“I’m going to,” her friend assures her, digging in her fanny pack.
“Kat, for real, I can’t find my EpiPen, I thought I packed it. You have to do something.”
Pressing down on the nozzle, the aerosol shoots out. But when Meredith lets out a blood-curdling scream, I know something is very wrong. I’m certain she’s been stung, that she’s going into anaphylaxis, until Katherine falls to the ground behind her, dry-heaving.
“What’s happening?” Vanessa asks as Meredith runs in circles, her hands over her eyes. It isn’t until the wind blows the faintest scent of pepper and toxins towards me that I understand what’s happened.
“Bear spray,” I say, running over to help them.
Vanessa and Angie follow behind me as we rush to help them up, only to be intercepted by Tonya and Adrian.
“What the hell is going on here?” Tonya asks, dropping the metal detector.
I hand Tonya the bottle, and her eyes go wide. We both know that between the bear sighting yesterday and her informational pamphlets, this mishap is partly her fault. But neither of us mention it as we move the girls down the path towards the Activity Center.
“There’s an eye-washing station over here,” she instructs, as we guide Meredith towards the industrial spray unit.
“What about me?” Katherine wails, her eyes inflamed and puffy from the blowback as she cries.
“We only have one station,” Tonya says as she helps Meredith wash out her eyes.
“I got you,” Adrian says, running into the café. I expect him to come back with a bottle of water but instead he holds out a pint of vanilla ice cream. Scooping it out with his hands, he slathers it on Katherine’s eyes.
“Better?”
“No,” she cries, kneeling over and retching on the lawn, as milky liquid pools down her face.
“She needs to get in the shower, to get the oil off her skin,” I explain to Vanessa, hoping she can take her off my hands.
“Can you take me?” Katherine cries. And as much as I don’t want to see her in pain, I know that taking care of her like this will only blur the lines further.
“I’ve got her,” Vanessa offers, taking pity on me.
“Make sure to use cold water,” I say, remembering that’s all there is in our cabin. “If things don’t improve in an hour, then it might be a good idea to head to Urgent Care.”
Katherine wails again as Vanessa guides her down the path towards the Big Barn.
I consider going with them, but worry gnaws in my stomach. If wildflower-picking could go so haywire, could something worse be happening to Mira at rock climbing?
Grabbing my keys, I head to my Jeep and speed off the property.
21 Mira
It isn’t until I’m staring up Blackrock Ridge, with its sharp edges and towering peaks, that I realize I’ve made another error in judgment by agreeing to this excursion. It’s hard to say no when people are paying you to be agreeable, to provide a service, to smile and say “Of course, I’d love to,” even if that means riding in a tiny airplane piloted by the groom or taking photos in the middle of a three-day bluegrass festival or climbing a cliffside.
“Ready to saddle up?” Bo asks, handing me a helmet.
“I should probably stay on solid ground today,” I reason.
Although this trip might not reflect it, I do learn from my mistakes, and after yesterday’s fiasco, bringing my camera into another danger zone isn’t something I’m comfortable with.
“It’ll be fine,” Derrick says, strapping into his harness. “You came all the way out here, you might as well experience what Wyoming has to offer.”
“I can’t really climb with my camera bag,” I say, hoping the excuse will be enough to placate him. But Derrick seems to have an answer for that as well.
“Bo will look after it for you, right, man?”
“Yes, ma’am. It won’t leave my sight.” Bo holds out his arms as if he’s about to cradle a newborn baby. Even though I don’t have much faith in the man, I take off my bag and hand it over. It’s acaramel-honey color, the leather conditioned and smooth. With thick stitching and precise craftmanship, the piece should last a lifetime, or at least longer than the cheap bags I’m accustomed to.
