Control Seven
Control Seven
Akash had held the map at every orienteering event Rosa could remember. He was fifteen, he folded it into a neat square with the route facing up, and he never once asked her opinion. So when he handed it to her at the start of the Pine Creek course and said, "Your turn," she looked at it as though it might bite.
The first four controls went well. Rosa found the orange-and-white flags beside a fallen log, at the corner of a fence and on top of a small rocky rise. Each time, she punched the card and said, "Easy," a little louder than she needed to.
Control five was in a gully. Rosa chose a path that seemed to head the right way and set off at a jog. After a few minutes Akash glanced at the compass hanging around his neck. Then he stopped, crouched and began retying his left shoelace, which had been tied perfectly a moment earlier.
Rosa waited, bouncing on her toes, and looked at the map again because there was nothing else to do. The creek should have been on her right. It was on her left. The ground should have been going down. It was going up.
She turned the map around twice and felt her face go hot. "We need to go back to the fence," she said.
"Do we?" said Akash, standing up. "Okay."
They lost ten minutes. They found control five, then six, then seven, where a group of runners who had started well after them were already punching their cards.
At the finish, Aunt Meera asked how it had gone. Akash took off his cap and wiped his forehead. "Rosa navigated the whole course," he said. "Every control."
Rosa opened her mouth to mention the gully, the creek on the wrong side, the ten lost minutes. Then she saw that Akash was looking at her, not at his mother, and she closed it again.
On the drive home she asked if she could have the map next time too. He said that depended on whether she could remember which side of the path the creek belonged on, and she threw her empty drink bottle at him.