Stay on the Path

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

Stay on the Path

By Plot Roach

This pair, she thought, as she picked up the black hiking shoes at the end of the rack. She turned them over in her hands, looking at the scuff marks, certain she could stain them and rework the leather into something more soft than the jerky it had become from years of neglect in someone’s closet. This pair will do.

She took them to the front of the thrift store and paid five dollars and some change. The woman behind the counter attempted to make small talk with her about the weather, but Kendra was not in the mood. The woman wrapped the shoes in newspaper and slipped them into a plastic bag someone had recycled from a grocery store. Kendra took her purchase and rushed to the nearest bus stop, eager to get home and work on her project.

Maxine had promised to take her hiking, but only when she had acquired the proper shoes for the task, saying that sneakers would only give her blisters on the trek involved and that hiking boots would make her legs stronger from the exercise.

Once home, Kendra brought out her grandfather’s old shoe shine kit, a memento from his early years of survival on the streets during the Great Depression, and began to work the dirt from the shoes before she began to polish them, just as he had taught her as a child.

A few hours later, with sweat soaked through her clothes from the vigorous work, the boots lay on a section of the scrap newspaper that had cushioned them on their trip home. She would let them dry overnight before adding a chemical to make them waterproof. The only thing she had been unable to fix was a deep scratch, almost like a scar, in the leather of the right boot.

She called Maxine, eager to tell her friend of her thrift store treasure. “Let’s wait until this weekend” Maxine said. “I want to get a few more things together before we go on our hike.”

“I have boots and a water bottle, what else could I need for walking?”

“A lot more if an emergency happens while we’re that far away from the city. And Hiking is much different from walking around in the park. You’ll see.” Maxine said.

The weekend approached on what seemed the back of a snail, much too slow for Kendra’s taste. She had packed some items in a lightweight backpack that Maxine had told her to take. I still don’t see what all the fuss is over, she thought. If we get into trouble, can't we just call someone on a cell phone or something?

Maxine and Kendra drove out of the city to a small desert trail that was used by amateurs and professionals as a way to see over the city, without being bothered by the traffic and the noise of it. They parked the car at the base of the hill and shrugged on their backpacks.

“You need to stretch before you begin.” Maxine warned.

“Why?” Kendra asked. “We’re just walking.”

“It’s more than walking.” Maxine said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll find out tonight when your muscles remind you.” Then her eyes rested on her friend’s shoes. “Are those the ones that you told me about?”

“Yes, why?”

“My mother always told me that it was bad luck to wear someone else’s shoes.”

“She probably told you to never step on a crack, either.” Kendra teased.

“No, I think it has something to do with the luck of the person carrying on to the next wearer.”

“I found them dusty in and old thrift shop, I think the owner probably died old and from natural causes. Besides, that rumor probably started when someone got athlete‘s foot from someone else‘s shoes or something.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Are you going to spook me out all day, or are we going to hike?”

The women locked the car and began the long walk up the stairs that lead to the first hiking trail. Along the way, they stopped to admire the information kiosks that were set up, telling the history of the city and of this particular trail. Old photographs and shards of broken pottery were framed with the signs that told of their age and origin. There were photos of old men, the first ones to mark this trail (though it was used as a trade route with the natives and not a landmark in and of itself until much later). She smiled as she recognized the style of boots that they wore, since she was wearing the same pair. Kendra was particularly taken with a piece of pottery which depicted a lizard in black on a sandstone colored shard. If she looked closely, she could see the thumb prints of the sculptor and she almost felt as if she could see the person who made it.

They hiked through the informational trail and into the main trails, each section marked by a post and with a number to signify the difficulty of the trail. They decided on one of the more advanced trails and Kendra could feel the difference as her feet landed on the area populated by course rocks instead of the flat dirt roads pounded into sand by the footsteps of many feet.

“We need to stay together.” Maxine scolded when Kendra stepped off the path a moment to admire a wildflower. “And you need to stay on the path at all times. If you go wandering off, God knows what will happen to you. And if you get lost and get hurt, the paramedics could never find you.”

“Yes, Mom.” Kendra shrugged. She took a swig from her water bottle and realized that she was already halfway through her ration. If we don’t come up on a rest station soon, I’ll be in a bad condition, Kendra thought. She knew that water was the one thing she could not afford to skimp on while out in the wild. She had heard stories of people dying in desert because they had decided to park their cars and stretch their legs. They were usually found less than a hundred yards from their cars and with water still left in their bottles. She felt the thirst creep upon her and took another swig for good measure. “Where’s the next rest stop?” She called ahead to Maxine.

“There isn’t one for another mile or so, why?”

“I would feel better with a full water bottle and an empty bladder.” Kendra said.

“So water the cactus.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take a squat behind a big rock. It’s not like there’s a bunch of people around us to watch.”

Kendra had to admit that her friend was right, they had not passed another hiker in the last thirty minutes. Surely no one would see me? She asked herself. “I’m going behind that group of tumbleweeds.” she yelled out to Maxine.

“Just don’t get yourself lost. And be sure to look before you squat. The last thing I need it to have your butt be bitten by a rattlesnake and have to have you airlifted to the hospital.”

Kendra rolled her eyes and trudged down the side of the trail to the group of tumbleweeds. Once she had relieved herself, she looked in vain for something to wipe with. It’s the desert, you idiot, she thought. She pulled off the bandanna that had been tied around her neck to catch the sweat to use and then tied it to the outside of her backpack. It would dry before long and she promised herself that she would rinse it clean at the next rest stop.

As she began the steep climb back up onto the trail she caught movement from the corner of her eye. It was a lizard, like the one she had seen on the pottery shard back on the information kiosk. It looks so small and fragile out here in the desert, she thought. I wonder if I could catch it and show it to Maxine.

One her first attempt to swipe at the reptile, she overbalanced and the weight of her backpack sent her rolling down the side of the hill. Once she stopped, Kendra sat up to access her injuries and was surprised to note that she only had a few scrapes from the rocks. She called out to Maxine, but received no reply. She looked in the direction from which she had come, but nothing looked familiar to her now. The tumbleweeds having been replaced by a different type of desert vegetation that she could not recognize.

She heard a shuffling noise in the dirt behind her and called out. “Hello? Maxine, is that you? Is anyone there?”

She turned and found a trial in the dirt and decided to follow it. Within a few feet, she found the source of the noise. Someone’s pet dog had gotten off its leash and was running back and forth between her and a spot up ahead. Maybe it’s a rest stop, she told herself as her feet moved a little faster in the hope of seeing another person on the trail.

There was a small village and Kendra wondered at the sight of it. I didn’t think that they would go to this much trouble to make the trail this realistic, she told herself. She recognized the place as one she had seen in the photos on the kiosk. Maybe it’s the gift shop, she thought.

The dog barked and the residents came to investigate. Kendra pulled out her cell phone to try and call Maxine, but she could not get any reception. When she looked up she stood a few feet from people dressed like natives from the photographs. Wow, they really went all out, she thought. “Hi, I’m kind of lost.” she said. “I fell while on one of the trails and I need to find my friend before she freaks out.”

But the people facing her were speaking amongst themselves, in a language she did not recognize. “I was up there.” she said, pointing to the ridge above the village. “And I fell.” She mimed her fall down the side of the slope. The adults talked amongst themselves, as a small child brought her water from a clay pitcher. She took a long swig and then studied the side of the water container. It had the same lizard she had seen in the kiosk on the informational boards. This is just too weird, she thought. Then she heard the roar of an approaching vehicle. When the dust settled, it was an old fashioned car. And in it, men dressed like they had been in the photo. Now this is just way too weird, she thought.

The men approached her as the natives chatted with one of them. “Where are you from, young lady?” One of the men asked, taking off his hat.

“I’m from the city, you know.” She pointed to just off the mountain. “In fact you can see my apartment building next to the city’s biggest building right there-” but she realized that as she pointed that the city was no longer in view. There were no signs of civilization. All that could be seen was the endless stretch of the desert for miles. She dropped the water pitcher in shock and backed away. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to-”

She stopped in mid apology as she realized that one of the shards of clay that had the lizard on it looked exactly like the one that she had seen framed next to the photo of a scene similar to this one. Then she looked across to the man’s shoes next to her, seeing that as she had dropped the clay pitcher, one of the sharp pieces had scraped a line in his right boot. And that it looked exactly like the one on her own.