Played. Liz Fichera

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      Dumb idea, obviously, reaching for that pinecone. If I had only taken one of the many zillion covering the ground, I wouldn’t have tumbled down this mountain and found myself staring up into the sky—and into Sam Tracy’s most assuredly I-told-you-so face. I couldn’t see any of his features, just the black and coppery outline of his head. But how was I supposed to know loose gravel lay hidden beneath a carpet of pine needles?

      “Sam!” I yelled the moment I heard him call my name. “Help me!” I could guess what he was thinking about me now. The words crazy, irrational and unstable came to my mind. No doubt he could add a few more nicknames to my Hello, My Name Is tag, which, miraculously, was still stuck to my chest.

      “I’ll get some help!” His deep voice floated down to me.

      I breathed hard, looking all around me. My arms and legs were stuck in branches at the base of a thick pine tree. Suddenly I was less worried about broken bones than I was about bears and mountain lions. The shiny brochures about Woods Canyon had mentioned the wildlife in the area. Certainly all sorts of animals could scale up and down the side of the mountain as easily as I had somersaulted down it, right? “Wait!” I yelled up to Sam, my voice dry and raspy. Yelling burned my chest. “Don’t leave me!”

      But Sam’s face disappeared from the sky. I started to hyperventilate; my hands turned ice-cold and my whole body began to shiver, a slow rumble at first that quickly morphed into full-on panic. My eyes clouded with tears.

      I tried to calm down. Maybe I could get myself out. I began to wiggle my fingers and then my toes. When I sat up and leaned forward, a sharp pain shot up my back. Hot tears dribbled down my cheeks. I wiggled my toes again and then raised each leg. It hurt to lift my right leg. My crying turned to silent sobs, the kind where your whole chest heaves in and out. Why had I ever signed up for this stupid conference or retreat or whatever it was called? I caught tears with my tongue.

      Then a branch snapped.

      My body froze, including my breathing. I tilted my head, listening for movement. Above me, enormous black birds flew in a circle. I untangled my arm from its branch so my fingers could sweep the ground for a stick, a rock, anything hard or heavy. All I could reach was dirt and more pinecones. It was as if the pinecones multiplied times ten every time I blinked. My only weapons were a pink cell phone with no service, a granola bar and a water bottle.

      Snap! Crack! The sounds drew closer.

      I reached inside my front pocket for my granola bar. Maybe I could throw it and buy myself some time.

      But from what? And, where?

      Pine needles and pinecones rained down all around me.

      I squinted into the wind, anxious to see what predator was moving toward me. The wind howled louder, messing with my mind. It was like I was being slowly surrounded. I began to picture a hungry pack of coyotes, or wolves. Or bears. Lots and lots of hungry bears...

      My heartbeat echoed all the way to my temples. Goose bumps snaked up my back. I reached inside my pocket for the water bottle. It was the heaviest thing I had on me and better than nothing.

      Snap, crack, snap!

      I lifted the water bottle over my head.

      And then a set of gray antlers appeared from behind a trunk, followed by a head.

      A deer—or maybe it was an elk—peeked at me with beady black eyes from between two pine trees. It lifted its long snout toward the sky, its nostrils sputtering. If not for its antlers, it would have blended into the tree trunk.

      “Oh, god.” I exhaled. I wondered whether to throw my water bottle at it. I wondered whether it was alone. Maybe I was about to be trampled by a stampede. Panicked, I inched back a fraction against the tree trunk. If I moved back far enough, the lower branches might hide me. But my whole body hurt when I moved even just a few inches. Instead of screaming at the animal and flailing my arms, I simply froze, watching the animal watch me.

      The elk lowered its antlers toward the dirt and moved forward. Straight for me.

      It took one step, then another, lumbering toward me like it had all the time in the world.

      Was this elk psycho? Shouldn’t it be afraid of me? But then, why would it be? It was as wide as a horse, maybe even bigger.

      Carefully, I brought my arm back, readying my water bottle.

      Snap, crack!

      More pine needles floated down from the sky.

      My head jerked right just as a flash of blue and black tumbled from above.

      A set of feet landed with a loud thump between me and the elk.

      Sam.

      For a big guy, he moved amazingly fast.

      Sam whistled, that loud kind mastered by jocks and gym teachers, his fingers spread in his mouth like a triangle.

      The elk’s ears sprang to attention like pop-up tents before it fled in the opposite direction, hooves clattering across the rock and then back up the mountain until the sounds disappeared into the wind.

      “Did you see that?” I screamed, gasping for breath. “I think it was going to attack me!”

      Sam bent over, placing his hands on his knees, breathing hard. Pine needles and brown leaves clung to his hair. He shook them from his head and they rained to the ground. Finally, he stood upright, wiping his hands together. “Elk don’t attack. He was just curious.”

      “You didn’t see its eyes!”

      Sam came closer, peering at me almost the same way as that elk had. “Are you okay?” His tone held more annoyance than concern.

      “Yes!” Tears built behind my eyes again, whether of relief or pain I wasn’t sure. “I mean, no.” I paused to catch my breath. “Did you bring help?”

      His dark eyes stretched wider. “You asked me not to leave you!”

      I swallowed, hard. “Yeah. Well. I meant—”

      “You mean I climbed down the side of this mountain for nothing?” He looked at his hands. They were red and scratched from branches and rocks. His jeans were dirty and ripped like mine at the knees.

      My mouth opened but no words came out. Frankly, I was a little touched that he had climbed down after me. And totally shocked, to be honest.

      From his back pocket, he pulled out a baseball cap. It was pink.

      My hand flew to my forehead. I wondered if my skin was still red and blotchy. Not a great time for vanity, but that’s the crazy thought that flashed through my head.

      He walked closer, still holding my hat. “So, are you okay or not?”

      “I’m...I’m not sure.” I began to wiggle my fingers and toes again. “My right leg stings. And my back hurts.”

      Sam knelt beside me. His hands, big as plates, pressed against my thighs and then ran up my arms, surprising me with a gentle touch.

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