If You Can Read This

I came out in High School. My parents didn’t really understand it, however my Uncle Raul did. It was a quiet summer evening before my Sophomore year when he came over. After he explained my identity to my parents in terms that they could understand, he joined me on the front porch swing. He was from a different time, and from an entirely different part of the country where they still believe that a Conversion Camp had any chance in derailing someone from fully embracing themselves. Needless to say, after he had to go through the cruelty of those camps at 14 years of age, his Aunt — my grandmother — adopted him. He grew up with my mother like he was her actual brother. So, having him to explain it to my parents was a rare privilege that so few people get to experience. It was on that front porch swing that he explained to me what he believed was most important for people like us; love. The people before us went through so much for it, fought tooth and nail for it, and even experienced cruelty for it, so he explained that it’s almost a duty for us to find love. There was a catch. He said that love is something that takes so many different forms that it’s hard to pinpoint what it is. The only thing that we as humans can really do to figure it out is to rely on our intuition. That if it feels right, then it is most likely right. That conversation has been repeating on a never ending loop in my mind. An improvement, considering that the playlist used to be on repeat instead.

Parker’s car lays vacant near the entrance to the trail shaded with the canopy of pines above. We had agreed to meet at a quarter to noon on Saturday, but it seems that he has arrived early and gone off somewhere else in the trail. Upon closer inspection, I notice that there is a note which is encased in a wreath consisting of thin sinewy twigs and a bouquet of dried white flowers. The note reads:

If you can read this Soleil, then you’ve officially agreed to participate in The Kincaid Hunt, though you definitely did not know this was happening. The rules are as follows: You have until 1pm to find the other four notes that I have scattered along the trail. All you have to do is to follow the directions listed in this note to find the next note, then follow the directions on that note to find the next one. You get the gist. You’ll know that you’ve found the note instead of some random piece of paper because each one will be secured in a small wreath similar to this one. Keep all of the wreaths though. In the event that you don’t finish the hunt in the given time, I’ll begin making my way back the path and we’ll meet wherever you stopped. Don’t worry, there won’t be any punishments…unless you want one. That was a joke.

The first direction is this. Start walking the trail, soon you’ll come to a crossroads with one leading upwards and one leading to a lower path. Follow the path that you feel the most comfortable with.

“You clever little shit.” I mumble while tucking the first note into the hiking backpack that Colton had lent me. Hiking isn’t usually my thing at all. The singular thing that had changed my mind was the feeling of freedom that washed over me when I deleted the playlist a couple of nights ago. Though, a scavenger hunt is something that I wasn’t expecting at all today. This path seems easy, especially for a novice hiker such as myself. The ground is tampered down to form a stabilized path which is easy to walk on, the river at the bottom of the foothills that the trail is situated on provides an easy breeze that rustles through the dense thicket of trees. Soon enough, I come across a crossroads that he had described in the note. The path to the left looks as if it dips down while the path to the right looks as if it ascends towards the entrance, so I take the path on the left. Parker had told me before that this particular hiking path is one that hugs the slope of a hill with a river on the bottom. Once I finish following the path on the left, I notice that the path on the right intersects with it, essentially making them two separate paths with one unified end. A weathered wooden post juts out of the ground near the reconjoined path which has one of the wreaths tied around it with a piece of twine.

If you can read this Soleil, then it means that you’ve officially reached the second note. You’re probably wondering what the whole point of this is. Before I answer that though, time for a little biology lesson from yours truly. The wreath is made of incense cedar twigs, with mountain whitehorns. The two of these are native to Auburn, and they each represent something that I gathered from each of my interactions with you.This is cheesy, but I’ll share this for the sake of full disclosure. I went on this hike by myself yesterday. There was a lot of thinking that I was able to do during it. This scavenger hunt was a product of that hike, I gathered all of the materials I needed. I hope that I’ve piqued your curiosity now, if you want to figure out what each of these mean then you have to find the next wreath.

To second direction is this. As you continue on your walk, you will find yourself faced with an uphill climb. Don’t worry though, because there is a way around it. Just as the crossroads you passed just now, there is more than one way to continue on. You’ve got this.

The wreath looks flimsy, but a closer inspection reveals that it’s well made and almost identical to the first. I’ve really only known Parker for a few months, a person who claims that they have gathered enough information to dedicate metaphors would be a person that I would have ignored in the past, but Parker is someone altogether different than everyone else. So, I continue on.

It is not long until I come across the steep slope. A quick look around the immediate surroundings doesn’t reveal any obvious alternative routes which makes me decide to take the hard way up. The slope itself isn’t as aggrandized as I had thought it would be. There is just a more than average incline which demands the person climbing it to either demonstrate an astute show of balance or to have the sense to grip at the encroaching tree branches. A breathtaking view of the foothills greets me once I make it to the top of the slope. The hills are blanketed by a cover of a mix of evergreens and baring decidious trees which are bathed underneath a calmly burning autumn sun. Another wreathe leans against a boulder that is teetering on the edge of the path, only being held up by an overreaching root system.

If you can read this Soleil, then I must apologize to you. The directions on the previous note were a fib. There were no other ways around the slope but if you are indeed reading this, then it stands as further proof of the fact that you are indeed much like calocedrus decurrens, the incense cedar. An incense cedar is at first unassuming, just another tree amongst the myriads of other trees in its surroundings to the untrained eye. However, to those who have an acute sense of things, the incense cedar is easily one of the most interesting trees in the forest. They are unyielding to devastation, resilient, and versatile. Much like you. You’ve shown me that much in how you allowed me to take you on that dinner even though you learned something disheartening just an hour before. Actually, you’ll notice that the boulder that supported this note is being supported by a root system. The tree that the root system belongs to is an incense cedar.

The third direction is this. You’re going to begin descending deeper into the trail now. It’s going to be a bit daunting. Just stick to the trail and you’ll be fine. I mean, you’re always fine. In both senses of the word.

I check the time on my phone, just a little bit over thirty minutes has passed since I started this hike. With a newly found spring in my step, I venture forward, determined to finish his little challenge. Though I do admit that it would be less of a challenge if I filled the hydration pack in Colton’s hiking bag with an energy drink instead of water. The extreme accuracy of his directions leads me to believe that this is a hiking path that he frequents often; like this must be his version of the taqueria I frequent, albeit with less seasoned beef. The path begins to take on a winding characteristic, as I make my way down the foothill, the more it winds. It becomes nearly erratic to the point that I nearly miss the fourth wreathe which is laid upon a bare shrub.

If you can read this Soleil, then you’re almost there and I’m immensely happy that you stuck through. Time for another biology lesson. The ceanothus cordulatus, otherwise known as the mountain whitehorn, is crucial for the survival of an ecosystem following a disaster like a forest fire due to it’s long nitrogen sustainability. My observation is this, not only are you as resilient as the incense cedar, but you find a way to help the people around you after something disastrous has happened to them, even if you may not realize it. The friendship between you and Colton is evidence enough of that. Perhaps it’s my own cowardice, but I didn’t want to tell you in person that I was so painfully close to loving Emilia that it nearly destroyed me when she told me that she wanted to end things between us. I went to the party with the intention of charming Emilia back into my arms, but instead I found you. Allow me to say that the way you introduced yourself changed my mind. Again, you sustain those around you after a disaster, even if you don’t know it.

The fourth and last direction is this. You don’t have much further to go. Just follow the trail and you’ll come across a stone bridge. I’ll be there.

Giddiness pools in my throat, weakening my knees. Love notes and wreaths arranged by a biologist is a step above a playlist designed to keep someone waiting around. There is one last turn in the winding path, just beyond the path I see the bridge and Parker leaning against the capstones and tossing pebbles into the water. He seems to be fully entranced by the way the pebbles hit the surface of the river so he doesn’t notice me approach him.

I mime the mannerisms of someone searching, “Excuse me, I’m supposed to be looking for a guy who I think tricked me on going on a hike, and he’s supposed to have a note for me or something?”

Parker beams at me. “You made great time! Not that I was at all worried that I would have to go search for you. Here’s your last note, and your wreath.” He places the wreathe on top of my head like a flower crown after handing me a smaller note.

The note unfurls between my fingers which contains a single word. Want.

“Want?”

“Do you have the other wreaths?”

“Yeah of course.” I swivel the backpack around to retrieve the wreathes.

“I’ll take those for just a second.” He takes the wreathes and the note from me, “What you didn’t know is that the rest of the fifth note has been with you this entire time. This entire thing was a metaphor, and maybe a scheme for you to go on your first hike.” One by one, he extracts a small piece of paper hidden in the woven twine of each wreathe. In one fluid motion, he reveals an adhesive strip from his pocket and tapes the notes together. “There you go, you can read this aloud or quietly, but I’d prefer it if you read it silently.”

Want to make this official?

Parker takes my hands after I gently fold the note and gazes into my eyes with a distinct intentional smolder, “I don’t really believe in the whole bouquet of flowers thing, so I figured that a flower crown made with preserved botanical samples are a step up. So how about it, you want to make this official?”

“Yes. Absolutely I do.” I squeak in surprise because he pulls me into an embrace. I allow my head to be buried in the space between his neck and chest, nodding rapidly into his sun warmed skin. A thought comes across my mind and I pull away, “This might seem really selfish of me to do, especially after what just happened, but is it okay if I take a selfie of us and post it?”

“Yeah of course, why would it be selfish of you to do so?”

“Because my ex called me last night, and I want him to experience the same thing I did when I saw his picture.”

He brazenly responds, “Heh, incense cedar. Why not? Let’s show that motherfucker that you’ve moved on to someone who looks like him, but is so much better than him.”

The camera clicks. The river disappearing with the bend of the land with the vibrant thicket in the background reflects the same vivacious energy that is found in the foreground: Parker’s knowing smirk andmy twinkling eyes. The wreathe nestled atop my head like a flower crown, and like the cedar twigs intertwining the flowers, Parker’s arm is protectively wrapped around me as if he were nonverbally communicating this one’s mine now. An appropriate filter is applied to the photograph, and I post it with with a simple heart emoji.

“You keep that wreathe since that’s the one that’s actually made with preserved specimens, but these ones need to go back out to nature. You wanna help me toss these into the river?”

He and I each take two of the wreaths and toss them into the rushing waters below the bridge, watching in a semblance of bliss that I have not felt in quite some time as they float away.

***

We can do our best to pretend that we didn’t see something we shouldn’t have, but it always persists. The thing is that, whatever we did see gets ingrained into our brain cells like fossil embedded into sedimentary rocks. The unfamiliar gym bag with an all too familiar brown apron thrown aside carelessly to the middle of our living room continues to reinforce the sight of Colton locking lips with my nearly naked green-haired co-worker through Colton’s partially opened bedroom door, as if the brown apron were continually teasing the fact that I have seen something that was probably not meant to be seen. I sneak into my room in as calm as a manner as I can muster to secure the flower crown on a prominent place on my accessories shelf. Colton had gone out the night before. I was under the assumption that he had driven to meet up with Emilia, though it now occurs to me that he had gone to Danilo’s club. The circumstances in which that sequence of events might have occured eludes and confounds me. I guess I should be thankful that Parker had been called back to his campus because an experiment had gone awry during our hike, to think that our new relationship is entirely hinged on a now compromised dynamic brings something akin to wrath to nip at my spine.

Headphones seem to be the proper recourse to avoid hearing whatever bullshit may be happening on the other side of the wall. The increasingly energetic songs seem to arise a proportional rise in my annoyance, which tempt me into making an impulsive decision but I quell it with the decision to take a nap.

The sound of thundering laughter pierces through the walls, jolting me awake. My eyes ache at the harsh luminosity of the street light shining through my window pane leaving me to blindly stumble out into the hallway. A dryness in my throat demands to be satiated, so I head straight to the fridge to fetch a glass of water. Relief radiates through when the realization that it is only me and Colton in the apartment settles. He is too enthralled with a TV show that he doesn’t take notice of my presence, it takes the sound of ice cubes clinking in the glass to make him aware.

I take a sip and clear my throat. “I came home early, and no you don’t have to worry. I put in earphones to take a nap so I wouldn’t have to hear your date with Emilia.”

His eyes flicker between me and the floor, “Oh, yeah, thanks for that. Wouldn’t want you sitting through that. Actually,” he begins stuttering until he finds the right words to formulate a distantly coherent lie, “yeah, you uh, just missed her. Yeah, that. She had to head back to, the you know, the place with the pool—the sorority.”

A single unspoken word rings through the empty space between us. Liar.

He scrambles to his feet and leans across the kitchen peninsula, “Tell me about your date with Parker, you guys went on a hike right? That must have been something to see you hiking, did you trip or something? Did he catch you?” He babbles on while his fingers rhythmically tap on the fake marble.

“Why are you nervous?” I fake an inquisitive look, “if you’re that curious about what happened, then let me just tell you before you pop a vein. He and I are officially a thing.”

“Mm.” A rather diminished reaction, which could just possibly be a result from him stifling a sigh of relief.

I set the glass down on the counter, “That was a super muted response, I thought you would be jumping up and down, making the people downstairs call the management on us again.”

He takes a deep breath before forcing a smile, “Of course I’m happy for you. I’m actually relieved more than anything else. You can finally delete that stupid playlist.”

A coy smile tugs my lips upward, “It ceased to exist the night he and I went to dinner.”

“So no more random guys, no more listening to that pathetic shit, and finally no more Matthew.”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet. It seemed like he wanted to resume talking to me, he called me a few nights ago. The entire conversation was weird, but at the end of it all, it felt like he wanted to resume whatever remnants of a friendship remained between us.” I stifle a sigh of disgust and finish my glass of water. Colton scoffs, and returns to his show.