Chapter Sixteen Mary
Chapter Sixteen
Mary
Four and a half years ago
Our instructor, a fortysomething ex–US Forest Service guy who went by the name “Ranger Rick,” looked like he just stepped out of one of those survival reality shows.
Dressed in khaki cargo pants, a matching button-down shirt with the North American Wilderness Academy logo, and hiking boots, he was exactly the kind of rugged, weatherworn character you’d expect to find at a place like this.
Our sixty-day course started off with a PowerPoint presentation in a dark, stuffy auditorium, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open as he took us through an overview of the “adventure” to come.
NAWA was never on my radar before Sam introduced me to the organization, but I was becoming excited at the prospect of spending two months out in nature, away from all the technology.
“This afternoon,” Ranger Rick was saying, “we’ll get you outfitted with backpacks, tents, cookware, and all the other essentials.
Starting tomorrow you’ll get some training in basic camp skills like making fires, cooking, and, yes, waste disposal.
Ladies, there’ll be a special breakout session that covers menstruation best practices . . .”
There was a collective murmur across the room, including from the seat next to me.
“Oh, yay!” Sam whisper-exclaimed. “Tampons in the wild!”
I smirked and shook my head.
Despite the sarcasm, I knew how excited she was about this. We both were.
“On day three you’ll head out in teams of seven, plus a guide. Half of you will start hiking in the Central Cascade mountain range while the other half starts out river rafting and sea kayaking. After thirty days you’ll switch.”
“God, I hope we get the hiking first,” my sister commented.
“You got this,” I told her with a reassuring smile.
That was the one and only thing she had any insecurity about—the water.
With time to kill between when we left home and when this course started, we’d spent the better part of November and December teaching Sam how to swim in the hotel’s indoor pool.
And while she’d mastered the basics, she still became anxious if the water was too deep.
With a life jacket and a little luck, it wouldn’t be an issue.
We just had to make sure Sam stayed in the boat.
Rick advanced the slides so we were looking at a group of campers sitting around an amber-tinted fire. They looked tight. They looked happy. Maybe Sam and I would find our place here.
“No matter where you are or what you’re doing, there will be a major focus on teamwork.
It’s not easy to be around the same people twenty-four seven in a challenging environment.
You’re bound to get on one another’s nerves.
But believe me when I tell you the individuals you spend the next two months with, and the experiences you share, will be part of your lives for years to come. ”
I glanced around the small auditorium, where a few dozen other twentysomethings sat around us—some looking more enthusiastic than others.
For Sam and me, this was a means to an end.
First we’d complete this course—a prerequisite for the more intensive wilderness guide programs, all leading up to certification for work in the forestry service or as private guides.
None of it came cheap, but luckily I’d beaten my parents to the punch in collecting the refund for the college classes I never took.
Even minus the administrative fees, it was just enough to cover the cost of tuition here for the both of us.
For the bargain price of nearly $10,000, we were about to spend the next several weeks sleeping on the ground, peeing under trees, and interpreting the placement of wild-animal poop.
Later on we bonded with some of our fellow explorers in what appeared to be an exact replica of my high school cafeteria—complete with long tables with their attached benches, and multicompartmented plastic trays.
“Mmm, look,” Sam said, elbowing me as she poked at her plate. “Mac and cheese! This was always my favorite in school.”
“I wouldn’t know, being vegan and all. No mac and cheese there. Or pizza, or hamburgers. Oh, but hey, I had lots of salad, veggie burgers, and tofu scrambles!”
She made a face. “Eww. Yuck. I’m sorry. I guess that was one thing I had going for me growing up—lots of cheap, unhealthy, highly processed food!”
“Excuse me,” said the woman sitting directly across the table from us.
She was stunning, with dark, flawless skin and long hair woven into a thousand tiny braids—all pulled together into a single ponytail.
She looked like she’d be more at home on the cover of Vogue than sitting here.
“Hey,” she said, “I’m Naomi and . . . I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.
Obviously you’re identical twins . . . I’m just wondering why you wouldn’t have had the same life experience.
Were your parents divorced? Did you have some Parent Trap thing going on? ”
She was the first person to ask us what the deal was outright. I was all set to give her some vague answer that didn’t reveal too much of our privacy when Sam jumped right in.
“Oh, you won’t believe this—neither of us even knew the other existed until the guy taking our college ID photos noticed the resemblance. And then this one just shows up at my dorm room. It was the freakiest damn thing ever!”
I smiled uncomfortably, watching as Naomi’s hair swished from side to side as her gaze moved between us.
“Wait . . .” she began, holding up her palms at us and then waving them around as if she were erasing a chalkboard, “so how is that even possible?”
“We don’t really know,” I told her, not wanting to encourage the continuation of this conversation. “We were somehow separated at birth.”
“So you were adopted by different families? And no one told you that you had a twin?”
“You know, I’d really rather not—”
“Well, she was adopted by a ridiculously wealthy family.” Sam cut me off, hooking a thumb in my direction. “While I grew up in foster care.”
I thought Naomi’s mouth was going to hit the table.
“Oh my God!” she squealed excitedly, causing several people to stop speaking and stare in our direction. “Is this for real?”
“Totally,” Sam assured her with a crooked grin. “Nuts, right?”
“Why haven’t I heard of you before? You should be, like, all over social media!”
God forbid.
“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” I said, getting to my feet and picking up my tray.
“You done already?” Sam asked, looking at my half-eaten meal. “You know it’s going to be all camping food in another couple of days, right? You should get the good stuff while you still can.”
I looked at her pointedly. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
I was reading in the upper bunk of our tiny room when my sister returned a couple hours later, reeking of weed and cheap beer.
“You smell like a frat house,” I muttered as she flopped onto the bed below mine, unlacing her sneakers.
“Jesus fucking Christ—what is your problem?” she shot back, popping up again so she could glare at me eye to eye.
“I’d prefer you didn’t say that.”
Sam snorted and put her hands on her hips. “Why? Since when are you suddenly Holy Mary of the North Dorm? You don’t exactly light candles and chant novenas.”
“You have no idea whether I pray,” I said stiffly. “And my faith is none of your business.”
“Right. Just like what I do in my off-hours isn’t yours.” She wasn’t shouting—just exasperated, sharp around the edges. “For real, Mare, if you’re gonna be wound this tight for two months with no decent coffee or internet, we’re both gonna die out there.”
“Would you prefer I didn’t go?” I asked, a little sulky, a little hurt.
She rolled her eyes—big dramatic circles—but her voice gentled. “Relax. I’m just saying you need to breathe. This whole thing is supposed to be life changing. Maybe we try . . . changing our lives?”
“Oh, I think we’ve done plenty of that already.”
She huffed, threw her hands up. “Okay, I’m going to bed before we accidentally kill each other on night one. Breakfast is stupid early, and I want the last hot shower I’ll get until, like, August.”
I sighed. “Yeah. The hot water and the coffee will be brutal. And losing our phones . . .”
She perked up suddenly. “Speaking of phones—remember that girl we talked to at dinner?”
“You mean the one you were telling our life story to?”
She waved that off. “Naomi. Would you believe she’s some kind of giant influencer?”
I sat up on my elbows. “What, like social media? Which platform?”
“All. Of. Them. She’s got, like, a hundred thousand followers.”
“Wow. But she can’t bring her phone with her, right? How’s she going to post anything?”
“They’re giving her an exception. She’s not paying for the program at all—she’s basically the wilderness mascot in exchange for content.”
“But Rick said only satellite phones work out there.”
“They’ll have some system,” she said, shrugging. “She’ll record, the guide uploads later, her assistant schedules everything. She won’t talk to anyone in real time.”
“Huh. Well, good luck to the team that gets her. I’d hate someone filming me all the time and blasting it all over the internet.”
A sheepish smile crept across Sam’s face.
“Yeah . . . so . . . about that.”
I sat fully upright. “Don’t tell me.”
“Yup.”
“No! How? We’re not supposed to get assignments until tomorrow.”
She wiggled her brows. “I have my ways.”
“Oh, God. Please don’t tell me what you did.”
“Nothing illegal,” she said breezily. “Anyway, it’s you, me, Naomi, and this girl named Nantucket—yes, seriously. Then Izzy, a surfer dude from Puerto Rico. Martin, gap-year Harvard Law kid. And Richard, who seems like a walking middle finger. Our guide is Leo. He’s—well, you’ll see. Very seeable.”
Despite myself, I smiled. Watching her rattle the names off like trading cards was . . . weirdly endearing.
“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”
Her shoulder lifted in a small shrug. “Yeah. Maybe. I just—I really wanted this. For so long. Didn’t know how I’d make it happen,” she said, voice dipping softer. “I, uh . . . really appreciate you using your tuition reimbursement so we could come. You didn’t have to. I didn’t expect—”
“Sam,” I interrupted gently. “We’ll figure it out.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re not alone anymore, okay? You’ve got me.” I paused. “We’ve got each other.”
She held my gaze for a beat, something warm and surprised crossing her face.
“Yeah,” she murmured with a tentative smile. “I guess we do.”