Work Text:
The alarm buzzed and pulsed. Four in the morning. Up and at ‘em. This was routine, yet not something Mary was used to yet. She internally cursed as she got ready for the day, quickly, because the hot water only stayed hot for so long, and eventually soon someone else would need the bathroom. In around fifteen minutes, Mary is done and down the stairs from the dorm to the dining room, where a few people already sit, indulging in light conversation. She’s on time.
Earlier in the summer, Mary can’t quite remember when anymore, her mother sent her to this camp, Camp Dawes. It was called a “natural retreat for adolescents.” Mary thought at first her mother was sending her away to be with a bunch of depressed kids, and in a way she did. Other kids there were struggling with things in their life as well as Mary. Camp Dawes promised them healing through nature. Disconnect.
Disconnect meant no phones except for on weekends to call family. Mary, of course, was hesitant to give up her phone, but they let her keep it till the end of orientation, and by then she’d been sold. The camp was nestled in the mountains, overlooking a lake and a valley. Every morning they hiked. Hiking was for grounding yourself, one camp counselor had explained. To start every day knowing exactly where you are. That was a romantic idea, Mary had thought. But Mary wasn’t much of a nature person.
She learned to get used to the morning hikes, however. She walked beside someone always, and would usually make conversation when she felt comfortable, though most campers preferred silence. And in ways, Mary benefitted from routine, even if it wasn’t exactly a routine she preferred. The similarity was good. And the breakfast after the hike was also quite enjoyable. The newest morning hike disrupted the similarity.
Mary had a new hiking partner, she introduced herself as Alice. Alice was tall, with straight brown hair that cut off at her shoulders, and a clipped tone. Apparently, Alice had been one of the first kids to attend Camp Dawes. She knew the trails well. She didn’t look at Mary for most of the hike. Mary soon zoned out. She was on autopilot for most of these hikes anyway. The day was cloudier than yesterday, the ground wetter. The campers were silent. Alice was gone. Alice was gone?
No. But Alice was going off their original trail. Silently in confusion, Mary follows Alice through bushes and trees to another lightly paved path. She began to walk in the opposite direction of the campers in the direction of the mountains. Leaving Mary even more confused and a bit scared, Mary continues to follow her hiking partner. They weave through the big trees with long branches and soft leaves. It’s all beautiful, Mary thought, but where the hell is Alice going?
“Where the hell are you going?” Mary asks.
Alice finally turns to face Mary.
“Follow me and see. Enjoy the views.”
And so Mary did.
Alice led Mary further into the woods, then the trees on Mary’s right dissolved to a view of the valley, closer this time. The sky was grey and clouds were forming yet everything felt strangely calm. Alice kept on further and further. Mary’s pace slowed. Alice turned around.
“Thirsty?”
Mary nodded eagerly, surprising herself. Alice took a water bottle out of her rucksack to give to Mary. Mary said a rushed “thank you” and drank the water as if she hadn’t had it in years. She was sated after the bottle was quickly empty. Remembering soon enough, she froze.
“How far are we from camp?”
“A couple miles. If we head back now, we’ll be back for crafts, but I say we’ve already gone so far and what’s the harm in going farther?”
Mary pondered the question in her mind. What’s the harm? Fuck it.
“I want to go to the lake.”
“Well then to do that, we’ll have to go farther.” Alice grinned.
They walked farther along the mountain, the air smelling of rain. Mary looked up to the mountains to see the snow was still heavy at the tops. She faced the valley, lush and green. The lake, getting ever closer, water dark and serene. Everything felt still in its place yet moving. Mary decided after some thought that everything was moving, just slower than anyone was used to. That was how everything was out here. Slow.
In the city Mary usually lives, everything rushes by, leaving no time for anyone. Hell, one’s own life lives them before one can live it. Who knows how many memories Mary forgot because there was something else to focus on, to do. That was part of what led her to Camp Dawes in the first place. Life was getting too fast, and Mary was floundering trying to catch up to it. The need to catch up tugged at her heart and took hold of her wrists. Sometimes it made her immovable, breathless.
Up here, in the middle of nowhere, life was almost at an absolute zero. Little movement at all. Early mornings and evenings. In between, you hike and you write letters to yourself and you eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and you listen to the music the camp provides and you let time touch you and pinch your cheeks and play cards with you. Camp Dawes was a haven of a perfectly boring life: nice, free of modern complications, but boring. It was a senior facility, thought Mary, a sweet place for the elder to die.
The trees started to get sparse after some time. Mary was shocked to see the lake was finally up close. Alice ran up to the body of water. Mary felt inclined to do the same. In the water, Mary could see herself, round face and curly hair and brown eyes. She looked to where Alice was also looking down at the water and could see Alice looking at her reflection. It felt strangely nice to have her reflection looked at.
Alice yawned. Was she tired this whole time? Alice sat and laid by the waterside, head rested on her rucksack and eyes closed. She looked at peace with the world. Mary mimicked her and took her own spot laid in the grass by the lake. They stayed there for a while, just laying. Mary suspects Alice might’ve actually taken a nap for a little.
When they get up they take a lap around the lake in peaceful silence. They take one last glance at the water. Alice reaches down and scoops some water. Mary’s shocked when Alice throws the water at her. Having an urge for revenge, Mary takes some water and throws it back to Alice. They both feign annoyance for a beat before breaking off into fits of laughter. Right as their giggles reach their peak, thunder cracks and lightning flashes in the distance for both of them to see. Alice gives a knowing look to Mary.
It’s not long before they’re headed back to camp, traversing back up the hills, into the trees. This time it’s different. Mary doesn’t know why but she feels even closer to this place than before. The trees are more enticing with their soft green blooming leaves and strong rusty trunks. The ground is moist with life and rocks and woodchips that crunch nicely under Mary’s feet. The occasional flower along the trail excited her.
They make it to camp by the beginning of sunset. The campers are already preparing for dinner by now, Mary knows. It does click that she spent most of the day with a camper she hardly knew, but she can’t seem to care too much. It was fun. The most fun she’s had at the camp so far. She gave a thankful grin to Alice before she departed to the dorms, Alice heading in the direction of the mess hall.
Mary thought she could get away with a brief journal entry before dinner. She doesn’t have to worry about time much anyway, though, all that she’s able to write is “Went hiking alone with Alice - the most fun I’ve had.” She’s kept a journal recently to try and remember moments in her life. However, Mary’s pretty confident she won’t forget this any time soon.