For several minutes, we walked in silence. Soon, we reached a roundabout with a fountain at its center—the only one in good condition I’d seen so far. There were two white angels holding huge vases and as we approached, water flowed out of the vases. Soft blue and green lights under the pond’s transparent waters turned on—proximity sensors.
The water ceased to flow and the lights turned off as we left the roundabout. Now we walked down a wide cobblestoned pathway flanked by huge trees and well-trimmed bushes, and I could see the glow of a campfire far away in the distance.
“There you are.” Aaron pointed with his arm. “Can’t go further, need to go back. If my folks discover I’m outside this late, they’ll ground me for life.”
I muttered thanks between my teeth and strode toward the campfire, my gaze fixed down on the ground. If I didn’t look, no freaks or pervs, either real or make believe, would show up. I couldn’t stand another freakin’ weird close encounter. The cobblestones grew scarcer the farther I walked until they completely disappeared. It was so damp, my feet splashed in the mud.
I looked back and saw nothing but darkness behind me, and Aaron had vanished. The pathway and its flanking trees were a murky funnel ending in the faraway roundabout. In the distance, the fountain appeared ruinous. The fog returned fast, seemingly rising from the ground by magic. I licked my lips. I couldn’t tell whether all I’d seen and heard in the forest and in the house, and all I saw now, was real or a hallucination. My chest tightened and I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, I had this certainty it was my punishment for murdering Yago. Devils and ghosts were haunting me. I dashed. I had to escape from whatever was after me.
A hundred feet ahead of me, Edward scanned the darkness calling my name—well Justin’s. I sprinted and almost crashed against him, so very wanting to hug him close and sob in his arms. His strong, warm arms. I didn’t because I saw Daniel by the campfire. I was not gonna give that jerk the pleasure of roasting me or saying again Justin was a sissy as he’d done earlier.
“Where on earth have you been?” Edward snorted, his nostrils flaring and his arms akimbo.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I knew they were red and maybe swollen because I’d been about to cry. I gulped and cleared my throat. The urge to pee was gone. I raised my head and stared at him for a few seconds.
“In the forest, where else?” I shrugged my shoulders.
He raised his chin, crossed his arms, and planted his legs wide. “And why the hell did you take so much time?” He almost shouted. “I thought something had happened to you.”
I marched away from him and waved a hand. “I didn’t take that much time. Besides, this stupid forest’s kinda messy. I couldn’t find my way back. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna crash.”
I strode pass the campfire without even glancing at Jorge or Daniel, although I could feel their eyes on me. I went into my tent. Abe was already inside, sleeping like he was dead. I slipped into the sleeping bag Edward had lent me. Then, and only then, I started to sob in sheer silence so nobody could hear me.
July 3, 6:32 am
In the impossibly small space inside our tent, Abe, Daniel and I woke up to the rumble of an earthquake shaking the tent wildly. Abe and Daniel sat up in their sleeping bags as if propelled by a spring, their eyes wide open. Their unruly hair rubbed the tent’s interior canvas while they gaped in all directions. I did the opposite. I cringed and hid inside my sleeping bag, peeking only through a small opening.
“What the hell?” Daniel almost squealed.
The earthquake stopped. “Everybody wake-up,” Edward’s muffled voice came through the tent’s canvas—he must have been shaking the tent from outside. God! He’d scared the hell out of me, and out of everybody else too. “Rise and shine!”
Daniel bore a pinched expression on his face. He lifted his upper lip in contempt. “Rise and shine, my foot! This dude is pathetic.”
“Wake up! I want everybody out here in 5 minutes!”
Abe, who had stood motionless after the first heart-stopping impression, reacted first. He crawled out of his bag and yawned and stretched. Recovered from his start, he seemed still half-asleep. Nevertheless, he pulled on his sneakers, didn’t lace them, and crawled out of the little tent. As he did so, I saw Edward’s boots through the open entrance.
Edward said, “Morning,”
“Mbrolning,” Abe muttered in another yawn, mangling his words. “Jeez! What time is it?”
“A little after half past six. Jorge’s chopping some firewood by the ravine. I want you to go and help him. I want breakfast ready on the double. We’ve gotten a lot to do today.”
Abe yawned again. “Tsure…”
The earthquake resumed. “Wake up! Wake up! Only 3 minutes left. Remember, a Scout is an early bird.”
Daniel kicked me. “Wake up, dude. This is not the Four Seasons.”
Because I was hiding inside the sleeping bag, Daniel hadn’t noticed I was awake too. The sunglasses were inside beside me. I grabbed them and put them on, then I came out of my bag. “You don’t need to be rude. I’ve already heard Edward.”
“You don’t need to be rude. ” Daniel mimicked my tone. “Why do you talk like a sissy? People are saying you’re gay. If you’re still sleepy, you should have gone to bed earlier last night. Where on earth were you, dude?”
I tried to sound aggressive and manly. “It’s none of your business, dude. I got lost. That’s all.”
“That’s what you get when you go to Alaska to pee, dude. Did you sleep in those sunglasses? You’re a total freak, dude!”
I kept with the strong tone. “It’s none your business. Besides, you don’t want to see my eyes. You’d freak-out. I’m a devil.”
Daniel raised his upper lip. “Ha, ha, ha. How funny, dude. Don’t be a retard on top of being a sissy.” He kicked me again. “Get out of the sleeping bag! Edward’s outside and counting down our time, dude. The guy freaks out and behaves like a depraved Army sergeant when we’re late.”
“That sergeant can hear you, Daniel,” Edward said.
Daniel kicked his own sleeping bag until he got out of it. He’d slept in white briefs and nothing else. His skin looked smooth, and the pale color of his hairless torso reminded me of milk. His smooth legs, as milky as his torso, looked more like girl than guy legs. For one second, I wondered if he’d shaved himself clean. He reached for this backpack and dug inside it, producing a clean, black t-shirt and clean white briefs. Then, he took off the briefs he’d been wearing. Instinctively, I closed my eyes and buried myself back into my sleeping bag. I had no desire to view his private stuff.
He kicked me for the third time. “What the hell are you doing, dude?”
Inside the sleeping bag, I could only hear his muffled annoyed voice. I still tried to sound manly, but the high-pitched exclamation I uttered was anything but. “You’re changing your underwear!”
“You’re really gay, dude.”
The tent shook once more.
“Time’s up, guys!” Edward announced. “What are you waiting for? Wanna me to drag you guys out? You know I don’t care if you guys are naked. Don’t try my patience.”
I emerged out my sleeping bag just in time to see Daniel rushing out of the tent, crawling on all fours through its entrance. I saw a flash of his bare legs and wondered if he had exited naked, and whether he was daring enough to do it specifically to piss off Edward. I suddenly feared Edward would indeed drag me out of the tent by the legs or the arms. I had slept in yesterday’s muddy clothes, which offered no risk of being exposed, but the idea of being dragged out didn’t appeal to me so I crawled out of the tent after Daniel.
Outside, he’d gotten to his feet and was rising his hands over his head as if showing his innocence. “I’m ready, I’m ready! If you’re gonna chew somebody out, dude, talk to Justin. He’s still inside his sleeping bag.”
“I’m not, I’m here.”
Thankfully, Daniel was not naked, only halfway dressed. He’d put on the t-shirt and changed into t
he clean underwear, but nothing else. He wore no jeans, socks, or sneakers. Without a word, he started toward the forest. His long russet curls fell down to his shoulders, sailing after him, and I swore his hips swayed as he marched. The white briefs he wore stuck tightly like a second skin, biting his rounded buttocks. Edward scowled and grimaced. I raised my eyebrows. Daniel might think I was gay, but only because he hadn’t checked himself in a mirror lately.
“Wait, Daniel. Where the hell you going?” Edward called. “I want you to take care of breakfast.”
Daniel kept walking but turned his head back. He chewed his lips, which immediately turned pulpy and reddish. “To visit the loo, can’t I? Or do you want me to do it in front of everybody, dude? Wanna see how big my thing is?” As he talked, Daniel raised his upper lip and took a hand to his thing, holding it over the tight briefs— compared to Yago’s bulky thing under his red bikini that night, Daniel’s bundle looked like a toy one.
Edward extended his arm and snapped his fingers at Daniel several times. “Speed it up! And put some jeans on, you look pathetic. You’re the cook this morning. I want breakfast ready at half past seven. Ham and eggs… and hot coffee. Make sure you wash your hands first. I don’t want your germs all over our food.”
Daniel stopped in his tracks and spun to face Edward as his jaw dropped and his eyes went wild. He pointed a finger right to the middle of his chest. “I’m the cook? That’s not fair! You always press me too hard, dude. I made breakfast yesterday.”
Would there ever be a day when Daniel wouldn’t complain?
Edward rolled his eyes. “Yesterday we weren’t even here yet. Don’t try to be a smartass. But I’ll be fair. Justin will help you fix breakfast.”
“Justin? That loser? Thanks a lot, dude!”
# # #
While Daniel paid his visit to the latrine, I went back inside the tent and changed into clean clothes, taking advantage of my little private moment. The second pair of sneakers I’d brought fit me better, but still not perfectly well—the promise of another day of aching, shrinking feet made me wonder if my feet would survive this outing.
Daniel put on jeans and sneakers—still no socks—and went right to Edward to complain about having me as his cooking partner, but Edward raised an open palm in front of him. “Talk to the hand.”
Daniel snorted. He cursed under his breath and strode toward the fire pit around where we’d gathered, sang, and cooked last night. I darted and stood in front of him. “Tell me what to do, Daniel.”
He didn’t answer but shoved me away.
Only a dead heap of white ashes and coal remained of last night’s campfire. Beside it, somebody had already piled a good amount of firewood. Daniel stopped in his tracks by the firewood and tucked his russet curls behind his ears with an affected gesture. He stooped, scooping up the bundle of firewood in his arms—his face turned red and the veins on this forehead popped with the effort. I rushed over and extended my arms. “Let me help you. Gimmie some.”
He didn’t. Instead, he invaded my personal space until his face was a few inches away of mine. He stood so close that when he spoke, I could smell his morning breath. “Here’s the firewood, dude. Stop making a fool of yourself and light up the fire. I’ll pick out the stuff we need for breakfast.”
Daniel released the bundle and all the firewood dropped in a rain of heavy logs. I sprung backwards so they wouldn’t crush my feet. “Hey!”
Daniel tucked his curls once more behind his ears and cast a sideways glance at Edward who was busy. He hadn’t witnessed the incident. Daniel gazed back at me with a smirk. “Be careful with the firewood, dude. It’s heavy. Could break your foot.”
I glared at him and ground my teeth. “I will.”
I actually wanted to slap him on the face, but it would have been too girly. A true guy would have punched him in the stomach, but I had no idea how to do it. Besides, I didn’t know how I’d explain to Edward why I’d suddenly hit Daniel.
Daniel sniggered and then walked to the little, third tent. It warehoused all the boxes of supplies and the cooler where the dairies and the perishables were locked. He kneeled and stuck half of his body inside.
“Hey, Daniel, wait! How do I do it?”
His voice came muffled from inside the tent. “Do what?”
“The fire. How do I light the fire? Got any matches?”
“You don’t need any matches, dude. Don’t you know how to light a campfire?”
“Of course not! I’m not a Boy Scout.”
“Then why did you come? Besides, everybody knows how to light a campfire. Don’t be such a dumbass, dude. They even do it on TV.”
Somebody placed a hand on my shoulder and I cringed. I was Edward. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Standing so close to him, I could smell his strong aroma. He oozed a sweaty tang he’d tried to conceal again with lime cologne, or maybe with antiperspirant. Both odors blended into a scent that flooded my nostrils. I found it oh-so appealing it brought out a certain and reckless animal instinct inside me. My skin tingled, and the memory of both of us endlessly shaking hands on Grandma’s street caused the butterflies in my stomach to flutter even faster. This crazy idea of holding Edward’s hand again came to my mind. Of course, I wouldn’t do it.
Last night’s memories assailed my mind and I recalled how I’d gotten carried away in that lavish bathroom. The freakin’ awesome sensations I’d experienced made me crave for a real make-out session with Edward. While I relished the idea, it sorta felt like I was betraying Jenny.
“You don’t need matches.” Edward released my shoulder and kneeled by the campfire. “You only need to blow. C’mon. I’ll show you how to do it.”
His aroma had completely disrupted my thinking process. I knelt beside him only because he’d commanded it, not conscious of the reason why. I rubbed the back of my neck and looked from the heap of white ashes to Edward. The rest of the world had disappeared, and I would continue to be oblivious to it as long as I kept breathing his arresting aroma.
Edward pointed at the heap of ashes. “See those white ashes? Gimmie your hand.”
Give him my hand? Had I heard right? Did he actually want to take my hand ? The words sounded like heavenly music in my ears. Before I could react, Edward grabbed my hand. I couldn’t help but shiver when warmth traveled from his body to mine. The butterflies in my stomach went wild. Holding my hand, he passed my open palm a couple of inches over the ashes. I even felt him softly squeezing my hand, but then I wildly dismissed the thought. My body was playing with my mind. Probably for the too small shoes, maybe for sleeping in stinky, muddy clothes, but most likely because of that whirlpool of desire I’d awakened inside me last night.
“Can you feel it?” he asked. His tone sounded matter-of-fact, but he must have been a little thrilled because his hand trembled barely beyond perception while he held mine, both our hands hovering about an inch over the pile of ashes. I wondered if he’d meant the current that flowed between us, the warmth he kept conveying through his hand. Could he feel my warmth streaming in the opposite direction?
No. He couldn’t mean that, not if Daniel stood within earshot. So, if he was not talking about his exhilarating touch, I couldn’t figure out what he wanted me to feel. Besides, I couldn’t concentrate with my hand in his and breathing his primeval, sweaty, lime-like aroma.
“Feel? What?”
Edward squeezed my hand a little. “Can’t you feel it?”
Then I realized he meant the ashes. The ashes irradiated heat and he wanted to know if I could feel the heat. My voice sounded stupidly surprised when I answered. “The ashes are warm.”
“Bingo, Justin. You need three things to light a fire: heat, fuel, and oxygen.” Edward raised a finger with each item. “The firewood is your fuel and there’s heat left from yesterday’s fire as you have verified. So we only need to blow oxygen on it and we’ll have the fire back.”
His explanation just turned interesting. Still daydreaming, but a bit more focused on
his comments, I tilted my head sideways. “How do you blow oxygen? From a tank?”
Edward chuckled. “No. Watch the expert.” He released my hand, kneeled by the fire pit, and stooped with his cheek almost touching the ground, his face turned towards the fire pit.
When he released my hand, I felt disappointed because I knew I wouldn’t have another opportunity to hold his. Guys don’t hold hands, and he’d only taken mine to show me that the pit was still warm. I think I sighed.
Edward gently blew the ashes and a cloud of whitish dust rose. All of a sudden, I found myself inside a mist where I couldn’t breathe but cough. I tilted my body backwards and waved a hand in front of me, attempting to dissipate the cloud. Edward blew again and another puff of ashes went airborne. I couldn’t bear it anymore and jumped to my feet. I backed off two steps. The third time Edward blew, a crowded mesh of red freckles materialized on the heap of ashes and coal. Even some little flames.
Edward looked at me and raised an eyebrow. A cocky smile spread on his face. “See? Campfires are like girls. You need to be tender but firm, and they’ll fall in love with you immediately.”
He laughed, but I frowned. Was he thinking we girls were cattle?
Edward blew again and more flames appeared dancing on the coal as if by magic. It hit me what he’d done and I found his trick clever. Blowing oxygen tenderly but steadily—firmly—had accomplished the task. He had a point. With hindsight, I noticed he’d been tender but firm with me since we’d first met, so I’d fallen for him… somehow. Crafty. At first, I rebelled against the idea, feeling like he was trying to steal me from Jenny. On second thought, I thought this behavior was so normal for him he might have been carrying it out without even noticing it—like flirting with the ticket girl at the Greyhound station without a real interest in her. On third thought, I discovered I enjoyed being the object of this tender-but-firm, unconscious, attention. Then I recalled I’d been pretending to be a boy so it was totally impossible Edward had paid me attention, even unconsciously. My heart shrunk. He’d only been a good Boy Scout helping a fellow in distress.
Amber Eyes Page 14
