by Stan Morris
“Thanks, man,” Howard said gratefully. He had not thought of that. Ahmad left the food and water and disappeared through the brush.
Howard turned to the woman. She was asleep, and she seemed to be breathing normally. He wondered if she was just extremely fatigued. She was thoroughly soaked from the rain. There was not enough room to make a fire in their shelter, and it was raining again outside. He decided to put her in one of the sleeping bags.
Howard unzipped a sleeping bag, and he positioned it by her feet. He removed her shoes and socks. He started to tug the sleeping bag over her legs, but then he stopped. Her pants were soaked. Should he remove her pants? He quailed at the thought.
You have to do it, he told himself sternly. You can’t put her in the bag while she’s wet. He felt his heart start to pound as he unbuckled her belt. He hesitated, and then he pulled her pants down. Trying to avoid looking at her, he carefully lifted her feet one by one, and pulled off her pants. Next, he unbuttoned her shirt and awkwardly pulled her arms out of the sleeves. He wondered if she would suddenly awaken and beat the crap out of him. Finally, he had her shirt removed. She was soaked to the skin.
Now he faced a terrible dilemma. Should he remove her underwear? I can’t do it, he thought. It’s not right. She will kill me, or Mike will hang me. Still, maybe he should. If only it were dark. He looked outside. It would be hours before darkness set in. He needed to get her warm and dry.
He argued with himself for minutes, before he thought what if it was me? Would I want her to take off my briefs?
He finally decided that if their positions were reversed, he would want her to get him dry, however she did it. So, he shut his eyes and removed her underwear. He had to open them for one minute, as he studied how to unclasp her bra. Then with his eyes still shut, he hastily pulled the bag up over her legs. Then he lifted her using one arm under her back, and he pulled the bag over her hips. Eventually, he got her all the way into the sleeping bag, so that it was up to her neck.
Howard felt exhausted. He thought he had never worked so hard in his life. He took off his clothes, climbed into the other bag, and he slept. When he woke, the sun was low in the sky. It had stopped raining. He got out of the bag, and he put on his damp clothes. Note to Mike, he thought, always take an extra set of clothes on these trips.
Howard crawled out of the tree and stood. He stretched and walked around for a few minutes. Then it began to rain again, and he crawled back into the shelter.
The woman began to make waking noises. As he watched, her eyes fluttered open. She seemed dazed. Howard took a piece of bread and held it to her lips. She bit into the bread and then weakly tried to lunge forward for a larger bite. He had brought a thermos of powdered drink which he helped her to drink. That was all the energy she could muster. She lay back and fell asleep again.
The sun went down, and it got cold. Howard shivered even after he was in his sleeping bag. He thought that it was the coldest night of the season, yet. He used his flashlight to check on the woman. She was shivering, too. Howard thought about climbing into the bag with her, but there was not enough room for the two of them. It was difficult, but he managed to unzip both bags and then zip them together. He was probably already in a lot of trouble anyway, he decided, so he took off his damp clothes except for his briefs, and he got into the combined bags. He lay there next to her for a few minutes, but she did not stop shivering. Now thoroughly alarmed, he pulled her into his arms and held her. Soon, she stopped shaking, and Howard felt her relax. Once, she sighed in her sleep. Gradually, his eyes closed. He slept, woke up, and then fell asleep again.
When he awoke, there was a dim light in the sky. He was still holding the woman. Trying to be quiet, he crept out of the bag. He looked out of their shelter. It was still very cold, but he crawled out, so he could stand and stretch for a minute. His body was sore, and he felt very tired. He crawled back inside the tree trunk. He looked at the woman and froze. Her eyes were open, and she was staring at him.
“Who are you?” Her voice was as icy as he felt. Another red head, she noted, seeing his long hair.
“I’m Howard.”
“I’m naked,” she said indignantly.
“I’m really, really sorry about that,” Howard answered hastily. “You were really wet. I mean really, really soaked. So I thought that I should…” He trailed off.
“You thought that you should take my clothes off. Wasn’t that nice of you?” She scowled at him.
“I’m sorry. I thought that was what I should do.”
“Where are they?”
“What?”
“My clothes!”
“Uh, look over here. See? I got a stick, and I hung them on the stick, and I leaned it inside this tree. I was hoping they would dry. But they didn’t.”
“And my underwear?”
“I put them in your pockets.”
Howard could see that she was thinking over his words.
“Are there any others with you?” Her suspicion was like a shield.
“Not now. I sent the others back to our camp to tell the Chief that we found you. I’m sure he will send help. You looked kind of sick, so I stayed with you.”
“Hmm…” She continued to stare at him.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I have some food. What’s your name?”
She seemed to relax slightly. “I’m Jean. And yes, I’m very hungry.” Howard gave her a sandwich, an apple, and a can of tiny wieners. She ate them ravenously, and then she drank a bottle of water.
“I’ve got more,” said Howard. “But maybe you should wait for a little while before you eat again. Do you have any food?”
“No, I haven’t eaten for three days now, I think. I managed to get water. Where did you find me?” Jean asked.
“Right here, outside this tree. I didn’t want to move you, so we put you in here. Then I sent the other three for help.”
“How soon will they be back?” she asked.
“They’ll get back to our camp late today. I imagine the Chief will send someone tomorrow. They should be here the day after tomorrow.”
Time enough to obtain some information, Jean thought. There is time enough to decide whether or not I should get the hell away from here. If he is not lying to me about the time it will take them.
“Tell me about your camp,” Jean said.
So Howard talked about the camp. He told her about the Lodge that they were building. He kept mentioning someone he called, ‘the Chief,’ which she took to be the man in charge.
At one point, she heard Howard mutter, “I hope he doesn’t hang me for this.” Her heart raced when she heard that. She feared the worst.
“You don’t mean that, do you?” she asked. “He wouldn’t really hang you, would he? I mean, it’s not like he has actually hanged someone, has he?”
Howard looked at her. “Yes,” he replied seriously. “He did hang a man. And I helped him. But the man killed two of our people, and he raped two of our girls. But no, I know he won’t hang me. He might be pissed at me though.”
Damn it, thought Jean. What have I got myself into? “What will he do to you?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Howard said darkly. “Maybe have the Spears smack me around some. Serves me right, I guess, for taking off your clothes.”
Jean was bemused to hear this. “He might have you smacked around for taking off my clothes?” she asked.
“Maybe. He’s got pretty strict rules where girls are concerned.”
“Is he the only one who decides what happens in your camp, or does the majority rule?”
“Oh, he’s in charge. There’s no doubt about that. But he usually asks other people for their opinion. He’s got, like, a Council of people that he always asks. I’m on it. Most of us are the Spears. We vote on lots of things. And our girlfriends get to vote usually. And a couple of girls are on the Council, too,” Howard related.
“So your girlfriend gets a vote because she’s your girlfriend,” Jean stated.
“That’s right. Not that I have a girlfriend,” Howard added. And I’ll probably never have one after this, he thought gloomily.
Male dominated society, thought Jean. Typical of what happens when civilization reverts to a more primitive state. But it doesn’t sound too bad. They seem to have a brute of a man controlling them, but it sounds like it’s not a total dictatorship. At least he asks for varying opinions. Maybe I can live there until I feel better. And maybe I can use this kid.
“You know,” Jean drawled slowly. “I don’t have to tell the Big Chief that you took off my clothes.”
“Really?” Howard perked up. “You’re not mad at me for that?”
“Not really. It was in a good cause, I suppose,” Jean said magnanimously.
“Oh, thank you,” responded Howard gratefully. “You know, I was thinking that I could make a fire and dry out your pan… I mean your underwear. At least you could wear them.”
Jean blinked. “At least,” she agreed.
By noon, Howard had delivered a dry pair of panties and her bra to Jean.
“Uh, they got a little singed,” he explained with a sheepish look.
Jean took the pieces of her scorched underwear, examined them, and sighed. “They’ll have to do,” she said sadly. “Could you?” She pointed to the entrance to their shelter.
“Oh, sure,” said Howard, and he quickly crawled out of the hollowed space.
Jean pulled on her underwear, glad they were warm from the fire. She crawled over to her other clothes and examined them. Too wet, she decided. Much, too wet. She thought about it and shrugged, and then she crawled out of the tree. Howard was standing by the fire. He glanced at her, and then he looked away.
“It’s, okay, Howard,” Jean said. “We’re going to be spending the day together, so it’s no use trying to avoid looking at me. So take a good look right now, and get over it.”
Nervously, Howard looked at her, swiftly moving his eyes up and down. Then he stared into her eyes and exclaimed, “Wow, you’re beautiful!”
Jean almost laughed, but she kept her composure and replied politely, “Thank you.”
She had no doubt that Howard would think that any woman under the age of thirty would be beautiful, if she were dressed only in her panties and bra.
Howard looked away. Well, that was dumb, he thought. She’s probably been told a million times that she’s beautiful, and by a lot cooler guys than me.
Howard gave Jean more food, and Jean quickly wolfed it down. She was feeling better than she had felt in a long time, except for a faint but annoying throbbing in her head.
It was warmer, but Jean was feeling chilled, so she crawled into the shelter, and then into the sleeping bag. Howard followed her into the shelter. Jean looked around.
“Where’s your sleeping bag?” she asked.
Howard looked at her, and he blushed. Jean’s eyes narrowed. She looked at her bag more carefully.
“This is a double bag,” she stated. “Where did you sleep last night, Howard?”
“You were cold! You were shivering. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“So you thought that it would be a good idea to share bags, huh? Share body heat? With a helpless naked woman?”
“You’re not going to tell the Chief, are you?” Howard asked, once more feeling doomed.
Jean glared at him. “Were you naked, too?”
“No! I kept my briefs on.”
“Your briefs?” Jean thought about that. “All right. It’s our secret then.”
“Thanks, Jean,” replied Howard with a sigh of relief, wishing that he wasn’t so tense and nerdy in Jean’s presence.
Jean and Howard talked some more, but eventually her aching head made her want to sleep again. She closed her eyes, but after a while, she realized that she was not really warm. How can I get warm? She knew. She grimaced as she realized that she had no other options.
“Howard,” she called. He was just outside, and he quickly crawled into the shelter.
“Jean, what is it? Are you okay?”
“Howard, I’m cold.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, but there’s no room to make a fire in here.”
“Howard.”
“Yeah?”
“Get in the bag.”
Howard gaped at her for a long minute, as her eyes avoided settling on his. Then he almost smiled. For some reason, he didn’t feel quite as dumb now.
“You want me to get in the sleeping bag?” he asked.
“Got it on the first guess.”
“With you?”
“Smart man.”
“While you’re wearing nothing but your underwear?”
“What? Do you want me to get naked again?” she exclaimed. “Get in the bag, Howard!”
Howard started to get into the bag.
“Take your clothes off, first,” Jean said wearily.
Howard paused, glanced at her, and then he removed all his clothes except for his briefs. He got in the bag. They lay stiffly, side by side.
“I’m not warm yet,” Jean muttered.
“Lift up,” Howard said.
Jean lifted her upper body, and then Howard slid his right arm under her shoulders. He grasped her shoulder and pulled her onto him, so that her face was lying in the crook of his arm against his chest. He realized that she was a little shorter than him. For some reason, he didn’t feel doomed any longer. In fact, he felt good. He felt damn good.
“Are you warmer?” he asked, after some time had passed.
“Uh huh,” she replied drowsily. She fell asleep. After a little while, he did too.
Slowly, Jean realized that she was awake. She had trouble remembering where she was until, after lifting her head, she looked into the face of the young man sleeping next to her. She felt hot, and groggy. It seemed as if she was in some kind of dreamlike state. For a moment, she wondered if she was dead, if she had died after she had fallen, tired, worn out from two months of living in the forest, and terribly hungry. She remembered feeling the rain beating down on her back. She remembered trying vainly to rise and then slumping for the last time. After that, she accepted that she would die there beneath the trees. She went into her head, into a peaceful place. Her only regret was that she would never know what had happened to the world.
But no, she thought. I’m not dead. This kid, Howard, had found her, and had brought her back to life. Had fed her, and had given her water. Had sheltered her, and had warmed her. A warm feeling of gratitude flowed through her. She smiled at the sleeping boy. What the hell? So, what if he saw me naked?
“You deserved it, Babe,” she whispered. “You saved my life.”
The whisper woke Howard. He opened his sleepy eyes to see the woman smiling at him. Then, to his surprise, she pulled his face close, and she kissed him. She slid her tongue into his mouth, explored him, and then withdrew.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully.
“Uh, hi,” he responded.
“That’s for saving my life,” she explained.
“Oh. You’re welcome,” he said. He was suddenly aware of her semi-nudity, and his body responded. He blushed, as he tried to turn slightly. She laughed softly, once.
“Don’t worry about it, Babe,” she said dreamily. Howard looked at her closely. He put a hand to her forehead.
“You’re burning up!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, it is hot,” she murmured, and then she complained, “My head hurts.”
A chill went through the boy. She was sick. She was sick, and there was nothing that he could do about it. He got out of the sleeping bag and retrieved his wet shirt. He pressed the shirt to her forehead. He opened the bag, even though she complained, and he let in some air, trying to cool her down.
Slowly, through the day, Jean’s condition worsened. The only thing Howard could do was to bathe her hot body with his wet shirt. That night was the darkest time for Howard, since he had realized that he would never again see the grandparents who had raised him. Jean was not
quite delirious, but she was in some kind of dream state, where she alternated between thanking him for saving her life and then complaining that he had. She began to weep at one point, and he found himself begging her to live.
When morning came, Howard decided that they could not stay in the tree another night. He had to get Jean to the others. He hoped if they walked back towards the camp, they might meet the rescue party before sundown.
When Jean woke, he told her his plan. She thought the success of his plan was doubtful, but she told him that she felt better. He rolled up the sleeping bags and tied them to his backpack, but when he examined their clothing he discovered that although his clothes had dried, her clothes were still wet. He debated having her wear them anyway, but then he made her put on his pants and shirt. He had to roll up the shirt sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, but he made it work.
She complained about having to wear his clothes, insisting on wearing her own, but he used rough language with her, telling her that like it or not, she was going to wear his clothes and to shut up. She did, and he was surprised at her passiveness, until he realized that it was a reflection of how sick she was. Walking slowly, he wearing only his briefs and boots, they left the shelter of the redwood tree.
They stopped frequently, but by noon she was exhausted. They crawled into the sleeping bags for two hours, and then he asked her if she could continue. Gamely she stood, and they continued their difficult journey. That afternoon, they had to stop sooner and rest longer. At the end, with two hours to go until sundown, Jean fell down. She could not go any farther.
“Go on, Babe,” she mumbled. “You can come back for me.”
Howard was frantic. He got down on his knees, and he forced her to get onto his back. Stumbling occasionally, he made his way down the trail, her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands under her legs.
“You don’t give up, do you, Babe,” she whispered in his ear.
“My grandparents taught me to be stubborn, I mean determined,” he replied. He heard a weak laugh.
“How old are you?” she asked sleepily.
“Eighteen. I had a birthday in August. How old are you?”
“Twenty four. I’ve been a Forest Ranger for two years. Do you think that this Big Chief of yours will let me stay at your camp? I’ll be another mouth to feed.”