Page 34 of Choose Us
“Fine. When we’re lost it’ll be your fault this time.” Brooke spun around and stomped back past me witha vengeance.
“We’re already lost!” I yelled.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The shades of greenery turned darker as we made another right turn. Our logic was simple: don’t turn the same direction more than twice in a row. It wasn’t bulletproof, but we figured it would stop us going aroundin a circle.
We were high above Lake Chuzenjiko. The views were spectacular. Unfortunately, they were shrouded by the uncertainty of the situation. We’d barely spoken a word to each other since I started walking barefoot, which felt like a long time ago. Surprisingly, my feet had become numb to the rocky pathways. I doubted I’d be able to walk the following day, but making it out alive was my main concern.
Only two hikers passed us, one didn’t speak a word of English, and the other ran with headphones. We tried to flag him down like hitchhikers, but he completely ignored us. Brooke understood Japanese to a degree, but not enough to converse effectively with the older gentleman we encountered. He spoke in a completely different dialect than she was used to. He did however make a triangular sign with his hands; we weren’t sure if that meantwarning or—
“Tent!” I yelled.
Brooke looked up.
“Brooke look over there—a campsite.”
We practically launched ourselves down the slope towards the sign that read,Shobugahama Camping Site.
The campground sat on the edge of Lake Chuzenjiko, and the best news, it was open and bustling with campers.
“Thank god! I’m sure someone here can tell us how to get back.” I sighed. Relief washed over me.
A middle-aged man with a goatee and a waterproof cap approached us. He looked friendly, and by the looks of his sweat-sodden outfit he’d been hiking all day too. He glanced down at my feet, which were now filthy and sore.
“English?” He asked.
Was it that obvious?
I nodded. He bowed politely. “Welcome, do you have a reservation?”
“No, we’re actually lost, and we need help finding our way back to our car,” I said.
“Where is your car?” he asked.
“Somewhere near Nikko station,” Brooke answered.
He wiped his forehead and stood with his hand on his hip contemplating something.
“There is a bus back to Nikko station.” My face lit up. “...but they have stopped running for the night. The next one leaves at 8:30 a.m.” My hopes were shatteredonce again.
“Oh. Is there no other way to get back?” Brooke asked.
“You could walk,” he suggested, “...but it will take you approximatelyfive hours.”
“Oh.” I wanted to cry.
“I don’t think you can walk five hours with no shoes.” He glanced at my feet once again; now I was self-conscious.
The man pointed to a small wooden hut at the other side of thecampground.
“If you go to the shop, maybe they can provide you with a tent for the night... andsome socks.”
“Thank you.”
“Doitashimashite.” He bowed again and continued towards the lake.
“You’re welcome?” I looked at Brooketo clarify.
