Chances and Changes: My Journey with Molly

Linda collapses when we get to the top of the hill for lunch. She asks why every hike is always uphill. Molly says uphill is where the views are. She helps Linda slip off her rucksack and puts it on the ground by ours. The three of us use a stump as a lunch table. When we all get our sandwiches, I tell them that on hikes, I’m always hurrying to keep up with Gem. Linda comments that Gem is an odd name. I tell her it’s really GM, for Grandmother. But I slur GM into Gem.

Molly asks if I’ve always lived at the ranger station. I tell them that I have. The station is a log cabin and a little clearing in the forest. My parents lived there, too. They died when I was younger. Linda and Molly both give me their condolences. My heart always hurts when I talk about Mom and Dad. I add that since then it’s always been just Gem and me. Until Mischa came.

Linda comments that Mischa is a Russian name. I must be happy that Mischa has come to help Gem the way our Russian allies are helping us win the war. I agree, I should be grateful. It’s just that things have been all mixed up since he arrived. Gem and Bea and I used to do everything in the preserve together. Now, Mischa is doing all the things I used to do. He’s taking over. I don’t know what I am supposed to be responsible for anymore.

Molly’s been listening carefully and says that she knows how I feel. Responsibilities have all been messed up at her house too ever since Dad came home from the war. It’s hard to know what she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t want to hurt Dad’s feelings but… her voice trails off.

Molly looks worried. I think about her conversation with her dad. There was a moment there when she looked the same way as now. Something is bugging Molly. but before I can ask her about it, Barbara announces that lunch is over. It’s time to get back on the trail.

We clean up and heave our rucksacks on our backs. Judy counts all of the campers and says we’re all accounted for. When we’re walking, Molly says she’s sorry about Mischa. But my life at the ranger station sounds like living at camp all year round. I agree it sort of is. Molly and the other girls only get two weeks to enjoy what I have all the time.

I think about music camp. It might be fun to spend two months with a bunch of noisy new friends who all love music.

It’s late in the afternoon when we stop in a clearing under tall pine trees. An old rattletrap truck from camp meets us and we unload tents for the girls who don’t want to sleep out under the stars. The truck is like an old fashioned chuck wagon because the driver unloads food for dinner. We all help Barbara and Judy build a campfire and we cook hot dogs on sticks.

I put baked beans in my bun, and then a hot dog like I always do. Linda points out that I invented something new. I explain that Bea invented this. We call it Bea’s Beandog. A few of the other girls try the beandog, including Molly, who likes it a lot.

We eat about twenty hot dogs apiece. That’s definitely the same in 1945: hikers get hungry. Between the beans and the ketchup and the mustard and the relish, all our hot dogs are dripping and messy. Soon, we are all dripping and messy, too. I’m glad when we head off to the stream to wash up.