We soon left the spot he had killed my little friend. Maybe tapping into my vast, repressed reservoir of hate for Vincent, or love, or both, gave me a surge in energy because for the next mile or so I easily kept up. By the time we reached the spot he had wanted to camp my clothing was totally drenched in sweat, my feet were black and red from the dirt and blood from wounds on each, but I had made it! I collapsed and just laid there, staring up at the pale blue sky and trying to breath normally again. Vincent came up and urged me to rest for a while so I could set the camp up – by myself! I took a deep breath and wondered why I had looked forward to this trip anyway. I had not had the time to really enjoy the nature and I feared this journey would be one of just trying to survive rather than relax.
However, there would be no time for self-pity. I got up and started setting up the tent. After that, I gathered some wood, built a fire and took the food out. Bethany and Vincent spent most of the time talking while I worked, and it was not until I was finished that he came over and complimented me on the camp. I asked, “What about the sleeping arrangements?” He said, “You have to get used to primitive conditions, you have to get those years of suburban comforts out of your system, but it won’t be so bad – you will see.”
I cannot say my anticipation was positive after hearing that – I was exhausted and felt chilled, and it was not even dusk yet. After a few moments of siting there Vincent started discussing his views, for the hundredth time, of how civilization was doomed and only a select few would endure. In the middle of his lecture Bethany asked me, “Can we go for a short walk?” Surprisingly Vincent merely took a deep breath and motioned for us to leave. As we strolled Bethany took my hand and we talked. She did not mention the tortoise incident but did apologize in advance for any discomforts we had, or might experience, on this trip. She asked if I would be okay and I said I would. Then she stopped for a moment and began rubbing her left arm and closed her eyes. I asked, “Are you okay?” She sat down on the remains of a large dead tree and replied, “Will you stop worrying about me? I’m just a little tired.” I suspected there was something she was not telling me but after a moment she arose and said, “See? Just a little tired from the hiking. I guess I am just getting old. Tell you what; we have a little time before sundown if you’d like to keep walking.” It was uncomfortable since my feet and ankles seemed swollen but if she was up to it. I replied, “Sure!”
She asked me to try to be understanding of Vincent and that he had the best intentions for me. As we came to a spectacular view overlooking the immense dry landscape stretching for miles she took my hands and eagerly asked, “Someday would you like it if we made the property into a ranch and raised horses? I really love horses. Have you ever ridden before?” I replied, “No but it sounds fun.” She maintained her enthusiasm, “I yearn for the old western way of life. Maybe next summer you and Vincent can put up a fence. As a child I learned to ride and I would love to teach you the skills.” I looked to the horizon and said, “This is like a dream come true. I feel so connected to nature and to you. Do you think destiny is written into our very molecular structure and we are all striving to find out who we are?” She laughed, “Now you sound like Vincent. I love nature. It is beautiful. I am not sure it talks to us though.” She seemed to like my appreciation for all things natural but she did not seem to be quite as deep or analytical about it. She seemed to be one of those people who knew what she liked but never really thought about why she liked it. That was okay I thought – as long as we shared the same passion for the outdoors.
We returned to camp just as the sun was setting over the tops of the hills. Vincent had made the fire larger and was cooking some sort of rice and meat dish in a pan. This was actually the first time I had ever seen him preparing any meal. I suppose he figured he could take on new roles out in the wilderness. It was odd I had never really noticed the extent of gender division of labor in the household – I just took for granted Bethany made the meals. I remembered that when I was had lived with Nicole she cooked most of the time but I always tried to contribute – and Matt and I always had tried to share equally. Yet maybe there was less confusion in this sort of arrangement. I had always felt that maybe Nicole resented my lack of skills in the kitchen for instance. This way each person knew their duties and did not have to stress over trying to divide everything.
The food, although simple, tasted like a gourmet treat after a long hard day. A cool breeze began to blow and I could see the tops of the pine trees swaying gently against the backdrop of the bluish/black sky. I could really feel the magic of nature that evening – something I had not felt for months. And in a strange sense I felt a freedom I had not remembered with Nicole and Matt. Yet what made this freedom unique was that it was not connected to a simultaneous fear of loneliness. And maybe with Vincent and Bethany it would be tough, but I really had nobody depending on me anymore. So, ironically, it was a weird form of freedom in slavery.
As I stared at the sky the stars of the Milky Way were becoming even brighter than at the house. It was marvellous to contemplate my place in the universe – for a moment I almost felt like I could astro-project my soul across the expanse of space if I concentrated hard enough. The moment was interrupted though by Bethany asking, “What are you thinking about Jennifer…your spirit’s original home?” I smiled and leaned against her and replied, “Yeah, how did you know?” She did not reply to that but said that maybe we should all get some well-deserved sleep. I started walking over to the tent, suddenly remembering my not seeing a sleeping bag for me but assuming this was all taken care of. Then Vincent started explaining the arrangements.
He and Beth would sleep in the tent. I waited for what I was supposed to do and then he shocked me. He pulled out what appeared to be a dog chain with a lock on the end. He told me to go over to the tree a couple of yards from the fire and there he proceeded to fasten one end to the tree and asked me to stick out my right leg. I asked, “Is that totally…?” but I stopped myself as he looked up with a scorn. I kept quiet and did as he said as the cold metal was wrapped around my leg and the lock was fastened into place.
Vincent began to explain his intentions, “Okay…” He stopped and looked to see if Bethany was in the tent. Then he continued, “Okay Melanie, here’s the deal. You have just enough wood sitting here to maintain a fire to keep you warm, and keep animals away from our camp. Here’s a blanket for you – but if the fire goes out I will guarantee that you will be quite cold this evening. So the choice is up to you, get some sleep but take responsibility to make sure you wake up and do your duty, or sleep and allow the fire to go out and freeze. It’s up to you young lady.”
Just as I was about to ask him to let me at least have something to drink before going to bed he turned, said good night, and disappeared into the tent. It seemed that evening I was going to sleep on the cold dusty ground. I just hoped there were no scorpions, or any other disgusting creature sharing my area this evening. I knew scorpions and snakes were attracted to the heat of the body and that caused me quite a bit of concern.
There was nothing I could do about my predicament so I spread out the blanket, put a few pieces of wood on the fire, and laid on the ground. I again looked at the sky but my body was getting cold despite the warm, crackling fire a few feet away. I could not move closer though since I could wind up getting burnt. Then I realized that if the fire got out of control, and ignited the dry grass and shrubs just a few feet away I would be burned alive with no way of escape. I felt such anxiety that I could no longer enjoy the marvels of the stars. I soon fell asleep though, despite the cold…and the worry.
The next thing I remember was waking up way early in the morning. The sky had that pre-morning glow and as I tried to regain my consciousness I turned to see how the fire was doing. There was no fire. I immediately gathered some of the embers that were still glowing, and tried to bring life back to the fire, but it was no use. I finally gave up and moved my blanket as close as I could to the warm ground. I was fe
eling really, really cold. I was also worried about how Vincent was going to react to my letting the fire go out. I suddenly remembered how he had been the day before – killing the tortoise, hitting me…and now leaving me out in the cold. I was starting to get angry but it was hard to concentrate when you have to roll yourself up in a ball just to keep from freezing to death. I tried desperately to go back to sleep, dozing off here and there, but it was not until I could see some rays of the sun appearing that I finally fell into a deep sleep.
The next thing I experienced was a sensation that only registered as extreme discomfort until my brain was able to interpret that Vincent had drenched me with ice-cold water! I woke up with a scream! He just stood there in silence, staring at me Bethany poked her head out of the tent and asked, “What happened?” but Vincent motioned her to get back inside. She complied.
He shook his head and started scolding me, not in a loud voice, but certainly showing his displeasure, “Melanie, do you realize there are situations where your irresponsibility could have cost you your life? I hope you take this lesson to heart and don’t ever allow such a thing to happen again!” I sat there freezing, my clothes soaked in cold water and mud. He turned around and headed back to the tent. I begged him, “Can you at least unchain me so I could go to the bathroom?” He ignored my pleas. I sat there shivering, and wondering what I had ever done to wind up like this. Yes, the proverbial “why me” question dominated my mind. I stood up, sat down again, no position helped to get me warm. Then I looked at the now dead fire and called out, “Can someone give me some matches and maybe I can restart the fire so we can at least cook breakfast?”
Vincent came out of the tent, and threw a box of matches at me. “Good luck!” he yelled and went back in, I assumed so he could stay warm. I was so angry with him – the kind of anger you feel when you believe you have been treated really nastily by someone. I could even feel hatred at that moment, as I tried to use my stiff, cold fingers, which I might add had turned somewhat blue at the tips, to struggle to find some small dry twigs to make a fire. As I felt my body entering what must have been the first stages of hypothermia I lit match after match until finally I could see the fire taking hold. I blew on it, nurtured it, and finally it reached the stage I could start adding larger twigs, then sticks and finally pieces of wood. The sound of the crackling pine was music to my ears at that moment. And once the fire was established I got as close as I could.
As I shivered almost to the point of feeling like I was going into convulsions Vincent came out of the tent and said, “Good job! Now you see why tonight you’ll be better at doing your job?” I asked, “Why did you throw water on me?” He turned the question around, “Well…what if it had rained last night?” I thought to myself that at least that would have woken me up, but I remained silent. He started going back to the tent but then I asked, “Hey, can you let me out so I can find a place to go to the bathroom?” He laughed and replied, “I’m not stopping you” and at that I finally heard Bethany’s voice, “Vincent!” He moaned and came over and started unlocking the lock and said, “Soon you’ll learn to make a fire without using matches.” When he said that, I put my other foot over several matches that I had dropped on the ground – when he left I put them in my back pocket, just in case.
I was still drenched and cold, but I had to find a place to be in private. I took some steps and noticed that at least I could still walk. In fact, as I looked around I noticed that I stepped on a piece of wood, breaking it, but I did not feel a thing. I guess I was getting more adapted to a primitive existence. A few minutes later I sat down, my body seemingly warming itself up, and remained motionless, so I could, well, hear the silence. Of course it is never silent in nature…one starts hearing the air rushing through the trees, birds off in the distance, and soon I could hear dripping from an almost dried up waterfall coming off the hill. I could even hear my own heartbeat. I was getting rejuvenated by nature’s energy. Even through the discomfort I had experienced I felt it was worth it.
After a while I returned to camp and this time Bethany was cooking something that looked like pancakes. She asked me to sit next to her. She moved close to me and apologized, “Jennifer, I, um, I am sorry for everything, but Vincent is trying to help you learn skills of survival. You never know, if he’s right about the future then maybe it’s all worth it.” I said I understood and we both sat there staring at the fire. I have to admit, while sitting there I was trying to figure out why Vincent was suddenly referring to me as Melanie while Bethany seemed devoted to calling me by her daughter’s name. The first time he did it on this trip he corrected himself but the previous night and this morning he seemed to intentionally use my former name. I was getting used to the idea of using my new identity and so it seemed odd that he quietly, so Bethany would not hear him I suppose, called me Melanie.
He came over and thanked Bethany for getting breakfast prepared. He sat next to me and said, “Good job on getting the fire re-started. Here, have a treat to warm yourself up the way they do it in Russia.” He handed me a small bottle of vodka that he apparently had packed in his bag. I thanked him and asked if he wanted any, but he said, “It’s all yours! You earned it! I suddenly realized, as I began emptying the small bottle, that I was not really all that mad at him anymore. I sat there by the fire and watched the steam from my clothing mingle with the smoke that was often blowing in my direction. At one time I would have avoided the smoke to keep the ash from filling my lungs, but it seemed unimportant anymore as the cigarette in my mouth was doing that anyway. Besides, I rather liked the fragrance of the burning pine that was enveloping me. Then again, maybe I was sort of not thinking straight thanks to the vodka.
Vincent was not all that talkative after breakfast. He just directed us to repack everything. I asked about the garbage and he rolled his eyes, pushed a large rock over, put everything there, and placed the rock back. He commented, “Nobody will ever see that stuff again.” Strange, I thought about when Nicole had mentioned how the guys had disposed of the woman who was my first victim. I wished I had been able to see how they did it – I mean, I did not even have a clue as to where they put it, and I supposed that no one was alive anymore who knew either, neither Mark nor Daniel. I wondered if anyone still was looking for her. Then again was anyone searching for me? For a moment, a quite short moment but still, I fantasised what it would be like if Matt suddenly appeared, shot Vincent and took me in his arms…what would I do? I smiled at the thought but then Bethany came over and asked what I was thinking about. I said, “Oh nothing, just how beautiful it is now that the sun is warming things up.” She smiled and said it was time to get going up the trail.
When we started hiking again I began to actually enjoy it. Again, maybe the vodka had affected my brain, and maybe that is why I had been thinking of Matt. I did not really care at that moment – in fact, when Vincent said that we would “only” walk about seven miles that day I felt like I could manage. Yet again as we hiked I continued fantasizing about the death of Vincent. This time I pictured Nicole with her 9mm wounding him in his legs, then shooting him in the arms, and then, like in some B-movie scene, standing over him and making him beg for mercy – just before she shot him in the head. For some reason I thought that would be funny, but then I realized she might also want to do Bethany in, and I would not want that. And strangely enough, I contemplated the thought of my love for Bethany. One could not help but love Bethany, and coming from me that says something special about her, but Vincent…what about him? I was coming to the conclusion that I both despised him and adored him. I had never had these feelings for anyone – it was either love, for a special few, hate or, for the vast majority of people, indifference. I wondered, what Vincent was becoming to me?
As the sun grew hotter I was getting drenched in sweat as I hauled the load on my back; but it felt okay to be overly warm after having experienced almost unbearable cold just a few hours earlier. I still found myself suffering coughing episodes, as well as feeling
the occasional penetration of a needle or rock into the skin of my feet, but I was determined to keep up, and keep up I did.
We finally reached our destination – a plateau overlooking a crater-like little valley. I wondered if it was an ancient collapsed volcano. There was a waterfall in the distance that fed a stream that exited through a very narrow canyon on the other end. We sat our things down and Vincent looked to me, “We need to fill our water jugs up down there.” Surprisingly, he offered to help me get down the face of the hill and took my hand as we descended. Once we arrived by the crystal clear stream he pointed to a pool a few yards down and asked, “You like trout?” I replied, “Who doesn’t?” He replied, “Great! Then I need to teach you to fish the old fashion way.”
There was no trail along the stream, and the rocks were far from comfortable to travel across, but Vincent and I made it to the pool. It looked inviting to swim but when I stuck my hand in it was ice cold. Vincent looked around and said, “I need to get something to make a spear. While I’m looking I want you to be naked when I get back.” I seriously had no idea what he had in mind; his intentions were a mystery to me. Yet I dutifully complied. As I undressed I could hear him in a thicket of small trees and brush. I put my clothes down just as I heard the snap of a tree branch. He returned and sadly acted no different than if I were dressed. He said, “I was lucky to find this long stick. It has a really sharp end where it broke. Now it’s time for your lesson.” He surprised me as he began to unbutton his denim shirt. As soon as he removed it he reached down and unfastened his pants! Within a few moments he had stripped off his clothes and tossed them besides mine. I had never seen Vincent nude. Aside from some apparent age spots around his shoulders, and abundant grey hair on his chest, he had a remarkably youthful look. He had no fat to speak of around his waist and he had muscle definition in his chest, arms and legs that rivalled most men a third his age! He looked me in the eyes, “You need cunning and stealth to live off the land. You have to have the patience of a mountain lion, the ability to stalk your prey and move in for the kill only on your terms.” As he spoke I noticed two mosquitoes had landed on his neck. I used my hand to brush them aside but Vincent grabbed me by the wrist and lifted my arm up high into the air, “Not even a domestic cat would risk alerting its prey by scratching a flea! You need to ignore irritations! What if you were about to stab an animal but your wanting to kill a bug that might steal a drop of blood caused it to panic and run away? You still have your drop, but you go hungry that day. Learn to know your body, to feel every movement, and be aware of even the slightest consequence of a move, but most importantly focus on your objective! A cat doesn’t think, nor does a lion. Both devote all their being to their killing so they can eat!”
Deliverance from Evil Page 15