I’ll do it in quadrants. I have to find this animal and put it out of its misery. I start sectioning off areas, looking for the trail leading out of the panic circles. Nothing.
I start calling out to it. Begging it. Saying it’s going to be OK in my most soothing voice as I heft my killing rock.
I don’t find it. I find the arrow. Must have come out in the mad whirling circles the creature made. I pick up the arrow and realize I’m covered in blood.
I go to the river. I wash Bo’s things first. I leave the bow, arm-guard, and arrows with my note. I can’t bear to take them home with me. Then I wash my body. Blood is stained deep in my skin and clothes. I can’t tell Bo. Something in me says he’d be furious with me for doing something so thoughtless, even if it was a million-to-one shot.
I never should have done that. Careless carnage. I thought I was through with that. Shame stains me more deeply than the blood.
By the time I get back to my grandparents’ house, dusk is turning into dark.
‘I’m here!’ I call out as soon as I push in the code my grandmother had me memorize and open the front door. I slip off my sandals and take off my backpack before rushing upstairs to shuck off my bloody clothes. I toss them to the back of my closet and pull on a sundress. Then I rush to the back deck.
‘We started dinner without you,’ Grandpa tells me as I join them outside.
‘Sorry,’ I say, slipping into my seat at the table, my good-girl mask in place. ‘It got dark fast.’
My grandmother has her lips pressed together in disapproval, but she can’t get too angry. The last dregs of light don’t disappear until after I’ve served myself some salad, so I did make it back before dark. I can tell she’s anxious and feeling a bit out of control. Asking for advice always makes them both feel like they’re in charge of the situation, and luckily I do have something I could ask them.
I don’t want to let anyone else down today.
‘I need a bicycle,’ I say. ‘Any tips about where to buy one?’
‘I’ll take you down to the Outdoor Shop tomorrow,’ Grandpa promises.
The Outdoor Shop is an all-round outdoor equipment store in the centre of town. Taylor works there. I don’t mention that I know all about the Outdoor Shop and don’t need him to take me there to pick out a bicycle. Best to just let Grandpa feel like he’s helping.
I also decide not to tell my grandparents that I need the bike to get to and from the shelter to help Maria with stocktaking of the inventory – at least not right away. I have to ease them into it. They’ll probably object to me being there more. As it is, my grandmother has already asked me a dozen times if three days a week isn’t too much responsibility. Morning bike rides shouldn’t be an issue, though. She’ll probably tell me that they’re calming, or something. She’s always worried about my stress level.
The thing about having a nervous breakdown is that no one ever trusts you to keep your shit together afterwards.
25 JULY
My grandpa and I go to the Outdoor Shop first thing in the morning.
Taylor is there, and he greets me like we’ve been friends for years. I can see my grandpa is torn between being happy that I have friends and feeling silly that I don’t really need his help. As Taylor leads us down the row of different types of mountain bikes, I make sure to keep asking my grandpa for his opinion so he feels useful – and so that he doesn’t feel like I was working him by asking him to come with me in the first place. Which I totally was, but it’s better for everyone if he never catches on about that.
While we’re at the register paying with one of the credit cards my father gave me, Taylor asks how I like working at the shelter.
‘I like it,’ I tell him. But I have to make light of it so he doesn’t sense that what I really mean is that I love it. ‘And i
f I ever want to get a job chopping onions at a restaurant, I’ll have experience.’
‘Yeah, Mila mentioned they’re keeping you back in the kitchen,’ Taylor replies. His wincing smile tells me that the kitchen job is probably considered the worst one, so I roll my eyes and throw up my hands.
‘I’m the new girl. They’re supposed to haze me,’ I say breezily.
‘Yeah, but you gotta get out front to get to know the right girls,’ he says, like I know what he’s talking about. I have no clue what girls are the right ones, and the confused look I give Taylor makes him switch gears.
‘Do you want me to help you hitch that bike up to your car?’ Taylor asks a little too brightly.
I look at my grandfather. ‘I think I’m going to take her out on her maiden voyage,’ I tell him.
‘All right then,’ Grandpa says. ‘See you at lunch.’
‘I got to get back on the floor,’ Taylor tells me.
‘See ya,’ I say half-heartedly. To be honest, I’m a little disappointed in him. I never pegged Taylor as someone who classified people as right or wrong. But who am I to judge him? The majority of my life has been about classifying people.