Chapter Twenty Mary
Chapter Twenty
Mary
Four and a half years ago
At the start of week five, we traded in miles of hiking and sore feet for miles of paddling and sore arms. This was where Sam’s confidence faltered—in the water. And this was where we ran into problems because an insecure Sam was a nasty Sam. Nobody liked a nasty Sam, especially not me.
It had been six months since my twin and I discovered each other, and the honeymoon was most definitely over.
I had been willing to overlook every little irritating thing she said or did, chalking it up to her tough upbringing.
But spending twenty-four seven together under grueling conditions for weeks on end—without a single hot shower—can drive even the most patient, mild-mannered person to consider homicide.
Today, for whatever reason, she’d woken up on the wrong side of the tent, and I found my stomach clenching tighter in anticipation of the meltdown I could feel coming a mile away.
Because of the amount of gear we towed, the seven of us split up in two large rafts—me, Sam, and Izzy in one, and Nan, Martin, and Naomi in the other.
Leo alternated between the two. We perched up on the sides of the mammoth blue inflatable, one hand on the T-bar grip of the paddle, the other several inches down the shaft, pulling the blade forward through the water.
“Use your whole body, ladies!” Leo yelled at us from the back of the second raft. “If you just use your arms, you’re gonna be hurtin’ later!”
“Yeah, I’ll use my whole body to club him in the head with this thing, then we’ll see who’s hurtin’,” Sam muttered.
“He’s right,” Izzy commented. “Spend eight hours doing it the wrong way, and you won’t even be able to lift your water bottle tonight.”
“Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious. Got any more tips and tricks for me?” she shot back at him.
Still clutching his paddle, Izzy held up his hands in surrender but didn’t offer any further comments.
“I think once we get into some dry clothes and have a hot meal, we’ll all feel better,” I said in my best diplomatic tone.
“Whatever you say,” my sister sneered.
“What’s up?” I asked evenly. “You’re super grumpy. Are you not feeling well today or something?”
“I feel fine!” she snapped loud enough to catch the attention of our teammates in the other raft. “Not everyone has a great day every day, Little Fucking Mary Sunshine.”
I couldn’t see her eyes through the sunglasses, but I could tell from the way her brows drew down into a deep V that they were narrowed in a glare. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is but—”
She cut me off, her tone turned mocking. “Wow, listen to you dropping the old ‘h-e-double-hockey-sticks’! Ooooh, you must be really mad! Good thing ‘Mother Theresa’ can’t hear you!”
“You need to stop it. Right now,” I gritted out.
“Or what?”
“Or what?” I echoed, incredulous. “What are you, like nine years old? Do you even hear yourself?”
I caught Izzy glancing at us over his shoulder nervously, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Mary, Mary, quite contrary . . .” she taunted in a singsong voice.
“Sam . . .” I hissed out a warning.
“How does your garden grow?”
“It’s no one else’s fault that you’re not comfortable in the water. Just because you’re not the camping, hiking superstar anymore doesn’t mean you get to act like a bitch to the rest of us.”
The taunting smile slipped from her face, and she wasn’t mocking my choice of expletives now. “Yeah, well, not everyone had access to a heated saltwater pool twenty feet from their back door,” she countered.
“You know what? I’m done,” I told her coolly.
“I’m sick and tired of hearing all about poor little Sam and her miserable life.
I’m sorry it sucked for you—I really am.
But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life apologizing for something I had no control over.
So either get a better attitude or just shut up already, because I’m not listening to this anymore. ”
I knew I’d gone too far as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Not that they weren’t true, and not that she didn’t deserve them. But because I’d just backed a wild creature into a corner. And, as I should have anticipated, she came back at me, claws and fangs bared.
Literally.
There weren’t more than a few feet between us when she threw down her oar and launched across the raft at me, but she somehow managed to gain enough momentum to propel us both to the bow—with me pinned underneath her on the raft floor.
Before I could react, she had my braid wrapped around one hand, while scratching at my face with the other.
“Get off me!” I yelled, struggling to buck her off.
She was like a rabid animal, and I could feel the raft listing to one side as Izzy jumped up to try to separate us.
Meanwhile there was a lot of shouting from fairly close by as the rest of the team watched the events unfold.
I heard Leo demand Sam let me go, but she just doubled down, shouting in my face as we wrestled on the raft floor.
“You have no idea! No fucking idea, you—”
I don’t know how she planned on finishing that insult because I pushed at exactly the same moment that Izzy pulled.
And then my sister was in the water. With some effort, I hauled myself upright again and scanned the white-capped current of the river.
It took a few long seconds, but she eventually popped up to the surface sputtering and coughing.
The life vest would keep her from drowning if she stayed calm—which was not a given.
“Sam!” Leo called out from the other raft. I saw him pull out a throw bag, preparing to toss it. “Rope, rope, rope!” he yelled as he sent it flying in her direction, just as we’d practiced in training.
With Sam wild eyed and flailing, there was no way she could get to it.
“Damn it!” I spit, already shucking my jacket and unlacing my hikers.
“Are you out of your mind?” Izzy asked. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to get her—see if you can maneuver the raft closer to us,” I instructed over my shoulder a second before jumping in.
I was a strong swimmer, and thankfully, the current wasn’t overpowering.
Once I was close, I called out loudly over the water.
“Sam!” I needed her to hear me and what I was saying so she didn’t grab on to me in her panic and take us both down. “Sam, look at me!”
“Mary! I-I can’t do this. I’m going to drown!”
“Nope, no, you’re not. When I get close enough, I want you to grab on to the back of my life jacket, okay? I’ll pull us in. But you have to calm down. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “I-I think so!”
I swam closer, holding out my hand to pull her toward me. “Okay, grab on, now!” I yelled, giving her my back.
By the time I felt the pull of her grip, Leo’s boat was close enough for him to extend an oar, leaving Nan and Naomi to back paddle, slowing the raft long enough for me to grab his outstretched offering, allowing him to pull us to within reach.
I grabbed the perimeter line in one hand before turning my back—Sam included—to Leo so he could hoist her up by the lapels of her life vest and into the raft.
“We got ’em!” Nan screamed over to Izzy once I had joined Sam in the middle of the floor.
“Here, this should help,” Leo said as he pulled two emergency thermal blankets from their bags and draped them over our trembling bodies. “Are you okay?” We both nodded, teeth chattering too hard to speak. He let out a long sigh. “Then let’s get moving.”
For the last two hours of our trip, our guide didn’t say another word about what had happened, but I could feel the anger radiating off him. Richard had been kicked out two weeks earlier. Now I wondered if we might be next.
She came with me to collect firewood, falling into step behind me without asking. We walked like that in silence for a few minutes before I heard her voice. It was soft with a hint of a warble.
“I-I’m sorry.”
I stopped, closed my eyes for just a second to prepare myself, then turned around to face her.
“For what, exactly?” I asked, my expression impassive.
“For attacking me verbally? For attacking me physically? For risking our lives? For maybe blowing up our dream by getting us kicked out of here? Which part of it are you sorry for, Sam?”
“All of it,” she replied without hesitation. “I can’t . . . I can’t explain why, but today, this date? It’s just a really shitty day for me, and I couldn’t deal.”
I put my hands on my hips and tilted my head. “Really? What could possibly be so ‘shitty’ that it’s worth trying to claw my eyes out over?”
“Please, Mary,” she replied softly. “I mean it, I can’t talk about it. But . . . just know I’m so, so sorry, and it won’t happen again.”
“Damn straight it won’t,” I agreed with a nod. “Because I’m not putting myself in that position again.”
“No, don’t say that . . .”
“What do you want me to say, Sam? That it’s okay? It’s not. You could have gotten us both killed today.”
When her eyes dropped to the ground, I saw tears start to roll down her cheeks. It was the first time I’d ever seen my sister cry.
“I know that. And I swear to God, Mary, I’ll do better.
” She reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight.
“You have given up so much for me, you’ve defended me, you’ve .
. .” She sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away some of the dampness.
“You’ve loved me. No one’s ever loved me before you. No one.”
It’s hard to stay furious with someone when they say something like that to you—especially when you know it’s not an exaggeration. This was a rare glimpse behind the iron mask Sam wore every day. Her battle armor.
Finally, I sighed in resignation and squeezed her hand back. “Yeah, okay, fine. But if anything like that ever happens again—”
“It won’t!” she jumped in, a grateful grin transforming her face. “I promise you, it will never happen again.”
I knew instinctively this wasn’t true. It would happen again. Not because she wanted it to, but because she was helpless to stop it, to stop herself.