9: DANDELIONS
Supper was a tin can dinner. It was apple juice cans filled with beef, tomato sauce, and vegetables that we cooked over the fire. For something so simple, it was kind of amazing. The taste of something warm and flavourful almost made my stomach ache. The only thing that was holding me back from devouring my food was the stick I was eating with.
We had no utensils. And the only things we had to eat with were around us in nature.
“You’re eating with my stick,” Twinner said.
I glared at her. “Are you kidding me, I spent like an hour trying to find this stick. You’re full of shit.”
“Give it back.”
“I dare you to take it from me—”
She stood up and began to walk toward me where I was eating.
I threw it in the woods. It disappeared between the trees and bushes.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s mature.”
“It was totally yours too.”
“Valerie, that wasn’t good of you,” Guy said.
“Thank you Guy, I’m aware.”
Twinner didn’t kill me like she looked like she was going to. Instead, she sat back down beside her twin. Tracy passed Twinner her own stick to use when she was done eating. They were all so giving and caring.
“Take the high road,” I told Twinner. “Good job. It’s what a Dandelion would do.”
“Just ignore her,” Brooke said.
“Let’s ignore you, more like.”
“Jesus Val,” Twin said.
“Jesus yourself,” Karen said back.
The sun had just gone down. The air was cool, and I shivered in my t-shirt. One of the boys tried making the fire. I watched while I slurped my tin dinner like a drink.
I recognized the techniques from earlier when I had tried making a fire, and noticed the same mistakes I had made. But he had more help. Larry came in and showed the boy how to place his foot and how to hold the bow. Eventually, there was a little ember on the bark, and it gave us fire.
“I’m going to come up to Basinview some day and take you on a real date,” Murray said. He was eating his tin beside me on the log, slurping like me because he hadn’t bothered to find a stick of his own either.
“Oh yeah, is this before or after you go to jail?” Mary asked beside him.
I looked at Murray. It was shocking to hear such candid information. That Mary would reveal another person in front of someone else. But Murray needed to be taken down a peg. To be reminded of real life. And Mary knew what she was doing. Her little eyes could see everything.
Murray looked devastated. He had food in his mouth and he kept his eyes on the ground. He chewed his food so much that it had to be liquid in his mouth. After a minute, he got up and left.
I followed him over to his bag.
“Is that it?”
He wouldn’t look at me, and he kept digging through his bag to avoid eye contact.
“You’re in that much trouble that you’re going to jail?”
He stopped rummaging through his bag and straightened up. He was much taller than me, but I tried to stand up straight to get up there with him.
“Why won’t you tell me? I don’t care. We’re all messed up here.”
“It’s bad. And you’re not going to like me if I tell you.”
“I don’t like you all that much regardless.”
“Valerie…” He closed his eyes.
“Come on,” I said. “I won’t tell anyone. I don’t give a shit. I swear.”
“I got a DUI.”
“Oh.”
Murray’s tongue picked at the back of his molars. His grey eyes stayed focused on my face. Maybe he wanted to see my reaction.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m not thinking anything,” I said. “Honestly, that sucks you got a DUI. But shit happens when you get drunk. I know that.”
“Yeah.” Murray looked away from me.
“I’m not some angel either, you know.”
“Sure”
“I held a loaded gun up to my head once.”
He laughed.
“What?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth. I was messed up as fuck when I did it, but still. And it happened just as the party was getting broken up by the cops, and they pushed me to the ground and everything. I passed out in their car and they took me to the hospital, where they called my Dad.” I laughed. “And he was some impressed with me.”
“Really?” Murray wasn’t laughing. “What did he say?”
It felt like I was being judged. The guy going to jail was judging me, and I couldn’t believe it. I looked at my feet. My boots were so tight that it felt like they were cutting my circulation off. I was getting nervous just sitting there. I immediately wished I hadn’t told him.
“You don’t seem like that kind of person to get mixed up with that stuff. I can’t really picture you doing any of it.”
I wanted to say something back—like neither can I! But that wouldn’t make sense either. I’d done it all, and I had no right to sit back and say I wasn’t that person anymore. Maybe I still was.
Mary called on us. We stood up and joined the others. She led us through the brush of the small island, along the path with only a few flashlights at our feet, and pointed out the flora of the area. It was interesting even though I knew all about it. I guess it was good to be reminded of your surroundings. You couldn’t ever know too much.
After exploring Lonely Island we went out to explore the surrounding small islands in the dark. I had to share a canoe with Guy because they no longer trusted me to stay out of the water. I got in the front, and Guy sat in the back with the lantern. When we were out in the open water, away from the other residents in their canoes, I could see that we looked like a bunch of glowing bugs sitting on the water. It was pretty, and someone howled from their canoe up ahead, like a wolf crying to the moon. It was Murray. I turned and looked at Guy.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Why is Murray at this program?”
“Did you ask him?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said he had a DUI.”
“And what do you think of that?”
“He’s an idiot for doing that…but I don’t know what else.”
“Why?”
“Because a DUI is bad.”
“Are you perfect?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him why you’re here?”
“Yeah. Mostly.”
“Why’d you tell him and not anyone else?”
“Just to see what he would say—a stranger’s opinion. And he was shocked by it.”
“Why do you think you’re here, Valerie?”
I thought about it. And then I smiled because it was simple. “I’m lazy.”
Guy stopped paddling.
“What did I say wrong?”
“You’re unmotivated. And that isn’t entirely your fault,” he said. “You have something that’s broken in you. It’s hard to get back into a routine once it’s stopped working. You just have to push yourself. That’s hard to do on your own.”
“Well that’s a bunch of bullshit.”
“Stop it.”
“Just saying.” I was glad to be in the front. He couldn’t see my face. In the distance, where the other canoes were floating, and way out there, among the trees, were lights. Lights of civilization. Right on the lake. Like Murray had said.
“Val, you’re not a bad kid.”
“Sure.”
“You just act bad sometimes, but you’re not bad.”
“What about Murray?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’ll tell you.”
“He already did.”
“Sure.”
I stared out into the water.
“Let’s head back now, the others have left us.”
“It’s funny, I coul
d just jump out of this canoe and swim. And you couldn’t get me back into it. And I could swim to shore or something and disappear.”
“I don’t think so.”
“No?” I turned and looked at Guy. “You don’t think I could?”
“I think you could. Anyone could. I just don’t see the point. You could jump out but I’d follow you. And even if you did somehow manage to get away, you couldn’t actually disappear. We would find you eventually. It would be a slow, expected chase, where we either find you okay, amused, or dead.”
“I don’t think you would find me.”
“What if we didn’t find you—what would you do out here? What’s so exciting about running away from us? You just like being chased. And once you’re out there I think it would sink in that being alone isn’t all that exciting.”
“I don’t know, I think it would be a lot better than being stuck here with everyone else.”
When we headed back to Lonely Island, Murray was watching me from the shore. Rick told him to come away from the dock, which I was relieved for. I didn’t feel like talking to him anymore about himself.
I was exhausted from being out there all day, and it was amazing that I just wanted to be back in my bunk at the cabin. I missed a solid bunk with a thin mattress, which I never would have thought was possible. But that was what happened when worse things came after bad things—it put other areas of your shitty life into a different kind of perspective. Maybe that was why I missed Basinview so much—I had it good in that small town all along.
My backpack was on the ground next to the fire pit. I pulled my toiletry bag out of it and headed to the bushes to brush my teeth. I scrubbed my molars like there was a layer of filth that needed to come off. I was finally used to the feeling of just using a toothbrush and water, and it felt good to feel the fuzz on my teeth go away. The counsellors watched me with flashlights on my back, and when I looked up at the sky after spitting out the water from my mouth, a star shot over my head.
“Did you see that?” I turned around and looked at the group near the fire.
“I did,” Tracy said.
“That was amazing. I’ve never seen a shooting star before.”
“Better make a wish,” Mary said. She closed her eyes.
“Maybe I will ask for my bike back.” I looked over at Rick. He surely remembered that night I had freaked out, the night I had showed my true colours.
“No, that’s silly,” Larry said. “Wish for a moment. Something you hope to have happen. Something that isn’t physical.”
I looked up at the sky and thought about my sister, Amanda, and how she had left Basinview. I thought about my Mum, living alone, also starting over after twenty-one years of marriage. I wondered how those two had the guts to just go away and begin a new life somewhere else, knowing it was going to be hard. That was so insane to me. And they were both no longer under the same roof as me, but we still shared the same sky, and looked at the same moon. That was kind of nice. And sad. I was the last one left who hadn’t done anything drastic yet. I was still stuck and scared.
I wished to be shocked back to life.
“What’d you wish for?” Murray asked. He had come up behind me just as I was putting my stuff back in my bag.
“I didn’t wish for anything to happen,” I lied. “I couldn’t think of anything.”
“Well, that’s actually a good one. I hope it comes true for you.”
Before getting our sleeping bags set up, we all sat around the fire. We were going to have a ceremony for those who were moving up to be Dandelions. Mary suggested singing campfire songs before we started.
“Anyone have a song they’d like to teach us?”
Brooke raised her hand.
“What is it, Brooke?” Mary asked.
“Black socks.”
Larry knew it. He sang in his old man, gravelly voice. And then Brooke came in just as he sang the last two words over and over of the girl guide song a lot of girls in my town, and apparently others, had grown up with—
“Not yet. Not yet. Not yet—”
Both Larry and Brooke sang Black Socks, and the chorus of “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet”. It was a strange mix of youth and old age, ignorance and wisdom, and sadness and acceptance. Their voices almost sounded good together, and they abruptly stopped right at the same time.
“That was weird,” Karen said.
There were lanterns all around the fire, lighting up the logs we were sitting on. It was a celebration. Some of us were moving up to be a Dandelion, and it was a big deal if you were a Stone. Being a Dandelion meant a lot of things. We would have an extra ten minutes in the morning to wash and get ready. And there were washer and dryer privileges. Life was easier being a Dandelion.
Larry got up from his spot on the log. He looked at each of us and held his right hand up to silence us. He had a little bit of growth on his face, and his eyes were looking somewhere else while he waited for us to be quiet.
Eventually, we went silent and he began.
“The greatest disappointment that you will ever feel in life is for yourself,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows. That wasn’t exactly a motivating thing to hear. That was just depressing. It didn’t seem like a necessary piece of advice that we needed to know.
“Do not let that fact scare you,” he said. He walked around the fire, and kept his back to us. Larry turned around, and walked in the other direction. “Disappointment is a chance to change something, and change is life forgiving you. If you feel disappointed in yourself, know that you are lucky enough to care, and that you’re taking the first step in getting better.” He stopped and looked all around. At each person he gazed into their eyes. He skipped over me.
I kept my eyes on him, in case he came back to me.
“You are not in charge of how you feel. But you are in charge of your actions. Once you know the meaning behind your feelings, you can let yourself feel everything and not be afraid of it. You are allowed to feel sad, you are allowed to feel lonely, you are allowed to hate yourself. But if you know these feelings, and why they are there, they cannot consume you. That is what being self-aware is all about, and self-awareness is the key to being okay.”
I yawned. It was a long one too. It came over me and my ears popped.
“Tonight, some of you have moved on to be Dandelions, and you should feel accomplished since you have done something good for yourselves. And those of you who are not Dandelions, I want you to feel disappointed. Disappointment is life motivating you. Listen to your gut. Once you feel it, you will know you are on your way to getting where you want to be, even if you don’t know where that is right away.”
When Larry was done speaking, Mary, Rick, and Guy stood up and faced us. They went around and placed a long set of dark, wooden beads around each Dandelions neck. Karen got one, and Brooke, and Tracy, and then they skipped me, and Murray didn’t get one either, but other people did—-
The counsellors started to clap.
I looked down at my feet. It was awkward. We were in the middle of nowhere, and we were celebrating something stupid. And they were clapping for the Dandelions that had been revealed. It was all so stupid to be a Dandelion, and it didn’t matter to me at all because it didn’t actually exist.
Murray looked at me. He had a smirk on his face.
“What?”
“Looks like we’re more alike than different after all.”
I looked at the other girls. They were all wearing the wooden beads around their necks. Maybe they could hang themselves with it. I looked at Tracy. She had a little smirk at the corner of her lips. It was the first time I wanted to smack her and yell at her. She was falling for it. She was letting herself be treated. And there I was, in New Horizons’ world, still a random Stone that couldn’t be lifted off the ground.
Guy took our boots away from us when we were all in our sleeping bags. It was for our safety, in case we decided to go running in the night. The boys and girls were separat
ed, just like back at our cabins, only there was ten feet between us.
I didn’t sleep much knowing the counsellors kept taking turns walking around and watching us. I didn’t like closing my eyes while someone looked at my face. My eyes stayed open and I froze from the cold ground. The tarp was doing nothing to keep the cold off of the sleeping bag and I felt damp. At least it wasn’t raining.
"Will you shut your goddamn breathing off? I can't sleep with you taking up all the oxygen," Karen whispered beside me.
I turned over onto my side and pretended not to hear her. But she made me smile. And it was a real, nice and wide smile because somewhere between arriving at New Horizons and canoeing across a lake, I had associated with a teenage screw up. Someone who was probably really bad. And since I didn’t know much about her besides our own context of New Horizons, she and I had become acquaintances. Anywhere else, we would never have looked at each other.
I shivered all night and listened to the sounds of the woods. Most of the time I was nervous about what animal was making what sound. It was creepy being out there without a tent. We were out in the open, and the sky was looking down.
There were fireworks.
Tracy bolted upright first. It startled her awake. Next were the twins, who got to their feet.
“It’s just fireworks, guys.” Mary pointed at the sky, like we didn’t have eyes of our own. “Get back in your sleeping bags.”
Murray’s eyes were on me immediately. I looked at him and I could just make out a smile on his face. He knew what I was thinking—that civilization was right there in front of us. And it was celebrating.
In the morning, after I had gotten maybe two hours of sleep total, Guy passed us back our boots. I pulled mine on, and the blisters on my feet stung. The socks seemed to be growing into the sores, making things worse, and I thought about going barefoot instead. I would’ve loved a second pair of socks, or even to wash them. I wasn’t a Dandelion though.
Our trip was almost over. All that was left was heading back across the lake, where our cabins and normal day to day life was waiting for us.
"Logan, wrong canoe," Larry said. He came up behind Karen and pointed to his canoe. Guy got in my canoe again, and Larry paired off with Logan. I got the better deal.
We were in last place in the long line of canoes. I wasn’t exactly in a rush to get back, and I think Guy sensed that. I was off in daydream land, where it was easier to live. A couple times I had pulled my paddle out of the water and sat it across my lap while he pushed our canoe forward. I liked to watch the water and how it separated at the front. It was calming to watch—
“Val.”
I flinched and put my paddle back in the water.
“Wake up.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Just thinking.”
“You can think and paddle at the same time. And you can even talk about what you’re thinking about too.”
“Don’t be crazy.”
We followed along all the way to camp. When everyone else tied up their canoes, ours stayed adrift to wait for room on the dock. I looked around. The fence was at the edge of the cliffs, high up away from the shoreline. Further down the shoreline, the woods met the water. I knew I would find a road if I disappeared for a bit into it.
But I didn’t have the chance right then. I hooked up my canoe to the dock, and I walked back up the stairs. If I actually wanted to escape from the program, I had to wait until the perfect, exact moment when everything lined up for me.