Cragmaw Pond

Dear Journal,

I'm breaking a promise today, but I'm okay with it. I said I would never go back to Cragmaw Pond, but as we get older, our perspectives on things can change. I probably should have gone back a while ago if I’m being honest.

Why did I make this promise in the first place? To answer that, I have to go back over ten years and start at the beginning of my new life … which was also almost the end.

Growing up in Alberta, Alaska, there wasn't much to do, but I didn't know it then because I was too busy getting outside and exploring. Back then, you didn't dare tell your pops you were bored or he'd have you outside cutting firewood. He thought that if you could breathe without coughing and walk without a limp then you had everything you could possibly need.

He used to say he had me fishing, hunting, and making fires before I turned four. I don't recall it happening exactly like that, but I do remember I was always out in those woods, which I loved.

But back to that promise.

When I was fifteen, I had a job working at the lumber mill, and I'd be a liar if I didn't say it was the toughest but most exciting job I ever had. From sunrise to sunset, we were trekking through the woods like explorers, cutting down trees and bringing them back to the mill. I'll never forget them letting me use a chainsaw on my first day. I should have known then it wasn't the safest place to work. I was lucky to have escaped with all my fingers because a lot of men didn't.

After the shift was over, most of my coworkers went home for a shot of whiskey and passed out on their couches. I must have been something special because I went straight to Cragmaw Pond; the most beautiful place in the world. It was a fifteen-minute bike ride from the mill and it was frozen most of the year. It stood in the shadows of Jenny Mountain, which carved its peaks into the clouds.

I used to sneak up there after work to go ice fishing, but it was really about the view. It was like something out of a movie, and it’s still the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen. I've been to the states now and took a road trip through the Midwest, but the Grand Canyon didn't have nothin’ on Cragmaw.

After a few months at the mill, this kid Johnny joined the crew after Don was left crippled by a falling tree. Johnny was my age and started coming to Cragmaw with me after our shift. Believe it or now, he said he had never been ice fishing before; I didn't think that was possible growing up in Alberta.

After his second month at the mill, we’d gone over twenty times. I brought some adventure to his life. He put on a tough act at work, but he loved to have fun. Sometimes we'd stay out fishing past midnight and sleep in the abandoned cabin by the pond before going straight to the mill in the morning.

I guess I should have seen what was coming, but I was a bit naive. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Johnny kissed me in that abandoned cabin after a few too many shots of the whiskey I'd stolen off my dad. When he realized what he had done, he punched me square in the face and stormed off. I didn't even bother reminding him he was the one who kissed me. One thing was for sure, though, he changed my life forever that night because I enjoyed that kiss way more than the ones with Sarah Becton.

Being gay wasn't a thing around Alberta, and it certainly wasn't a thing in my household, but that didn't change how I felt.

Johnny quit the mill the next day, and although I wasn't always the brightest in the bunch, I knew why. I thought about going to his house, but what would that have proved? Who knows, maybe he was so drunk that night that he thought I was Dorothy Maddow, the prettiest girl in school.

The next few weeks were like hell on earth. Me, gay? I was never too worried about talking to my dad, but that didn't stop a giant pit from forming in my stomach when I thought about him finding out. I had always told him everything. He knew about Sarah. I even told him I stole his whiskey. He didn't blink an eye. He just asked me to use my wages to buy two replacement bottles. When I did, he took me fishing and we shared some of it.

He was a great dad, but I knew he had his limits. Non-negotiables he called them, and I figured the thing I was going to tell him would be top of the list.

Even with all the whiskey I drank, I'll never forget that night I told him. It was Christmas Eve and dad kept pouring me shots. We were out back in front of the fire, and mom had already gone in for the night. Dad was excited about giving me one of my gifts early, a hunting rifle.

He plopped it on my lap, and I burst into tears. I don't know what got into me, but I blurted out I was gay. I'll never forget the look on his face; the embers from the fire reflected in his brown eyes. It was like I had awoken something deep within him. He waited a second to make sure I wasn't joking, but I didn't take it back. I didn't want to have to do it again.

He screamed and called me every name in the book. I was surprised he didn't take the rifle from me and end it right there.

"I won't have a gay son," he screamed, steaming mad, "If you're gay, then you aint no son of mine."

Oddly enough, I stopped crying after he said it and sobered up. I dropped the gun at his feet and spent Christmas Eve in the cabin by Cragmaw Pond. It was the worst night of my life.

I stayed there for another week, but eventually mom came to the lumber mill and demanded I come home. We didn't talk about it but I knew she knew. She said she loved me and promised dad would come around.

But he didn't. I saw him twice over the next month, and he didn't say a single word to me until my 16th birthday on January 24th.

"You've got two years left in my house. You better start saving up because the day you hit 18, you're out of here."

It wasn't the nicest birthday gift I had gotten over the years, but it was enough for me to start planning; not to leave the house ... but to end my life.

I took some time trying to figure out where to do it, but nothing made more sense than Cragmaw Pond. It was a peaceful place that seemed good to spend eternity.

I biked up there on February 10th. I searched the woods beneath some of the tall trees on the western banks of the river before I found a rock that was big enough. I figured I'd have to throw it a few times to get the thick ice to break, but at least there wouldn't be any going back on things. I didn't care if they ever found my body. I'd disappear just like dad wanted.

All those days working at the mill made me a strong kid, but it took all my muscles to lift up that rock and take a step towards the pond. But I stopped when I heard a noise from behind me.

"Hunter."

That was my name. I turned and saw the man who gave it to me.

"Mom told you me you'd be here."

I didn't say anything.

"Smart of you by the way," he said, gesturing at the rock, "Cragmaw is tough, but you always want to make sure the ice is strong enough to support you.”

"Yeah," I said quietly, dropping the rock on the ice near the shore. It didn't even crack.

"I think we should be good," said dad.

"We?"

My dad looked at me and I saw something I had never seen in my sixteen years of life; a tear falling down his cheek.

"You remember little Billy May?"

He had died a year earlier.

"Yeah."

"I was talking to his uncle at work yesterday. Found out he killed himself."

"Oh."

"After coming out to his family."

"Oh."

"And I thought about that and I thought about losing you ... and I would never be able to live with myself if that happened to you son."

"I thought I wasn't your son."

"I shouldn’t have said that. I've been the worst father in the world these last few months. When I grew up, being gay ... that wasn't even an option. When you told me that night, I thought about all my old friends and family. The way they talked about it… there's so much hate. I thought about all the looks you'd get and all the mean things those people would say to you. How hard your life was going to be."

I didn't say anything, so he kept on going.

"Then I realized yesterday, none of those people mean anything to me. But you mean something to me, and If I have to lose all those because my son is gay then I don't give a damn, Hunter. I may have a slightly different perspective now than before, but you're still the same brave, hard-working, adventurous kid that I love more than anything. Who you choose to be with doesn't change any of that, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

And just like that, my plans had been thwarted ... in the most unexpected way possible.

"You promise you'll never do what Billy May did?"

"I promise, dad."

"You might have a rough go of it, this is Alberta after all, but just remember I’m in your corner. Even if it's just me and you versus the world.”

"You really mean that dad?"

"I never meant anything more in my life."

And so I made a promise that day to my dad, but I also made one to myself. I would never go back to Cragmaw Pond as long as I lived. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I almost did.

As Hunter finished writing these thoughts, there was a knock on his door.

"Yeah?"

"Your mother said if you don't leave soon you're going to be late."

His father opened the door, and Hunter smiled; he looked great in his suit.

"And what did you say?"

"I said you can't be late. Not like they’re starting without you."

"Thanks dad. Just need one more minute."

“You’re always writin’ in that journal.”

“You’re the one who got it for me!”

“I know. Never said it was a bad thing. I’ve been doing some writin’ myself actually. I’ll wait for you outside, son.

His dad left the room and Hunter turned back towards his journal.

I made a promise that day that I'd never return to Cragmaw Pond, but over the years, I realized that was stupid. I might have a slightly different perspective now, but it’s still that same beautiful pond I’d been to every day after work. I used to view as the place I almost killed myself, but I realize it was actually the place my dad saved my life.

And later today, it would be the place I was getting married.

Hunter looked at his watch and realized he should get going; Johnnywould be waiting for him.