Einar wasn’t given much time
to think of his “something else,” the strategy by which he hoped to further his
plan to somehow re-set his will, his ability to endure, while keeping inviolate
the agreement he’d made with Liz, and from which she was so stubbornly refusing
to even temporarily release him. He did
not have much time because before his mind could go very far down that path Liz
was busy enthusiastically pushing more food into his hands to go with the stew,
determined that he at least go into the night well fed, should he go on
insisting that he stand some sort of ordeal.
That much at least she could assure, thanks to his so-far rigid
adherence to the promise he had made her in that regard. The rest…
For the rest, I really wish Bud Kilgore was here. He’d know how to set things right… And she wanted
to mention the thought to Einar in the hopes that word of the tracker might jar
him out of the unshakable certainty with which he seemed to be pursuing his
current intent, but of course she couldn’t speak it aloud. Juni’s presence, though largely accepted by
both of them and regarded with a good deal more trust than it had been afforded
in the early days after her arrival, required a level of caution designed to
protect any with whom they’d had contact, and especially such as Kilgore, of
whom the young reporter was already aware and who, through her earlier survival
courses, Einar was firmly convinced she’d met.
The possible connection was too dangerous, almost too unlikely to be
purely coincidental, and she knew that all wrapped up with the other reasons
which compelled Einar out into the winter mountains to run his survival course
for Juni was surely just that question, he determined to pry from her, one way
or another, the answer—why was she really up there, and did it have anything to
do with Bud Kilgore? That particular
pursuit she had no problem with whatsoever.
Wished him luck, actually, in determining the answer, as it might prove
very important in deciding their future course and protecting their
friends. But that wasn’t terribly
relevant just then, not so long as he remained in such grave danger of not
making it through the remaining dark hours.
Best try something else. Appeal
to his sense of logic and reason—if he had any left, at the moment.
“About this thing you want to
go and do tonight…part of survival is knowing when it’s time to quit at one
thing or another, move on, knowing when something is no longer working and a
new thing needs to be tried. You know
that. You taught me the importance of
being able to improvise, change plans while in the middle of carrying them out
if the circumstances require, yet right now I see you being completely
inflexible and utterly refusing to consider that maybe there’s another way,
here. That you really don’t need to kill
your body—which is what you’re headed for, and in a pretty efficient manner,
even if not intentionally—in order to get your mind in line. Think about it. That doesn’t even make sense! Does it?”
Too weary to argue, to try
and explain any more of it to her; had to use what little strength remained—for
if not quite agreeing with Liz’s assessment of where he was headed that night
and the associated peril, he did feel himself dangerously short on energy—to
get himself out there into the darkness away from camp and climbing that ridge
in search of the spot where he could pass the night doing one of the few things
he was absolutely certain would help in such situations. Was going to be enough of a stretch just to
physically get himself up the remainder of that slope, without first wearing
himself out in argument. Besides, he had
no words. Nothing to say, even if he’d
wanted to participate. Which, he knew,
would only have served to help reinforce her point, had he mentioned it. She was staring at him.
“Nothing?”
He shrugged. Wondered what was next. She looked pretty mad. Though it was hard to tell sometimes, in the
firelight.
“Well, I’m not doing it
anymore,” she said with an alarming finality.
“I could knock you in the head with the rabbit stick—goodness knows
you’re not moving quickly enough right now to dodge it, if I plan things
right—tie you into the bear hide and sit on you for the night, but I don’t want
to do that. Just don’t want to do it
anymore. I’ve never really felt right
about pushing you into one thing or another against your will like that, have
only done it for little Snorri now and then, but at some point…you’re just
going to have to decide for yourself whether you’re staying here with us, or
not. I can’t keep deciding that for
you.”
“You never decided…”
“Oh, I know you probably
don’t see it that way, but yes, I have.
More than one time you almost certainly would have frozen in the night
if I hadn’t stepped in, in a way I probably shouldn’t have done. And I’m all through with that. You’re on your own.”
“Our agreement?”
“Done with it. You’re released from it. Go and starve, if that’s what you want to do. It’s no good, that sort of agreement, unless
at some point you come to see the sense in it, take some interest yourself in
changing what you’re doing. I
appreciate your sticking to that agreement so faithfully, because I know what
it cost you, sometimes, to do it, and you certainly stuck to the letter of the
law…but it’s pointless. You were only
doing it for me, and that’s pointless, so it’s done. If you can’t take some responsibility,
yourself, when it comes to making sure you’ll be around to see Will grow up—or
even to see the winter end—then I guess you really might as well just go out
there right now and sit in the snow until the end comes, because it’s going to happen
sooner or later if you keep up this way, and it would spare me a lot of pain—and
certainly would spare you a lot; I can’t even imagine what it must be like,
going on as you are day after day with practically nothing left of your body,
nothing to power your mind, just struggling desperately to find a little energy
somewhere, some other part of you it can start dissolving and absorbing in the
hopes of keeping itself going for a few more hours—so if that’s how it is going to be until the end, it would probably be better for everyone if you
went ahead and got it over with. Don’t
you think?”
“Aw Lizzie, I’m not going
anywhere. Got no intention of leaving
the two of you anytime soon. You ought
to know that by now. Besides, it’s
really not as bad as all that. Life’s
pretty good, spring is coming and I’m doing just fine, really, not nearly as
bad as I guess it must look..”
This time, staring at him
almost in disbelief—he really doesn’t get it.
Doesn’t realize—she did not have any angry retort, no argument, nothing….she
simply slumped down by the fire and wept.
Einar did not know what to
do, had only seen her a time or two display her emotions in such a way and he
glanced from her to Juni as if hoping she’d know what to do, but the
reporter-turned-survival-student just looked away.
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