by Beth Burnett
“Compasses have been around since the dawn of time.”
We haven’t passed another tent in a long time, so I take us off the path and start to set up camp. Leah pulls two tarps out of her pack; one to go over our tent and one to go under it. I set up my camp stove off to the side and screw in a propane tank. The first thing on my agenda is camp coffee. Leah pulls the French press out of my bag and sets up a little table area on a nearby rock. She has ginormous Ziploc bags for food. We’ll keep those in the tent with us to deter the raccoons.
While I put up the tent, Leah crawls into the trees to tie up one of the tarps. Her tent is supposed to be waterproof but long experience has taught me that even a waterproof tent will leak if it rains hard enough.
With camp set up and coffee made, Leah and I take a seat on a rock and look out across the hill.
“There are worse places to spend a weekend,” she says.
“I’m thinking I might not go back,” I respond.
“I lived in a tent for a while when you and Davey were in middle school. No running water, no electricity. It was fun and rustic for a while, but eventually, I got tired of being dirty. You can sponge bathe all you want, but nothing quite beats a hot, running shower.”
“I couldn’t really do it. I just feel like I need to be away from everyone for a while.”
She doesn’t answer.
“Well?”
She looks at me, smiling. “You’ll figure it out, Andy. I know you will. You won’t do it by running away.”
She lights up another joint and sits next to me smoking it. Leah is perfectly happy to sit here in silence, lost in her own thoughts or perfectly in harmony with nature. Dropping to the ground, I lean my back against the warm rock and let the sun bask my face. Doing this reminds me of the day I went to the woods with Maggie. She is attractive and pleasant and smart. There’s a chance that we could get together and make something good happen. But she lives across the country now, and I’m not moving anywhere. I have to be honest, even if I decided to be with her, we still wouldn’t be together the way I wanted to be with her. We would be good friends and possibly lovers, and she would still have other lovers when the fancy suited her. Maybe that would be the best thing for me. Maybe I need someone who doesn’t care if I take other lovers. I could have companionship and love and still be free to pursue sex with hot women. But I’m forty now, and I’m not sure that sex with hot women is what I need anymore.
Leah pats the top of my head and offers me the joint.
“No, thanks.”
She smiles and takes the last couple of hits before putting it out and tucking the roach into a tiny plastic container.
She slides down next to me on the ground and rests her head on the rock. She looks pleasantly stoned. Maybe I should have taken a hit. We sit side by side, watching the birds and bugs. Reaching down to my knee, I flick an ant into the air. I wonder what it is thinking as it flies through the air. Does it think it lost its grip on the planet? Does it wonder if it will ever come down? Probably not.
Heather came into my life at just the right moment. I’m starting to think about settling down, and she might be the woman with whom to do it. I think I’m even falling in love with her. But she can’t expect me to completely change my whole life in a matter of weeks.
Leah gets us more coffee, and we turn around so we can watch the setting sun. The clouds are darker and moving closer. It looks as if we might get rain tonight. I point them out to Leah and she gives a little shrug.
“It is what it is,” she says.
“There will be water if God wills it?”
“Something like that.”
Leah throws some oil in a frying pan and adds some chopped potatoes. I scramble some eggs in a bowl while she sautés those. When the potatoes have started to get soft, she throws in some onion, garlic, and spinach. I pour in the eggs. Leah stirs them into the veggies, making a kind of scrambled egg hash. In a few minutes, we have a fantastic camp dinner. Leah pulls salt and pepper and hot sauce out of her bag, and we make pigs of ourselves, stuffing our faces with the casserole.
By the time I finish washing the dishes with the water we toted in, it’s full dark and starting to rain. Leah throws a bowl on the ground to catch some rain water. Gathering up all of our stuff, I cram it into the tent. We crawl into our sleeping bags as the first boom of thunder rolls across the hill.
“August in Ohio,” Leah says, grinning. “Gotta count on a couple of thunderstorms.”
Lightning flashes outside of the tent. Within seconds, there is another slam of thunder. The rain starts gushing down. Leah closes the flap of the tent and we lay down on the camp pad. I’m on top of my sleeping bag because it is still too hot and muggy to get inside of it. Leah whips a little portable fan out of her bag.
“Leah, you think of everything!”
She nods. “I’m an old pro.”
The wind picks up and the rain starts blowing against the side of the tent. Lightning flashes outside, and this time it’s close enough for me to hear the sizzle. The thunder is loud enough to make Leah jump. The tent starts waving wildly, even with my efficient tie down job. Leah looks a little nervous. Water is pounding on the tarp, but the tent is still secure. The tent is still waving wildly, and I swear it feels like water has gotten underneath it. Leah sits up on the bed, looking around.
“We should pack up in case we need to make a run for it.”
“We’re not going to need to make a run for it.”
“In case.”
She starts packing things into our bags. I drain the last of the camp coffee and wipe out the urn with a paper towel. Leah points to a plastic bag.
“Garbage.”
She reaches for the Ziploc of leftovers and the tent lifts at the corner. One of my ropes has come lose and the corner of the tent is flopping around in the wind. We both jump as lightning hits a nearby tree and a branch cracks. The thunder comes immediately after. I have to get out there and reattach that side of the tent. As I open the tent flap, rain comes shooting in. Leah has our sleeping bags and the cap pad rolled up and attached to our packs. I run out and grasp for the tent rope, but it’s flying around in the wind, and I can’t get hold of it. As I make a dive for it, the other front tent rope snaps and the tent swings up. Leah screams. Lightning flashes again and the thunder roars right over my head. Grabbing for the tent, I manage to get my hands on the door flap. Leah has her pack on. She throws mine at me, and I shrug into it.
“Leah, I think waiting it out might be our best bet.”
I duck as lightning flashes again in my peripheral vision. The thunder vibrates the ground under my feet. Leah runs to the back of the tent and struggles with the other two ropes. I pull the ground tarp up. Leah finishes untying the tent and I quickly fold it into its bag. Leah starts to shimmy up a tree as another flash of lightning strikes.
“Leah, no! Leave the other tarp. I don’t want you in a tree!”
She jumps down, nodding grimly. We hold hands and start to run toward the path. The ground is slippery, and Leah trips. I grab onto her arm, just above the elbow and pull her up. For some reason, the old hick at the gas station comes to mind. “Slicker than snot on a doorknob.” A crazy bark of laughter springs from my mouth, and Leah stares at me. Shaking my head, I start off on a fast walk again. Leah loosens my hand from her arm and tucks her arm into mine for greater purchase. The rain is pouring down on us, and I can’t see a thing. I have an idea that we’re going in vaguely the right direction. Leah has her compass in one hand, but I doubt she can see it. Hitting a bit of a hill, my leg goes out from underneath me, and Leah and I both hit the ground. We slide down an incline and crash into each other at the bottom. I’m sure we’re off the path at this point. Trying to regain my feet, I let go of Leah and push myself off the ground. I’m covered head to toe with mud. Leah takes my arm again and pulls me. Since I don’t have any idea of where we are, I just follow her. The thunder is still booming, and it’s loud enough that we both jump every t
ime. I can see nothing but darkness and rain. In each lightning flash, I try to catch my bearings, but all I can make out are trees. I’m completely lost.
It seems as if we’ve been stumbling around for hours. We’re soaked through, and I’m freezing. Leah is still pulling me, and I’m following blindly. I gave up trying to make sense of where we are long ago. Leah takes another spill and I tumble over her, landing face first in the mud. I have a bit of a panicked moment where I feel like I’m drowning, but common sense takes over, and I push myself up. Wiping at my face, I take a deep breath. Leah is up first this time, and she hoists me up with both hands.
Lightning hits again almost directly in front of us. I’m temporarily blinded. Leah is moving again, faster now. I’m ready to make her stop to try to figure out where we are. It makes no sense to run randomly through the woods all night. Before I can stop her, we hit a clearing, and we’re in the parking area. The information booth is closed up tight, but my vehicle is right in front of us. Clicking the key fob, I unlock it and open the back hatch. We throw everything in the back and run around to the front. For a few minutes, I can’t move. I’m just sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at the rain, trying to catch my breath. Leah pants next to me for a few minutes, and then I hear her digging around in her pocket.
“Thank God for waterproof pot containers!” she yells.
We make eye contact for the briefest moment before bursting into laughter. Sitting in the Trailblazer, watching the windows fog up, I laugh with Leah until tears are streaming down my face. I picture the guy from the gas station again. “Tears as big as horse turds,” he might say. The thought makes me laugh harder. Leah is choking, but she somehow still manages to roll a joint. Watching the lightning through the windshield doesn’t seem nearly as scary as it did from the path. The smell of Leah’s pot fills the vehicle. Finally managing to get my laughter under control, I look over at her.
“Leah. Why does everything go wrong in my life?”
“Nothing is going wrong in your life. You’re just looking at it wrong.”
“Maggie is mad at me, Davey is in love with Danny, Heather broke up with me. I’m probably not welcome back at my gym. Nate now thinks I’m a nutcase.”
“Is that all?” She pats my hand.
“I’m tired of being alone. I’m done with the one night stand thing. I’m getting old. I couldn’t defend Heather from those assholes who attacked us. I pulled a muscle playing racquetball yesterday.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m trying to change my life, and it isn’t working.”
She smiles. “And?”
“I think that’s about it.”
She puts her hand on my arm. “Andy, it isn’t about changing your life. It’s about following your own heart.”
“I don’t know what my heart wants.”
“When you figure that out, everything else will fall into place.”
“I see.” I raise my eyebrow at her, sarcasm seeping into my voice. “So, if I can just figure out what my heart wants, Heather will forgive me, Davey and I will go back to being best friends without any lingering awkwardness, and Maggie will become good friends with my girlfriend?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t guarantee any of that. You can’t control what other people do. But if you want to have people in your life, you have to embrace them for who they are, whoever they are.”
“Sounds kind of new agey to me.”
She smiles. “Maybe you should start smoking pot.”
“Not a chance. I don’t want to start losing races on top of everything else.”
We both jump again as thunder sounds again. “The lightning and thunder are farther apart now,” Leah says.
“The storm is passing.”
“Seems as if the rain might be letting up, too,” she says.
“Want to set up our tent again?”
She grins. “These seats are pretty comfortable.”
“Yeah, they are.”
Leah crawls into the back seat and digs around in our bags for some dry clothes. She hands me a towel. Warm and mostly dry again, I push the driver’s seat back as far as it will go and recline in comfort. Leah puts a camp pillow behind my head and crawls back into the front.
“Leah?”
“Yes, kiddo?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. You’re a good person, Andy.”
I’m asleep before I can formulate an answer.
Chapter Eighteen
Leah and I survived the night in the car and drove back to the west side of Cleveland without any unusual events. Leah wanted to stop at that local grocery and gas place, but I’ve seen the movie Deliverance and I didn’t want to tempt fate a second time.
Leah gave me a hug when I dropped her off and told me to take some time to myself. I thought about it, but I don’t think I need time to myself. I’ve been taking time for myself my whole life. Maybe Leah is right. Maybe I do keep people at arm’s length and maybe it’s time I started embracing them for who they are, whoever they are.
Sitting in the parking lot of River Episcopalian Church, I check my cell phone. According to their website, the second service starts at noon. That gives me about fifteen minutes.
“Davey.”
She’s smiling on the other end of the phone; I can feel it. “Andy. How are you? Heard you and Leah had quite the adventure last night.”
“It was fun,” I say, laughing. “Well, not all of it. Actually, yeah. All of it.”
She laughs, too. “Our lives are adventures because of her.”
“She is never boring,” I agree.
“So how are you, really? Have you talked to Heather?”
“No. I haven’t. I’m going to, but I haven’t.”
“Good. I like her. I hope things work out with the two of you.”
“Davey, I like her, too. In fact, I’m pretty sure I love her.”
She’s smiling again and her voice is warm. “Andy, I am glad.”
“Look. I just need you to know this. You mean the world to me. You’re been my best friend for my entire life, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Neither can I. I love you, Andy. Nothing will change that.”
“I know. I do know that. I love Danny, too. I think he’s a wonderful man, and I’m happy that the two of you found each other.”
She sniffles a little. “I never wanted things to change between us, Andy. I just fell in love with him.”
“Things always change. We both know that.”
She’s still crying. “But we never did.”
“Davey, we always did. We just changed together. Remember sophomore year in college when we had drunk sex?”
She laughs through her tears. “Could never forget that. You were amazing.”
“True. I was.”
She lets out a snort. “Your modesty is a little overwhelming.”
“The point is that things got weird and awkward between us for a little while, but we got through it and we were stronger than ever.”
“So we’ll get through this and be stronger than ever?”
“Davey, we’re already through it.”
“I love you, Andy.”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
Hanging up the phone, I toss it into the cup holder and head into the church. It’s a pretty church, I have to give it that. The walls are lined with beautiful paintings, not that Christ-being-tortured depressing shit that you usually find in churches. Renee is sitting in a pew about three from the pulpit. I debate for about ten seconds about slipping into a back row, but the need to see Renee wins out. She smiles at me, surprised.
“Andy! What an earth are you doing here?”
I put my arm around her and kiss her on the cheek. “I’m having a sudden religious conversion.”
She laughs. “But really.”
“Really, I wanted to see you and get a feel for something that’s important to you.”
The music starts and Rene
e turns to face front without answering me, but the smile that she gives me as she turns away is delighted.
The service isn’t as scary as I expected it to be. The sermon is about loving your neighbor in deed, not just word. The reverend implores his congregation to go out and actively bring the word of God to the world by living a kind and loving life that shows the world what a true Christian should be. It got a little long-winded at a couple of points, and I might have actually drifted off for a minute when he started reading scripture, but the hymns were pretty, and it was nice to see the joy on Renee’s face every time she looked at me.
At the end of the service, Renee takes me by the hand and leads me to a social hall where there is coffee and some homemade chocolate chip cookies. I grab several of them while Renee pours me some coffee. She drags me around introducing me to people. A couple of old ladies try to press more cookies into my hand. The reverend thanks me for coming. It’s all pretty laid back.
Outside again, Renee walks me to my vehicle and turns to face me.
“Andy, I can’t even tell you what a joy it has been to have you in my home.” She’s beaming.
“Renee, it hurts my heart that I didn’t do this before.”
“Before doesn’t matter,” she insists.
We hug and she goes back to the church. The Chevy is warm, but not yet hot. It’s going to be a hot day, though. The air smells sweet outside of the church and with the windows open, I can hear some music coming from inside. Maybe the choir gets together and practices after church. The sound is soothing. My cell phone rings as I’m sitting there.
“Hey Maggie.”
“Andy. I’m back in Arizona.”
She sounds tired. “Long trip?”
“They all are,” she says.
“Maggie, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding between us.”
“I am, too. And I’m sorry for getting pissy with you. It was stupid. I’ve never gotten mad at someone for not wanting sex. It’s your own choice.”
“You were mad because you knew I was tempted.” I’m smiling.
She chuckles softly. “Andy, I told you that you were meant to settle down.”