by Carol Lawson
“Don’t fight it,” she said, sensing his discomfort. “Have you ever just stared at someone?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“My best friend and I used to all the time. We’d just sit and stare into each other’s eyes, sometimes for an hour at a time. Just sitting and looking at each other. It can feel weird at first, but don’t fight it. I think it’s one of the most intimate things you can do with someone,” she said.
He merely lifted his lips into a smile and continued to stare. For how long they lied their together on the warm forest floor gazing into each other’s eyes it was impossible to tell. The world seemed to fall away, as if it had followed the same path they’d been on earlier and gotten lost, and simply wandered away. He could feel the sun drifting over his bare skin, brushing up the borrowed T-shirt.
Then, almost against his will, time stopped. Lily leaned in closer to him until her lips were centimeters from his own, and both of them still holding each other’s eyes like a tug-of-war. He felt her lips brush gently over his, almost a ghost of a sensation.
He leaned into it and felt her lips press up against his and open slightly. For the first time her eyes closed and he moved against her, and tasted her inside his own mouth. They held the kiss for a long time, until it was almost comical, and he finally pulled away.
For several seconds she kept her eyes closed, and when she opened them again a slow smile slid up her cheeks.
“Oh, hi,” she said.
“Oh, hi,” he repeated.
6.
When they finally got down to the cabin it was the early afternoon and they’d been quiet the whole hike back. Partly it was because they were both exhausted when they finally arrived, but Shane knew it was also because both of them were wondering, in their own ways, what the kiss had meant.
For Shane, it consumed him. He had never had an encounter like Lily before in his whole life. His old girlfriends, if you could call them that, had never shared the same kind of connection he had just had with Lily. It was still too surreal for him – staring into each other’s eyes? It was such an odd and outlandish thing to do, but now he couldn’t understand why he’d never done it with anyone before.
It had shaken him, in a peculiar way. Being alone so often, and having so few interpersonal relationships beyond work, he had never really had an objective way of analyzing himself in regards to others. He had assumed he was normal, that he lived a normal life like everyone else, and had a normal temperament. He had in fact prided himself in being normal, as a way to orient himself.
Maybe I am normal, he thought as they crossed over the bridge across the creek. But now that he had seen the alternative, it was even more appealing to him. And yet, all he had ever known was his work and the urban life contained in a cubicle. The city itself was just a manifestation of the cubicle – four walls designed to keep him placated and productive.
He doubted that he could ever adopt Lily’s way of life, even if he wanted to. It wasn’t just a matter of bravery and courage. The idea of quitting his job was a paradox in his mind – part of him could see Lily’s perspective perfectly, and he longed for it. But the other part of him couldn’t escape his tendency to think about the future. That’s where he and Lily differed.
For him, the future was everything. For her, it didn’t even exist.
That night both of them avoided the topic, but kept smiling at each other. They cooked dinner together using the last of the groceries he’d bought, and teasing each other playfully the whole time. As the night grew on, Lily suggested they go outside and look at stars and he again reluctantly followed her outside. It wasn’t warm, but it was a lot better than the night before and she skipped in bare feet down the lawn again toward his Toyota.
“What are you doing?” he asked, when she reached the car and opened the back.
“These seats fold down right? Here, look, a perfect bed,” she said, hopping inside and flatting the backseats. She laid the blanket out on top and pulled herself inside, and motioned to him through the open cargo door.
He took of his own shoes and hopped in next to her. It was remarkably more comfortable than he had imagined, and he quickly pulled the heavy blanket over both of them. It was the first time he’d been this close to her, and he could feel the warmth of her small slender body pushing up against his. Both of them seemed uncertain at first, but she let out a long sigh and scooted in against his arm. He instinctively raised it and she nuzzled against his chest and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
“See?” she said.
“I think I saw a shooting star,” he said suddenly. Through the open back door they could still see the whole expanse of the valley looking north, and again just out of sight, the orange halo of Port Angeles.
“I love sleeping outside. Well, kind of outside. It makes all the difference,” she said.
“You sleep outside a lot, then?” he asked.
“Not a lot, but often. I actually have a small one person tent in my backpack. A lot of times, when I’m hitching, I’ll just choose a place off the road somewhere, or hike up a hill or a mountain, and just set camp. It’s really peaceful. I love being under the stars because it feels like everything is open. I’m not confined or restricted. I would hate being in a cage.”
“I suppose I can relate. I’ve been in a cage most of my life,” he admitted, “if an office can be called a cage.”
“I think it can. You should go camping more often,” she recommended.
“You’ll have to take me, I don’t have a tent.”
“Well, my tent is only big enough for one… but… if you wanted to get cozy, it could probably fit two people,” she said.
He could feel the heat of her breath as she spoke against his chest and wrapped his arm around her under the blanket. She recoiled at first as his hand touched her back, and it was another several seconds before she relaxed into him.
“Weird,” he said.
“You’re weird,” she snapped.
“No, not you. I mean… this. I didn’t expect to be in the mountains looking at stars. I didn’t expect you.”
“No one ever does,” she said, giggling, but suddenly her face grew cold again, and Shane wondered if there wasn’t a double entendre hiding in between her words.
“I’m just trying to-”
He felt a small finger press up against his lips and looked down and saw Lily staring up at him with a resigned look on her face, like there was nothing to say and if he did it would ruin the moment. Even in the dark her eyes caught every fragment of light and refracted it back at him like a prism, like a cat caught in the headlights of a car.
“Let’s not define this. Let’s just enjoy it, okay?” she whispered, and he merely nodded and squeezed her, and she nuzzled closer in reply.
Above them the stars explored their vast distances, some of them slipping and losing their way as they blazed out of existence on the horizon. Shane closed his eyes and for the second time in as many months or years he slept soundly and happily.
7.
On Sunday morning the sun woke him up through the window of the car. The back was still open, and it was quite a view to wake up to. It was clear again, and dawn was just clearing the peaks to the east. He struggled awake and saw that Lily wasn’t there.
“Lily?” he murmured.
He stepped out onto the meadow and looked around but there was no sign. He imagined she was probably making breakfast, and walked back up to the cabin. But before he reached the deck he heard her voice. At first he thought she was singing again to the playlist on his iPod but when he didn’t hear any music he crept closer.
It was definitely Lily’s voice, and it sounded like she was talking to someone. There weren’t any other vehicles on the meadow, and they hadn’t seen any signs of anyone since. She frowned, not wanting to invade her privacy, but curious as to the nature of the conversation. The kitchen window was ajar and he peeked around the corner and saw her pacing nervously in the living room, the old No
kia phone pressed to the side of her ear.
She kept holding her head and he could tell she was upset, on the verge of tears as she whispered hoarsely into the black phone.
“How’d they find out? I didn’t leave anything behind. No one even knew where I was going!” she exclaimed at the person on the other line. There was another moment of silence as she nodded. “No, no I can’t. Do you know where they are now? Do they know I was in Seattle? Because you have a TV, Lacey! And you’re in the department, you know these things. Are they back on my trail or not?”
Shane backed up against the wall of the cabin. A dozen scenarios raced through his mind as to what could possible shake someone as rooted as Lily. He’d never seen her scared, and had taken it for granted that she was fearless. Whether that was a symptom of having had to make a go on her own, a product of her own upbringing, or just a latent naivete on her behalf he wasn’t sure yet.
But now something had spooked her. He peeked around the corner and saw her brush away tears and hug her stomach.
“I have to go. No, it’s… it’s complicated. I can’t tell you where I am. I’m with this guy, he’s nice. No, not like that, just… I can’t get him involved. I have to go Lacey, I’ll figure it out,” Lily sobbed into the phone and promptly flipped it shut.
Shane swallowed around the lump in his throat and counted a full minute before he knocked on the door of the cabin and walked in. Lily had wiped away most of her tears but her eyes were still red and she tried her best to smile at him as he came in, and then turned the faucet on and splashed her face.
“Sleep well?” she asked, drying her face. He noticed she’d slipped the phone into the pocket of her jeans and one hand was continually resting on it.
“Yeah, it wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be,” he murmured.
“That’s good,” she said, nodding.
“Are you hungry? I was thinking I could cook up the last of the food. Then maybe we can go and get something to eat down in that village, if you wanted. I mean, it’s up to you but-”
“I don’t know, Shane.”
“Or we could go for another hike, I know you wanted to check out the other side of that ridge. I think my legs are a bit tired still, but I bet I can manage. Of course, you’ll probably still be better than me, but I was thinking we could even bring a picnic or something. It’s a nice enough day.”
Her face fell and he saw how she was struggling desperately. She bit her lip and brushed hair out of her face. “Listen, I know it’s uh… kind of sudden, but I can’t stay. I know you were probably going to spend the whole weekend here, but-”
“What’s the matter?” he asked, trying to make the question sound authentic.
“Just, something came up.”
“Drama,” he said, holding up his finger, “right. Well is that bad? I mean, I thought you were the nomad type. You never have anywhere you really have to go?”
“Usually that’s the case, yeah, this is just… different.”
“Different how?”
“I can’t go into. It’s complicated and it’s none of your business. I don’t mean that in a mean way, it’s just… you don’t want to be a part of this.”
“That’s a bit hard to hear,”
“Yeah, I know… it’s… awkward. I have to go though. You don’t have to drive me back down Shane, it’s okay… I was just going to walk it.”
“It’s like ten kilometers back down,” he said, “no, I’ll drive you, I just… is everything okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” she said, and started to fidget with her backpack.
“Are you sure?” he said, stepping forward and putting his hand on top of hers. She recoiled again and he saw a little twitch of surprise register on her face.
Lily cleared her throat. “Thanks for everything, Shane. Really.”
As they started to drive back down the road and the cabin disappeared in the rearview mirror, Shane found himself grappling with another contradiction of emotions. On one hand he couldn’t deny his feelings for Lily – in the short time they’d spend together, the quality of each and every interaction, had driven him to acknowledge feelings he had never felt before, especially not to this degree. He hesitated to call it love.
That would have been premature. They’d known each other less than forty eight hours. All his definitions of adult relationships came crashing into his psyche like a runaway freight train, and the impact of it made him feel nauseous.
What had Lily told him last night? Not to define this. That was the problem. Definitions of things – of relationships, of words like ‘love’ – they didn’t help you experience them any better or more fully, they only restricted them. He had put his own concept of love in a cubicle and let it sit there, stagnating.
That wasn’t love, he realized. Love was whatever Lily had shown him.
On the other hand there was a part of him that was angry, angry at his own inability to help her out of whatever situation she was in, and angry at her for not letting him in. That wasn’t fair, of course. Whatever he felt for Lily, he couldn’t be sure she felt the same, and it was overly hubristic to assume an intimacy where none existed. If she trusted me, she’d tell me what the hell is going on, he thought to himself resolutely.
Lily didn’t say anything to him as they bounced back down the Forest Service Road. She rested her chin on her hand again and started to chew her nails. He wanted to speak up, but at the same time he knew how futile it would be. They hit another washboard and she combed one of her long white bleached dreadlocks over her ear.
“I hope you already know this,” he began, “but you can tell me anything, you know.”
She smiled at him and didn’t say anything, but there was a tortured look on her face. He remembered the phone call he’d overheard, about she didn’t want to involve him in whatever was going on. I’m already involved, he thought.
By time they made it to Port Angeles it was the afternoon and she pointed out the parking lot in the McDonald’s again. “You can drop me off here,” she said, reaching for her backpack in the back seat again.
There was an awkward and solemn silence between them that Shane knew he couldn’t fill, and the expression on Lily’s face had become more and more conflicted the closer they’d gotten to the port city. When she finally opened the passenger door and stepped out she hid her face so that he couldn’t see her holding back tears.
“Wait, Lily… please, just tell me what’s going on, what’s wrong?” he asked, pleading.
“It’s nothing, Shane. My own problems. You can’t be a part of them, okay?” she said, pulling on the strap of her pack, “You were really sweet. I won’t forget that. Maybe… maybe we’ll see each other again.”
“Lily, I…”
“Don’t say anymore,” she said, and he realized it was for her own benefit. This was just as hard for her as it was for him, maybe more so, but she was putting on a strong face. He lowered his eyes and watched as she turned and walked down the parking lot toward the freeway, never once looking back.
There was a knot in his stomach, something he couldn’t unravel no matter how hard he tried, and he felt sick again as he clenched the steering wheel. As quickly as she had entered his life, she had disappeared, just as mysteriously.
In a daze he pulled out and started back the way he came, heading toward the cabin, but just off the turnpike he pulled over and rested his head against the steering wheel. He was full of regret – regret that he couldn’t help her, regret that he hadn’t been able to tell her how he felt, even if what they had was beyond words. It made all the difference to be able to tell someone that. It made it real.
It was impossible to just forget her. She must’ve known that. He couldn’t just go back to his life, things weren’t that simple anymore. You must’ve known that I couldn’t go back, not after what we shared, he thought to himself.
He swore viciously again and slammed both hands on the steering wheel. The impact shook the dashboard and the glove box fel
l open, and something hard clattered onto the floor. He looked down and picked up his old Pentax camera. Against his will he turned it on and flipped through the pictures he’d taken of Lily.
He thought again of their hike, the long scramble up the ridge and how he had gotten angry at her and yelled at her, and the look of disquiet on her face when he had finally caught up with her. Then they had both stared into each other’s eyes, and in that moment he had seen something – something she herself hadn’t meant to show him, but it had been a vulnerability. She was like a rock most of the time, solid and unflinching, but she had let him in just enough to give him a glimpse of something more. You can be afraid, just like the rest of us.
She could also be hurt, and he hated himself that he might’ve been the reason for it. He had never wanted to give her a reason to hate him. He closed his eyes again and tried to recall the conversation he had overheard on her cellphone, a girl’s name, something about a department. Lacey, wasn’t it? Whatever the call had been about it had shaken up Lily enough that she had wanted to leave immediately.
”God damn it, why didn’t you just be straight with me?” he shouted at himself, “I can handle it. Why didn’t you just let me in?”
He looked again at the camera and flipped to the end. The last picture was of her again, sticking her tongue out at him, a genuine look of happiness on her face.
8.
He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood and shut the camera off. No. He couldn’t let it end like that. He switched the transmission back into ‘Drive’ and pulled around, back toward the McDonald’s parking lot. She wasn’t there, and he worried for a moment that she had already been picked up. The sun was getting low on the horizon again as he drove in circles, ever expanding his circle and keeping an eye out for anyone that looked like her, and after an hour he returned to the parking lot and stepped out. He felt sick again, worried beyond belief.