“You just can’t suppress the scientist in you, can you?” Ryan snickers, earning a glare from me.
“Are you faulting me for wanting to know more about the fruit that’s keeping us alive?” I raise my eyebrows. Then I walk over and stretch out on the warm marble beside him.
“Not at all; I’m just enjoying watching you act like yourself, despite everything.” His snickering has turned into a smirk.
“Everything considered, this has been a rather pleasant trek through the unknown wilderness. With regular baths and food, it’s starting to feel more like a vacation than being stranded in the middle of the woods,” I muse.
“I know what you mean. I can’t regret the day you risked your life and met Caper.” Ryan sighs and turns to watch Caper happily swinging from branches and vines.
“I hope you’re not getting overprotective of me again,” I chastise and roll over to face him.
“I always feel protective of you. That’s why I get so angry when you intentionally put yourself in harm’s way. I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed something to happen to you.” His eyes are suddenly distant and full of pain, as if he’s reliving one of those moments, but imagining the worst actually happening.
“Hey,” I say softly, placing my hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present. “I feel the same way about you, Ryan. You’ve put yourself in harm’s way plenty of times, and I was sick with worry for you all of those times, too. I just didn’t rip your head off for doing it.”
“I’ll try to control my temper if you try to stay out of trouble.” He reaches over and grabs my hand in his. His bright green eyes are fraught with pain, concern. He reaches up and brushes a stray hair out of my face. My pulse quickens, and I realize I’m holding my breath.
“Purr!”
I jump back, startled. Caper has jumped right into the middle of us.
“I think he’s telling us that it’s time to go,” I breathe.
We quickly get dressed in our recently dried clothes, and gather our things in silence. Things suddenly feel strained between us. Neither one of us talks about it or even dares to bring up the topic, but we both realize we almost kissed. The entire morning’s walk we just suffer through each other’s silence.
In the afternoon, Ryan finally speaks up. Apparently, he wants to pretend that nothing at all happened, because he starts asking random questions again.
“So what’s the first thing you want to do when you get back on base?” Ryan asks.
“That’s an easy question. Hug and thank Andi. How about you?”
“Well after I thank Andi, I guess I’d want a long, hot shower. Don’t get me wrong; I like the swimming, but nothing can compare to a boiling hot shower. How about you? What would you do after thanking Andi?”
I pause briefly, daydreaming about a hot, steamy shower, then respond. “Hmm, that question’s a little harder. I’m going to say curl up with a good book in one of the library’s comfy chairs. After that, I would head down to the dance floor to watch all our friends dance.”
“That sounds nice, but I wouldn’t let you get away without dancing yourself.”
He grabs my hand and proceeds to twirl me around, but my ring catches on his hand and scratches him.
“Are you okay?” I reach out and grab his hand to examine it.
“I’m fine,” he snaps, snatching it back. “There’s no blood.”
He continues to scowl, even though he doesn’t look like he’s in pain or anything.
I let him fume for a bit as I get lost in my own thoughts. Neither of us had said the first thing we want to do is to see Kelly or Brody. In fact, they didn’t come up at all. What does that say about us? I’ve hardly thought about Brody since the flood. I’m more confused now about my feelings for Brody than I was the night he proposed. After all, it’s not normal to have a panic attack when you’re asked to marry a person, and I never did say yes to him. Am I so shallow that a few weeks away from him have erased all my feelings? I don’t know what to think anymore.
Several days pass before Caper greets us again. We had started to worry. Caper, on the other hand, acts as if nothing unusual has happened. He simply leads us to more berries and water, eats, and then plays in the trees. I’m thankful to have a bath and be well fed again. During the last few days, Ryan and I haven’t had any luck finding a side river that could lead us to berries.
After washing, I toss the soap to Ryan, and I stretch out on a rock facing the water. I watch Caper swinging from the trees, and I laugh at his playful enjoyment. Then my eyes are drawn to Ryan rubbing the soap on his chest. I still marvel at how a shirt can so easily hide such perfection. His torso looks as if it has been carved by an artist, and there’s hardly any hair on his chest. I’m wondering how pleasant it would feel to run my hands across that chest when I notice Ryan staring back at me. I blush and roll onto my back, trying to pretend I had been lost in thought. I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of the sun beating down, warming the rock and my skin. I pretend that is the reason for the sudden heat I feel.
“Are you enjoying the view this morning?” I hear Ryan chuckle as he lies down next to me.
I try to feign innocence. “Huh?”
“There’s no use trying to wiggle out of it. I caught you looking.” He stares straight into my eyes, daring me to deny it again.
“Well you’re no underwear model, but you’re not too bad to look at,” I admit, blushing at my own brazenness.
“Then I guess it’s only fair that I get to look back at you,” he teases, then props himself up on one elbow and looks me up and down in an exaggerated fashion.
“Like you haven’t looked already. I’ve caught you peeking before.”
“Okay, so it’s true, but you’re not so bad to look at either.” As he continues to tease me, he grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet. I’m acutely aware of his scantily clothed body so close to mine. He runs a finger down my arm and toward my hand. He stops abruptly when he gets to my ring. He turns, grabs a container, and starts picking berries. I have a sudden urge to fling the ring into the water, but a stab of guilt restrains me.
The rest of the day we walk in silence. Again, I am lost in my thoughts. What am I doing? I love Brody. Don’t I? It’s only been a few weeks since I saw him, but I’m having a hard time remembering what I even like about him.
I chastise myself for being so fickle and convince myself that I’m only responding to the proximity being stranded has forced upon Ryan and I.
Chapter 21
The next day there is no sign of Caper, so we continue our walk without him. It’s a hard day of walking; the sun is beating relentlessly down on us. We’re clearly experiencing a heat wave. We break early for lunch when we find a well-shaded area. Ryan decides to continue with his random questions during lunch. “So what do you think you’d be doing this very moment if you had stayed on Earth?” he muses.
“Not getting annoyed by someone asking stupid questions,” I grumble as a bead of sweat drips down my neck.
“Oh come on, you can do better than that.” He adds, “If you still had your parents with you, what do you think you’d be doing?”
After grumbling my displeasure, I give it some honest thought. “Hmm. I would have dragged my feet and procrastinated applying to colleges, and, as a result, missed all the deadlines. So I’d end up in community college for my first year or two, until I could figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up.” I pause, realizing my timeline is way off. “But right now I’d still be in high school, so… I’d be sitting in my English Literature class, rolling my eyes because the kid next to me is whining that a two-page essay on the book we just read is just too much work.”
“Yeah, I’d roll my eyes too.” He chuckles. “Good details. Sounds like you had your whole life planned out.” The sarcasm in his tone is unmistakable.
“Now it’s your turn. And no copying my answer,” I caution.
“No problem. I already know what I’d be doing. It’s summ
er break, so I’d be working with my dad and oldest brother at the factory. Because there isn’t any money for college, it’s also where I’ll be after graduation. I’d take one course at a time, when I had enough money saved up for it. Right now I’d be in the lunchroom, trying to read a book, but my brother and his friends would keep disrupting me, taunting that books are for sissies.”
His voice suddenly sounds sad.
“You miss them.” I place my hand on his shoulder, unsure how to comfort him. There is no ‘right now’ for our families: we lost them long ago.
“I do. Despite our differences, they were still my family,” he admits, looking around uncomfortably. “We should get moving before we’re here all day.” He shakes my hand off his shoulder and stands. Apparently the discussion is over. He keeps his back to me as he packs, but I notice the unmistakable sniffs that tell me he is crying.
I gather my pack and silently walk after him, but after traveling just a short distance, I stop and look around. The most incredible smell vigorously assaults my senses. I can’t describe it. It’s like a combination of all my favorite smells meshed into one wonderful symphony. I look around for the source and notice a beautiful flower, towering above the underbrush. It looks like a blue tiger lily. I hear Ryan’s annoyed huff in the distance, but pay it no heed. My senses are overwhelmed with the scent the flower is emitting. Without thinking, I walk towards it, my hand outstretched.
“Brett!” Ryan yells. He hurtles forward, grabs me by the wrist and tries to pull me away. Just as my fingertips brush the flower, three black barbs shoot out, but they land in Ryan’s hand instead of mine. “Damn it!” he swears and storms away.
I run after him. “Ryan, slow down and let me look at your hand!”
He doesn’t respond to my plea.
“What the hell were you thinking? Haven’t you learned anything since the first day I met you?” I flinch at the hurt, accusing tone in his voice.
“I’m sorry. You’re right; I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what came over me. The flower’s smell was just overpowering. Didn’t you notice it?”
His shoulders relax a little. “No. My nose is stuffed.” I watch his shoulders hunch back up. “But smell or no smell, there’s no reason you approach any unknown plant or animal like that.”
“I know. I really don’t know what happened. My brain stopped working.” I choke the words out as I fight back tears. “Please, Ryan, I feel horrible. I should be the injured one, not you. Please stop, so I can look at it and get the barbs out. Please,” I beg.
“Fine.” He grumbles and sits down, crossing his legs.
I quickly grab my first-aid kit and look for tweezers. I wish I had something for pain. The barbs will hurt more coming out than going in. I grab his hand and examine the three barbs. At least they hit the area between his thumb and pointer finger; there’s less flesh there to dig into. When they were in the flower, they resembled ordinary stamen: but up close it’s easy to see the jagged hooks jutting out.
Ryan wipes a tear from my cheek with his free hand. “You look like you’re the one in pain,” he laughs dryly.
“I should be. I deserve to be. This is all my fault.” My voice cracks.
“I won’t argue with you on that point, but beating yourself up over it isn’t going to help anyone.” He says it with more sympathy than I deserve.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologize.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s not even hurting right now.” He smiles as if to prove his point.
I shake my head. “But it will. The only way I can see to get these out is to pull.”
“So pull. I can handle it.” He puffs out his chest, trying to make me laugh.
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He nods and closes his eyes, bracing himself in preparation. Using the tweezers, I get a firm grasp on the first barb. I used my free hand’s fingers to press down the skin around the barb; I hope to at least minimize any tearing. Then I pull. It comes out with surprising ease. I repeat the steps with the remaining two, and they come out just as easily. I line up the three barbs beside each other and examine them. They’re all the same size and look intact.
Over my shoulder, Ryan comments, “Strange response from a flower.” He reaches around me and scoops the barbs into a sample jar.
“Defensive response?” I question.
“That would be my initial guess, but if so, why didn’t the barbs cause pain? Even when you pulled them out, it barely hurt. I’m guessing seed dispersal, but it looks like this flower was unpollinated. Look, there aren’t any seeds on the end of the barbs.” He holds up the jar so I can see.
“I’m just glad it didn’t hurt more. I feel bad enough already,” I say as he rubs his fingers over the three red dots left in his hand.
“Enough of the apologizing; it’s getting really old. Just promise me the next time you smell something like that, you’ll hold your nose instead of trying to pick it.” He lightly punches me in the arm and snickers at me.
“Promise.” I smile back at him, and finish cleaning and bandaging his hand. He tries to argue the bandage is too much, but I’m not chancing an infection. So he gives in to placate me.
The next morning there still isn’t any sign of Caper, but we have plenty of berries from the other day, so we don’t worry. We pack up camp and get an early start to our day. We can already tell it’s going to be hot again.
It’s nearing lunch time when I first notice Ryan’s pace is slowing. I ask him if he wants to rest, but he insists he’s fine. A little later, I notice him stagger. I force him to stop and at least drink some water.
“Let me see your hand. I want to examine it while we’re stopped.” I reach out toward him, but he steps away.
“No, it’s fine.” His tone is too defensive.
“Then you can have the enjoyment of telling me that you told me so. Now give me your hand.” I grab his hand, but he yanks it back from my grasp.
“I’m fine,” he mutters.
“Ryan, you’re burning up!” I place my hands on his forehead, and then on his neck. His skin is on fire. “Give me the hand now!” I demand.
He reluctantly places his hand in mine. I slowly unwrap the bandage, and then I gasp. The whole area where the barbs were is swollen and red. I carefully press my fingers around the area, and he winces. “So what was your plan? To keep ignoring the pain until you passed out?” I look at him sternly.
“No; I was hoping we’d find a side stream we could follow. Stopping here without any source of food or water won’t do us any good,” he insists.
“That’s a good point, but you should have told me. We should at least rest in the shade until you feel a bit better.” I open my pack to get him some berries.
“No.” He tone is flat and unyielding.
“Ryan, don’t be unreasonable,” I plead.
“I’m not. I didn’t say anything because having you worry about me won’t do either of us any good. But now that you know, I should tell you that it’s getting worse. Wasting time resting will just allow it to progress more. We can stop and eat a quick lunch, but then we need to be on our way again.”
“Ryan—” My voice trails off. I don’t know what to say.
“If it gets to the point where I can’t go on, you’ll have to leave me behind,” he commands somberly.
“Don’t talk like that! You know there’s no way I could leave you behind.” I feel my heart speed up and my mind race as I realize just how serious the situation is.
“You may have to,” he warns.
“I’m not discussing this. We’re going to find a side river and rest there so you can fight this infection.” I turn my back on him and grab the berries out of my pack. At least having lunch will force him to rest a little while. I’m furious and frightened by his suggestion. I can’t even think about it.
We eat lunch in silence. I spend the whole time alternating between glaring at him and examining his face for signs of deterioration. When we’re ready to le
ave, he has trouble getting to his feet. I start to feel panicked.
As we walk, I scan the woods for material to make a stretcher. I’ve already decided. If he goes down, I’ll drag him with me. I find a long branch that looks sturdy enough and I quickly strip the side branches off. When Ryan gives me a questioning look, I explain that it’s a walking stick. Surprisingly, he takes it and uses it.
By the time I find the second branch, Ryan’s condition is too bad to even notice my actions. He’s having a hard time walking in a straight line, and he no longer picks his feet up all the way to take a step, so he keeps stumbling. I offer him a shoulder to lean on and am frightened when he easily accepts it.
A little while later he asks if we can rest for a moment, then proceeds to pass out. I manage to catch him as he spins toward the ground, and guide him down carefully without causing any more injuries. I want to crumble with my panic, grief and worry, but I know I don’t have time for that indulgence. I grab the sleeping bag and duct tape and quickly assemble a stretcher. I load him on, and take a moment to re-examine his hand. It’s now oozing a yellow substance from the dots the barbs made. The angry red skin is now a mix of red and purple blotches, and the skin feels hard.
I quickly pick up the stretcher and begin dragging him. I need to get us to water and build a fire so I can sanitize a knife to drain his wound.
Despite my best efforts, my pace with Ryan is painfully slow. I keep stopping the stretcher to give him some more water and check his hand. He wakes a few times and tries to argue that I should leave him, but I won’t listen.
It’s dusk when I finally find a side stream. I get my flashlight out of my pack, duct tape it to my arm, and continue. Usually the walks along the side streams are short and quick, but tonight it seems to take an eternity. By the time I find the lake and the berry patch, the stars are shining brightly in the night sky.
Verita Page 21
