Skydiving, Skinny-Dipping

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  When we decided to retire to the tent, Len took our separate sleeping bags and zipped them together into one big sleeping bag.

  I undressed down to my skivvies. As did Len. It wasn’t guaranteed, but I figured some sexy times might take place. We managed some canoodling—touching, kissing, and whatnots—but it appeared we’d both been too worn out from all the hiking and firewood scavenging to do much more. We actually passed out in each other’s arms pretty quickly.

  The next morning, we dressed. “We’re going hiking,” he said.

  Len got the coffee going, along with the eggs and bacon he’d so smartly packed in the—I kid not—generator operated cooler before we left home, while I prettied myself up. Yes, we were out in the middle of nowhere, but I still had a gorgeous fake boyfriend to try and keep for as long as I could keep him. And wrinkles waited for no woman. Even we young ones could expect them to creep over our faces if we didn’t take precautions. Thus, I slathered cream over my skin.

  The beautiful man known as Len handed me off a cup of coffee when I screwed the last cap back on the last of my bottles. We sipped from our mugs and then when they were finished cooking, we sipped from our mugs and ate.

  We made sure the fire was completely out before we set off. I used a tub to wash the dishes, then dumped the water onto the embers.

  Thick brush turned thicker the farther up the mountain we hiked. It wasn’t like we hiked the Sierra Madres or Rockies, but for a girl who never hiked up anything until recently, I began wheezing when the incline took a steep turn.

  Being the perfect gentleman guide, he stopped for me every time (and there were a lot of times) I needed to stop. He paid enough attention that I didn’t even have to say anything. Though I supposed breathing so heavy it sounded like a chainsaw buzzing while leaning against a tree for support might have been a good indicator. Full disclosure: I didn’t sound like a chainsaw buzzing. That was an exaggeration. I did, however, stop on several occasions to rest.

  Several hours later—yes, my frequent breaks added a whole lot of time to our trek—with sweat-glistened skin, we reached the summit. Breathtaking. Of course, it would be even more beautiful out west, but we weren’t out west, and I couldn’t think of a more beautiful sight in the whole of Michigan.

  We turned around to take a selfie with the vista behind us. Len and I at the top of our world. Not the world, as there were summits far greater. Baby steps. I’d take our world for now. Happy with the pictures, we turned back to take in the view once again. I felt small and insignificant staring out at the wide, wide wilderness. As it was cooler from the altitude, the sweat on my skin didn’t just cool, but chilled me.

  Still, I couldn’t get myself to leave.

  The loose rock underfoot held different ideas. One tiny pivot to take another gander at the gorgeous man standing next to me and his reaction to the beauty set before us. That was all it took. My foot slipped and I flailed my arms in an attempt to catch my balance. It didn’t work. My other foot slipped right out from underneath me, sending me sliding down over the side of the rocky surface.

  Scratches scraped across my skin, gashes opening up. Those stung, but if I kept sliding, stinging wouldn’t matter. Not on this stretch of mountain. This rock laid flat enough to let me slide right off the side.

  My life—well, not really my whole life—but my regrets passed in front of my eyes. That night I’d made a pass at Harrison. The catalyst for every bad thing to follow occupied most of my thoughts in those few seconds before I plunged over the side to certain death.

  I think I might have heard Len screaming. But with a head filled with regrets, including not getting the chance to see how long I could stretch this thing with Len, it was hard to focus on anything else.

  Dirt and rocks caked under my fingernails as I tried futilely to slow the short descent. My hips slid over the side when a hand gripped my upper arm. My body wanted to keep falling and it felt like my shoulder popped out of joint.

  That didn’t matter either. Len had lunged for me, landing on his belly. The top-half of his torso bent over the ledge. One strong hand separated me from death. I didn’t want to die. The strain on his face said everything. He might have had me now—and I wasn’t going to be confused with a beached whale anytime soon—but with my weight and the slope of the rock, his hand started slipping.

  His toes hooked under a thin rim of rock, the only thing keeping us alive, or at least me alive. The muscles of his calves contracted to the point they vibrated. His whole body went taut under the strain. And then we locked eyes.

  “I got you, baby. I’m not letting go,” he said. I think he tried to convince himself, more than for my benefit.

  I couldn’t speak. Tears choked off any words.

  He started to pull. As my legs dangled, I had nothing to help push. The strain and fatigue on his face was evident. But he kept pulling in a solitary effort until my thighs cleared the rock and I could bend my knees. Then I was able to gain enough traction to push. Len wiggled his body to move backward. Slowly, together, we moved me back up the rock until I hit safety.

  Len saved my life.

  He saved my life.

  I burst out in a fit of wails and tears. Clutching Len’s T-shirt, I buried my face against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around me.

  “Sh—hiccup—shh…” He hiccupped.

  My gaze found his. Red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. That made me cry even harder. Something about seeing a guy cry got me in the feels.

  Once we were both together enough to stand, he helped me up. My arm hurt like a son of a gun. I just knew my shoulder was dislocated now. And as for those big gashes, which still bled quasi-profusely, well, with my nerves continuing to heighten from my near death, the stinging became profound.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve got some bandages in the backpack. Let me wrap that gash.” He pulled a roll of bandages, medical tape, and peroxide from the backpack he wore. He poured the peroxide over all my cuts and scrapes and then wrapped my wounds until my leg looked like a mummy.

  Still, my shoulder kept me from being able to move. I hated being so weak. We had to go, so I swallowed hard and pushed past the pain. Leaning against him, we hobbled slowly back down the mountain. Every movement made me wince. But I thought I hid it pretty well.

  It was dark by the time we found the campsite. Len had to use a flashlight to guide our way for like half the journey. By the time he set me down close to the firepit, I felt like I was going to puke. Pain. Who knew it could cause such a reaction?

  As Len started building a fire, I bent over and puked. Or I tried to puke. Nothing really came up. But that man was back at my side in an instant.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Part of me wanted to blow it off, keep him from worrying. Yet I couldn’t lie. Not to Len. He’d saved my life. “I dislocated my shoulder,” I admitted.

  His eyes grew huge as a scowl spread across his lips. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “You’ve been dealing with a dislocation this whole time? Kam, I know how to pop it back. With the jobs I do, I had to take triage training.”

  Why didn’t I think of that? Oh yeah, because I’d almost died and I’d been in pain ever since.

  “I didn’t think of that,” I said.

  A soft chuckle escaped him. From the harrowing experience up at the summit, we’d gotten back to the point where he could chuckle. Sneaky. I’d gotten so lost in his chuckle that I neglected to notice him position himself to my opposite shoulder.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded. Now or never.

  He wrapped himself around me, hands locked at my armpit, and the best I can describe it, it sort of looked like an intense Heimlich maneuver. In and up in one smooth motion. It hurt so much worse.

  Two tries, we actually heard it pop back into place. I felt it pop. The pain fled as soon as joint found socket. Instantaneously. Sure, it stayed sore, but I’d take
sore over outright pain any day of the week.

  He kissed me then. Not one of his lust-filled Len kisses—well, okay, not totally one of his lust-filled Len kisses—there was relief mixed in there. I detected warmth, too.

  Just as quickly as he swept me up, he abruptly let me go. “Fire,” he said and set about finishing getting the fire going. He placed a pot real close, close enough for it to heat up hot. Then he opened two cans of beef stew and dumped them in the pot, along with a can of peas, corn, and carrots. He even added seasoning from a seasoning mix he’d brought. The man seriously thought of everything. Really, how had he managed to pack all this with an hour of prep time before we’d left?

  Ten minutes passed before I sat, my leg stretched out in front of me, with a bowl of stew on my lap. Len tore off three soft rolls from the package and handed two of them to me. One he dropped in his bowl so he could tear himself off a second.

  In relative silence, companionable silence, we ate our supper. He twisted off the cap of a dark stout beer for himself but handed me a pineapple cider instead. Bellies full, he cleaned up the dinner and lay down with his arms folded behind his head as a makeshift pillow. I lay down next to him.

  “Thank you,” I said. “You saved my life today.”

  “I thought I was going to lose you, honestly.” A soft breath of air left his nose. “I’d never been so scared in my entire life.”

  “Join the club.”

  “Don’t ever do that to me again, Kam.”

  My back went taut, the lightness leaving my words. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. There were loose rocks. I slipped. It was an accident.”

  “I know, jeepus, I know. How would you expect me to go on?”

  “It’d be tough, but as it wasn’t your fault, you’d find a way.”

  “I’d find a way,” he muttered. “Right. Just don’t do it again.”

  I knew it was still his fear talking, so instead of arguing, I agreed. “Okay, Len. I won’t do it again.”

  “Woman, you are so going to be the death of me.”

  As I didn’t understand what he meant by that, I ignored it. I think both of us wanted to partake in some post-‘I almost died’ nookie, but my injuries kept him from acting on his urges.

  Len gave my wounds a thorough looking over when he changed the wrap to apply antibiotic spray. Consensus: I wouldn’t need stitches. The gashes scabbed over nicely.

  Since I continued to heal, I managed to talk him out of us leaving so soon. As long as no infection set in, why not stay? I had ibuprofen in my purse for any lingering pain. Len took it upon himself to make sure infection wouldn’t worm its way in. And honestly, being up here away from civilization, every moment getting to know Len more, at least the things he was willing to talk about meant a lot to me. The man was seriously guarded when it came to talking about his brother. That was a conversation ender, so I stayed safely away from that topic. It came at a great cost to my heart. I would whittle him down, though. Eventually he’d spill his guts and smile while doing it. At least I hoped he would.

  The problem with so much one-on-one time, though, was that I came to the realization at the end of the week when we started packing up our campsite that my serious crush had taken a bad, bad turn.

  Somehow, well, I’d managed to let myself fall—I mean it wasn’t that hard. He was a great guy, treated me like I mattered—I’d fallen pretty hard for Len.

  Spending almost half a month with someone continuously at your side, these things happened. How did I expect to make it through our six months abroad now? Watching him woo other women with a screaming crush would’ve been bad enough. But doing it in love with the guy? In unrequited love with the guy?

  “You truly are fearless, Kams,” he said, packing up the last of our gear we’d hiked down to the truck. “You almost died, yet stayed up on that mountain with me. I’m so proud of you.”

  His words felt more profound for me now and my skin blushed from the compliment. “I love—” I gasped. What did I almost say?

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was going to say that I actually love camping.” I covered. Phew. “Never thought I would, but up here, despite the nearly fatal mishap, I loved it.”

  “Yeah, despite that.”

  Thirteen:

  Ten hours after we left the mountain (we stopped to eat, stretch our legs, and take pictures) we turned into his parking spot in front of the condo. To say I was whipped would be an understatement.

  There’d be time to unpack the truck tomorrow. For now, we both needed a shower and to veg out with a movie until we passed out.

  Exactly what we did. But not before Len uploaded our entire trip to my social media accounts. After all, we’d kept radio silence for a week.

  At the end of a third round of morning nookie, my cell rang. My mom.

  “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”

  “Sweetie, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

  “Sorry, I went camping and we were in the middle of nowhere. No cell reception.” That was the honest truth.

  “It’s your father,” she said. Her voice cracked.

  My breath left my lungs.

  I swallowed. “Is he… okay?”

  “Yes, I mean, no. Yes and no. He had a small heart attack. He’s in the hospital. They’re putting a stent in his artery today.”

  “When?”

  “At four.”

  I gripped Len’s hand and squeezed.

  “Kam, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked in one ear.

  While my mom asked, “Who’s that?” in the other.

  “He’s my—um—Len.” I didn’t want to lie to her and say he was my boyfriend, but I didn’t want to admit he was fake either.

  “Can you come home, Kami? I need you,” Mom said, as if I wouldn’t be showering and rushing out the door as soon as I got her off the phone.

  “Of course I’m coming, Mom. What kind of daughter do you think I am?”

  “The best kind,” she said. “Love you sweetheart.”

  “Love you too, Mom.” I disconnected and stood from the bed naked and uncaring. He’d seen it all numerous times.

  “Is everything okay?” Len asked. “Your mom okay?”

  I nodded. “It’s my dad—he had a heart attack. He’s having surgery today. She’d like me there.”

  Len shot up from the bed. “Then let’s get ready.” He started pulling clean clothes from the drawers, tossing them into my overnight bag he rescued from the closet. Then, to my surprise, he started piling his clothes on top of mine.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Baby, shower,” he said.

  “I’m going… but what are you—?”

  “You think I’m going to leave you in the lurch when your dad is sick? Give me some credit. That doesn’t make me much of a boyfriend, now does it?”

  “Well, no, not if you were real, but we’re—”

  He cut me off again. “Kam, wake up. We’ve never been fake. I liked you for a long time, wanted to get to know you. So, when you gave me my opening, I took it.”

  “You? We? We’ve never been fake?”

  The next thing I knew, Len’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist, drawing me in close. Then he kissed me. Hard and deep and sweet. A real boyfriend kiss. Because apparently, he’d been my real boyfriend all this time?

  “Never been fake,” he answered.

  “Then why did you let me think it for so long?”

  “Well, to be honest, I thought you’d catch on by now. I’ll give you anything you need, baby. If that means letting you pretend we’re fake for a while…” He shrugged.

  “So you’re coming home with me?”

  Instead of answering, he kissed me a second time, then swatted my butt to get me moving. I showered, then while I dressed, he did. All our camping gear still in the bed of the truck, we headed to my childhood home.

  I loved my family, but it was hard to go back, to be there without my brother, so I rarely did. My folks understood
. With Len to hold my hand when the memories got rough, I might be able to handle it this time.

  At the end of a two-and-a-half-hour drive, we pulled into the parking garage at the hospital. My mom texted me she was in my dad’s room. She tacked on his “Looking forward to seeing you, kiddo. xo” at the end. Took more than a heart attack and impending surgery to keep my dad down.

  Since in her text Mom had already told us which floor and room to find them in, we bypassed the help desk, walking straight for the elevators. With the hospital complex being so huge, we had to find the right bank of elevators first.

  My mother’s face completely lit up when Len and I walked into the room. She jumped from her chair next to my dad’s bed, tears overflowing her worried blue eyes, and ran to embrace me. She hugged and hugged.

  “Missed you, Mom,” I said.

  “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

  Dad cleared his throat. Admittedly, not as strongly as he’d have cleared it before, which sent a jolt of worry to my gut.

  “Hey, Dad.” I released my mom and walked over. Bending down, I kissed his cheek.

  “What? No hug for your old man?”

  “I didn’t want to…” My intensions mattered not. That was Dad’s way of saying he wanted a hug and I dang-well better give him one. So I bent in and as softly as I could, hugged my dad.

  “Good to see you, kiddo,” he whispered in my ear. Then he turned to look at Len. “Now, who is this gentleman who escorted my daughter up here?”

  Len walked up to my dad’s bed, hand outstretched. “I’m Len, Kam’s boyfriend.”

  “Kami,” my father chided, “why didn’t you tell us you hooked yourself a man?”

  “Because I was worried you’d say something like ‘I hooked myself a man.’ Imagine my chagrin.” I said, hooked myself a man in my stickiest sweet Scarlett O’Hara impression.

  Dad laughed until his laugh turned to coughing. The nurse heard and popped her head inside the room. “Do not rile him up.”

  Ouch. Scolded by the nurse.

  Mom, Len, and I held in our laughs until she disappeared out the door again, then we lost it.