Chapter Six #3
“I’m sorry,” Aspen said empathetically, reaching over to squeeze Mo’s forearm. “I get it.”
“Eh, it’s water under the bridge.”
Aspen felt a twinge of jealousy at that comment, changing the subject. “So, there you go. That’s all there really is to know about me.”
“Liar. I’m sure you are much more than a bubbly, divorced bartender surrounded by folks as elderly as the redwoods,” Mo teased, pushing Aspen slightly with her shoulder.
“Hey!” Aspen pouted, drawing out the word. “There are people here that are my age.”
“I severely doubt that.”
“Okay then, what more do you think there is?”
Mo’s lips turned down in thought before she replied. “You are far too confident to lead a life that simple.”
“All right, I’ll bite.” Aspen drummed up the courage as she turned her body toward Mo. “I heard from one of those elderly people that you are going to be around for a month. I’m, uh…down for a more physical thing, if you’re interested.”
Mo’s eyes widened like a deer in headlights as her jaw went slack.
“What? You’re hot, I’m hot. There would be no strings attached. I’m not asking to U-Haul,” Aspen assured. “I’m just…very interested in what you have to offer in that department.”
Mo’s face softened but she stayed silent, instead turning to look out at the sea again. The sounds of the waves lapping the shore filled the space between them. After a long while, the silence became too much, so Aspen tried to backtrack.
“Damn, I’m sorry. I fucked it up again, didn’t I?”
“No,” Mo instantly replied, her eyes still on the water.
“No, I get carried away sometimes.”
Mo sighed. “I’ll explain.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know, but I want to.” Mo leaned back on her palms. “You asked me why I was up here and well, I…You know about Annie.”
Aspen refused to interrupt, keeping her eyes on a few seagulls that were dive-bombing the shallow water in front of them.
“When she was alive, she—well, we, liked to backpack,” Mo explained.
“Redwood Creek was Annie’s favorite place.
She was in love with every rock and tree up here.
So after my job fired me for taking too much time away from work, I decided to come and do a solo trip.
Like a remembrance thing, or whatever. I just…
I’m having a hard time getting my trip started. ”
Aspen turned to look at Mo, noticing that she was nervously picking at her fingernails.
She didn’t really take Mo for being a lover of the outdoors, even though she had noticed the muted pink Deuter pack inside of Mo’s cabin.
She finally decided to be direct and asked, “I don’t want to be mean or anything, but you don’t really seem the backpacking type. ”
“I know my way around the woods.”
“Oh, okay.”
Mo shrugged noncommittally before adding, “It’s not the backpacking I’m struggling with. It’s the whole remembrance, grand gesture thing.”
Aspen tilted her head in thought. “All right, well, I might be able to help with that.”
“My friends back home already tried. They’re kinda the reason I’m here. They thought this trip might get me back on track or whatever.” Mo sighed, her phone going off in her pocket. “Speak of the devil, there’s Bud now.”
“Let’s see.” Aspen racked her brain, trying to think of something that would be super meaningful on a backpacking trip. “Cairns are bad for the environment. I think tree etching is tacky as all hell…”
“Bud wants to know if you’re real,” Mo said, her thumbs tapping away. “I told him you’re real but he doesn’t believe me.”
“Why doesn’t he think I’m real?” Aspen asked before quickly jumping to, “Do you think monuments are a lot of work?”
“A monument?” Mo was still tapping away at her phone, her face scrunched up.
“Yeah, did she like something in particular? Was she good at a certain thing?”
“I mean, she was good at everything…” Mo said before groaning, throwing her head back in annoyance. “He wants your phone number to check if you’re real. I am not giving him—”
The idea hit Aspen like a Mack truck. “A wind phone!”
“A what?” Mo asked, dropping her phone in response to Aspen’s loud outburst.
“A wind phone. I read about one up in Washington.” Aspen pulled out her own phone, bringing up Google to tap out her search.
Her eyes flew across the screen, quickly taking in the information.
“It says here they originated in Japan. It’s a disconnected rotary phone set up in nature.
It’s usually either inside a phone booth or hung up on a tree.
They are set up so that people can make a journey to the phone and have a one-way conversation with their dead loved ones. ”
“Oh.” Mo faltered, her eyes back on the sea. “That’s a thing?”
“Yeah! The one in Olympia is super popular for day hikers who want to work through their grief.” Aspen’s mind was already working through the logistics. “We’ll need Betty’s approval, but I’m sure that will be easy enough. Plus, we’ll need a place that isn’t too close to the protected groves.”
Mo didn’t reply, so Aspen just kept brainstorming aloud, the nearby calls between seagulls almost drowning her out.