by Kevin Craig
“Right?” I say. Lame. Ack. “Today’s the big day. You ready?”
“I’m not too worried about walking. I jog every day so I’m used to pushing myself. This’ll be nothing. So, yeah. Ready. What are you doing up so early, anyway?”
“Well, this may sound crazy, but I’m kind of spoiled. I don’t do camping or roughing it back home.”
“I never would have guessed.” He laughs a bit, and I can’t tell for sure but I think he just faked a gay tone. He’s messing with me.
“Yeah, well. I heard the horror stories about the hostels, so I wanted to have two showers. Spoil myself a little.”
“Ha, you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you? You know you can’t store up showers, right?”
“Very funny. I just needed one last morning of pampering. Don’t tease the diva. It’s not nice.”
“Ha ha. You’re okay, Troy. I think I like you.”
Yeah. And I think I love you. Stop thinking these thoughts, Troy.
“I like you too, you big lug,” I say in my best macho dude impersonation as I give his shoulder a small punch.
“Ha. Dude. Just, no. Don’t even try. I like you for you. Don’t go changing, yo.”
He stares at the castle, picks up his coffee, and takes a sip. I’m content to smile and join him in taking in the scenery. This is going to be an amazing adventure. I always knew it would be. I wonder what evil deed I’d have to pull off to get this trip again next summer. I know, I know. That would never happen. I heard all the serious lectures that came along with the awesome opportunity. I’m not stupid. My life of crime is over.
After a few minutes, Meagan joins us.
“Good morning, gentlemen. You guys look eager and ready to walk. Could I be mistaken?”
“No, no,” Manny says. “We are so ready. Right, Troy?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good to hear. I thought Gil and I would have to stare into the faces of six sourpusses this morning. It’s a good sign that the first two I see are both smiling.”
“I can’t wait, Meagan.”
“Excellent. We’re going to have a meeting in…” She takes out her phone and looks at the time. “…twenty-five minutes. Just inside. Don’t worry, you still have lots of time to castle-gaze. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Just wait. There are so many amazing sights along the way. Every town is going to fascinate you. We do begin at the castle in Ponferrada because of how cool it is, though. A glimpse at the potential of the Camino.”
“Well, I’m sold,” Manny says. He drains his café con leche.
“Me too,” I say. “This is going to knock me out.”
“You’re both disappointing me profusely. You’re supposed to be moaning about possible blisters and the hot sun and the stupidity of walking. You let me down.”
“I’ll try to be more miserable, Miss Meagan. I do solemnly swear I will.”
“Thank you, Troy. That’s promising. Don’t let me down now.”
“I will try my level best to be a miserable drama queen.” I get up to leave. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I was going to start my journal this morning. Court-mandated, remember. We must journal our experiences! I’m just going to go sit in the grass in front of the castle and write a page or two. That’s a sentence you don’t hear every day.”
“Okay,” Manny says. “I guess I should crack mine sometime soon. Not my favorite hobby, writing.”
“That’s too bad, because, me? Well, let’s just say you’re looking at a future Pulitzer Prize-winning author. It’s okay, you don’t need to fanboy over me just yet. I will be patient and await your future idolatry.”
“Well, that’s good,” he says, laughing. “Because, yeah… so far, you don’t impress me much.”
Is he teasing me again?
“I’m off for brekkie, boys. As you were,” Meagan says. “Don’t forget to get out your credencials when you come back in. We’ll get our first stamp when we check out of the hotel.”
“Aye, aye. Ciao.” I cross the narrow, cobbled street between the hotel and the castle. It feels like I’m on a movie set. At any second knights on horseback are going to come galloping out of the castle gates swinging some medieval weaponry at me. I’m too young to die.
I stretch out on the grass, open my journal, and pull out my pen to begin my first entry. I stare at the blank page, afraid to tarnish it with ink, afraid the words won’t be the best I’ve ever written. I try to organize the words in my head before they fall onto the page. I hope to God they don’t actually read these things. Gah.
Chapter 10 — Diego Nelson
If that was day one, then we did it. It actually wasn’t half bad. I mean, it started out rocky. We had to wait for that Claire girl. Again. I’m tired of her already, and it’s only been two days with her. She came down late for breakfast. We were all standing there with our backpacks on, ready to start walking, and she was like, “Well, duh, I have to eat, people. Seriously.”
If it wasn’t for Gilbert, she would have made all of us wait. As it was, Gilbert had to stay back with her. We started our walk without them.
This was okay, I guess. We didn’t have to walk with her. But since there were five of us with only one supervisor, and they had wanted our first day on the Camino to be fully supervised, we needed to stay close together. All because this snot-faced girl with the wild hair slept in and didn’t give a crap about the rest of us.
I don’t care if it is ironic that I’m pissed about someone wasting my time. My principal would love the irony, though. Seriously. He’d be like, I hope this drills home the lesson that you can’t go around setting fires or pulling fire alarms and wasting everybody’s time, Diego.
So we walked together today. Greg, Manny, Troy, Shania, and me. And Meagan, of course. Our jail guard. I should drop that crap, though. She’s cool. I guess she and Gilbert are only doing this because they believe in it. They believe there’s hope for us derelicts, that we can be redeemed and rehabilitated. That can’t make them bad people.
Anyway, day one wasn’t that horrible. It was sunny and hot. I met, like, a zillion people, all ages, from all over the world. I fell in love with a girl from the Netherlands and then watched her walk away with her friends. Sophie. Even her name was sexy. But she came in and out of my life just like that. We walked together and talked for a couple of hours, and then she was gone. She knows things about me some of my closest friends don’t know. How weird is this trip gonna be if people keep coming in and out of our lives, disappearing at will? Strange. But fun.
Tonight we’ll sleep four to a room. Apparently, this is a good thing. Gilbert said there’ll be days when there are twenty or thirty people in one room.
I’m crashed on my single bed, inside my mandatory sleeping bag, looking at day one’s passport stamps in my credencial. Your own sleeping bag was at the top of the list of things to bring. It’s not like my abuelita has money to throw around on stuff we won’t use. Like I’ll ever go camping again in my life. It was just another added expense to feel guilty about.
Moms tried to make me feel better by saying they’d save more than what they spent on the sleeping bag when they bought groceries for one less Diego while I’m away. Probably true. I try not to, but I eat like a pig.
We’re still waiting for Gilbert and Claire, which pisses me off. I’m a growing boy, yo. I need my food when I need it. We’re all waiting for them so we can eat together. I’m more than a little pissed. At least we got to choose our beds so we didn’t have to share a room with her.
I kind of feel sorry for her, because clearly we all hate her and we’re still at the beginning of the journey. There’s no way she can redeem herself now, not like Shania did anyway.
I’m in a room with Manny, Troy, and Greg. I couldn’t even believe Meagan allowed that breakdown. I thought there would have to be a supervisor in each room, but she sa
id it didn’t matter… not like we could go anywhere.
“Greg and I are going outside for a bit. You guys wanna come?” Manny says. I was gonna journal, but any excuse not to is a good one.
“Sure, I’m in.” I knock on the bathroom door. We lucked out with en suites tonight. They’re probably trying to ease us into roughing it. I’m okay with that. I’m not as bad as Troy, but I like comforts too. I’ve never been camping. I’ve actually never been out of the big city. “How about you, Troy? Coming?”
“Where?” he asks from behind the closed door. “What’s up?”
“We’re just going outside for a bit. Wanna come?”
“I’m in. Just give me a sec. Where the hell are we anyway? Ow, Jesus! Damn.”
Troy got a blister already. First day. He was the one who was most excited about being here, too. He’s in there staring at his blister and cursing. Clearly someone is going to have to actually do something about it. Not like he will.
“Leave it alone, dude,” Manny says. “It’s just a blister. Crying over it isn’t going to take it away, diva.”
I laugh. “Dude, take it easy on the kid.”
“Nah,” Manny says. “He loves me.”
The door opens, and Troy comes out. “I heard that. You are so not my type, Manny.” He pseudo-limps past us on his way out of the room. “Let’s go, gentlemen. Is anybody going to answer my question?”
“What question was that?” Greg asks. Dude is quiet. Just when I think he must have taken a vow of silence he pops up again and says something. Own. Little. World. For sure. I make a mental note to try to get to know Greg better. Maybe he’s just feeling out of his element or something.
“Where are we? What’s this place called? Shouldn’t we all write this down for our mandatory journal entries? Dear Diary, tonight we stopped in the quaint little town of fill-in-the-blank.” He does a little dot, dot, dot with his finger. Weird that he doesn’t know. His face practically lives in his guidebook.
“Cacabelos,” Manny says, because Manny knows everything all the time. He’s unbelievable. “We traveled just over sixteen kilometers today. Meagan said they started things easy to get us worked in. Apparently it worked for you, dude. You are worked in.”
“Very funny.” Troy continues out of the room. “May you never know the pain of a blister on your heel, dear Manny. May you never know it.”
He flounces and is gone. Manny is right behind him.
“Follow the leader,” I say to Greg.
“Hey,” Greg says. “Wait up.” He races out behind me.
“What’s your story, anyway?” I ask him once he’s caught up to me.
“I really don’t have one. I did some lame-ass thing, just like everyone else here. Not a lot to tell.”
“Nah, dude,” I say. “Not what I meant. Besides, Gilbert has this thing. He doesn’t want us talking about our crimes yet.”
We both laugh.
“I’m just some guy, Diego. I kind of just want to keep to myself. I have a lot to think about. I have a lot of crap on my mind. Hey, where’d they go? How’d they disappear so fast?”
“Other way, genius. If you don’t want to talk, I’m cool with that.” We walk away from the albergue to join Manny and Troy. “Wait up, guys.”
“Listen, I’m sorry, man. It’s nothing personal,” Greg says. “I really don’t have much of a story. I just wanna walk and get this over with. I have someone waiting for me back home. Someone who needs me.”
“Dude, I totally understand. No worries.”
“Did you guys get a load of this church?” Troy calls to us. “What is it with churches here? They’re everywhere. And they’re beautiful.”
Manny and Troy sit down on the church steps. It’s only then I realize Troy brought his journal. He begins to write.
“Scoot over, dude.” I shove him a bit as I sit. Greg hovers in front of us. Now that he’s told me he doesn’t have a story, all I want to know is his story. And who’s waiting for him. “Have you noticed they all look kind of the same? There’s like three different kinds. Replicated over and over again. This one looks a bit like the one we’re walking to.”
“What is? What looks the same?” Troy asks.
“Dude, Troy,” Manny says, laughing. “You are easily distracted. You just mentioned the churches. Diego’s talking about the churches. You’re one of those squirrel people, aren’t you?”
“Huh? No. Just tired. Long day. Blister.”
We sit taking in the view. I look up at the windows of our albergue room. Wrought iron grates bar most of the windows, and I can see a pair of underpants hanging from the grate outside our washroom.
“Please tell me you didn’t hang your skivvies out our bathroom window, Troyboy.”
“What the—” Greg says as he follows my sightline. “Man, Troy, that’s messed up.”
“Troy wears boxer briefs?” Manny asks. “I never would have thunk it. I saw you as a bikini bottom kind of guy.”
We burst out laughing as Troy turns a dozen shades of red, drops his journal to the cobbles, and buries his head in his hands.
“Oh my God, Manny,” Troy says. “I can never look you in the eye again. Don’t do this to me, guys. A boy’s undies are private. I mean, Jesus.”
“Private doesn’t wave in the breeze for everyone to see, dude,” I say. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“We all got the handout, Diego. It said to wash our underwear in the sink and hang them to dry.” He’s pretty much pleading with us now. This only makes us laugh harder, which is only making him turn deeper shades of red. “Don’t talk about my underwear. Please, show mercy.”
“It’s a particularly flattering shade of green,” Manny says. He jumps off the steps to avoid Troy’s punch.
“I just died. I’m dead,” Troy says. “Manny, stop.”
“I would call that mint green.” Greg puts on a lisp as he says, “Or maybe a nice pistachio. Gay couture. Better accentuates the swishing.”
As much as I don’t want to laugh, I do. Manny loses it. It’s not until I look back at Troy that I realize we might have gone too far. He’s so red now, but also totally deflated. I think we may have stepped over that line and bullied him. Totally didn’t mean to.
Troy picks his journal up from the cobbles and starts to head back to the albergue.
“Ah, come on, Troy,” I say through my laughter. “You know we’re only kidding. It’s okay. It’s all good. Come on back.”
“Yeah, sorry, Troy,” Manny says. “No harm, little dude. Come on. Don’t be a spoilsport.”
Greg goes quiet and stares at his feet. I run after Troy, who’s already across the street and almost back to the albergue. As I reach him, I grab for his shoulder. Still laughing, I pull him toward me, and he turns a bit in my direction.
It’s only then I know we’ve gone too far. But come on, dude. What was he thinking, sticking his underwear out the window? Of course we’re gonna taunt him and go off on him.
Tears stream down his face.
“Dude,” I say. “Come on.”
I let go of his shoulder and he quickly swings away. I look at Manny and Greg. They’ve settled down on the steps of the church and look too afraid to join us.
Without facing me, he says, “No, Diego. You come on. Go to hell.”
Totally short fuse.
We’re at the entrance of the albergue. Troy steps inside, and I follow him.
“Bud, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were actually upset. I thought you thought it was funny too. I’m sorry. We were just being stupid. It’s underwear, dude. Underwear’s funny.”
Clearly frustrated, he turns to face me as he wipes at his eyes.
“Would it have been funny if we were out there joking about Manny being Black, Diego? Or about Shania being a bitch? Or your Moms.”
�
��What?”
“You guys were clearly joking about me being a fag. It was funny for about the first second when you pointed out my underwear.
“After that, it just got all gay and mean and everyone thought it was okay to take potshots at me. Do you know how hard it is for me to be around guys? Especially good-looking ones who are all being so nice to me. It’s messed up. Did you all have to be hot and nice? I mean, seriously.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“Then you toss out a couple homo jokes and bam. Everything’s ruined.”
“Oh, man, dude,” I say. “I’m sure it wasn’t like that. We were just joking about your gotchies, man. Not about that. We’ve been cool about that, Troy. Haven’t we? There’s no way any of us would make fun of that.”
“Bikini bottom. Pistachio,” he says, complete with Greg’s affected lisp. He looks at me like I’m crazy, and I begin to see his point. “Yeah. They weren’t teasing the gay, trying to make him uncomfortable.”
“Shit,” I say as Gilbert and Claire come storming through the door, laughing. Troy quickly looks away. He darts back to our room before they can get a look at him. I think I’m still the only one who saw that he was crying, so I might be able to save this. But damn.
“Hey, Diego,” Gilbert says, all bubbly, as though he didn’t just come in over an hour late dragging the pain in the ass behind him. “How was your first day of walking? Everything I promised it would be?”
“And more.” I turn to go. “Sorry, sir. I have to go talk to Troy.”
“Sir? Seriously, Diego. No. I’m not okay with sir. First names only, please.”
“Right, yeah,” I mumble, but I’m already mostly gone, trying to catch up to Troy before he locks himself in the bathroom or something.
I can fix this.
Chapter 11 — Shania Reynolds
Tuesday, July 2nd – Day 4 – Walking with Diego
