What Cheryl Strayed Teaches Us

I loved this scene in Wild. Cheryl Strayed a master of precisely drawn tension.

It made me think about Mexico City. On the second day after I arrived I arranged to see a room in a flat that I’d found on Craig’s List. Being from New Zealand I didn’t know anything about Craig’s List except that in American movies solo women who used it were in danger of never being seen again.

I took the collectivo to meet the guy, hanging on for dear life as it swung through suburbs that all looked the same. I strained my neck searching for land marks and wondering how to get back.

I got off at Frida Kahlo house with all the other gringas. Whenever anyone called me a gringa I said quickly, no soy gringa. Pues, Rusa, they replied. I was too busy laughing to argue.

When I finally located the meeting point there were two messages from the guy on my phone. The first informed me he’d be the one on the motorbike. Great. The second apologized, he was held up at work and couldn’t be there for another hour and a half. I’d picked the time to avoid being out in the dark. In the small town in Jalisco where I’d been teaching English when people found out I was going to Mexico City alone they tried to talk me out of it; you’ll never come back, they said, ominously. But I was here now and I needed a room.

Soon an engine roared through the dark, the guy sprang off his bike and spoke in a torrent about how great the apartment was and how much I was going to love it.  

I’d expected to meet the other flatmates but when we arrived he explained they were all out as he unlocked the door. I’d come this far, I told myself. He showed me around explaining how great the place was, how lucky I was. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs he stood with his hand on the handle of a white door. I’ve saved the best for last, he said. What? The basement, he explained, eyes flashing. You have to see the games room!

A friend had dropped me off at the airport when I left and as we pulled up I remembered I’d forgotten to bring a book to read on the plane. She rummaged in the back of her car and emerged with a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey. Nooo! I said. Yesss! she said.

I read the entire thing on the plane, transfixed by how bad it was. When the guy said ‘Games room’ my mind went straight there. I looked behind at the front door wondering whether I should I run for it. Quickly, I said, I’m already late my friend’s waiting for me for dinner.

Cheryl’s scene made me think of that. Men, if you’re alone with a woman and she suddenly says someone’s waiting for her, she might well be fearful for her life. It may not have anything to do with you. She’s learned from past experience. Set her mind at ease.

In Mexico the guy unlocked the door slowly, holding it open for me. Ladies first. My heart had gone to hell. He flicked on the light to reveal rows of hooks on the walls that were crammed with multi-coloured carabiners and yellow-and-green climbing ropes, against the wall below rested a tangle of mountain bikes and two orange and one yellow kayak stuffed with life jackets. We go out on the weekends, he said.

In Book news:

Affirm Press acquires world rights to Madeleine Cleary’s debut Historical Novel The Butterfly Women. Sounds fantastic. (out 2025 I believe).

And in case you haven’t heard, UQP announced the acquisition of screenwriter and author Thomas Vowles’s first novel. A psychological thriller set in Melbourne’s queer scene, The End of Everything, which promises to be suspenseful and brilliant (out 2025 too)

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