ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ

Grayson still wasn’t sure why Jameson would suggest such a thing. 

Granted Jameson wasn’t the most cautious Hawthorne but even he wasn’t that reckless or stupid. 

Suggesting a family camping trip along Canada's West Coast Trail—with two-year-old twins in tow.  

“Aren’t they … a little too young for this?” Libby had asked dubiously, bounding Seren in her lap. 

“There’s no such thing as too young,” Jameson declared, “It’s best to start ‘em young.”

"You start them on walks around the neighborhood," Grayson corrected. "Not one of North America's most demanding backcountry trails." 

“Neighborhood trails are for normal people,” Jameson said.

“And hiking trails are dangerous,” Nash contradicted. 

Jameson waved him off. "Oh come on! They won’t be hiking the whole trail. They'll be in carriers half the time." 

“And the other half?” Grayson asked suspiciously.

“They’ll toodle.” 

“You have so much trust in their toodling,” Grayson deadpanned. 

Jameson flashed him a Cheshire cat grin, “You should too. Have a little faith, Gray.”

Grayson wasn’t sure whether to take it literally and stop the toddler Faith from eating the black crayon too. 

“She won’t eat it,” Avery affirmed, as if reading Grayson’s mind, “We talked about it only yesterday that it’s bad to eat crayons.”

Faith looked at Avery and blinked before confidently shoving the entire thing in her mouth. 

Jameson snickered, “So much for your talk, heiress.” 

Grayson, who was sitting closest to Faith, gently pried the crayon from her tiny fist, replacing it with one of her stuffed rabbits. 

She accepted the trade immediately. 

“There,” Grayson said, “that’s better.”

“Bold of you to assume she won’t try to eat the rabbit too,” Jameson added in a whisper just as Faith put one of the rabbit’s ears into her mouth. 

“Jokes on you, she's already tried eating it three times already. Good thing it isn’t edible,” Max said.

Libby laughed, lifting Seren up a bit higher before she started to demand a stuffed animal for dinner too. 

“I don’t know, Jameson,” Libby began, “Camping with toddlers seems very dangerous. And the West Coast Trail isn't exactly a walk in the park either.” 

"It is literally a walk in a park," Xander pointed out. 

Six pairs of eyes turned toward him. 

“National park,” Xander amended. 

Jameson snapped his fingers, “See? Thank you, Xan.”

“That doesn’t help your case,” Nash said. 

“Okay, check this out,” Jameson turned the laptop toward Nash, opening up the photos he’d found on the internet. Towering cedar trees disappeared into low-hanging mist, wooden ladders climbed moss-covered cliffs and black sand beaches stretched alongside the Pacific, driftwood scattered across the shore like sculptures carved by the sea.

This was the West Coast Trail. 

It was so captivating that it even caught the twins’ attention. 

“Water!” Seren exclaimed

“Ooo-shun!” Faith said right after. 

“It’s beautiful,” Libby admitted in awe. 

Jameson took this as his cue to speak, 

“We won’t do the entire trail. We’ll hike the easier sections, camp nearby, and then come home.” 

Nash studied him for a long moment, “You’ll listen when I say it’s time to head back?”

Jameson held up three fingers, “Hawthorne’s honor.” 

Nash stared at Jameson for a minute longer before sighing. 

Jameson’s grin widened, “Should I take it as a yes then?”

“A heavily supervised and careful yes.”

Grayson knew they were going to regret this. The question that remained was when?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Five days later, Grayson found himself standing in the middle of a parking lot on Vancouver Island. 

The air smelled faintly of salt and humidity. 

Towering evergreens surrounded the trailhead, disappearing into a blanket of low-hanging mist that made the forest look impossibly ancient. Somewhere beyond the trees, waves crashed against the rocky shoreline, the sound carrying through the quiet morning. 

A signboard at the very start said:“WEST COAST TRAIL” and behind it there was a map of the trails, terrains and details about the infrastructure. This place had over 100 ladder systems, 4 cable cars, and 2 hiker ferries.

The weather was bright and warm.

Everyone was dressed in hiking-appropriate gear and each one of them looked a least bit ridiculous. 

Hiking boots, waterproof shells, fleece jackets. Libby and Lyra had braided their hair while Avery had hers in a ponytail and Max wore hers in two spacebuns. Faith and Seren were in bright waterproof one-piece rain suits, each twin carrying a small backpack they demanded to take with them. 

“All ready, fam?” Jameson called out, looking at them through his dior shades.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” they all chorused. 

Nash took out the framed carriers out of the SUV and set them out with practiced ease. They had already decided who would carry which twin and what times. 

The family checked in with Parks Canada, sat through the mandatory safety orientation, took a family photo next to the signboard and were finally on their way to the trail by a ferry across the Gordon River. 

The crossing took barely a few minutes.

Faith pressed both hands against the side of the ferry, her eyes impossibly wide as she watched the dark green water ripple beneath them.

“Fishie?” She asked, peering down hopefully. 

“I don’t think so you’ll see any from here, baby,” Avery said, gently hooking an arm around the two-year-old’s waist before she could fall over. 

“I’m pretty sure I saw a crocodily there,” Xander remarked.

“A crocodile?” Lyra repeated, turning in her seat, “In Canada?”

 “COCODILE?” Faith perked up.

Lyra shook her head, “No honey. Canada’s too cold for them. They don’t live here.”

“That’s territorial racism,” Xander shot her an offended look, “It’s a free world. They should have autonomy.” 

Lyra snorted, “I’ll pay to see you bring crocodiles here and get banned from Canada all together.” 

Xander sighed dramatically, making Faith giggle at his antics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Once they were at the beginning of the trailhead, Nash unfolded the framed carriers, giving one to Grayson to put Seren in. 

“Are you ready to be taller than everyone else?” Nash asked, securing Faith in the harness.

“Yes!” Faith squealed as Nash tightened the straps and wore the carrier like a backpack. 

By the time he was done, Grayson also had the other twin safely secured in the carrier on his back.

“Horsey,” Seren said, patting her uncle’s head.

Jameson burst out laughing, “Oh Gray, congratulations on your promotion.” 

Grayson didn’t dignify that statement with a response. 

“Guys, selfie!” Max hollered, lifting her phone. 

“We just took a family picture at the start,” Jameson complained as everyone crammed into the frame. 

“That was different,” Max defended, taking three consecutive shots at once, “All done!” 

“Okay, let’s move,” Nash announced and the family stepped off the wooden dock and onto the trail. 

Within moments, the sounds of the ferry and the distant chatter of other hikers faded behind them.

The rainforest swallowed them whole.

Looming red cedar trees partially obscured the view of the sky, their trunks so wide that it would’ve taken several people to link their hands to encircle one. Moss was draped over branches like curtains, blanketing fallen logs and creeping over rocks in thick velvety layers. 

Ferns crowded both sides of the trail, their fronds crunching underneath their hiking boots. 

The twins kept reaching over to the tree leaves, trailing their fingers along them as they all walked forward. 

Jameson and Avery were in the lead, followed by Grayson, Lyra, and Seren, then Libby, Nash, and Faith. 

At the end, Xander and Max were moving relatively slow, stopping every now and then to film a caterpillar or a butterfly. 

A few yards ahead, the trail curved around the base of an enormous cedar, its roots snaking across the ground like giant wooden veins. 

“Step carefully,” Jameson warned from ahead, jumping over the uneven maze of roots on the ground. 

Seren giggled as she watched Lyra leap across an intricate trap of roots. 

Birdsong drifted through the canopy overhead, joined by the distant rush of water somewhere deeper in the trees. Every now and then a cool breeze swept through the cedars, carrying the scent of salt from the Pacific before disappearing again. 

For a while, they all continued in silence. 

And then — a patch of mud appeared. 

Nobody had seen it coming. 

Avery’s boot slid out from beneath her. 

She instinctively reached forward to grab Jameson’s arm. 

“Ah!” 

Jameson turned just in time to maintain their balance. And then, a second later, they were subjected to gravity and—

Jameson stumbled backward, Avery stumbled forward, and together they both fell in the muddy puddle with a SPLAT

Silence.

Lyra stopped inches away from the crime scene, making Grayson walk straight into her. 

For a while, everybody looked at the fallen couple, before Xander burst into laughter. 

“CINEMATIC!” 

Even Nash was trying to surpass a smile. 

“I got the last half on video!” Max said, waving her phone in the air, “This was golden. Thanks for the footage, Ave.”

Jameson pushed himself upright, a streak of mud running from his temple to his jaw.

He looked down at himself. Then at Avery.

Then back at himself.

“For what it’s worth, I wasn’t the one who initiated the physical contact.” 

Avery gaped at him, her face burning. 

“Max! Delete it!” Avery demanded, getting up and dusting the mud off of her.

“Nada,” Max shook her head gleefully. 

From her carrier, Faith pointed to the mud, “AGAIN!” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, there are plenty more puddles for Aunt Avery and Uncle J to fall into,” Nash reassured her. 

Faith nodded at the perfectly reasonable statement. 

They resumed walking 

And soon, the easy part was over. 

And the real obstacle began. 

 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The trail gradually began to climb.

The packed earth gave way to weathered wooden boardwalks, slick with years of rain, before narrowing once more between towering cedars.

Stretching almost straight up the side of a moss-covered bluff was an enormous wooden ladder; followed by two others.

Three ladders, connected by tiny wooden platforms, disappeared into the canopy above until they were almost hidden by the trees. A weathered sign at the base of the first ladder said: USE CAUTION. ONE PERSON PER LADDER. 

Xander was already reading the information board.

"'Many of the ladders exceed twenty metres in height,'" he read aloud. "Huh."

"Huh?" Libby repeated incredulously, “That's your reaction?"

"I mean... they're structurally sound."

"Based on?"

"The fact that Parks Canada hasn't removed them."

“Okay, new rules,” Nash said, observing the ladders, “We take this slow. One person on each ladder at a time. Three points of contact at all times. No rushing, no distractions." 

“You and I go first with the carriers,” Nash said to Grayson.

Nash tested the first rung with the toe of his boot before shifting his weight onto it.

It gave no indication of falling. 

One rung.

Then another.

Nash began to climb.  

To her credit, Faith didn’t try to twist around, she clung to her dad tightly, not even raising her head until they reached their fast platform. 

It took them a grand total of twenty minutes for all of them to make it safely to the top. 

From up there, the rainforest stretched in every direction, a rolling canopy of emerald broken only by the occasional glimpse of the Pacific glimmering through the trees. Mist clung to the distant hills, giving the entire landscape an almost dreamlike quality.

The photographs Jameson had shown them hadn't done it justice.

Jameson wandered over to the edge beside Avery, slipping an arm around her waist, "Worth the mud?"

Avery pretended to consider, “Ask me after my boots dry.” 

So far, it had been almost two hours since they’d first arrived. 

The trail began sloping gently downhill.

At first, nothing seemed different.

Then, the sound of water appeared. 

The dense wall of evergreens gradually began to thin until shafts of sunlight streamed freely between the trunks. 

Golden sand stretched endlessly in both directions, interrupted only by towering driftwood logs scattered across the shoreline like the forgotten skeletons of ancient trees. To their left, sheer cliffs rose from the sand, blanketed in the same emerald rainforest they'd just emerged from. To their right, the Pacific Ocean rolled toward them in endless waves, each one crashing against the shore before dissolving into white foam. 

They were finally at the beach. 

“Everyone in favor of a break?” Libby asked, already putting her backpack on one of the driftwood logs 

“Please,” Max begged, “I’m dying for a break.” 

"Seconded," Xander said, dropping his backpack onto the sand with a dramatic groan. "I have documented enough insects for one morning." 

One by one, backpacks were shrugged off and leaned against the massive driftwood logs.

Grayson crouched, unclipping the buckles on Seren's carrier.

"You ready?"

She nodded eagerly.

The second her boots touched the sand, she bounced twice in place.

"It's squishy!"

A few feet away, Nash had already let Faith out of her carrier. The twins toodled over to the ocean; Faith bending down to pick up shells on her way while her sister was busy burying her hands in the sand and then abruptly pulling them out; sending sand flying everywhere. 

They were closely followed by Xander who happened to be on a receiving end of the flying sand. 

The others got to work to set up the camp. 

Grayson and Jameson cleared a broad patch of sand above the high-tide line, moving smaller pieces of driftwood and stones out of the way.

Libby and Lyra unrolled the tent footprints while Avery unpacked the tents themselves.

Nash snapped the collapsible sections together one after another until they formed long, flexible arcs.

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he fed the first pole through the fabric sleeve.

The tent slowly began to take shape.

Within minutes, bright-colored backpacking tents stood in a neat line facing the Pacific. Libby had called the twins back and now they all were setting up the picnic blanket. 

Meanwhile, Xander was wrestling with the rainfly.

"I think it's backwards."

"It's upside down," Lyra corrected.

"Those are different problems."

"They are." She admitted trying to take one corner of the sheet

A gust of wind chose that exact moment to catch the loose fabric. It was so strong that Lyra let go off the one corner and the rainfly ballooned dramatically before wrapping itself around Xander like an oversized cape.

“SUPERHERO!” Seren yelled, pointing at Xander.

“Nah, I’m the machiavellian,” Xander said in a stage-whisper, making Seren giggle uncontrollably. 

After the rainflies were secured, they all relaxed and ate. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Lunch had barely ended when the wind shifted.

It wasn't gradual.

One moment, the sea breeze had been gentle enough to carry the scent of salt and pine.

The next, it tore across the beach hard enough to whip loose strands of hair into everyone's faces.

The tents shuddered.

The rainflies snapped loudly against their guylines.

And, just like that, tiny raindrops began falling. 

Everybody looked up. 

The sky, which had been a pleasant blue earlier, was now a black with angry storm clouds patrolling. 

A thunderclap resounded in the distance.

Faith clung to her mother. 

“Everybody! In the tents! Now.” 

They didn’t need to be told twice. 

Everybody scrambled to collect the empty boxes and fold the picnic blanket. 

The rain didn’t stop. If anything, it only became more torrential. 

They had four tents set up. Libby, Nash and Faith went in the first when and tried to take Seren with them. But the toddler had clasped her little fist around Lyra’s jacket, demanding to go with her. 

Grayson and Lyra ended up taking Seren with them. Avery and Jameson took the next tent and Xander and Max hastily stored the coolers with them in their tent. 

Rain hammered relentlessly against the tents.

Within seconds, the steady drumming became deafening, each drop striking the rainflies with enough force to make the fabric tremble overhead.

It wasn’t raining alone now. It was a thunderstorm. With lighting. 

They were doomed. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Communicating between tents proved to be tougher than expected. 

Twenty minutes in and Nash regretting checking on the others. 

“EVERYBODY ALRIGHT?” he had yelled.

“WHAT?” 

“DID HE SAY EVERYBODY FRONTLINE?” 

“WAIT WHAT?” 

“YOU WANT US TO GET OUT?”

“JUST SHUT UP. NEVERMIND.”

Thankfully, everyone had heard this. 

The rain was so loud against the rainflies that holding a conversation beyond your own tent was nearly impossible. 

Inside Grayson and Lyra’s tent, Seren sat in the middle, eyes fixed on the zipper of the tent. 

“Will the tent fly?”

Grayson nearly choked.

“Do you want it to fly?” Lyra asked seriously.

Seren considered this and then looked at her uncle’s terrified expression, “No.”

“Thank God,” Grayson muttered under his breath, “I would’ve hated to tell Nash that Seren had taken after Jameson.” 

Lyra laughed, kissing the top of Seren’s head. 

A few minutes later, someone thumped twice on the outside of their tent.

Grayson unzipped the vestibule just enough to poke his head out.

Instant regret.

Rain immediately splashed across his face.

Jameson stood outside in full waterproof gear, completely drenched despite it.

"What are you doing?" Grayson shouted.

"I'M CHECKING THE GUYLINES!"

“You are going to get electrocuted!” Grayson yelled. 

“I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"I SAID—"

Another clap of thunder drowned him out completely.

Jameson gave him a confident thumbs-up, which Grayson chose to interpret as ‘Leave to my devices’ 

Before Grayson could protest further, Jameson splashed through another puddle toward Nash's tent.

Grayson zipped the vestibule shut, shaking his head. 

Outside, Jameson's muffled voice carried faintly through the storm.

"I'M GOOD!"

A second later: 

"JAMESON! GET BACK IN YOUR TENT!" Nash roared.

Even over the pounding rain, the rest of the campsite could hear Jameson laughing all the way back to his own tent. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Afternoon blended into night and night changed into the morning. 

The first thing Grayson noticed when he woke up was silence. It seemed that the rain had stopped. The second thing he registered was how he couldn’t feel his right arm. Lyra was using it as a pillow and Seren was curled between them; both still asleep. 

Grayson couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Sweetheart.”

Lyra didn’t stir. 

“Sweetheart.” 

Lyra frowned in her sleep, mumbling a “What?”

“My arm.”

“So?” 

“I need to get up.”

Lyra opened her eyes, blinking at him blearily. 

“Do you?”

Grayson looked at her for a long moment, “Eventually."

She yawned, then glanced down at the arm she'd been sleeping on.

"Oh."

With exaggerated reluctance, she lifted her head.

The instant Grayson pulled his arm free, a wave of pins and needles shot from his shoulder to his fingertips.

“WHO WANTS BREAKFAST?” A voice hollered from the outside. 

Grayson winced at the volume. How did Jameson have so much energy this early?

“Jamie, keep your voice down! Some people are still sleeping!” This was Nash. 

“SORRY.”

“You are still loud!” 

Seren shifted, waking up, "Bearkfast?"

“Yes, breakfast,” Lyra affirmed. 

 They got out of their tent, with Grayson holding Seren in his arms. Outside, the campsite looked completely different than it had the day before.

The sand was dark with rain, puddles glistened between enormous driftwood logs, and every cedar needle sparkled with tiny droplets of water. Beyond the beach, the Pacific had settled once more, gentle waves lapping at the shore as though yesterday's storm had never happened.

Avery stood over a small backpacking stove, stirring something in a pot while Jameson unpacked mugs beside her.

Xander and Max were packing up their tents.

Libby, Nash, and Faith were the last ones to emerge out of their tent.

They ate breakfast in silence and started to pack their camping gear. Sleeping bags were rolled, backpacks repacked, and every trace of their campsite carefully cleaned up until it looked as though no one had ever been there. 

It was Jameson and Xander’s turn to carry Faith and Seren in their carriers. 

The return journey was slower than the day before as Grayson had taken out his digital camera to snap a few shots of basically everything. Something he hadn’t gotten to do before as he had been carrying Seren. 

By early afternoon, they crossed the Gordon River ferry once again and soon the West Coast Trail slowly disappeared behind them.

“So…same time next year?” Xander asked. 

“Maybe when the kids aren’t in diapers,” Libby deadpanned. 

“Till next year? I’m guessing it’ll be a yes then,” Xander concluded. 

Libby shook her head, “Who knows? Maybe there will be a few more additions to the family by then. You aren’t getting rid of diaper-wearing kids just yet.” 

She punctuated the remark with a pointed wink at the newlyweds, Grayson and Lyra, who had tied the knot earlier that year. 

THE END.