I wait.
He picks up three more stones and fires them off.
“We were so damn drunk. Sometimes, I’m not sure what even happened. Was it a bad memory or a fragment of a nightmare or an alcohol-induced hallucination? We hiked in. We set up. Campfire, dinner, beer. Then . . . everything went to shit. Yelling and screaming, sounds from the woods. Scott’s gone and Josh . . . Josh is so upset. And I know why except I don’t know why. It’s like a blurry movie reel, and the more I try to see, the more out of focus it gets.”
“When you first think about that night, what immediately pops into your head? How do you feel?”
“Terrified.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Get away. Get the hell out of the woods. Never look back.”
“And the others? Josh, Neil, and Scott?”
“Josh doesn’t speak of it. Neil and Scott are of the nothing-you-can-do-to-change-the-past school of thought. They’ve moved on the most.” Miggy pauses, smiles at something I don’t get. “Kind of.”
I switch gears. “How’d you meet Tim?”
“Freshman year at OSU. We were waiting outside a TA’s office, got to talking, learned we were both engineering students. Josh was my roommate. Tim was with Neil and Scott. We all started hanging out, given we had plenty of classes together. Junior year we rented an apartment together. Then, upon graduation, we all got a house in Beaverton. Dudeville, Tim called it. Home of Friday night beers, Saturday mayhem, Sunday recovery. God, those were good times.”
“What happened?”
“Life.” Miguel shrugs. “Promotions to more demanding jobs, casual dates turning into serious relationships. You can only be young and stupid for so long, though we certainly gave it our all.”
“One of you introduced Tim to his fiancée, right?”
“Neil. He worked with Latisha. She was in marketing.”
“Do you still see her?”
“The first year, sure. But it’s difficult, when the only thing you have in common is what you lost. She didn’t blame us. Not like Martin. She’ll tell you, if Tim had to . . . meet his end . . . out in the mountains doing what he loved best was the right way for him to go.”
“Why isn’t she here? I read she was a big hiker as well.”
“She’s pregnant.”
“She met someone? Good for her.”
“You mean good for her and Scott.”
I blink my eyes several times. “You mean . . .”
“Yep. They wed in March. Small ceremony. Tim’s parents didn’t attend. Neither did the rest of us.”
“How do you feel about—”
“I don’t.”
“What about Josh and Neil? Surely they have opinions about one of Tim’s friends marrying his former fiancée.”
“You should ask them.”
I can already read the answer on Miggy’s face, however. The union between Scott and Latisha isn’t a happy development for the rest of the crew. Which means: yet more tension in our group that isn’t really a group.
“What is your goal for this week?” I ask Miggy now.
“You mean, other than to find Tim’s remains and bring him home?”
“Do you want that?”
Miggy appears genuinely startled. “Aren’t I supposed to want that?”
“That’s not the question. You can want whatever you want. Just you and me here, and I won’t tell anyone.”
He pauses, remaining silent for so long I’m not sure he’s going to answer me. Then: “I want to never walk these mountains again. I want to no longer wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I want to stop thinking of my best friend and breaking down from the guilt. I want . . . to feel human again.”
He looks at me. “Is that even possible? If we succeed this week, is any of that finally going to happen?”
“For some people it does.”
“In other words, I’m shit out of luck.”
I smile, then state as gently as I can: “In my experience, you won’t ever feel the same. But eventually, you may find some things about the new normal that aren’t so bad. One day, you might even like what your life has become. Then you’ll know you have moved on, even if you didn’t realize it at the time.”
He tosses another frustrated pebble. “If only it was that simple.”
“It’s not really that complicated.”
“Don’t make me fucking hate you, too.”