Obstacle Course #3
I walked downstream until I came to the spot and found a large, thick rope staked to the riverbank.
It ran just under the water’s surface, unseen to the eye until you knew right where to look.
I was actually going to be able to get across the river!
Then I remembered how cold the water had been on my hands.
I looked up to see the sun was still hidden behind the trees, unable to offer its warming rays.
I steeled myself to push through this. Abbott was right—I needed to believe I could do this. The noble lady that I’d been training to be was no longer a part of my life. This river was going to be the beginning of my cleansing.
Crouching down, I grabbed the thick, slimy rope and waded slowly into the torrent. I flinched when it hit my stomach, gasping at the stinging sensation. The water pulled at my clothes, wanting me to follow its path downstream, but I braced my feet against the boulders and pushed back.
I almost got dragged away when a branch in the water caught on the bag of rocks, pulling me off balance.
My feet slid off the slippery boulders, and I went under, clinging to the rope with all my meager strength.
The fear of being unable to breathe with the icy chill that locked me in place sent my heart racing.
The burn of my lungs and the water pressing in on me gave me the push I needed to find my footing again, driving my head above water, gulping in air.
Coughing, trying to learn how to breathe again, and shaking my wet hair out of my face, I forced myself to keep going.
I pulled myself the rest of the way across the river, my hands numb and fumbling.
Adrenaline still coursing through my body, I somehow managed to climb up the embankment.
I sprawled out on my back, breathing heavily, when I started to giggle.
The giggles turned into a hysterical laugh and then into sobs.
How had I ended up in this situation? What fate had I been born into that I ended up soaking wet, laying on a muddy riverbank with a sack of rocks strapped to my back?
After I pulled myself together, I wiped my face with a partially clean part of my sleeve and stood up.
I felt like a drowned rat. I looked down at my mud-covered clothes and wondered what my mother would think of me now.
I tried to scrape some off but quickly gave up when all I accomplished was grinding the mud deeper into my shirt.
I searched the bluff before me to find the steps Abbott told me would be there, yet I saw nothing but vertical rock.
I walked upstream a few steps, peering at the rock, then found a place that had smooth holes cut into it.
They looked like they’d been etched out by people using them to climb to the top.
I wouldn’t have called them steps by any stretch of the imagination, but I was beginning to see this course was meant to be more of a personal challenge.
The bag of rocks on my back somehow seemed much heavier now that it was wet, making scaling the bluff even harder. My boots slipped on the crumbling rock, almost sending me crashing into the ground. Thankfully, I wasn’t high enough to kill myself if I fell.
What seemed like hours later, I reached the top without incident.
My hands, now covered in cuts and scrapes from the rocks, ached.
I blew on them to try and get them to stop stinging, but it didn’t help much.
Looking around, I found a trail to follow, which led me to the fallen tree I was supposed to cross over.
I peered over the edge of the bluff. Here, it was three times as high as the distance I’d just climbed.
If I fell, I might not survive. How comforting.
The tree was old and had crumbled in some areas, but it looked decent enough to cross.
I placed one foot gingerly on the trunk, testing it for weak spots, but it was solid under my weight.
I stood for a moment to get my balance and looked straight ahead, imagining this was one of my mother’s decorum lessons.
Pretending I had a book on my head and needed to keep it there, I kept my shoulders back, eyes forward, and feet light but steady.
I could hear my teacher scolding me to keep my chin up because “the ground will always be there, so no need to look at it.” Before I knew it, my foot hit air, and I toppled off the tree and onto the grass on the other side.
Popping up off the ground, I yelled, feeling pride swell up in my chest. “Take that, Mother. See if you could walk so perfectly across a tree over a raging river of death!”
I spun around and jogged down the path with renewed strength to find the next part of my course.
The path dead-ended at a towering stone wall where I was supposed to find the tunnel I was to maneuver through.
It was hidden by a group of bushes on either side, the entrance wide enough for a full-grown man to fit in hunched close to the ground.
Just as I feared, the tunnel was pitch black.
Just looking at it caused my panic to rise.
Memories of my mother locking me in a small cupboard in my room burst to the surface. I gulped, shaking, trying to slow my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out. This part I wasn’t sure I could face on my own.
Some things couldn’t be conquered by forcing yourself to do it, and some would never be fixed. Being here was so freeing that I’d almost started to believe I might be able to forget the horrible things my mother had done to me as a child.
I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the opening, tears streaming down my cheeks as I was assaulted with memories. Vaguely, I heard someone walking up to me.
“Cassarah, what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” Abbott asked, his voice freeing me from my nightmares.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and said, “I can’t go in there.”
My muscles tightened, ready for my punishment for not following orders, but nothing came.
Opening my eyes, I found Abbott sitting cross-legged in front of me, waiting with sadness in his eyes.
Slowly, he leaned forward and reached out toward me, and just before he grabbed my hand, he paused so I could pull away if I wanted to.
When I didn’t, he took my hand in his large, rough one and squeezed it.
“What bothers you more, the darkness or the small space?”
Pulling my hand back, I cocked my head to the side, looking at the tunnel in question.
“Both. When I was younger and did something my mother deemed ‘unladylike,’ she’d lock me in a small cupboard in my room for hours on end, even as long as a day.
She never told me when she was going to let me out, and sometimes I wondered if she would. ” I paused, taking a shuddering breath.
It was then I realized this was the first time I had ever talked about this with someone other than Becka. What must he think of me? Would he understand anything I was saying?
I looked back at Abbott, expecting to see his face filled with pity or horror.
I wasn’t ready for the look of pure fury that glittered in his eyes.
Abbott may come off as a gentle giant, but that look told me he was anything but.
He finally noticed I was watching him and schooled his face, but having seen his anger, I could still notice it lurking.
His outrage for me compelled me to be honest about why I didn’t feel I could ever overcome my fears.
“When I got older, she started beating me, and when that still didn’t get the result she wanted, she started beating Becka.
So I stopped fighting, unwilling to let my only friend take the abuse I brought on myself for what I lacked.
I gave up because I’m a weak, useless noblewoman who is only worthy of being married off to some stranger. ”
“You are not weak,” Abbott snapped. “What you did wasn’t weakness. You did what it took to survive, to protect Becka. Only a strong person could have made that choice.”
“She shouldn’t have needed to be protected. It was my fault in the first place. I was arrogant and didn’t know my place in life.”
“Bullshit. Your place is wherever the hell you want it to be.”
“That’s what I used to think when I was younger.”
“It’s about time we get you thinking that way again. That is what all this is about. Sure, being trained and earning the respect of the people is part of it, but you have no clue how strong you are.”
“Yes, I’m so strong.” I sniffled, rolling my eyes. “I can’t even look at that tunnel without being frozen in fear.”
“Because you’re looking at it all wrong. Changing your mindset is going to be a bigger battle in all this than changing your body. You have to make the choice that you’re not going to be trapped by your mother anymore. That you’re going to fight for yourself and your freedom.”
“You make it sound so easy. I’ve had fifteen years of that being beaten out of me.”
Abbott shook his head, huffing at me. “That’s what you’re not getting. Your fight’s not gone. You have it locked so deep inside you can’t see it. I watched you the whole time, and believe me when I say you’ve got fire in your soul bursting to come out.”
Who was this woman Abbott was talking about? There was no way it could be me. Fire in my soul? Right. More like ashes from where the fire’s been smothered.
“I’m going to tell you the layout of the tunnel and see if that helps.
It goes straight for twenty paces or so before it declines slightly, then it becomes much steeper where you’ll end up sliding the rest of the way down.
It’s a short drop but one that comes up quickly.
Once you’re at the bottom, it’s another ten paces to the exit. ”
I started to open my mouth to tell him there was no way, but he stopped me. “You’re not trapped… there is a way in and a way out. No one is keeping you there. You can go as fast or slow as you like, and I will be waiting for you on the other side.”