I had to know where the guy was.
Then the tent flaps bulged, spread apart, and out came the girl’s companion.
A brunette with rich, gleaming hair. Tresses swung in front of her face as she crawled from the tent and stood up. Then she swept them aside. Though her face was a little indistinct because of the distance, what I could see of it looked very good. She actually seemed beautiful. Dark skin, stark white eyes and teeth.
Standing in front of the tent, she stretched as if she might’ve just awakened. Yawned, went to tiptoes, arched her back, reached her arms up high, twisted her body slowly from side to side.
She wore a white, string bikini.
She was tall and slender, tawny. Long-limbed and sleek. She looked like the sort of elegant fashion model who usually has breasts the size of tea cups. But hers were about three times that size. They looked like twin loaves held loosely by the pouches of her bikini top. Between their smooth, rounded sides was a shadowed valley.
Anyway, they were terrific.
She was terrific.
After finishing her stretch, she turned away from the tent and walked toward her friend. She had a great walk. Her buttocks took turns flexing. Between them was a white thong.
I heard voices as she stepped closer to her friend, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Then she started throwing the hatchet.
God, what a sight!
She threw nine or ten times at the tree. Each time she planted the hatchet into the trunk, her friend clapped. The couple of occasions she missed, they both laughed. The other gal would run to fetch the hatchet, and bring it back to her.
Then that one took a few turns.
After a while, they quit. The small one whacked the hatchet into a stump near the fireplace. Side by side, they walked toward the lake. And straight toward me.
They waded gingerly into the water, carrying on a lot about how cold it was. They shuddered and squealed. They acted as if they were being tortured and found it hilarious.
In with all the cries about the freezing water, and how they were dying and so on, they shouted each other’s names a few times. The fabulous one was Gloria. Her dumpy friend was Susie.
As Gloria stepped carefully into deeper water, Susie splashed her from behind. Gloria shrieked and flinched rigid as if she’d been jabbed in the back with a cattle prod. Her breasts did a jump of their own. One hopped right out of her bikini and swung through the air as she whirled around. It was shiny in the sunlight. It was very white where it had no tan. The nipple was dark and stuck way out. “Now you’ve done it!” she shouted. She chased Susie through the shallow part of the lake, giggling and gasping, ducking low every now and then to fling water.
They were both drenched by the time they faced off for the showdown. Standing a couple of yards apart in knee-deep water, they bent over and slapped at the surface like crazy, flinging frothy torrents at each other.
Susie suddenly caught a mouthful and choked. She turned away, coughing. Immediately, Gloria quit splashing.
“Are you okay?”
Susie kept coughing.
Gloria slapped her on the back a few times. Her hand made loud smacking sounds against the wet skin. She had a worried look on her face.
“Are you okay?”
Susie’s head bobbed. She coughed a few more times, then took deep breaths.
Gloria patted her back more gently. “You okay now?”
“Yeah. Just…choked on some water.” Susie bent down and held her knees.
Gloria took the opportunity to fool with her bikini top and tuck her breast into its pouch. Smiling, she asked, “Want to race?”
Susie straightened up. She turned around. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on. I’ll give you a headstart.”
A corner of Susie’s mouth turned up. “You’ll give me a headstart?”
“It’s only fair. I almost drowned you.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need any headstart. You’re the one who needs a headstart, honey.”
Gloria smiled. “If you insist. Where to?”
They checked around, then Susie nodded toward the far end of the lake. “See that flat rock sticking out?” The lake was not very wide, but fairly long. The flat rock appeared to be at least fifty yards away.
“Maybe we should swim that way,” Gloria said, and pointed behind her.
Susie turned to look.
And that’s when Gloria dived in the opposite direction. She came up swimming hard for the flat rock that Susie had suggested as their goal.
A moment later, Susie hit the water.
Gloria already had a lead of about one body-length.
I didn’t stick around to see who won.
With both of them swimming off like that, I had a great chance to make a clean escape. So I took it. Scampered over the rocks and got away from the lake and ran.
By the time I got back here, I was worn out. Drained. Exhausted. Too much excitement.
I turned in early. For a long time, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. I lay there cozy in my sleeping bag, my mind in a turmoil. Sometimes, I got all excited about Gloria. Other times, I got a sick feeling.
The sick feeling was probably guilt. My little visit to Mascot Lake had seemed at the time like a great adventure. A daring mission. Invisible man on the prowl, spying on babes.
When you come down to it, though, what I did was kind of perverted.
I finally made the decision to stay away from Gloria’s camp. I would not, under any circumstances, pay another visit. Come morning, I told myself, I would hit the trail and raise dust.
That calmed me down. I fell asleep. Didn’t sleep well, though. Too many vivid, wild dreams. They mostly featured Gloria, of course. They had me feverish and thrashing around. Some were wonderful, some horrible.
Finally, I woke up and saw that the sky was getting light. Not dawn yet, but near enough.
Awfully cold outside my bag. I shook like crazy, getting dressed and packing away my gear. But I was on my way in record time. The shivers stopped after I’d been on the trail for about five minutes.
Anyway, what I did yesterday was wrong, but I feel pretty good now. Kept my vow to leave without any more nonsense. Didn’t cave in.
Hiked for a couple of hours, just to put a good distance between myself and temptation. No sign of anyone all morning. I’m determined, though, to act normal if people do come along. Not hide, not spy. No more “invisible man” stuff. Just stay on the trail and say hello and maybe have a nice chat.
I can see the trail from here. It’s a distance off, but not out of sight. Maybe I’m trying to prove that I don’t need to hide. Who knows?
The creek here is noisy. It rushes quick over the rocks, and sometimes it throws an icy splash against my back. Feels good, even though it makes me flinch.
After getting here, I built a fire. I’d missed my morning coffee, not wanting to make a fire while I was still close to Mascot Lake. The girls might’ve been awake, might’ve seen the smoke.
So I treated myself to a lot of hot coffee, and also cooked a skillet full of bacon and eggs. Fake eggs, of course. But the meat was real, scraped from a “bacon bar” that is shaped like a cake of soap. It was a very fine breakfast.
Afterward, I killed the fire, changed into my trunks, and cleaned my cooking stuff at the stream. Also took the opportunity to wash up and brush my teeth. Pretty soon, everything was taken care of except this.
It’s incredible the number of pages I’ve gotten done this morning. It’s taken forever. My butt kept falling asleep from sitting on the rocks. One time, my dick even went numb. Had to stand up before the feeling would return.
A lot of work, but I’m caught up. My middle finger has a red dent from the pressure of the pen.
I like it here beside this creek. Today marks the mid-point of my trip. The fifth day since leaving the car. I haven’t eaten as much food as planned, so I don’t actually have to start heading back tomorrow. But I think I will. Five
days out is far enough. In some ways, too far.
Instead of pushing on, I’ll spend the night here. First thing in the morning, I’ll start heading back for the car.
It’ll be good to return to civilization.
* * *
They’ve stopped for lunch. I can see them from here if I peer over the edge of rock behind me. They’re down below on the trail. Last time I looked, they’d taken off their packs and were perched on a boulder.
What happened is this.
I’d finished the writing and was feeling lazy, so I spread out my sleeping bag near the stream and stretched out on it. Very comfortable. Lying in the shade. Warm. A nice, soft breeze.
I was almost asleep when somebody laughed.
And there they were, hiking up the trail, Susie in front, Gloria following. I was shocked, to say the least. Always figured, for no good reason, that they were on their way in the other direction.
Anyway, they didn’t seem to spot me. Just kept going.
I threw all my stuff together fast and went after them.
I’ve been following them ever since, staying a good safe distance to the rear, staying out of sight always. I’m sure they haven’t seen me.
Just now I looked down to check on them. They’re still sitting on the rock. Sharing a foil pouch of something – trail mix, gorp, nuts, who knows? Gloria had a plastic bottle in one hand. Red liquid inside. Kool-Aid, maybe.
This is the nearest I’ve been to her. She’s even more beautiful than I thought. God, what a knockout!!!
She’s been wearing a big gray felt hat, but she took it off and tossed it onto her pack. She has a red bandana tied around her neck. She’s wearing a tan, short-sleeved shirt with epaulets and button-down pockets. It looks expensive, like a shirt from one of those mail order houses that specializes in outdoor stuff. It looks loose and comfortable. It isn’t tucked in, and it’s unbuttoned to about halfway down. Through the gap, I can see the sides of her breasts and the space between them. Her shorts match the shirt. They’re sort of baggy. They’d probably reach to her knees, but she has them rolled up. She’s wearing regular white crew socks and big leather hiking boots.
She almost looks like she’s modeling the stuff, except that her hair is mashed down from the hat and she’s sweaty and dusty.
Susie is wearing – who cares? Never mind.
Will sign off now, and keep an eye on things.
* * *
Got some time to kill. “You can’t kill time without injuring eternity,” so says Thoreau. But I can’t go anywhere for a while.
Just ahead, things open up. That’s the problem. The trail cuts across a very long stretch of barren slope. Nowhere for me to hide. If I start following and one of the girls looks back, I’ll be spotted. Can’t have that.
If there were some other hikers around, I might chance it. Haven’t seen any all day, though. We must be somewhere pretty remote. With nobody else on the trail, I’d be too conspicuous. So I have to just wait until Gloria and Susie are out of sight.
Hope I don’t lose them.
Might be better if I do lose them. Don’t know what’s wrong with me. I had left them behind. I was free from them. But this morning when they hiked by, it was like they threw a chain around me and dragged me after them.
Guess I’m nuts.
Nuts all right. Nuts about Gloria.
It’s crazy, though. I don’t even know her. In a way, I don’t want to know her. (That sounds a little crazy, too.) The thing is, it’s great to just observe her from afar like I’ve been doing. It would change everything if I actually talked to her. I’m sure of that. It would lessen her. She’d lose her magic.
I’d lose mine, too. Wouldn’t be invisible anymore.
Maybe I’ve just stumbled onto the secret of a great relationship – don’t have one. Ha ha.
I just looked. I can still see them. They’ll be awfully far ahead by the time it’s safe for me to follow. I’m tempted to start out after them now, but don’t want to blow it.
* * *
They got such a good lead that I didn’t see them again for a couple of hours. By then, they’d already pitched camp near the south end of Big Boy Lake. I glimpsed their tent through the trees, then looked away quick in case they happened to be watching me.
Big Boy is much larger than Mascot. Like every other lake up here, it’s in a basin surrounded by mountains. This one has a lot more trees than most, though. They are at both ends, and thick along the whole western shore.
I walked the length of Big Boy. From what I saw, it looked as if nobody was there except the girls.
Perfect.
Just them and me.
My plan was to camp at Little Boy. The map showed it just north of Big and at a slightly lower elevation. When I looked down at it, though, my plan changed. Little Boy looked like a nightmare – just a scoop of water surrounded by granite slopes. No more than five or six trees grew by its shore. I could see twice that many under the water, sprawled out white. A lake couldn’t look any more desolate and creepy than Little Boy. They should’ve named it Little Dead Boy.
Where the trail dipped downward on its way toward that nasty place, I ducked behind a clump of boulders. I waited a while. Then I snuck over to Big Boy, staying low.
Found a good spot for the night. A small clearing surrounded by trees, bushes, and boulders. It’s not far from shore. And it’s almost at the opposite end of the lake from the girls’ camp. Not much chance that they’ll find out I’m here.
I didn’t build a fire, of course. Made a meal of dried fruit, cookies, and chocolate. Will take along my bacon bar for later. And my water bottle.
I’m going now to see what they’re up to. Keeping my clothes on, this time, though I’ve changed out of my hiking boots. Taking my jacket, too. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t want to freeze.
June 22
Back to where I left off. Seems like a long, long time ago that I went looking for Gloria and Susie. Just yesterday afternoon, though.
God, I’m lucky to be back.
Somewhat the worse for wear, as they say. But back.
Anyway…
Yesterday afternoon, I made my way toward their camp very carefully. Silent, invisible. Took a long time. After every step, I stopped to listen. Finally heard their voices. I couldn’t understand what was being said, but the voices told me where they were.
I found them between the front of their tent and the lake shore, Gloria sitting on a rock and reaching into her backpack while Susie knelt by the fireplace and busied herself breaking twigs in half.
They had both changed from hiking boots to sneakers. Otherwise, they were dressed the same as before.
I felt exposed, watching from behind a tree trunk. Searched for a better observation post, and found the perfect thing. Only a short distance from the rear of their tent was a boulder some fifteen or twenty feet high. It loomed like a tower over their campsite.
I made a big circle to avoid the girls, came in from behind, and climbed to the top. Not an easy climb by any means. That was good, though. The harder the climb, the less likely I was to have a visit from Gloria or Susie.
Great up there, almost like it was meant to be my lookout post. It was roughly round, about eight feet across, and had a sunken area in the middle. When I sat or knelt in the depression, it was like being inside a shallow bowl; I couldn’t even begin to see the ground. Which meant I was well out of sight from down there.
This was almost too good to be true.
My own private world.
My only regret was that I hadn’t brought my sleeping bag along. Or the rest of my stuff. This would’ve been a great place to make camp.
Right on top of them. So to speak.
From here, I would be able to watch them do everything. The sun hadn’t gone down yet. In fact, it felt very hot. So they might go swimming. They might sunbathe. Or toss the hatchet around, like yesterday. Whatever, I’d have a bird’s eye view.
With my jacket to keep me
warm, I should even be able to stay after dark, stick with them until they turned in. Once they were inside their tent for the night, I could climb down and return to my camp. Get some sleep. Come back before dawn and be ready atop my lookout by the time they got up. Their morning activities were sure to make a great show.
Oh, I had big plans.
On my belly, I squirmed toward the front of my rocky lookout. I peered over the edge just as Susie tipped her head to take a drink of water. Her eyes locked on mine.
Gave me a terrible sensation, like suddenly falling.
I ducked out of sight.
All my insides seemed to be cold, squeezed tight and shaking.
For a little while, the only sounds were the wind and some gulls. Maybe Susie hadn’t seen me, after all.
Mistook my head for an owl? Thought I was a marmot, or something?
It’s amazing the crap that runs through your head. All you want is a way out. You want a Time Machine to travel you an hour backward so you can decide not to come here. You want to turn invisible for real, or at least be able to sink into the ground and disappear like a puddle of water. You want to take a flying leap and land on your feet and run like hell. Anything, just so you don’t have to face the music.
Maybe it’s for the best, I finally told myself. After all, I’d been starting to go off the deep end. Maybe getting caught is just what I needed.
Those are just a few of the things that zapped through my mind while I shivered and waited for the girls to react.
The wait seemed to last about five years. It was probably more like a minute. Then Susie called, “Who’s up there? I saw you.” She sounded very nervous. “There’s no use hiding. Who are you? What are you doing up there?”
If I keep my mouth shut and don’t show myself, they’ll think I got away.
“Come on, mister.” This time, it was Gloria’s voice. It didn’t sound nervous at all. Calm and patient. “We know you’re up there. We can’t just go on about our business and pretend you’re not there, you know? We’re out in the middle of nowhere and we’ve suddenly got a stranger lurking around. Hey, maybe you’re a nice guy. Or maybe you’re some kind of lunatic. The thing is, we can’t just assume you’re okay. So come on down and talk to us.”
The Wilds Page 3