At the last cabin in the row, Cassidy was surprised to notice a dim light shining from the back window. Several moths were battling with the glass.
A strange sound filtered out of the window, and at first Cassidy didn’t understand it—the pitch was off for conversation. Was someone watching a movie? And then, it clicked. She was hearing a woman’s breathy moan. Moments later, a man’s voice uttered something Cassidy couldn’t identify.
Rattled, Cassidy quickened her pace. A hot flush crawled up the back of her neck as the sounds of the lovers intensified. Passing the cabin, she locked eyes with the top of the ridge ahead of her and pushed her leg muscles to reach it.
At the top, she broke through the forest and stopped to catch her breath. Hands on her knees, bent over, she put the sounds from her mind. But it lingered, bringing the things she had done with Mel once again to the surface. Mel who had fooled her with his funny stories and attention, right up until the moment she became a threat. In an instant, the warmth and sparkle disappeared from his eyes. Then, he’d tried to kill her.
She remembered how Mel watched her drift off after the injection. His attempt to take her life had stolen more than just her peace of mind, it had stolen her faith in people, in relationships. It was something Jay was trying to help her with, but Cassidy wondered if she would ever let anyone new get close to her again.
She realized that the sounds of joy coming from that cabin only made it hurt all over again. Why couldn’t they have closed the damn window? Why couldn’t she have chosen to run on the other side of the lake?
Why would she always and forever be alone?
Three
Not surprisingly, the students moved slowly the next morning, but energized by her long run, Cassidy zipped around camp, packing, making coffee, loading everything into her car. During the drive to Seattle she planned to listen to several podcasts plus an audiobook she’d queued to make the six-hour journey go faster. Cassidy was grateful to turn over the task of driving the group home to her graduate students.
By the time Cassidy was ready to leave, several bleary-eyed students were still loading their final pieces of equipment into the trailer. A ring of four or five students stood in the bare patch where someone’s tent had recently occupied, playing hacky sack. At the far edge of camp, two male students were standing close, hunched over a phone. Bridget, her dark hair twirled into twin buns, clambered around on the roof of the second van tying down the load.
Martin, his bearded face shaded under the bill of a trucker’s hat, tossed the keys and his phone into the van’s front seat, then came to stand by Cassidy, a giant, insulated coffee cup gripped in one hand.
“Everything go okay last night?” Cassidy asked, giving him a sideways look.
“Depends on your definition of ‘okay’,” Martin replied, his face contorting into an expression she couldn’t read.
“Looks like everyone survived,” Cassidy countered, unable to suppress a smile.
“That they did,” Martin said, taking a gulp of his coffee.
“At least you’ll have a quiet drive.”
“Unless they start puking,” he said, taking another sip.
Bridget climbed down from her van’s roof and dusted her hands. “Last call for the john!” she called out to the group. Several students broke away and trotted off towards the stone structure at the far end of the grounds. The group playing hacky sack filed in toward the van’s open door, followed by the others. Izzy, her face a blank mask, and Alice who was yawning, were the first to climb into Martin’s van, no doubt to claim the bigger backseat.
Cassidy snatched a leather belt she had coiled up from the front seat of her Subaru and offered it to Martin. “Would you mind getting this to Charlie for me?” she asked. “Seeing as he’s your advisor, you’ll meet up with him much sooner than I will.” On the first day she arrived at field camp, the buckle on Cassidy’s tool belt had busted. Dr. Charlie Tucker, the University of Oregon’s geomorphology professor who had taught the first half of field camp, had kindly loaned his when he left.
“Sure,” Martin said, tucking the belt under his arm.
“Is he back from New Zealand?” Cassidy asked. Charlie’s projects took him to glacier deposits all over the world.
“I think yesterday. But good luck getting a hold of him while he’s writing.”
“Right,” Cassidy sighed, wondering where he was holed up. Charlie’s second book would be a deeper dive into climate change and melting glaciers.
“All aboard!” Martin bellowed as the last of the students migrated toward the vans.
Cassidy watched Cody and Will approach Martin’s van, their faces flushed. As they stepped inside the van, Cody tucked his phone into the side pocket of his shorts.
“What’re they up to now?” Cassidy asked Martin, nodding in Cody and Will’s direction.
“No clue,” Martin sighed. “They had a field day with that news report about you,” he added, giving her a sideways glance.
Cassidy hugged herself a little tighter and scuffed the gravel under her right foot.
“Well, drive safe,” Cassidy finally said, squinting at Martin.
He nodded, then stepped towards the open driver’s door. Cassidy moved to the other side and grinned at the sea of faces staring back at her. In the back, Izzy was gazing out the window. Next to her, Alice had already pulled out her knitting. “Take care, guys,” Cassidy said to a chorus of goodbyes. Will and Cody were too engrossed in whatever was playing on Cody’s phone to look up.
Cassidy repeated her sendoff to Bridget’s van, the students’ cheerful farewells ringing into the morning air. After watching the two vehicles roll out of camp, Cassidy slid into her Subaru, trying to counterbalance the tug of
