Chances and Changes: My Journey with Molly

I tell the girls that Molly was right when she said the path thus far has been uphill. So we should follow Molly’s suggestion. I can tell from Linda’s expression that she’s dubious about my choice. It might be smart and safe to go uphill, but as we go, we realize that it’s not easy to trudge up the winding path in the rain. We hike single-file, Linda behind Molly, me behind Linda. Up, up, up we climb. My heart is pounding and my legs are stiff and heavy as telephone poles. Molly jokes that she feels as wet as Soggy Sam. Linda and I laugh, but we’re all three soaked to the skin. Raindrops mixed with sweat drip off our noses and our feet squish inside our soggy shoes.

Molly slows down and apologizes for suggesting we go uphill. Linda says we would have been just as wet going downhill. The rain isn’t our fault. I tell them we have to keep moving. It’s important to keep moving when it’s raining or else we’ll get too chilled and cold. Molly says that I’m the boss. She wishes that it was as easy to decide who is the boss at her own house right now.

I ask Molly what she means, and she explains that she thought everything would be great when Dad came home. Everyone did. And of course it’s wonderful, but it’s also been hard for her mom and the kids and for Dad. They can’t figure out who’s responsible for what. I think of my responsibilities at home. Now that Mischa is helping Gem, I don’t get to do some of the things in the preserve that I love to do. So I understand how Molly feels. Molly continues and says that her family changed when Dad went away to war. They had to because they had to learn how to do all the things that he used to do. Mom made big decisions, Molly’s brothers and sister and her did Dad’s chores. Now that he’s home, he wants to be in charge again, and everyone is having a tough time adjusting back.

I suggest that they remind Dad that they need him. Maybe Molly’s dad is feeling unnecessary and invisible. Molly looks horrified. She says that’s the last way she’d want Dad to feel. Linda suggests Molly be patient. To give him some time to adjust all the changes. Molly says one thing he definitely doesn’t want to change is the fishing trip at the end of the summer. He has his heart set on going fishing. Linda sounds disappointed. If Molly goes fishing she won’t be a part of the band.

Suddenly, I have an idea. What if Molly asks her dad if he wants to be included in the band. Linda says that would be weird. Dr. McIntire shouldn’t be playing an instrument with the kids. I shake my head. I bet that he could volunteer at the school and come to band practices or help with band fundraisers or organize band uniforms. Molly says she loves that idea and she thanks me for thinking of it. Molly gives me a big hug, but because of the weight of the gear on our backs, we almost topple over. Molly says when we get back to camp, she’ll write to Dad and suggest it.

Linda says it’s great that we’ve solved that problem. but we have another. Molly asks what, and Linda says she’s starving. She groans in such a goofy and dramatic way that Molly and I start giggling. The rain has stopped. Let’s have some lunch.

Molly states that she is so starving she could eat turnips. But she says she doesn’t think we should stop. The rest of the group will just get farther and farther ahead. Linda dramatically says that she’ll faint from hunger if she doesn’t stop to eat. She sits on a rock and pulls a bag of food out of her rucksack. She says we can make cheese sandwiches. Good old Linda. She’s found a practical way of cheering us up—with food.

Unfortunately, our cheers are short-lived. We do our best to make sandwiches, but we don’t have a knife and the cheese crumbles when Linda tries to break it into chunks. Our hands are wet, so we rip the bread as we take it out of the bag. We are hungry, so I bet we would give a lot for some high tech, 21st century camping food like a protein bar or freeze-dried ice cream. I can see that Molly and Linda are discouraged. I hate seeing them unhappy. I suggest we put the cheese on the bread and roll it up like a wrap.

The girls look at me puzzled. I clarify that it’ll be like a burrito. They still have no idea what I’m talking about. I show them rolling up the soggy bread with chunks of cheese inside. Molly and Linda copy me. The tubular sandwiches are lumpy, but Molly and Linda don’t complain. They eat them contentedly.

Linda jokes around that we’ve invented something new. It’s like a grilled cheese sandwich but all spilly. So this is a spilled cheese sandwich. Molly holds hers up and says it’s a killed cheese sandwich. I joke that mine is a Soggy Sam Cheesy, Squeezy Handswitch.

We know the ghost story is only a joke, but talking about the ghost story makes us all think a little bit. When we clean up our lunch supplies, Linda looks over her shoulder as if she’s feeling creeped out at the reminder of Soggy Sam. It stopped raining, but the sky is dark and low, sullen clouds are floating in the sky. Suddenly, Linda stops. She says she hears a sound. Like rustling. Molly and I stop and listen, too, and then we hear it as well. A stick snaps. Now we’re all spooked. Something is coming towards us, and it’s big and heavy and getting closer. Is it Soggy Sam?

It comes closer, but we’re so scared that we’re not thinking straight. Our fear grows stronger and more paralyzing second by second. Molly, Linda, and I clutch one another and huddle together. We can hardly breathe. Gem has warned me hundreds of times about how dangerous it is to cross paths in the woods with a bear or a wolf. I hear more rustling and wonder if it’s an animal. Linda bleats out that we should run. Molly thinks maybe we can’t outrun it. Maybe we should stand and face it. She lets go of Linda and me and she picks up a big stick. We hear a few more clumsy footsteps.