Two Truths and a Lie

The Greatest Fall
I walked into the gym in my blue camo pants and a pink tank top, long dark ponytail swishing behind me. I surveyed the large room, ceilings extending 25 feet up from the ground, all covered in different shaped and colored blob-like hand holds. Ropes ran from floor to ceiling and back again, and I watched in amazement as climbers crept like spiders up the wall… with such agility and precision. I watched as one of them reached a long hand towards a small hold above it’s head, other legs and arms straining against the weight of gravity. It went for the hold, and stuck it for a moment, but slipped. I watched the man fall and gasped, but just as I thought it was over for him, the rope went taught and his partner, belaying him from the ground, caught him.
My Uncle Mike and I signed in along with my brothers, my two cousins, and my aunt, and together we advanced towards the nearest picnic bench. I remember thinking how funny it was to see a picnic table inside, but then again, how often do you see a rock wall inside? We donned our shoes and harnesses, and together walked towards one of the easier walls. I stepped over the raised wooden border separating the concrete floor from the gravel-padded floors beneath the walls.
After trying a few walls and watching my brothers climb them with just as much ease, I decided I had to show them up by doing something a little more challenging. I asked my uncle to point something out and if he would belay me, and he obliged. I tied in to another wall, and he got his belay ready.
“Belay ready?” I asked
“On belay,” he responded.
“Climbing,” I told him.
“Climb away,”… and I was off.
About two thirds of the way up the wall, my arms started getting a little shaky. I was straining to hold onto the small holds with the very tips of my fingers, but they hurt. My toes hurt from being jammed into the small, pointed shoes, and I looked down to my uncle. I saw the top of his head, way far down. He looked so small! Then I realized how far up I was, and that I wouldn’t be able to reach the top without falling. Remembering seeing the man fall off the other wall, I pictured that happening to me, and panicked. I asked my uncle to let me down, I couldn’t make it. He just looked up at me and shook his head, shifting his weight to a more comfortable position. I told him again, I wanted to come down. I was tired. He said, “No! Don’t be such a baby,” and turned away. I got angry at that point, and started climbing again. I pulled and pushed myself upwards with all the strength I had left, my hands and arms shaking from the effort. One hold away and I would be at the top.
At last! Victory! I looked down to see my uncle smiling at me. He told me to sit back, and he’d let me down. I did, and he let me down slowly as I kicked off the wall. About five feet down, he let go. I fell towards the ground, still thinking about the spidery man on the other wall. Would Uncle Mike catch me? I remember hitting the ground with my feet and my hands, the belay catching just in time to stop the majority of my weight from crushing my arms. I stood up shakily, hearing my uncle’s laughter, and picked the gravel out of my hands. I untied myself, and thought that never again would I let someone belay me.



Germany
I sat in the restaurant staring at my swan-shaped baked potato. Everyone around me was laughing and having a good time, and completely ignoring me. My cousin Victoria had come along with us for dinner, and she had seemed to replace me. She was talking to my father in German, and joking about his parents, both her and my grandparents, whom I had never met because they refused to see my family because we aren’t Aryan. Atleast not us kids and my mother. I decided to leave.
“I’m going to go on a walk… to take pictures,” I told them.
“All right,” smiled my mother, merely glancing at me before turning back to the conversation.
The clock tower tolled nine o’clock as I left the restaurant, and I set of in the first direction I saw. Any way I looked there were shops, because we were in the shopping and touristy part of Munich. I walked in search of something interesting until the bell tolled 10:30. I glanced up to find my bearings, and realized I had no idea where I had gotten myself. I scanned up and down the streets, but there was not a soul in sight. Figures, it being ten thirty and all the shops having been closed for atleast two hours already. I read a few street signs as I walked down the road, trying to recognize: Freidrichstraße, König Straße, Bismarkstraße, Branitzer Platz… I didn’t see anything I recognized, and it was getting late. I was lost in Munich , without a map, and not able to speak German. I couldn’t even remember the name of the hotel we were staying at, nor the restaurant where we had eaten.
I tried to backtrack through streets I knew. How could I not see the Neues Rathaus from here? Our hotel was right near there. I tried to find something I could climb to see the horizon better… but with no luck. I found a fountain and sat down on its edge, admiring the beautifully carved stone lions next to the spouting fountains: the symbol of Germany. I watched as a couple walked passed by on the other side of the street, no longer so eager to ask if they knew where I could go. “Wo ist die Nues Rathaus, bitte?” was getting kind of old. All the directions, “Links hier… rechts dort…” were blurring together and much too difficult for me to follow. I watched the cobblestone sparkle in the changing light reflecting off the rippling water and noticed trolley tracks. I looked up as I remembered that there were tracks near the Neues Rathaus. I got up and walked to the edge, one question remaining: which way to go? I decided to walk to the right.
I followed the trolley tracks for what seemed like hours until I heard the tolling of a church bell sound 11 o’clock. I followed the sound into the middle of a plaza, and realized where I was. I was right outside the restaurant! I looked in the window at the table everyone had been sitting at, and realized that another family had replaced them. By the looks of their plates they had been there a while. I wandered back through the streets and with much relief found myself back at the hotel. I took my key from the night porter, and headed to bed where I found everyone sound asleep.



Last Resort
When I was younger, I was much more of an outside-girl. I was the one wearing boy shorts and skate t-shirts with a pocketknife attached to my belt loop, climbing trees, rocks, and adventuring. The adventures I had in the 26 acre plot of land my house was built on were endless.
One day, I was exploring the woods when I noticed a white spot in the distance. I walked closer, and near the edge of the stream (well… it was only a stream when it rained) I found a pile of scattered bird feathers. Intrigued, I looked around just to see even more of the similar piles. I followed the trail to a huge rock formation half way down the mountain face in front of my house. I climbed around the rocks for a little while, taking on whatever challenge showed itself. I noticed some sort of animal waste on the ground… maybe it was a fox, or a mountain cat, or a coyote. My imagination ran wild.
I came upon what looked like an entrance to a den, and looked inside. I could only imagine what kind of animal lived in there. I shone my flashlight into the hole to try and see what was back there, and noticed two green, reflecting eyes staring back at me. Surprised, I continued to look. They stared at me for half a minute or so, until a loud noise came out from inside the hole like nothing I could have ever imagined. It sounded almost like a dying cat, but like a scream… rasping and threatening, yet pleading at the same time. In an instant, I found myself face to face with a fox.
I jumped back onto my feet as it came out of the hole, and grimaced at the sight. It’s fur was falling out. Missing in some places because of mange of some sort. It looked terrible… It showed its jowls and continued to scream at me, but I felt nothing but pity for the poor animal. I could tell that something within it had gone mad… because it wasn’t at all afraid of me.
Unsure of what to do, I thought back on everything I could remember about dealing with wild animals. Most books had said not to move… but the fox was advancing, however slowly, towards me. It also looked like it had rabies, and I did NOT want to be bitten. The only other thing I could think of was to throw a rock at it, or poke it with a stick, but I didn’t want to anger it. I had never dealt with anything like this and didn’t want to risk it. Instead, I did the last thing I could think to do.
I reached up and with all the strength I had, pulled myself straight up into the branches of the pine tree above me, scratchy bark grating into the skin of my fingers. I strained and got myself over the edge, balanced, to safety. I climbed up a few branches, just to be safe, and watched the activity below from my safe point. The fox was barking its sickly bark, and circling the trunk of the tree. It staggered around, not looking up at all, almost as if it forgot what it was searching for.
There I waited until the sun set, when I was sure it was gone.