I’m not sure what made me do it, but as I was zooming down the highway I saw a sign that said “Boulder Loop Trail Parking” with an arrow, and next thing I knew I was pulling into the lot and shutting off the engine. I got out of the car, taking a quick look in the back to see if I happened to have anything you’d normally take on a hike – water bottle? Camera? Anything to eat? Nope, nope, and nothing but a half a bag of chips, which I grabbed and threw in my backpack.
I had been here before, when I was much younger. I remember it having a great view and hoped the exercise would calm me down better than my reckless driving, while having the added bonus of not getting me killed or pulled over for speeding. Shouldering the bag, I stooped down to tie my shoes a little tighter then trucked off down the path, not even stopping to check the time or how long the trail was supposed to be.
An hour later, I was still crashing along at quite a good pace and hadn’t stopped more than just a minute to catch my breath here and there. The path was deserted – there wasn’t a sound except the rustling of the trees and my labored breathing. I thought to myself that I must have been in much better shape when I last came up this way, since my legs were aching from the steep climb and I’d already twisted my ankle on the tumbled rocks and roots that covered every inch of the path.
The whole climb seemed to zoom by in a blur of greenery and rocks, until suddenly there I was, standing on top of the lookout point, fuming. I had expected to feel calmer, I guess. The memory of happiness and serenity from this place was almost palpable, and yet, exhaustion aside, the mixture of sweat and adrenaline had my heart pounding so that my anger seemed to burn out from inside of me in waves of heat. Instead of being calmer, I’d actually managed to make myself even more upset by climbing all the way up here, and now that I was at the top there was nowhere else for me to go.
I sat down heavily, heaving my backpack onto the rock next to me and staring glumly out at the mountains. There wasn’t a building or man-made structure anywhere to be seen, and yet everywhere I looked I just saw his stupid face. It made me want to scream! I glanced around and found a large-ish rock, which I picked up and weighed in one hand. Then, standing awkwardly (the twisted ankle seemed to be throbbing but at the moment I didn’t really care), I walked to the edge and hurled it as hard as I could off the side of the mountain with a little yell.
I waited. I don’t know what I was expecting – a big crash at the bottom? But nothing happened, and the sheer futility of it all just broke my frustration into shards which seemed to cut right through me like glass. I sat back down, wincing as the ankle turned sideways, and started to cry.
I heard him coming up the path before I saw him – a blonde boy about my age, with really pale skin and freckles covering the whole bridge of his nose. He walked right to the edge and stood there looking out over the scene as though he hadn’t seen or heard me, even though I was sitting right there sniffling stupidly into my hands.
He waited until I had myself somewhat under control before coming over and sitting down a few feet away from me.
“Hi. My name’s Cory. Are you here alone?”
“Kerri. And yeah, I just felt like going for a walk.” I rubbed some tears off my face, embarrassed, and turned to get a good look at him. He was tall and skinny with messy dirty-blonde hair, wearing a baggy faded t-shirt and jeans that fitted him well. He didn’t seem out of breath or tired at all – in fact, he might as well have just gotten up off the couch for how casually he sat there. I wasn’t about to tell some stranger why I ran off into the woods in the middle of the afternoon, though, so I went back to looking out over the edge of the rocks, trying my best to stop my stupid sniffling and act like nothing was out of the ordinary.
“It may be none of my business, but it looks like you may have sprained your ankle there. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I wanted to slap him, to tell him it was none of his damn business and to leave me alone, but when I looked at him again there was something in his pale blue eyes that seemed so sad that I forgot what I was about to say and just gaped at him.
“I like to come up here,” he told me. “Something about this view always brings back good memories, and it’s nice to get away from things sometimes. Don’t you agree?” I nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.
“This is the best time of day to be up here too,” he went on. “You can’t beat this view, and the sun’s had all day to warm up the rocks so you can just lie back and watch the clouds go by as long as you want without getting cold.” He proceeded to stretch out on his back, folding his hands behind his head and gazing unconcernedly up at the clear blue sky. I stared at him for a minute, then shrugged and lay down next to him on the smooth rock.
I don’t know how long we lay there, not saying anything, but the clouds had all blown over and the beating sunlight was starting to get hot when I suddenly sat up, feeling like a kettle about to boil over. All at once it just bubbled up out of me, the words and feelings that I’d been fighting all day. I gushed all my problems to Cory, and he just sat there, watching me and smiling in a way that made me feel as though this was what he’d been patiently waiting for all afternoon.
I told him about my ex-boyfriend and what a jerk he was and the stupid fight we’d had over and over and how it felt when I finally hit him in the face. I told him how alone I felt, and how I had nobody to talk to, and what a miserable loser I was. I told him everything, and he just sat there smiling that sad smile and watching me with those blue eyes as I cried and complained and yelled until finally everything was out in the open. And then I just sat there, sniffling and feeling like a sponge that’s had every last drop of water squeezed out of it.
“Do you feel better now?” he asked after a minute of silence. “I could tell that something was really bothering you, but didn’t want to ask until you were ready.” Those blue eyes just kept looking at me, as though he could see right through my crying face to everything I was thinking and feeling.
“I feel… quieter, I guess. Not as angry,” I admitted, and found myself smiling just a little bit.
“Bottling all that up can really do that to you, you know. Are you sure you’re okay? How’s your ankle?”
“It’s… better, I guess. I feel better,” I answered, unsure what to say.
“Well, it sounds to me like you’re better off without that guy. He seems like a real jerk,” Cory said matter-of-factly. “Now you’re free to do what YOU want to do, like come hiking up here. You deserve to be happy. And you should smile more; you’ve got a really pretty smile, you know.”
I blushed, despite my splotchy tear-stained face. I don’t know who this guy was, but just the fact that he was willing to sit here and listen to all my problems without judging me or interrupting made a world of difference.
I looked back out at the view and was surprised to see how late it had gotten; it was definitely past dinnertime, and I hadn’t had a bite to eat all day. I rummaged in my pack and pulled out the bag of chips.
“You want some of these?” I asked, holding the open bag out towards my new friend.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry,” he said, and there was something in his tone that made me wonder if he thought I was being funny. I shook my head and started eating the chips, feeling suddenly ravenous. When they were all gone, I wiped my hands on my jeans and just sat there with Cory, watching the patterns of the sunlight as it passed over the mountains and changed the trees from bright golden green to a hazy sort of bluish color, like a still lake in the summertime. I suddenly realized it was time to go.
“So listen… it’s getting kind of late…” I started, and turned to see that Cory was already on his feet and heading off towards the path. He turned and beckoned to me, grinning.
“Come on, slow poke.” He laughed, and I found myself grinning and hopping up to follow him, slinging the backpack over my shoulder. My ankle didn’t even hurt anymore, and I felt strangely energized after the potato chips.
We chatted and laughed all the way down the path, until at one point we stopped to peek out over a smaller overlook that I had completely failed to notice on my way up here. He pulled me up onto the rock after him and we gazed out at the sun, which was just beginning to set over the mountains. Unexpectedly, Cory took both my hands in his and looked right into my eyes with his big blue ones. His hands were cold, and I shivered a little at his touch.
“Kerri. Listen to me,” he said earnestly. “Don’t you ever let anybody make you feel worthless, okay? You’re a really smart, cute girl who’s got so many experiences to look forward to in life. Enjoy them, okay? For me.” I just nodded, wondering where all this was coming from. “I’ve got to go now,” he added, looking back over his shoulder. He released my hands then and just turned and walked back into the trees.
I stood there a minute or two longer, watching the sun set and wondering who this boy was and where he came from; but when I got back to the path, I saw no sign of him anywhere. Slowly making my way back down the mountain, I thought over the events of the day and found myself feeling really good about my decision to come up here. After all, how often to I have a day free to just go for a hike? And Cory, wherever he went, made me feel a whole lot better about the whole breakup thing. If I caught up to him at the bottom of the trail, I found myself thinking with a little smile, maybe I’d just give him my phone number.
On the way back down the mountain, I found myself noticing a lot of things I hadn’t seen before – a chipmunk, perched on a rock just off to the right of the path, looked up from his acorn at me but didn’t run away. There was a little stream running parallel to the path for awhile, and where it crossed over I stopped to splash through the cold water, getting my sneakers soaking wet. I noticed also that there were a lot of different kinds of trees, and that their leaves made different rustling sounds when the breeze caught them if you were quiet enough to hear it.
By the time I got back to my car it was getting pretty dark, and I tossed my pack on the backseat, ready to head home and thinking that it had turned out to be a pretty good day after all. There was nobody else in the lot, so I guess Cory had already gone home. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen any other cars when I got here either… just a coincidence that he happened to get here while I was hiking then, I suppose.
As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I noticed a sign by the trail entrance that I hadn’t seen before. I pulled up next to it and rolled down the window. It was a little plaque, carved out of wood and dated, that read:
“In memory of Cory Smith, writer and adventurer, who was tragically lost in the 1996 rockslide while hiking this path with his sister.” There was a bunch of pink roses sitting on top of the plaque, and they looked new. I looked around again, but didn’t see anybody.
“Cory?” I said aloud, to nobody in particular. Then I rolled up the window, turned back onto the highway and headed for home, wondering just what had happened up on that mountaintop and feeling very lucky indeed.
