Page 73 of Happiness for Beginners

But that’s when Jake started something I wouldn’t have expected. A military cadence.

We’d lurched into shaky motion along the trail, pushing and pulling in our different ways against the litter, bumbling and yanking and struggling, when Jake’s voice rang out so loud and strong it startled us into alignment.

As smooth and certain as any sergeant calling cadence you’ve ever seen in a movie, Jake just started up: “Left! Left! Left, right, left!”

And the guys, out of nowhere, went ahead and answered the call, repeating back on the beat. How did they know to do that?

Next, Jake launched into the “lyrics” of it, if that’s what you call them: “My back aches, my shoes too tight, I’m tossing-turning every night.”

And the boys all followed, not missing a step. As their voices fell into rhythm, their feet did, too.

Jake went back to another “left, right, left” verse, then continued on to the next line, which turned out to be the refrain: “I don’t know quite what to say. That girl just takes me all the way.”

At that, he glanced back at me, saw I wasn’t answering the call, and said, “You’re part of this unit, Helen-with-an-H.”

The boys were already answering. So I joined in, too.

He had us. It turned out to be a cadence that alternated between “left, right, left,” descriptions of how terrible life was, and that returning refrain about the girl in a syncopated rhythm that somehow made carrying Hugh’s dead weight through the forest feel almost like dancing.

I liked the verses about misery the best:

My car’s broke, my TV’s dead, I just woke up in a stranger’s bed.

My dog bites, my tires all flat, it just don’t get no worse than that.

My head’s bald, my lady’s gone, got nothing left but a dumb ol’ song.

I don’t know how standard the song was, or where Jake learned it, but after a bit he definitely started making up words to fit the day:

No lattes, no takeout food, we’ve only got this heavy dude.

My boots hurt, my blister’s sore, I just can’t take it anymore.

My pits stink, this trail is steep, why can’t the Rangers bring a Jeep?

I couldn’t imagine how Jake could do that. He did not exactly give off a military vibe. But I loved it. Was I still in physical despair? You bet. But did Jake somehow manage to make things a whole lot better? He really did.

Near the end, we woke Hugh, who blinked a few times, listened to us for a minute, and then announced, “I’m in Hell.”

“You don’t know the half of it, brother,” Mason said from right next to his head. “I’ve got the farts something fierce.”

“Jet propulsion,” Beckett said, and everybody—even Hugh—laughed a little.

“Oh, God, it hurts to laugh,” Hugh said, then. “Don’t say anything funny.”

“No fart jokes,” Beckett said, and Hugh laughed again.

“It’s either laugh,” one of the big guys said, “or cry.”

“Or neither,” Hugh suggested. “How about neither?”

***

Beckett was exactly right. We didn’t make it to the trailhead until three in the afternoon. For a minute, during Jake’s cadence, it looked like we might beat Beckett’s prediction and make it by two. But then we hit a slick patch of trail from a flash summer shower. The ground was drenched and each step we took slid partway downhill in the mud, more like working out on a StairMaster than walking. Halfway through that, just after pausing for lunch, we came to a river crossing. Rivers always swell during the day, as snow from the mountaintops melts in the warm summer air. This one was mid-thigh height on the boys—hip-height on me. It would have been tricky on our own, the icy currents pushing and tugging at our legs with every step, but it was even harder keeping Hugh’s litter high enough to stay clear of the water.

“That’s it, folks,” Beckett encouraged, as we worked our way across. “Let’s not add hypothermia to Hugh’s list of ailments.” It took twenty minutes to cross, and by the time we made it, the skin on my legs was bright red from the cold, and my shoulders—both—were cramping so badly they felt like fire.

On the other bank, we set Hugh down, awake, and I bent over at the waist to shake my arms around to loosen the tension. It didn’t work.

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