I lay flat on my back, trying not to move. Like a gazelle that just noticed an approaching lion. I want to bury my face in a pillow or say “no” but am frozen in mute fear of facing abuse. He is fifteen years older and I feel vulnerable.
Moose, Dirt and Robbing a Train
This is when I saw the moose. He was a big moose, with a solid pair of antlers. He stepped back, hesitating, as I kept still, hoping he would not see me. But he did, and he charged. I pulled myself up on the roof rack, but he bruised my legs and stepped back again. I decided to climb on top of the roof until the moose left.
When it did, I looked behind me, where there was a cave opening with a chair in it. My older brother was sitting in that chair, quietly waiting until I was done doing what I did.
Ten Years of Travel
I’ve never been so filthy, wet, thirsty, hungry, lonely, happy or inspired. I was scared at times, but not too bad. I found out where all the cool people were hanging out; the ones I was always looking for at home. I lost all my shoes and lived barefoot for a long time. I cut my own hair, using my pocketknife. I bought a machete to compliment the 4-battery Maglite that I carried in my pack. I indulged in my ferocious appetite for books, deep conversation and exploring my boundaries.
Lost in the Desert
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