Bob tried to react as though Doug wasn’t being totally serious even though he knew that he was. Did Doug resent him that much? Was that why he’d been so rough on him? Was it going to get worse? The thought appalled him. Out here, he was completely at the mercy of Doug’s backpacking skills.
“Well,” he said, forcing a smile. “My life isn’t quite that perfect.”
“Has your wife walked out on you?” Doug demanded. “Has your daughter written you off completely? Has your career gone into the toilet? Has your son put a pistol in his mouth and blown his fucking brains out?”
“Doug, take it easy, will you?” Bob tried to calm him down. “I know you’re having problems in your life, I know—”
“Problems?” Doug almost snarled. “Is that what they are? Fucking problems? Something I can solve with a fucking slide rule?!”
Bob didn’t answer. He returned Doug’s glare with what he hoped was a sympathetic look, at least unprovoked. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry if my life infuriates you. I didn’t design it that way.”
“It doesn’t infuriate me,” Doug said, obviously lying. “I just don’t think you know what misery feels like. Not with the way your life has gone.”
“I’m sorry, Doug,” Bob told him quietly. “I really am. If I’ve said anything stupid or anything that hurt you, I’m sorry, I apologize.”
He’d hoped that his words would mollify Doug. It only made him fall into a morose silence, sitting and sipping his coffee, staring out through the cave entrance, his expression one of bleak depression. Bob didn’t dare say any more. He sat in silence himself, hoping—almost praying—that the rest of the hike wasn’t going to be jeopardized because of this conversation.
Doug, I hope this isn’t going to spoil the rest of our hike, he imagined himself saying to Doug. And Doug replying: Don’t bet on it, Bobby.
2:24 PM
Something hit him smartly on the chest and his eyes popped open. Doug was looking at him with a stiff expression. “Gotta go,” he said.
Bob looked at him confusedly. “What did I do, fall asleep?”
“Naturally.” Doug’s tone was critical.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Come on, we have to move,” Doug cut him off.
Bob looked groggily toward the entrance of the cave. “Has the rain stopped?” he asked.
“Enough,” Doug said. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Okay. Okay.” Bob frowned. Are we starting in again? he thought.
He looked around. Doug had already packed the sleeping bags and pads. How did he get them out from under me? he wondered. Was I sleeping that heavily?
“Let’s get your pack on,” Doug told him. His movements were hurried as he pushed Bob’s arms through the strap loops. “Oh.” Bob winced as Doug twisted his right arm.
“Sorry,” Doug said. He didn’t sound it.
The pack felt heavier than ever. Because it was wet? Bob looked worried. “Isn’t the ground outside muddy?” he asked.
“Bob, we cannot stay here all day,” Doug told him. “We have to reach a campsite before it gets dark.”
Why? Bob thought. Why not stay right here until the rain stops? Even if it means staying here all night. It’s warm, it’s comfortable.
“All right, let’s move,” Doug said.
Bob tried to lift himself, then fell back, feeling slightly dizzy. “Whoa,” he said. “That lightning must have done more to me than I thought.”
Doug looked at him without expression. What? Bob thought. Am I supposed to feel guilty about getting splashed by lightning now?
The way Doug was looking at him—almost with contempt it seemed—made Bob’s temper snap abruptly.
“All right, for Christ’s sake, go on without me then. I’d rather be lost than badgered to death.”
“Who the hell is badgering you?” Doug looked surprised.
“You are,” Bob said. “You’re taking advantage of the fact that you know exactly what to do out here and I don’t know the first damn thing about it.” As he spoke he felt a sudden coldness in his stomach. What in God’s name would he do if Doug took him at his word?
“Calm down, for Christ’s sake,” Doug told him. “You’re just feeling rattled because of the lightning splash.”
“Maybe so,” Bob answered. “I’m sorry. I do feel rattled.”
“Listen. Bob,” Doug said, “I have an idea.”
“What?” Bob asked, uneasily.
“Why don’t you go back to where we started from? I’ll move on fast to the cabin, get the Bronco, and come back and pick you up.”
At first, it sounded like a good idea. Then Bob remembered all the ground they’d covered. He’d undoubtedly get lost. Immediately, he said so.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Doug said as though addressing a child. “I’ll give you the compass. You follow it and you’ll be back there by dark.”
“How could I possibly be?” Bob demanded, his voice rising in panic. “It took us more than a day to get here.”
“So you’ll sleep one night in the woods, it won’t kill you.”
A collage of bears and mountain lions and coyotes painted itself across his mind. “Doug, that is ridiculous,” he said. “I’d never make it.”
“Bob, you just asked me to leave you here.”
“I didn’t mean it, for Christ’s sake. I just lost my temper.”
Doug nodded, looking unconvinced.
“Bob, this isn’t working out,” he said. “It could take us three, four days more the way we’re going. Your wife is going to lose her mind, worrying about you.”
“She’ll lose her mind a lot more if I get eaten by a goddamn mountain lion,” Bob retorted.
“Oh, jeez, the mountain lion thing again. You aren’t going to run into a mountain lion. All you have to do is—”
“No,” Bob interrupted adamantly. “You saw what happened to me yesterday. I’m not going to let you dump me again.”
“Dump you?” Doug looked incredulous. “I’m trying to help you. This hike was a mistake, you know that. You aren’t up to it.”
“I will be up to it,” Bob said, sounding almost frightened now. “Just don’t leave me on my own again. It scared the hell out of me.”
Doug didn’t reply. He looked at Bob as though regarding the child who wouldn’t listen to reason. Is that the look you gave Artie all the time? the thought occurred to Bob.
Doug’s cheeks puffed as he blew out a surrendering breath. “Okay. Okay,” he said. “So it takes us a week to reach the cabin. So we’ll run out of food and have to eat squirrels. So your wife will become convinced that you were eaten by a mountain lion. If that’s what you want, okay, so be it.”
He pointed at Bob. “Which doesn’t mean I’m going to slow down to a crawl,” he warned. “We still have to move at a reasonable clip if we’re going to make that campsite by dark.”
“Okay.” Bob nodded, feeling such relief that he didn’t even think of how difficult it was going to be to keep up with Doug. As long as he wasn’t alone, that was what mattered. He never wanted to be alone in the forest again.
He braced himself against the slight dizziness and continuing weariness as he made his way out of the cave. It wasn’t raining hard, something slightly more than a drizzle. They put on their ponchos and Bob drew in a deep breath. He was not going to give Doug any more reason to be aggravated with him. He’d make this damn hike and make it successfully, then go home and burn the backpack, sleeping bag, ground pad, and every other damn piece of equipment he’d bought. I’ll dance around the bonfire, naked, he visualized himself, repressing a smile. I’ll bellow a farewell chant to all of it and stay in luxury lodges in the future if I ever want to be exposed to Mother Nature again.