by Chris Bostic
“That works for me,” Katelyn’s mom replied.
I squinted inside the cave, but couldn’t make out a single feature.
“Let me get a lantern.” Spotted Owl fished a small flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on long enough to enter the cave. He reemerged a few seconds later with a solar-powered lantern that he clicked on. The warm white glow didn’t do much to illuminate the area, but it was enough that my group could follow without tripping over ourselves, or our hosts.
“Follow me and we’ll get you guys comfortable,” Spotted Owl said, and guided us to the far right side of the opening. He stepped under the ledge first, and pointed out a row of cots, each with a small camp pillow and a heavy wool blanket. “Looks like they’ve got you some beds set up already. Have a rest.”
I stood back and let the others move in first.
Austin stuck with Mom and made sure she was next to Spotted Fawn and Katelyn’s dad. Then he claimed the cot on the other side. John filled in next to his dad, leaving three empty cots at the end next to Austin, which were closest to the cave opening.
That part didn’t bother me. It was the numbers. Only Katelyn and I were left.
“What the heck?” I mumbled, but kept my thoughts to myself. I assumed Spotted Owl had called ahead on the two-way and let our hosts know that Noel and my dad were coming. But there was only one extra bed.
I wracked my brain trying to solve that mystery, thinking maybe they’d been told that one of those two men weren’t coming to the cave, which made even less sense. Or maybe Spotted Owl was bad at math. The more I thought about it, the more my head hurt.
Katelyn sat on a cot, leaving a gap between herself and Austin. My mind still overanalyzing, I sat on the one between the two of them and fell asleep without bothering to take off my boots or pull up the blanket.
CHAPTER 15
A faint glow filled the cave. Best as I could tell, the opening faced south. If so, that meant we wouldn’t get any direct sunlight first thing in the morning, especially with the boulder field blocking the entrance. However, there would be a decent chance the place would warm up nicely by late morning.
My body, on the other hand, wasn’t about to warm up. Somewhere in the early hours, I’d finally pulled up the wool blanket, but it wasn’t enough to cut the chill.
My arteries seemed to circulate cold blood, which slowly drained back into my tired heart like water to a sump pump. I rolled over again, and found myself unable to get comfortable on the hard canvas of the cot.
Every time I moved, the thick fabric creaked like the bones of an old man. It was stretched so tight across the frame that I felt like I was sleeping on solid rock. The thought of my father alone in the woods under a pile of stone made me jerk upright, and I hopped up to never touch that cot again.
I crouched at the end of the bed and looked around the cave. It seemed as large as ours, though the ceiling was less uniform. A narrowing toward the middle was low enough that I would have to duck underneath, and behind that point remained all shadow.
No one seemed to be stirring in the rear. As I turned back toward the opening, I heard the soft clinking of metal. I remained crouching and watched as an older woman put a battered tin coffee pot on a small metal burner to boil.
I straightened up slowly, not wanting to draw attention to myself. She noticed me anyway and gave a friendly wave.
I waved back, but otherwise didn’t move.
The lady mashed a finger over her lips, apparently letting me know that she’d keep quiet to avoid waking the others, and I nodded in response. As she turned back to tend to the burner, I slipped over to the opening of the cave closest to me and got my first look outside in the daylight.
As expected, the boulder field obscured most of my view. Above, the towering high plateau that was Newton Bald made me feel tiny. The endless trees ringing the rest of the camp should’ve added a degree of comfort, sort of like the warmth and security of a heavy blanket, but it made me feel more alone that I ever had before. It was far worse than watching the roadblock by myself after John had bailed on me to hunt.
I shook my head and sucked in a breath of cold autumn air. A faint orange glow radiated from beyond the boulders. I slipped farther out into the early morning light, and felt the chill descend over me even worse than it had been inside the cave.
“So much for warming up,” I mumbled to myself, and decided a short hike might help get the blood pumping. But I didn’t dare go too far and risk running into a sentry. That would’ve definitely been an awful way to start the day, and it was already bad enough.
Weaving around the boulders, I reached a spot where the flat area ended and a slope tumbled down to a valley far below. I hesitated at the edge, tempted to remain with my back resting against a boulder. But I felt too unprotected there. Anywhere that I could see the sky was too exposed, and I assumed it probably always would be.
I quickly identified a little foot trail leading away from the camp, and struck off down the path. Wanting to stay close yet get away, I didn’t go more than twenty yards before I found a boulder as big as a Volkswagen protruding from the ground, holding back dirt that spilled all around it.
I sat on the low side of the boulder, putting it between myself and the camp. I hunched up my shoulders, and pulled my jacket tight. Though I’d never tried meditating or put much stock in quiet reflection, I decided it was worth a try. Something had to ease the pain besides keeping on the move. I’d wear myself out trying to run away from the pain, and knew that wasn’t an option.
It would be even less possible in a few short weeks when the bitter cold settled in to stay. I watched as the vibrant, but dying, leaves fell by the hundreds. Each one was another layer of protection, falling to the ground in piles of blood red and rusty orange colors.
Somewhere early in my failed attempt at meditation, I heard a branch crack. My head shot up. My eyes scanned the somber woods. Somewhere through the brown trunks and falling leaves, I expected to see a deer. Hopefully not a bear.
Finally, I pinpointed a new sound. Soft footsteps padded down the trail from behind me. I remained curved in on myself hoping the camp sentry or whoever would pass me by.
Burying my head in my arms, I peeked out between a gap. A long, brown ponytail swished as the prettiest girl in the junior class traipsed down the trail.
“Crap.” I debated letting her walk past. It took only a second for me to decide. “Psst, Katie,” I whispered.
She spun around, clutching her chest. “Dude. You scared the crap outta me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I patted the ground next to me. “Have a seat.”
“Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
“Not really. What’re you doin’ out here?”
“Looking for you. I heard your cot creak.”
“Like a thousand times,” I replied. “I thought it was gonna collapse. That thing was awful.”
“Yeah, I’d take my air mattress over that rock anytime.”
I grimaced at the unfortunate reference to a bed of stone, and quickly brushed off her comment. She had no way of knowing what I was thinking, not that I necessarily wanted to share any of that with her.
“So…” she said, looking at me with those warm brown eyes that made every day better than the last. I needed that warmth. “You want to, uhm, talk…you know?”
“Not really.” I forced a smile. “But I want you to stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She leaned against me. I took her hand. With fingers linked together, I laid my other hand over them. She sighed.
I focused on the brightness in her twinkling eyes; the subtle smile that tugged at her cheeks. If she could be happy stuck out there in the middle of nowhere, I resolved to find a way.
The sun popped over the distant mountain, bathing the valley below in yellow light. It accentuated the fall colors, making the Great Smoky Mountains come alive with blazing reds and vibrant oranges of leaves clinging to their last moment of glory.
&n
bsp; “It’s beautiful,” Katelyn whispered.
The sunlight did wonders for her too. Through the dirt and grime and lack of sleep, she sparkled like a diamond.
“Yes, you are,” I said, once again looking at her perfect face.
“Don’t be silly,” she replied. “I’m a mess.”
“A hot mess.”
“I don’t think that means what you think that means.” She chuckled. “But thanks, I guess.”
“I’m just joking,” I said. “It’s what I do, you know…to avoid.”
“I get that.”
Katelyn leaned her head on my shoulder. I reached over to brush stray locks of her hair away so I could still see at least part of her face.
“Seriously, though. It’s really pretty out here,” she whispered. “Fall has always been my favorite time of year. Campfires and brilliant colors and just a little bit of coolness after a warm day.”
“My favorite, too,” I agreed, but quickly grew somber. “Or it used to be.”
Katelyn stayed quiet, but looked up at me as if she was urging me to talk. Something about her persistence made it to where I couldn’t hold back the grief any longer.
“All I see is death,” I admitted. “One minute it’s color and beauty, and the next dead leaves are raining down. I see cold winds making the trees bare, but helicopter blades too. I don’t see anything but winter coming, and I can’t seem to get to the other side.” I sat back and groaned. “It’s dying leaves and brown grass, and trees like skeletons. Skeletons. How can I go on having seen what I just saw, you know? My pops bleeding out. Every creek runs red with blood. Red like these leaves. They’re frickin’ everywhere.”
“I’m such an idiot. I never should’ve said anything about fall.” Katelyn never cried, but a fat tear rolled down her cheek.
I wiped it away, and cursed myself for making her feel even the slimmest fraction of the pain that haunted me. “I don’t ever want to take that away from you. You love fall, and I used to. Maybe I can again…but, right now, spring is looking a whole lot better. If, uh…forget it.”
Katelyn had to know I was talking about rebirth. She nudged me with her shoulder. “I wish I could help you over to the other side where it’s all green, and birds singing and sunshine.”
“I wish you could too, but…” I exhaled sharply again. “I just need to stop wallowing.”
“It’s not even been a day,” she said. “I think you’re entitled to grieve.”
“Entitled, huh? My pops always talked about entitlement, and how that was killing our country. Everyone thought they deserved everything for free, and never taking responsibility for anything.” I gave her a wry smile. “Somehow I don’t think the entitlement argument will convince me.”
“I can’t say anything right.”
“I’m just kidding,” I said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to change the subject.”
She nodded, and we sat there in silence for a while. The sun climbed high enough to peek through the tree canopy, enveloping us in a golden spotlight.
“What’s your favorite color?” I asked out of nowhere.
“Not pink,” she replied.
“I didn’t think so. How about purple?”
“It’s okay. I like some shades.” Katelyn pointed to a maple tree with leaves of such a deep purple that they might have qualified as maroon. “That one’s not so bad.”
“Orange is my favorite,” I said, pushing aside my earlier, darker thoughts about the fall. No matter what, I knew I was stuck with another month of fall colors, and realized I’d better get over it quickly. I pointed out a different tree close to the purple one, but brighter and carroty in color. “I really like that one there.”
“Oh, yeah. I love the orange leaves the most,” she said with a burgeoning smile. “Everyone probably likes the reds or yellows, but the blazing oranges are my favorite. Even more than purple.”
“My favorite part of a campfire is the orange,” I said. “The way the coals ripple with heat as they glow. The orange is the strongest. It burns the hottest.”
“We could use a little heat. I love cuddling by a campfire.” She snuggled back in next to me, and rubbed her hands together in the sunlight like she was at a pretend bonfire.
“I’m on fire for you,” I blurted, having been weak enough in the moment to spill my thoughts. It’s not like it was a secret, though I’d never shared anything quite that intimate before. “Ever since I saw you, I knew you were the one.”
“Wow,” Katelyn responded, seemingly a bit lost for words before finally giving a nervous chuckle. “You’re, uhm, not so bad yourself.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Oh, Zach. You know better than that.”
I did. Affection was painted all over her face, which made her soft features glow like sunshine.
I wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment. To pull her tight and do things we’d never done before. But I lost my nerve, and couldn’t follow through. The grief was too heavy to overcome. I wouldn’t allow those kinds of intimate thoughts when my heart was still in need of mending.
Katelyn pressed the issue. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail and fluffed it seductively. Then she reached to cup my cheek in her hand.
The internal battle raged. My hands moved reflexively to wrap around her waist and pull her close. All the while, I babbled nervously, almost to the point of incoherence.
“You know, uhm, when the leaves are gone, this place is gonna look totally different,” I said, trying and failing at ignoring her touch. “We’re kinda, uhm…we’re gonna be really exposed soon.”
“I’d like to expose you,” she purred, and reached for my coat.
“Good God, you’re talking like me,” I teased.
She smiled and took hold of my sleeve, gently pulling off my jacket as I watched. Then she sat up and shrugged off her own jacket, and twisted around to where she was sitting in front of me.
Katelyn planted her hands on my chest, and pushed me back against the boulder. My breath came in rapid gasps.
Finally, my body shook off the paralysis, and I grabbed for her. I pulled her into me, mashing my lips against hers with a hunger like I’d never known before.
My hands raced for the tail of her shirt. I grabbed her around the waist with one hand, while snaking the other up her side. She tickled at the touch, and broke the contact to shake with a nervous laugh.
“You’re so cold,” she murmured, and pressed her lips to mine once again.
Not anymore, I thought, and swept her to the ground. We rolled until she straddled me, covering my face with a curtain of long hair. She sat up long enough to brush it to the side before gently touching her soft lips to mine again.
The connection was electric. I burned. My body ached in a way I’d never experienced, but it was pure joy.
I grabbed for her hungrily, running a hand through her hair. I refused to break the contact. We rolled again, arms and legs tangled, lips locked.
An animalistic growl built, but not only from the back of my throat. A different kind of predator prowled; this one in the skies above. I pushed myself off Katelyn, and turned an ear to the sky.
Seconds later, the growl turned to the full roar of super-charged jet engines. A trio of swept-wing fighters passed directly overhead. The trailing sonic boom shook the ground like an earthquake.
CHAPTER 16
I slumped to my side next to Katelyn. I ran a hand through her hair, and whispered, “Dang it. Guess we’d better get back.”
“They’re gonna be freaked out that we’re gone,” she said, and looked to the sky. The sun was much higher now, meaning we were well past when the meet and greet was supposed to have started.
“Wonder why they didn’t come looking for us?” I stood and offered a hand to pull her up. “No way they’re not awake now.”
“Yeah, probably been a while.” She accepted my hand, and hopped to her feet. Before I could turn away to head back to camp, she wrapped her arms around my waist. “A
lone time was amazing,” she whispered and gave me a quick kiss.
“Yep, that’s what you’ve been missing,” I quipped.
“Have I ever.”
Katelyn quickly gathered up her hair in a ponytail and took off for the camp. We hurried up the trail to the boulders in no time. Before I could wonder if we really should’ve come back together, we’d already weaved through the maze and stood at the opening to the cave.
Six pairs of eyes locked on us in a matter of seconds, but no one said a word.
“Awkward,” Katelyn whispered, and walked over to her parents.
“About time you got back here, young lady,” her dad said.
It was Spotted Fawn who gave me the sharper look. “Just get some breakfast,” she said. “There’s no more time for goofing off.”
“I know,” Katelyn said. “Sorry.”
I went over to my mom. Though I never would have under any other circumstances, I spread my arms wide and gave her a hug. “Sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said as softly as she’d ever spoken in her life. A pained smile greeted me as I pulled away and took my place next to Austin.
“Feeling better, are we?” my brother said with a lewd grin.
“Dude. That’s not cool.”
“I don’t blame you,” he replied. “Wish I could take my mind off things for a while.”
I groaned, and definitely wished I’d come back alone. Granted, Austin probably would’ve assumed the same thing, and he wasn’t far off from the truth. But I didn’t feel the need to enlighten him any further.
“So what’s up?” I asked as Mom handed me a plate with pancakes.
“These are cold now,” she said, and didn’t bother to answer the question.
“They’ve met without you,” Austin said. He didn’t waste time trying to sugar coat things. “We’re headed out this afternoon for Cherokee.”
I shrugged, and started eating. I’d already resigned myself to that fact. It wasn’t like I thought we’d just turn around and go back to our camp. Even if we had, we would’ve had to break the awful news to Maddie. It was best for me to keep moving forward and worry about that later. There was enough to worry about as it was.
