The Ballad of The Lone Wolf.

by Darran Brennan

Aaron watched Mike pull a harmonica from his backpack and gently play it. He could feel his wrists again next to the campfire. His nose, ears, fingertips and toes had no feeling. A frosty burn radiated pleasingly up his arm, yet he remained unmoving but for that incessant heavy sigh; everything was a boring slog, even this moment of survival.

Mike eyeballed him, as he had since being separated from the group due to Aaron’s slowness. It was clear how much Mike disliked him. Being twenty, with broad shoulders, size twelve feet and thighs to match; his survival guide clearly thought he was more child than man.  Side-eyed, he listened to Mike play the bluesy tune, looking at the clouds in the night sky dimly-lit from behind by a full moon. Mike lowered the harmonica and looked down the steep ridge they’d climbed, as the sound of the raging river thundered below

—It’s dangerous moving in the dark, Aaron, these hillsides are too steep.

—So what, we sleep here tonight. It’s freezing.

—We can curl up.

—What together? Fuck off, Mike.

—It’s that or freeze.

—Freeze so.

Once the fire began to roar and dance sparks dangerously into the treetops, the spear-like points of Mike’s shoulders rounded out some—Sorry, Mike, I know it’s my fault we’re stuck here. I You can curl up next to me if you want.

—I intend to.

—Sorry, I’ve always been like this, a loser.

—Ah, Aaron, don’t say that. It’s fine.

—No, no, it’s not. It’s why I signed up to do this survival course. And I knew I’d be the one everyone hated.

—Nobody hates you.

—They do. I slow them down.

—Ah, jaysus, to be honest, they’re thankful. You’re the one asking all the questions, while they’re pretending to know what’s going on.

—Not Hannah.

—Her, she’s full of it. Look. It’s fine. You’re here to learn and this is part of the experience.

—I don;t think getting separated from the group, me slipping into a ravine and you having to rescue me was part of the plan.

—Well, no, but I do mitigate for these things.

—You’re cool.

—Well thanks, for that Aaron, I’m rarely ever called cool.

—You are, Mike.

—Ah cheers.

The fire began to die down, and Aaron went to collect firewood, bundling it and tying it with the rope he’d been given. When he returned, Mike was missing.

—Mike! Where are you?

—Taking a leak, bud. 

As Aaron piled dry branches together, flinging the wet ones he’d picked up out of impatience. Mike put his hand on his back. —Good job.

Aaron flinched. 

—I hate being the one that everyone pities.

Mike sighed—Sit will ye. Jaysus.

Aaron sat on a rock next to him—Sorry.

—Don’t…! Stop saying sorry, man. Christ. It’s fine. You matter. More than that lot to be honest. At least you want to get things right. They all think they’re Bear Grills after three days in the Wicklow Mountains.

Aaron laughed—I was gonna say but Hannah is a right bitch.

—A mega one. Look, Aaron, you can take a page out of their book. Fake it till you make it, that’s all they’re doing.

—It’s like you said, life is all about experience, and I have none. They’re stronger, always off doing things.

—But are they really experienced or are have they just learned how to get the heat off them?

He shrugged—They seem to be experienced.

—Everything is an experience, right, but some are more valuable than others.  Sitting alone in a room, just breathing, can be a life experience compared to doing donuts in a second hand BMW.

—How?

—If you’re actively sitting alone and breathing; you are congruent.

—What?

—You are your whole, true being. Those experiences don’t change who they are. 

—They don’t want to change. Thay think they’re all that.

—Exactly. And there’ll come a time when they want change in their lives are not willing to change. They’ll blame their problems on the world.

—Or they don’t know how to change.

—Let’s forget about them. You want to change, yeah?

—Yes. Badly. But I can’t. I mean I don’t know how to.

—For me, change happens over time, if change is what you’re about. As long as you want to be better than you were.

—I do want to be better. I try, but I never change.

—Don’t you?

—No.

—Perhaps the only thing that needs to change is your expectations. You don’t wake up one day and you’re this amazing person that you want to be. It takes years. Those first few weeks there will be big changes, but it slows. 

—Yeah, and I always fall back.

—Maybe you’re seeing it that way, but you wake up and those changes are still there, as long as you’re still about it.

Aaron stared into the fire—Yeah, I’m still so needy. I want to be self-sufficient, I want people to depend on me, not the other way around.

—I don’t see neediness in you. The very opposite. You need to give yourself a break, man. I see someone beating himself up, maybe it’s to toughen yourself up. I did that, and I almost destroyed myself. There’s a lot to love about you, make sure you notice that.

—I don’t see anything… In me, I mean, not in you.You’re sound.

—Thanks. But really, you don’t see anything to love in yourself?

—No, nothing.

—You’re sensitive.

—Weak.

—Weak!? What are you on about? You’ve got that backwards. That’s a superpower.

—Everything affects me.

—Yeah. Good. You’re picking up on information. If you’re sensitive…

—Too sensitive, my da says.

—That’s probably something you decided was valuable to you when you were young. 

—My da thinks I’m rude and nosey.

—He’s wrong. Man, if you could hear yourself from my position. Look, you’re gonna need to fight off the Hannah’s of this life and the people who latch onto her, the cowards. Your sensitivity is something people will respect if you use it right. 

—How.

—If you can get to someone, show them you know what they’re about, that you see right through them and put them on the back foot, there gonna…

—Fuck me up.

—Respect you, dummy. Otherwise they’ll just overlook you.

—No, it’ll be beef.

—Sound like you’ve encountered a few sociopaths. Most people will respect you, alright.

—I want them to.

—What Aaron? 

—I don’t want them to know what I’m about.

—Look, just ignore the psychos. You’re not helping yourself pretending you’re some hero lurking in the shadows. The only way you get on in life is facing up to it… and ignoring the psychos. 

—Yeah, but… yeah, you’re right. But I’ve fucked myself haven’t I? Destroyed all my good parts. I should have been smart and avoided the mad ones and braver around people I respected. 

—I was a coward for years.

—You Mike? No way.

—I wanted an easy ride. We’re the same. I tried to hide in the shadows, get away without getting hurt, tried to be bulletproof by bearing myself up.

—But you are.

—It’s hard to hurt me now, admittedly, but there was a cost.

—What?

—I suppose a light went out.

—A light?

—There are rules of nature, Aaron. The bravest get the breaks.

—So you’re a coward too?

—I was brave for years, but I was surrounded by cowards. I had to join them or be driven insane.

—Insane?

—If you’re surrounded by cowards, your presence will show them up.

—Actually, before I put on all the weight, I was, but… yeah, I joined them

—Thems the breaks.

—Where’s the law of nature in that?

—When I say cowards, I mean, the group mentality. The hive mind. We’re pack animals. Being brave is kind of a solo run.

—You have to be brave though, right?

—No. But some do. You do. That’s who you are, that’s who I am. 

A howl echoed deep in the forest and they looked up at the moon appearing through the clouds. 

Mike played his harmonica a while and stopped—Some of us are lone wolves.