by Kate Sundara
‘No! Please!’
‘You’re not losing me,’ I say through the sound of torrent returning. ‘I’m part of you!’
She flicks open her eyes, searching for me, but sees Wil walking towards her through the rain.
‘Hey!’ he greets her with a cheery beam, joining her under the shelter. ‘This weather!’
She’s wide-eyed and wordless.
‘You alright?’ he asks, seeing she’s welled-up, although the water all around them hides the extent of her tears. She can’t speak.
‘Mia?’
She gives a quick little nod, wipes her nose. ‘Just a cold,’ she manages.
As Wil speaks about the weather, the world, she slowly comes back to the land of the living, noticing his new cowboy look, Stetson, leather boots. ‘You been out boot scootin’?’ she finally asks him.
‘Horse riding.’ He grins and her heart goes a-flutter, remembering itself ahead of her brain. Rain drips off the brim of Wil’s hat. ‘Anyways, I’m headed to the store. Getting some supplies for tonight when the boys finish work. Figured we’d have a few drinks, ride out the storm.’
‘Storm?’
‘The one I was just telling you about!’
Mia looks at him, baffled.
He smiles at her askance. ‘Sure you’re okay?’
‘Sorry,’ she tells him. ‘Must be this hot-cold air making me crazy… I can’t think straight.’ Neither can I after what just happened. ‘I’m not quite with it.’
The rain eases off, eventually stopping.
‘They issued a severe weather warning for the valley,’ says Wil as they start towards the store. ‘Reckon it’s gonna hit big. Valley’s famous for its weather inversions – it’s what creates those amazing misty morning sunrises, though I don’t expect you’ve witnessed many of those,’ he teases, not knowing of her mornings sleeping outside doors or scampering streets in the first glow of dawn.
Mia looks up at the pink-brown sky as a flock of sparrows dart behind a cherry-tree. ‘What do they mean severe?’
Wil grimaces, clenches his teeth. She laughs at that. ‘Gale-force winds, sheet-rain, thunder and lightning. Still, probably a good thing we’re getting the downpour. Summer storms can spark forest fires if it all gets too dry. I was gonna call you later anyways. Do you remember me saying I’d be house-sitting for my married friends, looking after their horses while they’re in Europe?’
‘Yeah. Oh, you’ve moved in already? That explains your get-up!’
Wil laughs. ‘Been doing it a couple days. The owners said Nate, Ramsey and I can stay there rent-free for a whole month. How awesome is that? It’s a great place, Mia, you’d love it. Why don’t you join us tonight? Ruth’s welcome too.’
‘Ruth’s made plans with Corey. Besides, I don’t want to gate-crash your boys’ night.’
‘No way, Mi! You’d totally not be crashing, those guys think you’re swell. In fact, Nate’s taken quite a shine to you; it’d make his night if you were there.’ Wil gives her a wink, a cheeky smile.
‘Oh.’ Her heart sinks. Nate?
She stands outside the store, needing a breather to process her too-many feelings.
‘Tonight… think about it,’ Wil tells her and goes inside.
Mia doesn’t have to think about it, she wants to be with Wil every minute she can, that much she knows, but she still needs a push – my work here not yet done.
Embrace love. Don’t shirk it off because of me… My words resound in her head.
Waiting outside, she sees the sun, breaking through, shine on puddles. Slowly she allows herself to imagine the dream she’s been suppressing: daydreaming of pulling off Wil’s wet clothes – his fresh sweat, the warmth of his smooth damp body.
‘So are you coming?’
‘Oh… um…’
Wil’s holding a grocery bag and a box of beer – she offers to take the bag of snacks.
They walk out of town, down quiet residential streets, the moisture in the atmosphere clinging to their bodies, sweat beading between her breasts, her cotton shirt sticking to her skin. Wil carries the box of beer high up on his shoulders, she swings the little bag by her side.
‘So I haven’t seen you in a few days, how’ve ya been? Hey, would you look at that!’
She looks to where he’s pointing, ahead of them a magnificent double-rainbow arching the road.
‘I dreamt this! The double-rainbow! You and I… !’ she stops herself, not wanting Wil not know she dreams of him.
‘Y’know, rainbows are significant symbols in dreams?’
‘They are?’
‘Sure! They represent an important union, a bond, a connection – it’s like a bridge in the sky.’
She starts to blush, all those muddled Wil-dreams coming back to her: the one where she’s kissing his neck in his Chevy, the one where she’s breathing him in so deep, so close, she can’t get close enough…
‘Mia?’
‘Huh?’
Wil laughs a little, she gulps.
‘I was asking if you’d ever seen that before? A double-rainbow, in real life, not just in dreams.’
‘What dreams?!’ she quips defensively, but Wil isn’t in her head like me. ‘Oh… no, I’ve never…’
‘Pretty rare to dream about a rainbow. That’s an excellent sign. A double-rainbow, huh… Must be extra great for us,’ he grins. Mia recoils. She spies a lawn of daisies – he loves me, he loves me not…
‘How do you know so much about dreams?’ her voice is reticent and higher-pitched.
‘I don’t. My roommate in freshman year was into lucid dreaming and interpretation. He’d read this dream dictionary. That’s one of the few I remember. I’ve got a mind for collecting facts. Guess you could say that makes me a geek, huh?’ Sensing accusation in his smile, she looks away. His sex appeal is like an image hidden in the dots: once you find it you can’t believe how you ever missed it. Rosa was right – she is learning to see in more depth; in Mia’s eyes Wil’s shape-shifted from geek into sexy cowboy into the most desirable of men.
‘Of course, you know what the rainbow represents in the Bible…?’
‘Yes – no – I can’t remember.’
Wil smiles. ‘After Noah’s flood. It was the sign there’d never be another flood like it – a flood that drowned the world.’
‘That’s some reassurance for tonight,’ sniffs Mia.
All of a sudden the heavens burst open again, warm rain lashing down upon them. Squinting, she tries in vain to shelter under the grocery bag. ‘Where’s your car?!’ she shrieks, laughing.
‘I lent it to Nate and Ramsey for working at the mall.’
‘You’re too kind,’ she tells him. ‘No really – you are!’
Wil takes off his Stetson, pops it on Mia. She grins, looking cute in it.
The air fills with a party of smells, of nature and earth – smells that are real and never change – Oh, sweet summer rain! With water on her body, a sense of the perennial and primal stir within her and she remembers – really remembers – how much she used to love to swim. She catches another smell – the musky scent of masculinity – the rain brings it out of Wil’s clothes and fills her nostrils. Her tongue starts to water and sting with want, her want to taste him – just like she wants to swim – but she can’t so she holds her head back and tastes the rain.
When Wil smiles at her she lights up. She laughs for no ostensible reason – openly, sound drowned out by the downpour. He laughs too, water dripping from his brow. The rain lashes down, soaking them silly, cascading off Wil’s hair, channelling down their necks, clothes growing heavy and increasingly see-through. The first rumble of thunder echoes in the mountains. Mia feels at one with everything, with the elements, with him, that cosmic oneness she felt when they were camping, but this time without the weed. She has no need for drugs – she’s giddy, sexy, excited, every part of her abuzz. She glances at Wil. He’s screwing up his face. She giggles at his expression, melting his frown into a smile. She thinks
how gorgeous his lips are as they part, as he laughs wetly and defeated, his laugh running through her centre, careening through every erogenous zone in her body. How it would feel to have those lips upon her…
He catches her watching him.
‘How far away is this house?’ she cries.
‘It’s Huckleberry Farm.’
‘Huckleberry?! That’s miles away!’
‘Ever ridden bareback?’
‘Horses?’
He nods. They’d both ridden on Tess’s family ranch, but with all the gear.
‘Sure, I can ride bareback. I grew up in the countryside. Why?’
‘Great. You’re just the person I need. Put your things in here.’ Wil opens his backpack, pulls out two reins and bridles and sets the beers inside instead. Mia stashes the snacks and her own things on top. Wil walks her off the residential street and up a narrow grassy path where they climb over a stile. Mia sees two horses grazing in a field. The rain peters off again.
She gleams. ‘For real?’
‘Only if you’re willing. The owners heard about the weather warnings, phoned to ask me to transfer the horses to the other paddock – the more stable stable.’
‘The stable stable?’
Wil laughs a little with her. ‘Right, before the storm hits.’ He stretches, that hesitant man-stretch, that subconscious self-aggrandizing flirtation Ruth identified. Suddenly Mia understands why the primitive gesture has survived millennia: because it works! Her eyes are drawn to his chest, his muscles, his torso, his white T-shirt, now transparent, sticking to his form – which happens to be in great shape from hiking, climbing and all those other healthy whole- some activities that likely contribute to keeping him so well-balanced. She wants to kiss his body, to feel it against her own, wants to touch him so badly she might have to bite her hand. His gesture raises her hope and she has to curb her smirk, assured that, although he’s reaching upward, it’s she who has the upper hand.
‘What is it?’ he enquires.
‘Nothing,’ she smiles to the sky. ‘How are they to ride?’
Wil makes a little sound, something between a yawn and a sigh. He brings his arms and body back to a normal position, all much to Mia’s private amusement.
‘They’re good natured. Tess and I used to take her mom’s horses out all the time when we were in school. Are you sure? I was gonna do two runs, two rides…’
‘Try and stop me!’ She pops the Stetson back on Wil, enjoying how handsome, how dashing he looks in it. Mia takes the reins and bridle, strokes her pretty horse, then, standing at its shoulder, holds the mare’s head and starts tacking up. Wil does the same with the stallion. ‘The scary part,’ she grimaces, working her thumb into the side of the horse’s mouth until it takes the bit.
‘I heat it up in my hands first,’ says Wil. ‘The metal’s more enticing when it’s not so cold.’
Mia takes a few moments pushing the horse’s ears through the hoops, measuring the throat latch, fixing the reins. ‘Well…’ she surmises, checking all the straps. ‘That’s it. How you doing?’
‘Got it. You know how to mount bareback?’
‘Yup. I’ve tried all different ways.’ Mia stands at the horse’s side. ‘This is my favourite position,’ she says innocently, then straight away starts to blush again, overriding her slip-of-the-tongue with, ‘Your legs are longer, should be easy.’ Wil lets her comment slide. He’s not the kind to make smutty comebacks. Mia skips and leaps up onto the mare’s back in one sure swoop. Wil looks impressed by her competence. ‘I’m better at climbing horses than trees,’ she jests. ‘The forest… When we tried to escape the bear?’
Wil glimpses her almost darkly. The mare dances a little turnabout with Mia high on her back.
‘Alley-oop!’ he says, swinging up onto his horse. He doesn’t quite make it, falls back to the ground. He looks at Mia and they both burst out laughing. Wil gives his second shot more oomph, leaping up higher, mounting this time.
‘So which way, cowboy?’
A flash of pink in the distance, a roll of thunder in the mountains. Wil gestures. Mia squeezes her heels against the mare, pulls back the reins and they’re on their way. They ride side-by-side, gently rocking back and forth as the horses walk on. Mia rubs the mare’s chestnut coat, spreads her hand through the mane. Wil notices that.
Another cloud breaks above them, water lashing down again. Arching back, face to sky, Mia swallows the rain. Wil laughs, water dripping everywhere. Mia catches him glance at the curves her body makes where she’s sat, thighs straddling the mare. She’s keen to calm her disarray, to blow away the cobwebs, to let the wind run through all that’s just happened and all that’s happening now. She spurs on her horse with a little squeeze, giddy-upping from a trot into a canter into a gung-ho gallop across the fields. Hair, manes and tails flying behind them, colours speed by as they race each other – chase each other – Wil charging in front of Mia, Mia in front of Wil. Through rain and mud and grass and bracken and wild snapdragons they zoom, leaning forward, grasping onto the horses, gripping their legs around steed and muscle all the way to the borrowed house.
Spent and exhilarated, they slow into a rocking walk as they reach the destined paddock.
‘Good job,’ breathes Mia, winking at Wil.
‘You met your match,’ he pants through a smile.
‘I love to ride!’
Wiping water from their eyes, they dismount, laughing at how their thighs ache and burn with friction as they lift the reins up around the horses’ necks for safekeeping.
‘Nice swagger,’ she teases him as he goes to close the gate.
He laughs, not turning back. ‘Thank you, Ma’am.’ It takes a few steps to start walking properly.
‘This the place?’ She looks to the stone house. ‘Wow!’
‘You should see inside! In fact, you’d better dry-off right away if you have a cold.’
Mia sticks to her story. ‘Yes.’
‘Come this way…’
* * *
The air is alive with animal scents. Mia is full of lust and life tonight.
She takes in her surroundings, inside the borrowed house all lovely wood and stone, dried flowers in vases, an inviting hearth in the living space. Wil wades into the kitchen, rests the beers on the workbench with a humid groan that makes Mia aware that her body’s warmed-up. He runs upstairs and runs back down with towels and dry clothes.
‘These will be huge on you,’ he says looking down at the folded pile. As she goes to take them, he glimpses her chest, bra now visible through her shirt. He starts to flush, she turns to hide her smile.
Back in the bathroom, she looks at herself in the mirror. Rejuvenated by their ride in the rain, her face looks younger than her twenty-two years. Fresh as a daisy.
She considers a shower, but decides against it. She feels amazing and powerful, enlivened with soil and rain and Wil’s look still lingering on her skin. Her body bares minerals and ions reminding her of the freedom, simplicity and joy she felt on the island and of naked native bodies who felt the sun on their skins in days of old when they rode unreservedly on this great open land. She wants to stay attuned to those half-dreamt memories…
She takes Wil’s shirt. It smells good, smells of him. It’s light and sensual on her bare body, she pulls it tight around her, accentuating her curves, her long back, her ample breasts, making herself look thinner than the baggy shirt has her appear. She tidies up the black smudged around her eyes, rearranges her hair.
Let yourself be loved… my words speak to her again.
‘This place is stunning!’ she remarks, coming into the living-room.
Wil’s crouched at the fireplace, balancing logs. ‘These stone walls keep–’ he halts, noticing her standing in his too big shirt, her long legs bare and smooth, combined with a come hither smile.
He laughs awkwardly.
‘You gave me two shirts, no bottoms,’ she tells him.
‘Oh… sorry…’ They stand staring at e
ach other.
Wil runs upstairs again.
Coming back down, they exchange garments but not a word. There’s an awkwardness, a rigidity that wasn’t there before; Mia hopes it’s because her part nakedness is turning him on, not because it’s inappropriate and intimidating…
He goes into the kitchen while she pulls on the slacks he just gave her.
‘Aren’t you going to get changed?’ she asks, joining him.
Wil stacks bottles in the fridge. She watches him from behind, damp, sandy, messed-up hair in the nape of his neck like a new-born lion cub, those claw marks slowly healing on his forearm.
‘I need to put the horses in the stable,’ he answers, matter-of-factly.
Fire is crackling in the hearth, rain drumming on troughs outside, wind whipping. Everything is natural and free and flowing – over flowing – except for the both of them in here. She wonders if she pushed things too far. Out in the rain they were wild, laughing and joking. She wants to be like they were out there, to be themselves around each other like they’ve always been. Is this the sexual tension Ruth referred to, or is that just wishful thinking?
Wil keeps stacking bottles, passes her a drink, barely looking at her.
‘My favourite!’ A black-cherry alcopop. ‘Did you buy these for me?’
He doesn’t reply.
‘They’ll be shaken-up good after that ride! Yeehaa!’ Mia is putting on a cowgirl voice since being in character is easier than being herself right now. Wil doesn’t laugh, and she feels an idiot, confirming that something has definitely changed. He takes her bottle of cherry, cracks it open, hands it back to her. It fizzes over, she sucks away the foam as it spills over the top. She catches his eye, he looks at her, looks away.
‘I need to put the horses in the stable,’ he reiterates.
‘Want me to help you?’
‘No, you’ll get wet.’ He grabs his Stetson, marches back out into twilight and rain. It’s almost rude the way he storms out, and Wil isn’t rude, never to Mia. Inexperienced as she is, she’s now certain that his standoffishness is down to one of two reasons: either because he wants her, or because he doesn’t – in which case, she has upset him by abusing their friendship with her unwanted titillation. Both statuses plausible, she can’t die not knowing which it is.
