by C. S. Starr
Of course, their conversation would be very different if Zoey was the rat.
“They’re making breakfast out there. Fucking bacon, eggs, and toast,” Tal said, as he came in and zipped up the tent. “It smells amazing. I guess everyone needs to keep their strength up.”
“I guess so,” Lucy answered, her mind obviously elsewhere. “I could eat.”
“I’m dying to make a joke, but I won’t,” Tal said with a quiet grin. “You’re either entirely uninhibited or you were wasted last night.”
Lucy’s face went an inhuman shade of red. “You were outside?”
“Remember, you dragged me in?” Tal’s eyebrows jumped. “How much did you have to drink?”
“I don’t drink much,” she muttered, reaching for her pants. “Shut up.”
“Hey, I could probably learn a thing or two from you.”
His comment got him a pillow in the face. “I can’t believe you!”
“You can’t believe that I’d stop and listen to two attractive—well, I assume the girl you were with was attractive—having sex? What part of that is hard to believe? I wasn’t the only one. Besides, I didn’t want to lose track of you—”
“You’re disgusting,” Lucy muttered, shaking her head at him as she teetered between livid and mortified.
“I’m sure that’s not surprising. You have two brothers,” Tal said, nonplussed by her fit. “Don’t have sex in a tent if you don’t want an audience.”
He had her there, she begrudgingly thought to herself. “I’ll remember that, I guess.”
“I wasn’t that close, and it’s not like I could see much,” he conceded. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Not really.”
Lucy wondered for a moment, as her eyes traced his jaw, lingering on his patchy four day beard, what he’d do if she kissed him, what the fallout would be. She pondered what she’d feel deep in her gut, the way she felt all the best things. A kiss was never just a kiss, Lucy knew. There was a lot more than lips pressing and pleasurable minutes at stake. Outing herself as not gay wasn’t a move she was ready to make, personally or politically. She’d never found herself more self-aware of the political ties to her sexual orientation as she was in that moment, and it made her more uncomfortable than it ever had before.
“At least you’re honest? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” Lucy rolled her eyes as she fumbled to get dressed in her sleeping bag. “You’re a fucking asshole, Bauman.”
“Oh, get over yourself,” he said with a shrug as he smiled mischievously. “It’s not like I went out of my way.”
“Fuck you,” she muttered. “I’m going to shower. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Once she braved the massive line, the lukewarm shower, while not a cure-all, did improve Lucy’s mood as she washed away her regrettable bedmate’s scent from her skin. She found within herself the ability to start the day fresh. As fresh as any day ever was. The showers were stocked with soap, razors, and two in one shampoo, which Lucy avoided at all costs, no matter how many times her brothers had tried to convince her of its value and convenience. That morning though, she lathered up, and ran the very dull razor over everything that needed shaving. She did her best to ignore the fading bruises on her face and body when she found herself in front of a mirror, and once back at the tent, she happily sorted through the bag of clothes that Red Cloud had left for her the night before, finding jeans and a grey t-shirt that fit like they were her own.
***
Breakfast was the most awkward experience Tal could imagine, amplified by about two hundred people. He found himself surrounded by perpetual walks of shame, couples who hadn’t coupled with one another the night before reuniting, awkward brush offs from nights that hadn’t gone so well, and every other uncomfortable situation imaginable. Sarah dodged his glance from a picnic table, her arm around some other guy. Tal found the whole scene laughable, and was pleased with himself for avoiding it entirely.
“…Yeah, I slept fine,” Lucy croaked from his left side. He looked up from his bacon to find her having a bumbling conversation with a woman who he assumed was her bedmate from the night before, from the way she was eying Lucy like she was a prime piece of steak.
It was easy to see who had taken the lead the night before from their reaction to one another. Stacy was attractive, far taller than Lucy, and if Tal had to pick a descriptor for her, it would certainly have been Amazonesque. He wasn’t sure exactly what her background was, but she was certainly exotic with her tan skin and green eyes. This morning, unlike what he’d seen last night through the tent, however, their body language was certainly at odds.
“This is my friend, Tal,” Lucy said, elbowing him in the ribs. “Tal, this is...” she looked up thoughtfully, as if she was trying to recall her name. “Stacy.”
“Listen, sorry I left like I did,” Stacy said, glancing around, ignoring her introduction to Tal entirely. “People start to grumble if you’re…like we are, and you’re not contributing for the festival. It’s just this week.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Lucy replied quietly, and she bumped into Tal as she leaned back to get more personal space. “It’s all fine. I had a good time.”
“We should take a walk. Maybe down by the lake,” Stacy smiled and reached for her hand, but Lucy pulled it away, crossing her arms, her posture defensive. With that intuitive response to the mildest bit of aggression, Tal found himself seeing a side of Lucy that made a lot more sense than the almost impossibly hard exterior that she chose to project to the world.
“I’m…I’m going to have breakfast with my friend,” Lucy replied curtly. “I’ll see you around, maybe.”
“Oh. Okay,” Stacy replied, the hurt and confusion on her face evident. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Lucy frowned at Tal, and nodded at an empty picnic table, apart from most of the crowd.
“You don’t have to hang out with me,” Tal said, confused by the interaction, which was quite the opposite of what he’d seen last night. “I’m good to sit by myself.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Lucy mumbled, picking at her eggs. “I didn’t want to go anywhere with her.”
“Why?”
She glanced over at the woman in the line and frowned. “She’s not…we’d never…I’m not interested.”
“Not sober, anyway,” Tal smiled at her as she punched him in the arm. “She’s pretty. I’d be intimidated by a woman like that. I’m intimidated by a lot of women though.”
The awkward silence as they both ate left her tense towards Tal, for no particular reason. In return, he acted the same as he always had, which he knew she found irrationally infuriating from her huffing.
“I’m going for a walk,” she announced, picking the last bit of her food off her plate and stomping off in the direction of the campground facilities she’d discovered last night.
“What are we doing here?” he called after her.
She paused and cocked her head at him, obviously confused. “What?”
“Are we just hanging out here until your friend comes? I really need to call—”
“Don’t you dare call, Tal Bauman,” she snapped. “Not yet.”
“Fine, whatever,” he shouted in her direction as she walked away, noisily scooping up their breakfast dishes and heading back to the food area.
Tal braved the line for the shower and then headed back to the tent, becoming more aware with every passing minute of how little sleep he’d gotten the night before. He crawled in and was happy to find that he was alone and the sun had warmed the tent to a comfortable level After a few minutes, he lay down half asleep, his mind free of all the things that plagued it while he was awake. He thought about how delicious breakfast had been, how nice it was not to have any real responsibilities for the first time in a while, and how great it was to simply be alive, because the odds had not been in his favour, not that week.
“Tonight seems to be the night where everyone thanks the earth for the harvest by taking psych
edelic drugs,” Lucy whispered, unzipping up the tent before crawling inside. “It’s mushroom and peyote night.”
She’d showered again too, Tal noted as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. He sat up beside her and gave her a thoughtful smile. “I ran into your friend from last night again when I was in the lineup for the shower. I think she wants to kill me.”
“Why?”
“Because she told me. With her eyes.” He raised his brows. “She’s terrifying.”
“It seemed like a good idea after a bottle of wine,” she mumbled, as she rolled onto her side and tugged a blanket over her. “We all make mistakes.”
“We do,” Tal nodded, his eyes dark as he ran a cross comparison in his mind of the curve of Lucy’s hip against Leah’s. In a more fitted t-shirt, Tal was reminded that his traveling companion had a worship-worthy form. Not that he’d exactly forgotten. There was no one there to call him out on admiring her this time, and if she noticed, she didn’t say anything. He wondered what her reaction would be if he paid her an honest compliment. His father had always sworn they were the way to a woman’s heart, if said in the proper earnest tone.
“You smell better,” was what he decided on. It wasn’t the most flowery thing he could imagine, but he knew it could be interpreted as a tease if she chose to take it that way.
“You look less like a street urchin,” was her counter, as her eyes scanned his face, a half smile spreading across her face, her cheeks flush from the shower.
“I liked the beard. I did,” he said, stretching out on his sleeping bag. “But you know, I looked in the mirror, and I saw my dad.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Lucy asked curiously. “You liked your dad, didn’t you?”
Tal nodded. “My dad was the man. I don’t think I’ve earned my beard yet. He grew his when my oldest brother was a baby and he didn’t have time to shave. He always said he wasn’t a man until then.”
“So what makes you a man?”
“What makes you a woman and not a girl?” he countered. “What are the defining characteristics of adulthood when we’ve all been adults since we were children?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “I’ve wondered about that a lot. It’s certainly not having kids for a lot of men, or women.”
“I like to think you just know. Like a switch.”
“A man switch,” Lucy said, chuckling. “Well, you let me know when you flick it and we’ll discuss.”
“You think you’re a woman?”
“I’m like a mother to thousands of kids. Yeah, I do,” she said firmly. “I think it’s when you start putting others before yourself.”
“But if you do that, you’re not much good to yourself,” Tal replied. “Not if you do it all the time.”
“You sound like Bull,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.
Tal was curious about Bull, but had the feeling they wouldn’t get along, based simply on the way Lucy talked about him. “When do the seventies start?”
“Drugs will be distributed at eight sharp. They’re serving early dinner at four. You shouldn’t eat before you trip.”
“Do you take those?” Tal had pinned Lucy as straight-laced, but with taking her knowledgeable tone into account he decided that she was probably just smart enough to know her own limitations.
“Sometimes. Not often,” she said, propping herself up on her elbow. “It’s been a while. Peyote makes me a little sick, but I don’t mind mushrooms.”
“Are you going to do them?”
“Are you?” she matched. “I guess it’s all cocaine and heroin in West—”
“I don’t touch that shit,” Tal clipped, instantly offended at her insinuation. “Ever.”
“Fine, fine…I wasn’t accusing you of trafficking or anything—”
“That might happen, but I don’t know anything about it,” Tal answered defensively. If that happened, and Connor had anything to do with it, it stayed off the books. Tal had turned a blind eye to things a few times in the early years, but had put his foot down on that. The fucked up kids that hung out around Rodeo Drive made him sick to his stomach, partly because they were sad, but also because he knew a lot of them had come from families just like his—they just hadn’t coped as well with being independent in the early days, and it had cost them everything. “Don’t tie me to that shit.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Lucy said carefully, visibly surprised by his strong response. “I just know what I was told—”
“People do fucked up shit in your territory too. Don’t pretend they don’t.”
“I know they do. But a hell of a lot of it comes from West,” she replied unapologetically.
“It’s hard to manage that.”
“Well, if we decide to align, we’ll have to work on it.” She smiled. “Don’t get all huffy.”
“You didn’t answer my question. You answered it with a question.”
Lucy scrunched her face up thoughtfully. “I’ll have to see what kind of mood I’m in. You have to be in the right mood.”
“What’s the right mood?”
“Carefree. Relaxed. I was there until you were here,” she joked. “I was planning on shutting my eyes for a bit. I haven’t napped in ages.”
“Well don’t let me stop you.” Tal lay down and stretched, amused and surprised when her eyes darted to the thin strip of flesh that appeared when his shirt rode up. “I could nap.”
“So we’ll nap,” Lucy said, curling up. “I’m sure we’ll wake up in time for dinner with that bell they ring. I’m already hungry.”
Tal stretched his arms out, and imagined Lucy crawling into them, both of them entirely lucid and comfortable. He’d kiss her forehead and she’d embrace the little flip flop that her heart would do as a result. And they’d simply be, without all the questions, comments, fears and inevitable insecurities.
It was a nice fantasy, he thought to himself as she instead rolled away from him, curling up in a ball of her own.
“Lucy?” he mumbled, sometime later, rolling towards her.
She opened her eyes and blinked at him. “Yeah?”
“I should call my cousin. She probably thinks I’m dead.”
“What would she do if you were?” Lucy asked curiously.
“I don’t know. That’s why I should call,” he said quietly, guilt about not letting Leah know he was okay hitting him hard. “She…we don’t have anyone else really. Some friends, but….”
“I get it,” Lucy said, her brow creasing with concern. “Will she tell Connor?”
“Probably,” he shrugged. “He’s likely trying to get in her pants with me gone.”
“He likes her?”
Tal snorted, and thought with wistful discomfort about how beautiful his cousin was. “Connor likes anything he can’t have. I’m sure he doesn’t like her any more than he’d like a forty-year-old hooker with nicotine stained fingers if they still existed.”
“What’s she like, your cousin?”
Tal stiffened at the question. There wasn’t a succinct way to describe Leah. “What do you mean?”
“Is she nice? Pretty? Smart? Kind? I don’t know.”
He rolled away, concerned that anything he said would give too much away. “She’s my cousin,” he replied curtly. “She’d want to know I’m okay.”
“Then call her,” Lucy replied, obviously confused at his harsh response. “Do what you need to do.”
“I think I want to try mushrooms later,” he replied, surprising himself. “Will you show me how?”
“Show you how to do mushrooms?” Lucy laughed. “Do you want me to chew them for you and spit them into your mouth?”
“Oh, is it your turn to spit in my mouth?” Tal chuckled. “I didn’t know we were making a habit of that.”
“Gross,” she muttered, unable to stop herself from smiling.
He cleared his throat gruffly. “So, you just eat them?”
“I can’t believe you never tried—“
Tal looked away fr
om her, irritated that he felt embarrassed for not being as experienced as she was. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a total fucking loser. There you go. I need to go call my cousin.”
Confusion registered instantly on Lucy’s face at his short response. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “No problem.”
They were saved from their awkwardness by the diner bell, and a few minutes later they both silently shuffled out of the tent, Tal eager to get away from Lucy’s prying eyes.
He left her in the line for dinner and called Leah at the pay-phone at the far side of the park, near the showers. She answered after a few rings.
“Hey,” Tal said sheepishly, knowing he’d be pissed at her if she’d pulled what he had. “I’m alive.”
A sob jumped through the phone and straight into his gut. “Fucking hell, Tal! Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m in Oklahoma, at some sort of orgy festival,” he answered honestly, a weight lifted off his chest at her knowing he was okay. “We were grabbed by some assholes, and nearly killed, but we escaped.”
“To an orgy festival?”
“We’re hiding out here. It’s…an experience.”
“You and Juan?”
Tal squeezed his eyes shut as he thought of Juan lying next to him, bloody, his eyes still and glassy. “No. Me and Lucy Campbell.”
The line went quiet.
“You’re still there?” Tal said, clearing his throat. “Leah?”
“You’re with Lucy Campbell?” she said carefully, before she started talking rapidly. “Why? Tal, are you okay—”
“I’m fine. They grabbed Lucy too. We’re…we’re here together.”
“Tal, you watch her,” Leah said, her voice shaking. “She’s…they won’t tell us anything about what happened to you.”
Tal knew exactly what his cousin looked like at that moment. Her eyes would be large and troubled and she’d be wringing her hands, the phone cradled in her neck, but her mouth would be tight; angry. “We’re not sure who grabbed us, so they’re playing it safe. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll…I’ll call again soon.”
