Page 11 of Between Hello and Goodbye

Chapter Two

A day and a half after my pep talk from Silas, I was in the lush green forests of Kauai, walking the Ho’opi’i Falls Trail. There was a beautiful waterfall midway through the two-mile hike, and it ended with another larger waterfall that fed into a beautiful pool. I’d learned immediately that they didn’t call Kauai “the Garden Isle” for nothing. It rained constantly and the trail was slick from a recent deluge.

I hated mud.

Unless I was paying someone to smear it on my skin in an expensive spa, no thanks. Now, my legs were covered to the knees, and mud squelched between my toes. I cursed the makers of my allegedly “all terrain” sandals. Instead of the serene, self-explorative start to my trip, I’d spent my time slipping and sliding over rocks and tree roots. But I turned a fallen branch into a walking stick and heroically persevered.

Finally, the sound of rushing water from the second of the two waterfalls could be heard through the forest ahead.

“Just breathe. Almost there,” I told myself, then let out a squeal as my feet slipped in different directions like a newborn deer. I landed with a hard thud on my ass, mud splattering all over my designer athletic pants. “Dammit.”

I was about to call it quits, but from my lowered vantage, I could see the waterfall through a part in the trees. It poured into a large, rock-strewn pool where other visitors were swimming or having picnics on the sun-drenched boulders. Quitting now would be silly. I’d still have the two-mile return trip and no selfies to show for it.

I hauled myself to my feet and picked my way carefully down the trail. I was nearly there; only one more hurdle awaited—a short drop to the ground from a rocky outcropping, then the waterfall. I sat down on the ledge and scooted off.

It was only a three-foot drop, but the rocks were slick, and my “hiking” sandals were coated with mud. I hopped down and a yelp escaped me as my right foot slipped and then bent sideways in a manner that no human ankle was meant to bend.

I hit the ground with pain flaring around my foot, then shooting up my leg. Mild shock constricted my lungs and I sat for a few agonized moments in the throbbing ache and tried not to cry. Finally, I sucked in a deep breath and assessed the damage with trembling fingers. My ankle, naked but for the Velcro sandal straps, already looked as if it were pregnant with a golf ball, the skin stretched and shiny.

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no.”

“Are you okay?”

A middle-aged dad who looked like Rob Reiner picked his way from the pool toward me. Behind him, two tween boys were splashing each other in front of the Falls.

“I…I don’t know,” I said through trembling lips. “It hurts.”

“I’d say so. What can I do?”

Lying injured on the ground in the middle of a rainforest triggered a terrible sense of helplessness, inching toward panic. “I have to get out of here. Help me up?”

“You sure? Maybe you should rest.”

“No, I have to get off the ground.”

The guy helped me to stand, and I let out a cry as I nearly slipped again. Rob Reiner caught me, saving me from another tumble. I repaid him by covering his khaki shorts with mud.

“Whoa, hey. I got you.”

I pressed my lips together, willing the tears to back down. My ankle throbbed. I glanced up the way I had come and exhaled a shaky whisper, “Impossible.”

“I think you should sit down,” the man said. “Are you here with someone? Who can I call?”

“No one, I’m here alone. God, this was so stupid…”

“You’re going to be okay.”

Rob Reiner 2.0 gently helped me to hop toward a chair-level rock, each movement creating a deeper throb in my ankle. I sank onto the stone and wished longingly for Silas. He’d jump in one of his private jets to rescue me.

…and be here in about six hours.

With shaking hands, I pulled my phone out of my mud-splattered backpack. No reception.

The guy rubbed his salt-and-pepper beard. “You’re not going to have bars down here. I’ll climb up to a higher elevation and call emergency services.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” I jabbed at my phone. “I’m sure it’ll come in…”

“Wouldn’t count on it.” He smiled kindly at me. “Be right back.”