with something?”
“Uh, yeah, I was uh…” Mo stumbled around, her uneasiness apparent. “Looking to um…to see…”
“Well spit it out, kid. I ain’t got all night.”
“Aspen. I want to talk to Aspen?”
“Oh.” Virginia’s voice lightened a little. “Is this Tall, Dark, and Butch?”
Mo blinked, flipping her phone to her other ear. “My hair isn’t what I would call dark.”
“Would you rather me call you Googly Eyes? Because you really got your fill looking at my daughter,” Virginia countered, her wit quick as a whip.
“Aspen said you weren’t her mother?”
“Not by blood, no, but I might as well be. The other one was just a carrier. Anyway, Aspen ain’t here tonight, but she’ll be on shift tomorrow if you want to come see her again. I told her to give you her number, but she obviously is up to her usual tricks.”
“Tricks? It just hasn’t come up,” Mo replied. “Can you give her my number instead?”
“Sure,” Virginia grunted, and Mo heard some shuffling before the clicking of a pen. “Shoot.”
Mo recited out her phone number, then added her full name for emphasis. “Just tell her I have a few questions.”
“Is that what kids call it nowadays?”
“Are you always this wily?”
“Only on days that end in a ‘y.’”
Mo chuckled at that bad joke before adding, “Also, do you happen to know where the closest outdoor store is?”
“Prolly down in Eureka where my good-for-nothing boyfriend spends most of his free time. I swear, men are about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.” Virginia sighed. “You really should ask Aspen about those things. She’s the best backpacker in NorCal.”
“Noted, thanks.”
“No, thank you. Now I gotta get back to pouring Bud Lights. Swing by if you’re thirsty.”
The older woman hung up before Mo could even say goodbye.