Never Alone

Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

The motor home came to a stop above the bank of a small stream. I'd never been anywhere like it before. There were other campers on both sides of us in large tents and children were playing along the dirt road that ran the length of the campground and snaked between each site. When the engine was finally shut down, the only noises were the playful sounds of the children and the rushing song of the water over the rocks in the stream below.

"You guys are free to hang out in front of the RV or in the recreational room near the gift shop. Dinner will be in about two hours, so make sure you're back by then. Stay in groups of two or more." Dr. Crimm got out of the driver's seat, her tablet and an old notebook in her hand as she descended the stairs and stepped out of the motor home. For a few minutes no one made a move, but then Marco stood and motioned toward the front.

"Let's go down to the stream and check it out." He waited near the doorway for the rest of us and when Damien stood to join him, the rest of us followed, too. You would never have believed that just days ago we were all isolated enough to try and commit suicide. Today we were a pack of six, hanging out together as if we had always been friends. I guess psychological stress and forced attempts at recovery will do that to you.

Ken didn't bother with the wheelchair. Marco and Damien propped an arm over each of their shoulders and helped him make it a few steps to the edge of the bank. He lowered himself down and let his cast dangle over the rocks and dirt. The rest of us hopped down and carefully traversed the pebbled shoreline until we could touch the cold, rushing water. I bent down and searched for the smoothest rocks I could find, choosing three and sliding them between my finger and thumb, enjoying the soft, silken feel of their surface against my skin.

I stood again, looking for the perfect place to send the rocks sailing. Aideen stood beside me, her beautiful red hair getting caught up in the cool evening breeze. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, her chest rising in a deep breath. Marco's feet crunched the rocks behind us as he moved toward the water, Damien not far behind. The two of them scooped rocks and threw them at the opposite shoreline like baseball players warming up to pitch. Shima and Ken watched from their perches on the ledge.

I'd stopped believing in perfect moments months ago. I stopped believing that things could go right again. I couldn't tell you the last time I had stood with my back to someone and not felt my heartbeat quicken in warning, or my palms grow moist with fear and anticipation. Yet somehow on that shoreline, all of that faded away. It was washed from the day like sand from the shore and swept farther and farther from me the longer we stood there together.

I'm not saying some miracle happened or that all it took was some sunshine and flowing water—we were all too broken to be fixed with a little vitamin D and joined molecules of hydrogen and oxygen. You can't stack together shattered glass that used to be functional and expect it to hold liquid the way it once did, but if you had asked me in that instant if I thought it were possible, I might have told you that maybe the dashed pieces and jagged fragments could be glued to form something beautiful, something that might never be able to hold what it should but could still be worth something to someone.

I drew back my hand and flung the first stone across the surface of the shimmering water. It skipped twice, dancing along before dropping beneath the surface. "Two," Damien marked aloud.

Not to be outdone, Marco found his own smooth stone and skipped it in the same path mine had traveled. His bounced four times before sinking. "Four," Damien stated.

"Show-off," I replied.

Marco laughed, the sound rich and deep. He chose another stone and skipped it across the surface. It bounced four times.