Thoughts From A Chair by Jennifer Nordberg
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"Lucky"

  "How did I get here?" Denny thought groggily. "What happened? Kit? Mom?" 
He was mumbling aloud. His head had hit a sharp rock and was bleeding. He
was fading in and out of consciousness and it was nearing sunset. It was going 
to get cold soon.
  When he awoke again, it was almost dark. He was thinking clearer now. He 
knew he was in trouble, there was blood coming from his left ear. He was sitting 
on a very narrow ledge only about three and one-half feet wide on a nearly 
vertical wall, God only knew how high up. One hundred feet, two hundred feet, 
maybe even higher above the canyon floor? It was cold too. He figured it was 
about eight-forty P.M., and around 45 degrees. Thank goodness he had worn
his fleece jacket instead of his windbreaker.
  Now, back to what had brought him here? He was trying to remember. He 
recalled leaving the apartment that morning, kissing his sleeping wife good bye, 
giving the cat a rub for luck as usual. He grabbed his big Paul Bunyan boots as 
she called them, since he wore a size 14. He had shouldered his backpack 
loaded with snacks and drinks, tissues, maps, that dumb foil-looking "thermal" 
blanket his wife had insisted upon, Swiss army knife, first aid kit, a few dollars, 
his ID, a good flashlight, and the usual necessities. He had driven to his favorite 
hiking place, the granite hills upstate. It had rained for five days in a row, but 
Denny had never let a little wet weather stop him.
  He parked the car in the parking lot and headed into the hills for an all day 
hike. Denny had told his wife and informed the ranger as he entered the park 
that he 
intended to climb Mount Bobcat and circle around back, returning to his car by 
around ten P.M. The ranger advised him that the steep rocks were a bit slippery, 
but Denny wasn't worried. He just smiled and waved. He found himself 
mimicking that action now, even though no one was there to see it. Smile and 
wave, smile and wave. Wheee. Denny was unconscious now.
  They say it is not the animal you see that you run into. It's the one behind it. That 
not only applies to deer, Denny found that it also applies to small, furry rodents. 
When he tried to avoid stepping on a mouse running across a large, wet, mossy 
slab of granite, he missed the one he saw and stepped right on the one behind it.
It sent him sliding down the slope and over the edge, hitting his head on a sharp 
rock, narrowly missing a smooth one. After that, he tumbled to the ledge where 
he lay still for a long while.
  When he woke, it was dark, about ten-twenty P.M. There was blood running 
down his head from a cut on his scalp above his forehead. He knew he had better 
not fall asleep again. It was really getting cold and he knew he needed to do 
something to keep warm until either help arrived (ha, ha) or the sun came up. 
Trying to stay warm and survive the night, he tried to pull his long legs to his body. 
This was not so easy, since he had stiffened from lying there so long, plus he stood 
six-foot, five-inches. At least nothing was broken as far as he could tell.
  He felt around and found his backpack. He still had his food and water, thank 
God. He found a bottle of water and took a sip. Well, that stayed down. He felt 
dizzy, and dug around for something to nibble on. Finally, he found a cereal bar. 
It was squished flat, but he did not care. He took a small bite, tried to chew and 
then realized that he must have broken a molar as well. He would just have to use 
the other side. That worked out better.
  After eating, Denny thought about trying to stay awake. He would need to do 
something to keep from falling asleep or just plain falling. Finding an uncomfortable 
position would probably do it best. He positioned a fist-sized rock under his rear 
to keep him from getting too comfy, then he began singing songs. He sang anything 
he could think of. Drinking songs, Christmas carols, commercials, rock songs, 
Bible school songs, whatever came to mind. He hoped that the singing would 
either keep him awake, or someone would hear the awful noise he was making 
and find him. He knew no one would be looking for him until morning. He hoped 
to last that long.
  His vision was blurry and he had a really bad headache. His back was sore, too, 
and it was hard to find a comfortable position to sit in without causing a spasm. He 
figured theses were probably not the worst of his problems at the moment. What
was Kit thinking? It was dark now. Did she even know he was late getting home?
  Suddenly, he remembered the goofy "foil" blanket that she had made him bring 
with. He dug into his pack and found it. He unfolded it and wrapped it around 
himself. He felt pretty foolish, but figured at the very least if he froze to death, he 
would be easy enough to find, all wrapped up like a burrito from the taco place. 
Surprisingly, it made him feel a bit warmer.
  He took another small bite of the cereal bar. The food was staying down. He 
tried a sip of water, as well. The broken molar screamed in protest. So did Denny. 
An owl in a nearby white pine turned its head and flew off in the opposite direction. 
He checked his watch. It was nearly one A.M. Only four more hours until sunrise. 
He hoped to make it that long. All he had to do was stay awake, do not fall, do 
not die, do not freeze. In any order. 
  Denny though about his wife. Was she thinking about him? Had she even 
reported him missing yet? She must have. He hoped so. He was supposed to be 
home at least three hours ago. It was possible that they may not be able to search 
until morning, though.
  Denny tried thinking of things to do to stay awake and not depress himself. He
sang some more. "The Name Game," sitcom theme songs, whatever came to mind.
When he could think of no more songs, he started talking to God.

~~~~~~

  "Dear God," Denny began as he tried to sit up, "I am alone out here, in my burrito 
blanket. I don't know who I will see next, but it may be You. Please do not judge
me too harshly. Those times when I swore, well, I am sorry. I knew better."
  "You know I never cheated on Kit, never even looked at those college girls 
across the back yard in their tight shorts and skimpy tops, bare legs all tan and…
well, O.K., so I looked a little. I am sorry I did that.
  "I tried to be honest. I did not get to church every Sunday, but I remembered
those Commandment things. Remember when I found that wallet and I gave it 
back to its owner, money and all, even though everyone said, "Keep the money, 
you dope." But I just couldn't. It did not feel right."
  Denny was mumbling the words to himself. His body was shaking hard due to the 
freezing temperatures. "And God, " he continued, "if I do not get to see Kit again, 
take care of her. Help her get over losing me and let her love someone else. See  
that she does not go through life alone. She is too young to spend it by herself." He 
finished with Psalms 23 and said "Amen", since that was what he could remember 
from Sunday school.
  Denny tilted his head back and looked up at the stars. He was still very dizzy, 
especially if he tilted his head at all. He closed his eyes for just a moment.
  At first, he thought someone had turned on the dining room lights at his parents 
house using the dimmer switch. When he opened his eyes, he saw a light show the 
likes of which he had not viewed since he and Kit were on their honeymoon in 
Alaska.
  The northern lights blazed across the sky before him in a performance that 
seemed to have been choreographed just for him. The vertical streaks and 
horizontal bands bounced and snaked across the sky in soft hues of pink, green, 
yellow, azure, violet and white. They danced and swirled, forming "esses" and then 
reverse "esses". As they faded away in one place, they surge in another until they 
set the heavens on fire. Denny watched with quiet reverence. The aurora always 
had that effect on him, except for an occasional whisper of "Wow."
  Eventually, the light show ended. It made him feel sad that Kit missed it.

~~~~~~~

  Meanwhile, in a second-floor walk-up, an average-looking woman with brown 
hair and a nice figure lay sleeping in a bed set up under the skylight of the 
apartment she shared with her husband and an eighteen-pound Seal Point Siamese 
cat. She started to stir, rolling from her stomach to her side, then to her back. She 
flung her pillow to the floor. The cat waddled for cover under the bed. The woman 
swung her legs over the side and walked to the closet, opened the door and 
reached in for a coat that only she could see. She brought it back to the bed, lay it
out smoothly and began to look for a stain. This was always the part where Denny 
would wake up and tell her to lay down and go to sleep, and that she was 
sleepwalking. She would do it. She always did this sort of thing when she was 
feeling really stressed. Except now Denny was not here to get her back to bed.
  Kit finally woke up on her own, wondering briefly why she thought there was a 
coat on her lap. Then she remembered that she would do strange things when she 
sleepwalked. She looked over at Denny's side expecting to see him and was 
dismayed to find he was not home yet.

~~~~~~~

  Denny checked his watch. He was shivering. Now it was almost four A.M. Two 
more hours until sunrise. He prayed a hiker would come along or a plane would 
fly over. Would anyone be looking for him?
  Meanwhile, on the road, a little red Nissan was speeding towards Grande 
National Forest and Mount Bobcat. Behind the wheel was an average-looking 
brunette with glasses that kept slipping down her nose. She was doing eighty-five 
miles per hour and did not care if the Highway Patrol came after her with 
everything they had. She was going to find him because she just "knew" there was 
trouble. She could not explain it. It woke her from her sleep like someone shook 
her hard. There was something wrong with Denny, and she needed to find him.
  When she got to the park entrance, it was around four-fifteen A.M. The ranger
at the gate informed her that the park was closed. She informed the him that she
did not care. She could see her husband's car in the lot, why was it still there when
he had told the ranger he would be leaving before the end of the day, and why had
no one gone looking for him? The ranger was still stammering for an answer when
Kit left him choking on dust as she spun out heading into the parking lot.
  Kit parked the car, grabbed her flashlight, first aid kit and cell phone, and took
off up the marked trail. The ranger called the main station to report that some 
crazy lady had come looking for her "lost husband" and took off up the trail. He 
asked if he should pursue? The station informed him to wait until back up came.
  The Ranger waited approximately thirty seconds, then grabbed his flashlight, left 
a note saying which trail and direction they had gone, and locked up the station 
house. Heading along the trail, he only hoped he could catch up with the lady 
before she did something dangerous.
  Kit carefully picked her way up the trail. She had not worn the right shoes for 
this, but she was in a bit of a hurry. Fortunately, the trail was fairly well marked. 
There were very few forks and not much steep up-hill climbing. Thank God 
Denny chose such wimpy trails, she thought.
  When she came to a large, open plateau of granite, she sat down to catch her 
breath. It was slightly sloped down toward the edge here, and the view was 
probably spectacular, she imagined. The sun was just turning the sky from inky 
blackness to a very deep purple-blue.
  Where was Denny? She was sure he was here somewhere. She felt it inside
her, down deep. She knew he was hurt, too. She had to find him. He was in 
trouble.
  The sun was finally peaking above the horizon. Soon the trees would be 
adorned in all their colorful attire for another day. It was almost four forty-five 
A.M. The sun would be up in just minutes.

~~~~~~~

  Kit bowed her head asking God for something, anything that would lead her to 
Denny, no matter what had happened to him. She asked for strength to deal with 
whatever she found and what may come. That was when she noticed the smudge. 
It was just a small smudge. A skid mark, really. It was reddish-brown, about a 
foot long, leading down the slope of the rocky surface. Whatever had made the 
smudge was gone, eaten by a crow, probably. But there was a partial boot print 
in the reddish-brownish smudge. It was a big boot print, too. Denny had big feet.
He wore a size 14. Kit followed the smudge down the rock. Where it ended she 
could see scuff marks on the hard, granite surface, as if someone had slid along 
the rock here.
  Kit lay down on her stomach and carefully slid as close to the edge as she dared. 
When she was about three feet away from the edge, she looked down. Whoa, 
baby! That was a LONG way down! It made her queasy to think of going over 
that without a safety rope. She hoped he wasn't really down there. Kit inched a 
little further. Stretching her neck a bit more, she could see the lip of a ledge jutting 
out midway down the cliff. Scooting another half-inch she saw a bit of color. A 
jacket? A blanket? Could it be that stupid "burrito" blanket she made him pack in 
the hiking pack? Kit looked closer. It sure looked like it, but it was a long way 
down and hard to tell from here. Then she saw something move from beneath it.
  It was a boot. She knew that boot that she knew well. She had tripped over that 
boot plenty of times. It was Denny's. How many times had she yelled at him to get 
them out of the doorway? She vowed to God right there that if he made it out of 
this, she would never yell at him for that again. Thank you God, for those big, old 
boots.
  Kit was not sure how to let Denny know she was there. She was afraid that if she
startled him, he might fall. What if he was sick? She decided to try pebbles. It was 
something she used to do when he would be busy doing yard work and ignoring 
her on a Saturday afternoon. She would toss pebbles at him until he finally paid 
attention to her.
  Kit reached over and gathered a handful of small stones and pebbles and began 
to toss them one or two at a time down onto the ledge where Denny was laying.
At first, he did not move. Kit was afraid he might be dead, but then the big foot 
shifted a little. She tossed a couple more pebbles down. They landed near the 
boot. Nothing. She dropped a small handful. The foot wiggled a bit. Finally, she 
dropped a rock about the size of an egg. It landed square on his ankle.
  "Ouch!" A noticeably weaker, yet familiar, wonderful voice called out. Kit yelled 
back, "Denny, I love you! Someone is on the way! Don't move, I am getting help!"
  "How did you ever find me? I love you too. I hurt my head the worst, but it is 
feeling better today. I slipped on a mouse, I think." Denny replied weakly.
  Kit yelled back, "Denny, no more talk. I am going to call for help. Someone 
should be here soon."
  The park ranger who had been chasing Kit from the parking lot finally caught up 
with her. He was breathless, red-faced and looked like he may have a massive 
heart attack at any moment.
  "All right, lady, stop. Just, please stop." He wheezed, then wheezed some more. 
"What in the world are you doing?"
  She handed her cell phone to the ranger and asked him to call for whatever 
emergency help they needed to rescue someone who had fallen over a cliff. She 
told him that her husband was down there on a ledge and needed medical help
right away.
  Within an hour, a rescue helicopter swooped in, lowering a long basket to the 
ledge. It raised the basket back up, carrying on board one sore, hungry, bruised, 
slightly scraped up guy with a bad headache.

~~~~~~

  After a few days in the hospital, Denny was released. He and Kit tried to ignore 
the fanfare and instant celebrity that came with their story. Soon all the notoriety 
died down and they returned to their regular lives.
  Kit would always remember what she nearly lost that day; a man who loved and 
supported her through good times and bad. Even when she made mistakes, he 
was not judging or condemning her.
  Denny would always remember what he found that day too. A woman who 
would not give up on him, no matter what. A wife who would get up in the dark 
of night to find him wherever he was, and not quit until he was home. He knew
her love for him was unbound, free to simply ask for. He knew she would be 
there for him always, because of that, he knew he was more than just "lucky"

by Jennifer Nordberg      copyright 2003

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