Silk

by Heidi McLaughlin

  I slip the container back into my bag and lean back on my palms to take in the overwhelming magnificence of the sight before me. Only this time, I feel her with me. I watch the flight of a small bird cross over the rushing water to land in the trees of one of the islands hugging the edge of the falls.

  A tap on my shoulder breaks the spell I’m under. It’s Conner. I follow the direction of his hand as he points to the van that brought us here. I watch as Adam climbs into it before I stand and walk over with Conner.

  Adam is sitting in the back row, his face focused downward, as he scrolls through the pictures he took. When we get back to the lodge, he follows me at a distance to our suite.

  “I’m going to take a nap,” I inform him once he walks into the lounge.

  He nods, walking over to the sofa to upload his pictures from the day.

  I lock my door and slip over to the door to my balcony. Stepping out onto it, I see Conner already waiting for me by the pool. I hold my finger to my lips to keep him from saying anything.

  After double-checking my bag to make sure I have my phone, wallet, and room key card, I carefully hug the pillar connecting my balcony to the first floor patio below it. Conner is there, his hands gripping my waist, as he eases me the rest of the way till my feet touch the ground.

  “Are you sure about this?” he whispers, glancing up to my balcony.

  “As I’ll ever be.” I grin, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the main entrance.

  A car is waiting for us to take us back to the falls and the Victoria Falls Border Bridge. We have day visas issued to make our way onto the bridge. We aren’t going to Zimbabwe, but the bridge is considered a neutral zone between their borders.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Conner asks as we near the platform.

  I shake my head. “I want to do this by myself.”

  He drapes his arm across my shoulders. “You’ll be great. I’ll take a bunch of pictures.”

  When we get to the platform, we get registered. The two young men working tell me to take off my jewelry, so I slip my earrings, giant watch, and charm bracelet into my bag. Conner holds it for me as I go first.

  I have a momentary panic attack once I’m on the ledge. What if the cord breaks? What if I get hurt? I’m so scared that I can barely move. Arthur, our bungee jump assistant/psychiatrist, has clearly been in this situation before.

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Arthur calmly assures me, his hands covering the death grip I have on the railing.

  I whimper. I want to do this. I just might cry while I do it.

  From his experience, he must know my whimper means I still want to jump. He helps me to the edge of the platform and reminds me of what we covered during registration, or at least the highlights.

  I glance back at Conner once I’m on the edge of the platform. He snaps a picture of what I’m certain will not show any type of game face. I have personally never considered bungee jumping in my bucket list of things I wanted to do. I’m here for Ally. This is something she talked about wanting to try.

  I think back to the bird crossing the falls this morning before I spread my own wings and leap. For a whole two seconds, my momentum takes me outward over the Zambezi River. I’m weightless. I’m free.

  Then, I’m screaming my head off as I fall. Screaming is pointless as air rushes upward into my mouth before I clamp it shut. Having never fallen from such a height before, I am unprepared for how fast I fall. My eyes fail at absorbing the blur of the falls and foliage as I fall toward the rushing river. When I reach the full stretch of the bungee, I feel my body jerk upward, only for gravity to pull me down again.

  The upward and downward jerk of the bungee is making me feel nauseous. As proud as I feel that I have done it and how close to Ally I feel in that moment, all I want to do is get back onto the bridge before I throw up into the river.

  I try to push that feeling aside, to physically make myself be present in the beauty surrounding me. Taking as many mental pictures as I can, I feel the tug of being pulled back up to the platform.

  “You did great.” Conner congratulates me once I’m safely away from the edge.

  He passes me my bag and asks if I can take some pictures of his jump. This is not his first time. There’s no whimpering and no hesitation when Arthur gives him the go-ahead to jump.

  His initial leap is breathtaking. I snap picture after picture of his outstretched arms as his muscular legs propel him off the bridge. His face isn’t always facing my direction as he falls, but I think I’m able to capture at least one shot of his expression. It’s an expression of pure joy. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel like throwing up.

  Once he’s back on the bridge, the first words out of his mouth are, “Want to go again?”

  I can’t help but grin. “Never again.”

  He holds my hand as we walk back to the Zambian border together. There’s nothing romantic in the gesture. I just know, no matter where Conner and I end up in the world, I made a lifelong friend today.

  Once we’re on our way back to the lodge, Conner turns to me. “Think he knows you’re gone yet?”

  I cringe. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  His hand finds mine again as we make our way back into Royal Chundu.

  Adam’s back is to us as he is frantically speaking to someone at the front desk. The attendant, seeing us walking in, points in our direction.

  Adam spins to face us, his eyes first finding mine before coming to rest on my hand in Conner’s. “Where the fuck were you?”

  Conner starts to say something, but Adam cuts him off. “I was asking Aubrey.”

  I straighten my shoulders and meet his gaze head-on. “I went bungee jumping.”

  Adam tilts his head to the side and blinks. The three of us stand there in an awkward standoff while Conner and I wait for Alex to respond. All he does is nod his head before turning on his heel and leaving Conner and me standing there.

  I squeeze Conner’s hand before dropping it to chase after Adam. I have to dig in my bag to find my key card.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” I glance around our lounge before marching into his room.

  He’s sitting on his bed with his back to me. His voice is low when he asks, “Do you have a death wish?”

  I’m not sure if he means by bungee jumping or following him. “No.”

  He turns to look at me. “Why would you run off like that? In a foreign country? Do you even know if that place was safe?”

  I sink into an armchair by his door. “Would you have let me go if I asked you?”

  His shoulders sag. “I don’t know. Maybe not.”

  When he drops his face into his hands, I jump up and rush over to him. I kneel in front of him and pull his hands down, so I can see his face. The look in his eyes haunts me.

  “I didn’t know where you were.”

  Whatever fun I originally convinced myself giving him the slip would be is gone now. I feel awful, knowing that I scared him. It was one thing in London. I was so annoyed at him, not that I haven’t been annoyed at him since. It’s just that I know he has my safety as his main concern.

  “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I just—”

  He lifts me up into his lap and buries his face in my neck, effectively cutting me off. I have known him for only ten days. I don’t know how to rest in his arms, his breath hot against my skin. The whiplash of emotions from him has rendered me incapable of understanding what I should do.

  His breathing calms as he clings to me. When his breath becomes a soft tickle on my throat and not a hot gust, his arms loosen. I move to slip free from his grasp, resting my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. His hand reaches up to cover mine.

  “Are you still upset with me?” I ask, standing between his legs.

  He looks up at me, brown hair falling into his eyes, and he shakes his head. “Just promise me you’ll talk to me before you go off on some dangerous date again.”

>   “It wasn’t a date,” I argue.

  He smirks at me, so I repeat myself.

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  He drops his hand from mine and puts his hands on my hips, gently pushing me a step backward, so he can stand. “I saw you two holding hands.”

  “He was just being supportive. It’s not what you think.”

  He pushes his hair out of his eyes and looks at me, almost as though he’s deciding whether to trust me or not. After today, I know I have given him no reason to trust me ever again.

  He changes the subject, ushering me out of his room. “Did you like bungee jumping?”

  “Not something I have any interest in ever doing again,” I admit sheepishly. “Have you ever been?”

  “Once, in Florida. I remember being exhausted after the adrenaline wore off.”

  His words are almost magical. As soon as he says them, I struggle to keep my eyes open. He almost smiles as he leads me across the lounge and into my room. I pause, seeing the door is open.

  “The hotel manager has a key,” Adam answers my unspoken question before sitting me on the edge of my bed.

  I watch him, detached and half-asleep, as he sits me up, unzips my windbreaker and slips it off me. He then kneels at my feet and unties my sneakers before sliding them off my feet. I feel like a rag doll in his grasp as he lowers me until my head rests on my pillow. He eases the blanket from under me and gently tucks me in. The last thought that crosses my mind as he lowers the mosquito netting is how confusing this side of him is to the Adam I met in the lobby.

  Too soon, the covers I’m hugging are being pulled from me as a bossy Adam attempts to wake me up.

  “It can’t be morning yet,” I mumble, burying my face into my pillow.

  “It’s only been three hours.”

  I lift my head. “Why are you waking me up if it’s only been three hours?” I can’t be held responsible for the whine that accompanies my question.

  He looks boyish and up to no good as he tugs on my arm. “Come on, you have to see this.”

  He helps me to a sitting position. I wipe sleep from my eyes as he tries to hurry me along.

  “Do I need shoes?” I ask, each word punctuated by a yawn.

  He starts to put my shoes on for me, but I push him away, already embarrassed because he tucked me in like a little girl earlier.

  Once my shoes and windbreaker are back on, he leads me outside to the back of the lodge by the pool. I cringe, looking at the pillar I shimmied down during my escape, before he directs my attention skyward.

  “It’s called a moonbow.” His breath tickles my ear. “The light from the moon is reflected off the mist of the waterfall.”

  The moon is full, the mist an arched halo over it.

  “Beautiful,” I breathe.

  “I know,” he agrees. Only, he’s looking at me, not the moon.

  I’m awake now.

  We stand side by side for maybe fifteen minutes before I acknowledge the emptiness that is my stomach. “I’m going to head inside and grab a late dinner.”

  He turns to follow me. “I’ll hang out with you.”

  I still feel guilty about earlier, so him being nice isn’t helping. “You don’t have to.”

  He almost smiles. “It’s cool. I want to hear more about your adventure today.”

  The restaurant area is still open but not fully staffed. I order a simple chicken dish with the sauce on the side and some rice. I sip my water while we wait for it to come out.

  After telling Adam about my jump, he asks, “The way you describe it, it doesn’t seem like you wanted to do it. Why did you?”

  I pause, not wanting to share the whole Ally thing with him. “Remember my tattoo?”

  He nods. “How’s it healing?”

  I haven’t needed to bandage it since the last time he did it. I’ve just rubbed cream on it a few times a day.

  “It itches,” I admit before continuing. “So, the tattoo was for my aunt. Bungee jumping was something she always wanted to do.”

  He drums his fingers on the tabletop before leaning toward me. “Both times you’ve run off, you were doing something for your aunt.”

  I dip my head in acknowledgment.

  “Tattoos and bungee jumping…”

  I nod.

  “She must have been really cool.”

  I bite my lip as I try in vain to blink back the tears, but the floodgate opens, and they stream down my face.

  “Shit,” Adams says, pushing his chair closer to mine. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tucks my face into his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “She was so cool.” My words are muffled against his shirt.

  As I cry, it hits me that he’s stroking my hair, like he’s petting me. I don’t know why I find that so funny in that moment, him petting me, but I start to laugh. He must question my sanity as I laugh-cry on him. When I get the hiccups, it only makes me laugh harder.

  His arms grip my shoulders as he pushes me backward to look at me. “Did you take anything with Conner?”

  My mouth drops, and I promptly hiccup in his face.

  “Are you on drugs?” he continues.

  I drop my head to the table and cover it with my hands, mortified. “I haven’t taken anything. I promise,” I manage to get out between hiccups.

  He rubs my back as I try to pull myself together. When I straighten, he offers me a napkin to dry my eyes.

  “Were you laughing?” he asks cautiously.

  I’m no longer laughing or crying, but the stray hiccup still plagues me. I look up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “It felt like you were petting me, like a cat or dog, when you started to rub my hair. It caught me off guard.”

  I glance at him and he has the decency to look embarrassed. I mean, he was petting me.

  “I was just trying to comfort you,” he stammers.

  I reach out to touch his arm. “You did. You made me laugh.”

  He sags back against his chair as my food comes out. I’m starving. I make no attempt to disguise my desire to shovel the entire plate into my mouth in one bite.

  “You’re hungry,” he says dryly, watching me.

  I nod, mouth too full to politely reply. I should be embarrassed. He is one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen close-up. I guess cry-laugh-hiccuping all over someone will remove fear of future embarrassment.

  When I’m done eating, we walk back to our suite together. I email my parents while Adam uploads some pics from the trip to his Twitter page.

  “Why don’t you have a blog?” I ask, looking up from my phone.

  “I like the one hundred forty character limit.”

  I don’t tweet, so he turns his computer to me to show me what that means. Each tweet is kind of like a text message with a picture attached. Short and sweet.

  He closes his laptop. “We have a long car ride ahead of us tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep.”

  Just thinking about where we’re going tomorrow makes falling asleep seem impossible. It’s a four hundred mile trip from Livingstone to the Kapani Lodge in the Luangwa National Park. We’re going on safari.

  Chapter 15

  Conner meets me in the morning, whispering in my ear that he’s going to kiss my cheek to piss off Adam. We exchange email addresses, and I promise to keep him posted on our timeline on the off chance he can meet up with us when we reach Australia. In what seems to be great a personal strain, Adam manages to shake his hand and wish him well before we leave.

  Crossing Zambia by car proves to be an adventure all on its own. The speed our driver goes varies from what feels like fifteen miles per hour to a time trial for NASCAR. At one point, we’re stopped indefinitely as a herd of puku blocks our way. I look over at Adam, who’s hanging out his window, camera in hand, taking pictures.

  When we finally make it to the Kapani Lodge, all I want to do is get into our room and collapse into bed. That’s until I see the room setup. The beds, while separ
ate, are right next to each other with only an area wide enough to walk in between them. Maybe if they each had their own mosquito netting, it wouldn’t look so intimate. Tonight and the two following it, Adam and I will be underneath the same net.

  Suddenly feeling less tired, we make our way to the outdoor deck. I’m relieved when I see the menu with so many Western courses on it. Adam is adventurous and orders a local fare while I have a hamburger and french fries.

  After dinner, we watch the sunset before going back to our room. I decide against telling my dad how this room is laid out. I know he assumes it’s a suite with two separate rooms like the Royal Chundu. I get ready for bed first while Adam tries in vain to get a wireless signal.

  He gives up, not wanting to keep me up, as he swears at his laptop under his breath. I’m pretending to read a book as I watch him walk from the bathroom over to our beds. He’s shirtless, his basketball shorts hanging low on his hips. My mouth feels dry as I forgo my farce of reading, setting my book on the nightstand instead.

  He starts untying the net around my bed first. He struggles with the first knot, his abs right at my eye level. He must notice I’m watching him.

  “If you want to help, you can untie the netting around my bed.”

  I gulp, getting out of bed and making my way over to the far post of his bed. We work in parallel, moving from post to post, until we meet in the middle. He holds his netting up, so I can pass under it. He checks the edges, making sure there aren’t any gaps, before getting into his bed. We lie there, each on our side, facing each other, neither moving to turn out the light.

  I break the silence. “Kinda feels like we’re camping, doesn’t it?”

  He looks up at the tent-like netting surrounding us. “It does. Do you like to camp?”

  “I haven’t been in forever. I remember liking it, but I think I was a girl scout the last time I did it.”

  He almost smiles. “You were a girl scout?”

  I grin. “Don’t sound so shocked. Were you a boy scout?”

  He gets a faraway look in his eyes. “A long time ago.” Then, he reaches over and turns out the light, promptly ending our conversation.