by E. F. Jacks
“It will?”
He leans farther back. “It can’t go on forever.” After a pause, he says, “Why don’t you sit down?”
I nod and proceed to unroll my sleeping bag, but the lower half is soggy. The bag must have gotten hit by rain on our way into the tent from the raft. “Even out here, I have bad luck.” My face is tilted up at the tent ceiling, and I close my eyes, the tears burning through. It’s not the sleeping bag that’s making me feel this way. It’s missing Sam.
Ellis lifts an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
I open my eyes and avoid returning his gaze. “It’s nothing.” Tears press through my words.
Ellis rises. “Pauline.” He reaches to touch my face. His voice is heavy with worry. “You can have my sleeping bag. I don’t need to use one.”
My sobbing shakes me as I turn my head away from him.
“Is it your sister?” he asks hesitantly.
Not facing him, I nod. Ellis moves to comfort me, put his arm around me, and I step back. “Please, don’t.” I push him away with my words because I might get hurt if I give into my desires and then have to say goodbye to him at the end of our trip. I go against my instincts and peer up at him. “Will you sit with me?”
Ellis nods and gestures for me to go ahead. I settle down on his sleeping bag with my legs folded beneath me, and he sits next to me with his legs crossed. His hand hovers behind me and rests on my upper back.
“You’re cold.” Ellis rubs my shoulder. “One second.” He scoots over, ferrets through his bag, then removes a fleece jacket.
I slip my arms through the jacket and murmur thank you as I settle into the plush coziness of his fleece. Outside, the low rumble of thunder has vanished.
Ellis reaches behind me and picks up the flask. For a second I think he’s going to offer me a sip so I’ll relax, though I’d decline, then he uncaps the flask and drinks himself. His arm settles around my shoulders, and I tense, then ease into the warm, strong comfort of his touch.
Ellis yawns and blinks away sleep. A nighttime bird cries in the forest. “Are you tired yet?”
I level my hand in front of him and rock it from side to side. “I guess I am a little tired.”
He slides over and lifts aside the flap. I peek over his shoulders outside. The pale orange sun is fading away into the deep blue sky.
Ellis turns around, his green-gray eyes still on mine, then our eyes lock. As he stares into mine, my eyes drift to the ground. He cups my chin in his hand, and his fingers slip away one by one as he lets go. I prepare myself for him to kiss me, lean forward and tilt my head.
He turns away and begins to fix his side of the sleeping bag. “I’ll sleep on this side, with my back facing you, of course.” He smiles, and my body empties of passion. He’s clueless about how close he was to me permitting him to make love to me tonight.
I answer in a monotone. “Sounds perfect. Goodnight.” I start to remove his jacket. Can you hold me in your arms if I get cold? nearly leaves my lips.
He gestures to his jacket. “Feel free to keep it.”
So I leave it on.
Ellis closes the flask. He leans back with it pressed to his chest and rolls onto his side when I move next to him.
What if I drop even the smallest of hints? “Ellis? We won’t die if we touch, you know.”
His voice is thick with sleep when he answers me. “Hmm?”
“Go to sleep.”
***
Ellis snores softly beside me in the morning. Our heads touch. He draped a blanket on me at some point during the night, and I peel it off me. I gently pry the flask from his hand, move back from him and rise. My body is stiff from keeping to my space the whole night. Ellis’s hair is tousled and pressed to his cheek. His thick-lashed eyes are shut. He’s so handsome, like a prince out of a fairytale, but with rougher edges. I reach down, touch his hair, and draw my fingers through its full softness.
He stirs, and his eyelids flutter. I hop back and repack my gear and the flask. A cool breeze trickles in from outside, and I add an extra layer of clothing to my outfit, the same clothes as yesterday.
I find the fire starter in one of Ellis’s gear bags next to his clothes, which smell sexy like him. I bring my head halfway down inside his bag and breathe him in. There are also a few pill bottles inside. I pick one up to read the label, but guilt burns my eyes and I put it back. The edge of a journal sticks out from a shirt. I should leave it alone, too. It’s private.
Ellis doesn’t seem like a guy who would write down pensive thoughts. I check to make sure he’s sleeping, then pick up the journal. It has a dark blue cover. I glance at him again, and I open it.
It’s not a diary, or poems, or anything like that. He’s jotted down pages and pages of what look like notes. I think they’re his words. The journal doesn’t have a name written inside the cover.
There are detailed reminders about things like how to drive a stick shift and how to start a fire. And how to shave his face. Why would Ellis need help with how to drive? And I’ve watched him successfully build a fire. How could a grown guy forget how to shave?
Last night Ellis carried some dry wood and leaves he’d managed to find into the tent in preparation for the morning. I take these and the fire starter with me, and tuck the journal under my arm. I’m going outside to boil water for coffee.
I assemble the wood and leaves, then kneel and follow the instructions written in the journal on how to light a fire. The flame doesn’t catch.
“‘Morning.” Ellis steps out from the tent. “What are you up to?”
I slide the journal under my knees. “Just making coffee.” I won’t ask him for help. I’m determined to do this myself. In fact, for once I don’t want him coming anywhere near me. And now I’ll have to somehow put the journal back inside his bag without him seeing me. I remember the instructions, and I try again, but no flame.
“How’s it going? Do you need my help?”
I glance up and he’s standing over me. “No, I’m okay.” I’ve spoken way too fast to sound calm.
“Doesn’t look like it. You haven’t even got the fire going. Let me do it.” He hunkers down at my side and tries to take the starter out of my hand.
I breathe out in relief when he doesn’t notice the journal under me, but I won’t give up the fire starter. “Ellis, I’m fine.” I sit down on the journal.
He’s silent for a beat, then shakes his head. “Okay, then.” He stands up, and I can hear him behind me, watching me.
My hands shake under his gaze. I glance over my shoulder at him. “Do you mind?”
Ellis doesn’t budge.
I groan and try to use the fire starter again, but he’s made me forget the instructions.
Ellis’s voice comes from low within his throat. “You’re not doing it right. Let me do it for you.”
I whip my head around and rise. “Look, I can’t work with you standing there.” He grabs the fire starter out of my hand. I gasp. “What are you doing?” I hold my arms out to my sides. And I forget about the journal on the ground.
Ellis reaches down and picks it up. “What the hell are you doing with this?” His tone is resentful, and his eyes are cold. “You went through my things?”
So the journal does belong to him. I speak to the right of his wide shoulder. “I found it by accident when I was looking for the fire starter. I swear I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”
His expression remains the same. “Did you read it?” Then he cuts me off before I can give him an answer. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.” He slams the journal against his leg and I jump back.
I’ve managed to piss him off. Then I think of the pill bottles. “Ellis, I also found…Should you have been drinking last night?”
From the cold way he stares at me, I know my message has reached him. I also can tell he doesn’t plan to reply. The blush in his face deepens, and I grasp he’s ashamed, not angry.
I’m determined to find the reason behind his embarrassment.
Then he’s kneeling by my wood pile with his journal under his arm. He doesn’t open it. And it takes him just one try to light the wood and leaves. He squares his shoulders, like he’s so proud of himself, and there’s that cocky grin again, only it isn’t directed at me. It’s all for himself. If he’s so good at starting a fire, then why does he need help remembering sometimes?
When the coffee boils, I lift the pot from the cooking rack and pour us each a cup from the dishware Ellis packed. I am glad he thought of everything when I hadn’t. He’s commanding and secretive, and moody, but he is responsible.
“You’re up early today.” The coffee steam curls up from his mug as he sips. He puts his face close to mine to get my attention and smiles at me. He wants to apologize, but won’t say he’s sorry. Why does he have to always look so handsome?
I stare back at him through my eyelashes. The coffee warms my throat as I drink. He’s apologizing in his own way. “There are benefits to being the first one up.”
“Such as?” A corner of his mouth lifts up.
I pause, holding my cup in both hands. I look over the rim at him. “Such as, I got to use the best bathroom spot first.”
His eyes soften as he laughs.
I don’t go into the tent with him when he puts away his journal. I expect he’ll hide it in a new place, and it’s better that I don’t know where. I can’t trust my curiosity.
Later, as he stands by the calm water’s sandy edge and shaves in the sunlight, he smiles at me when he catches me watching him with his cheeks covered in white shaving foam. Such a simple act as witnessing a guy shaving in the morning brings some normalcy to the trip, comforts me, and reminds me of the few better moments living with Seth.
If Ellis seems so strong, then why does he need notes to help him remember small things?
Chapter Seven
Pauline
The next night, Ellis goes to bed early. We’ve spent most of the day quietly on the raft, and not saying much besides a few pleasantries while we paddled. He’s been a little awkward toward me ever since I found his journal.
My Kindle finally ran out of power, and I rest above my sleeping bag as I read a paperback with the small flashlight I brought. Tonight’s warmer than it has been. Ellis is sleeping atop his bag near mine.
My laptop has sat untouched during the trip. So much for writing an essay. Maybe I’ll remember enough to write about the experience after I return home. I have a feeling I need to complete the full trip before I can express how Sam’s death affects me and the connection the trip has to her.
I would like to take Ellis up on his offer from the other day to go for a swim and cool off before I go to sleep. I tuck my paperback into my bag and zip it. I get up on my feet, shine the flashlight on Ellis’s sleeping bag and bend down to whisper in his ear. “Ellis?”
He stirs and rolls over, then rolls back on his side.
“Ellis?”
His chest expands as he snores softly with his face pressed into the sleeping bag.
I raise my voice to a speaking level. “In case you’re interested, I’m going swimming.”
Ellis turns more on his side and continues to snore. He warned me to watch out for coyotes, mountain lions, and bears, and all sorts of other fuzzy and frightening creatures, and poisonous snakes, if I ever found myself alone. I fear the snakes more than I fear the others. I’ll be alone, and a little afraid, but I’ll take my flashlight with me, and it’ll give me a chance to wash my hair.
I put my body wash, shampoo, and conditioner—three luxuries out here—in a caddy. I kneel by Ellis and nudge him to tell him again where I’m going.
He murmurs, “Okay,” without, I think, fully hearing what I said.
I drape a towel around my neck. This will be the first genuine bath I’ve had since I’ve arrived, and I’m excited.
I close the flap behind me as I head outside barefoot. It’s pitch-black out. The moon glimmers on the river and casts light across the water body’s full length, which is too wide to safely bathe in. In the distance there’s a large shimmering pool protected by a circle of small boulders. In the dark it’s hard to judge how far off it is, but I head that way with the flashlight leading me.
I hope it’s not too far away. I wouldn’t want Ellis to wake up and discover I’m missing. What would he do? Would he think he has to rescue me? I sure wouldn’t mind him saving me, but knowing him even a little means I know that while he’d come find me, he’d also be disappointed I didn’t wake him up to tell him exactly where I was going.
I tiptoe across the rough ground and wonder if I’m making a mistake. I could cut my foot, or worse, get bitten by a snake. Maybe I should have used the river. But even I want some privacy.
I sing to myself when I make it halfway toward the pool, because I’m still a little nervous. The farther into the woods I go, and the farther away from our tent I am, the darker it gets.
My feet sink into something cold, mushy and thick.
Yuck.
Then I can’t move. I shine the flashlight on the ground. I’m ankle-deep in disgusting mud.
I scan the area with the flashlight. There are large boot prints in the mud at my side. Ellis did mention other people could be out here.
I consider turning back if I can. There’s the boot prints, and the fact I can only walk if I lift my knees up high and march through the compacted mud. I turn right to get out of it, but everywhere around me is sludgy mud and reeds. My eyes burn and tears form in them. I curse under my breath and am about to throw my towel to the ground in defeat.
Then I start laughing at myself, because Sam would have laughed with me. At me. She would have said, “Come on Pauline. What did you expect? You’re in the wilderness. Are you really going to let a little mud stop you?”
I’ll have to trudge through the muck if I want to bathe in the pool. But what would be the point if I’ll just get dirty again on my way back to the tent?
No. I have to do this. For myself. I’ve come this far, and I can’t turn back now. At the beginning of this trip, I wanted to return home before I even started, but I’m still here and I don’t plan to head home until I’ve completed Sam’s journey.
I use the flashlight to search the area up ahead. To the left of the pool there’s another path that looks like it snakes around the mud and back to the tent. I’ll take that small path on my return.
By the time I slog through the mud and arrive at the pool, my thighs are burning and my lower back aches. I’m in dire need of a bath.
I call out hello to make sure the area’s clear. Then I set the flashlight on top of a rock, double-check that I’m alone and flick it off. I pull off my sweatpants and shirt, keep on my bra and panties, and leave the clothes in a pile on a rock with my clean towel on top, within an arm’s length away from the pool.
The warm night air sparks against my skin as I lower myself into the cool water up to my chest. The bed consists of smooth stones. Water skims over my arms as I move them. I grab my shampoo and conditioner from the shore and lather myself up. An animal screeches. I pause and listen, then rinse off.
When I’m done with my bath I return the bottles to the caddy on the shore and swim farther out to the pool’s deep center. I move my arms in circles under the water to keep afloat, and shut my eyes to relax. A moment of peace won’t hurt one bit. My hair floats away and fans out around me in the water.
Footsteps crunch in the woods behind me. From the sound of its feet, whatever it is isn’t small. What kind of animal could be that loud? A slight rush of wind escapes from within the trees. Not wind. Breathing. Something’s breathing in the woods. Someone. I think of the boot prints.
“What the—” I’m immobile in the water and wide-eyed with fear. Panic tightens my normal composure.
“Ellis, is that you?” I shout.
The noise ceases.
I speak up loud enough to let whoever is out there know I’m not going to let anything bad happen to me, won’t let them frighten
me. “Who’s there?”
The footsteps back away, then break into a run within the forest, bounding over obstacles as they flee.
Once it’s quiet again, my arms overreach through the water as I race to the shore. I jump out of the pool. I toss my towel across my body and grab my caddy and clothes. I pick up my flashlight but don’t turn it on right away. Instead, I run blind into the night and its unending darkness.
The forest’s branches are invisible until they scratch against my wet hair, which slaps on my back. The ground pinches into my feet. I trip on a groove in the earth and my caddy bumps in the crook of my arm. There’s no way I could outrun someone if I have to get through the dense mud from before. I hear soft thuds, switch on the flashlight and break into a sprint toward the other path I noticed. Branches smack into me as I run and run. The forest blurs around me.
Then I see the tent.
I lift aside the flap and duck inside. Ellis is sound asleep. He doesn’t look like he’s been up spying on me and then somehow sneaked back into bed. Again, I check that I zipped the tent behind me. Should I wake Ellis up and tell him what happened? But he’s so deep in rest that I don’t want to disturb him, especially if I’m mistaken and it really was an animal out there. My stomach pits against my head, because in my gut I’m confident I’m right and it was a person. Those prints in the mud. The two men I’ve seen out here besides Ellis are Ranger Mitch and Helen’s husband Doug. I can’t imagine Doug, the goofy, good-natured dad, doing anything like that, so Mitch is most probable for now. Has he been following us the whole way? He does wear boots.
I toss my soaked towel next to my sleeping bag and crawl inside. Within the fleece lining I shiver in my damp bra and panties. Eyes open, I peer around the darkness closing in on me in the tent and am thankful Ellis is here, I think.
The thought of Mitch lurking out there with me unaware in here jolts me to action. I switch on the light and scan the tent, careful not to direct the beacon near Ellis’s face. The shampoo and conditioner bottles aren’t in the caddy at the foot of my sleeping bag. The thud while I was hurrying back here. I must have dropped them. By the time morning arrives an animal might have carried them away, but there’s no way I’m going out into the dark alone to search for them. Come to think of it, if Mitch is out there, the glow of the flashlight could help him see in here. I switch it off.