Page 24 of Clear Path

These photographs are only the beginning. Over the coming days, I’ll be documenting more sites along the trail where people and their stories are being erased in the name of progress. These new visual histories will be posted on my website and social media pages in real time.

To see the truth, we cannot look away.

—Aurora Westin

She forwarded several of the photos from her camera to her laptop and attached the best images of the window installation, as well as copies of each of the individuals photo hanging from her ceiling, and broadcast the post across her social media channels. Then she forwarded it to her small newsletter list; Evan Jeffries; theHeraldreporter who’d interviewed her; and all her professional contacts. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided not to delete Tripp and Lucas’s addresses from the email. Let them see what they’d tried to suppress.

Responses began flooding in immediately. But she didn’t pause to savor the moment. She needed to execute the rest of her plan to continue to document—and to experience, however briefly—displacement.

She would travel light, carrying only her camera and essentials. She grabbed her weatherproof messenger bag and began packing. She tossed her Nikon D850 with two lenses, extra batteries, memory cards, a small notebook, protein bars, a water bottle, a light rain jacket, a change of clothes, and basic toiletries into the bag. She almost left her phone on the charger as a statement, but she needed a way to post images as she traveled. So she grabbed it and added it to the bag along with a travel charger.

She took her wallet from her desk drawer and removed her driver’s license and three twenties, which she slipped into the messenger bag’s zippered pocket. Then she returned the wallet with the rest of her cash and all her credit cards to the drawer. To document displacement authentically, she needed to know how it felt to leave everything behind, even if only temporarily. The gesture felt theatrical, but she committed to it anyway.

She did a quick sweep of the apartment, trying to shake the feeling that she was forgetting something important. The exhibition was hanging. The statement was circulating. Her camera was packed. She had water and food. What else did she need?

The murmur of voices drifted up from the courtyard. She peered down and saw a small crowd forming, their necks craned as they gazed up at her window in the early-morning light. The rooftop deck across the square was filling with people trying to get a better view.

It was time to go. If she waited any longer, her plan to slip away unnoticed would be ruined.

She hoisted her bicycle over her shoulder and carried it down the back stairs, emerging into the alley behind Railroad Way. She mounted the seat and pedaled quickly down the hill, staying on side streets until she reached the trail access point at the other end of town, well away from the growing commotion around her impromptu exhibition.

The Great Allegheny Passage stretched out ahead of her like a ribbon, or maybe a promise.

15

Sadie slammed the stockroom door and dropped a pile of vests on the counter. Aaron’s back was to her, but she clocked the tension in his shoulders. She tried to hide her irritation, but she could tell by the way his eyes flicked toward her every time she cut open a box of merchandise with a little too much force or the way he stiffened when she banged the cash register closed too loudly that he knew she was pissed.

The fact that he registered her annoyance made her even more frustrated. She had every right to be mad. Didn’t she? Her anger abated when she answered her own rhetorical question: sure, but she was really mad at herself, not him.

Her relationship with Aaron was far from healthy. If she were being honest, it bordered on toxic. Every time they broke up, she promised herself this time it was for good. And every time, she took him back. Her friends pressed her for an explanation, but she couldn’t explain it to them because she didn’t understand it herself. Well, shesort ofunderstood it.

He made her laugh. He made her feel light and carefree and, she had to admit, sexy.

The youngest store manager in Outdoor Adventure Co-op history and on a clear upward trajectory, Sadie was, as a rule, the opposite of light and carefree. She was ambitious and focused and, just maybe, a tiny bit humorless. Aaron, in contrast, was friendly and easygoing but, at best, a mediocre hourly employee. And in her heart, she knew that even that assessment was too generous. Despite the fact that they’d been dating, sleeping together, and/or living together for most of his employment, he’d been on probation more than once. Inevitably, she was going to have to fire him someday. Still, she kept taking him back.

Their living arrangement didn’t help. During their breaks or breakups or whatever you wanted to call them, she would remind herself to be strong, to treat him just as a roommate and nothing more. Yet inevitably he’d show up at her bedroom door with a couple of craft IPAs and a pizza, suggesting a movie, and then the next thing she knew they’d be in a tangle of sheets.

None of this was in her plan. The plan was literal, not metaphorical. Sadie had mapped it out in a spreadsheet during her first year of college. She hadn’t come to Union Hill for some on-again off-again relationship with a stoner. She’d graduatedsumma cum laudewith a business degree and a plan to launch her own B corporation someday, an outdoor company committed to the public benefit. Working for OAC was a step in that plan.

And then she’d met Aaron. Despite his lack of ambition—or maybe because of it—he made her stomach do somersaults. So while the local mean girls thought she was jealous of Rory, they were wrong. She was disappointed in herself for her weakness. Ashamed of the way she took Aaron back so easily. All it took was a grin and a suggestion, and she brought him into her bed again—even though he was still, after all this time, mooning over Rory Westin. It was humiliating.

The display yesterday where he trotted over to her like a golden retriever with the newspaper had turned Sadie’s stomach. The only thing more embarrassing would have been if he’d actually carried it in his mouth.

Yes, Rory was a talented photographer. Good for her. And she was beautiful—a knockout. Sadie had eyes, she couldn’t deny the woman was stunning. And, she had to admit, Rory didn’t capitalize on her looks. She dressed in jeans and t-shirts and wore almost no makeup. Some days, Sadie was sure she hadn’t bothered to brush her hair. But despite all that, Aurora Westin was objectively gorgeous.

Sadie’s eyes flicked over to the full-length mirror mounted on the wall outside the dressing rooms. Fit, strong, with dewy olive skin, clear green eyes, and glossy brown hair, she was the picture of health and natural beauty. Sure, she was no supermodel. But she was pretty, smart, and independent. Frankly, she was out of Aaron’s league. But here they were. It was demoralizing.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Aaron turned to her. “Everything okay, babe?”

She mumbled a non-response. Eager to a fault to be liked, he left the pile of tents he was stickering with price tags and ambled over to her.

He dug his warm hands into her back and began massaging her tight shoulders. “You’re so tense.”

She felt herself melting under his touch even though she tried to resist. “I’m fine.”

“You really aren’t. Relax,” he purred in her ear as he rubbed her knotted muscles with firm strokes.

She exhaled, allowing herself to soften into his touch.

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