Beyond Death

Hiking For Health & Pleasure

Jennifer showed up at the house early the next morning looking too cheerful for a person standing outside in the mist at this hour. I felt that if I didn't have to be at the tea room to work, then I deserved to sleep in a little and enjoy the comforts of my warm bed. My friend had other ideas.

"I thought you could use some time out of this big old house."

"Oh. I've left it a few times. I'm not stuck here."

"I know," she replied, kicking at an imaginary speck of dirt on the front porch. "Maybe I felt a little bit guilty about storming out yesterday too."

"It's fine."

"So, wait, are you saying no to a hike?" She frowned at me, twisting a ratty baseball cap between her hands.

"Are you going to feel offended if I am?"

"No. But I am going to demand you give me coffee since I drove all the way out here on guilt."

I held the door open and gestured for her to come inside. "I thought you said it was because you were worried about my state of health," I teased.

"Whatever." She kept her hiking boots laced up and headed straight for the kitchen.

I offered to make breakfast but she declined, so I made myself toast with jam and took the cup of coffee she poured for me and together we sat down at the table in silence. It wasn't precisely comfortable, but I'd encountered more strained silences before.

"You like hiking?" I asked after a couple minutes had passed, and I'd polished off my toast, reduced to chasing burnt crumbs with my finger.

Jennifer shrugged. "Yeah, it's invigorating."

"That's one word for it."

"I spend a lot of time sitting at a computer. I like sitting at a computer. But it makes me feel kind of restless after a while."

I scrunched up my nose. The Jennifer I had known hadn't had any particular fondness for hiking. And she had never tried to make me go along with her. She went out fishing with Byron sometimes, but I think that was because she liked eating salmon and cream cheese on her bagels, and he always said if she wanted a fish she had to catch it herself.

"But hiking?"

"Yeah, why not? It's good for me." She gave me a quick look. "I'm not going to get you out am I?"

I shook my head. "I could not think of anything worse. Sorry."

"Okay. What about a walk. Not a hike, just a walk. We could walk around town and talk about all the stuff that's different."

I winced.

"Oh, come on, you can't stay up here in the house all day again."

"I went shopping yesterday."

"Oh. See anything interesting?"

I must have hesitated a second too long because Jennifer leaned forward with an eager look on her face.

"You did."

"I just—I saw someone I used to know. I think I need to focus on my reality problem more than I need a walk around the block. I'm not a dog."

"I wasn't trying to say you were. Look, I'm not going to force you to do anything I just thought I'd see if you wanted some company and..." Jennifer squinted her eyes. "Who did you used to know? Wait, was it Byron?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why would you think that?"

"He's the only other person you've mentioned to me. You know, with that whole sob story about how the three of us are like the tres amigos of Meridian."