by Adrian Amos
“Daddy!” I call out from inside the station wagon, “Are you almost ready?”
He comes out of the house hauling the rest of our equipment in his large bear-like arms. He's hugged me so hard before in those arms that I felt like my small frame was going to snap.
“There's been a slight change of plans, Cindy, babygirl,” he says, hiding his eyes from me. My heart sinks. When daddy hides his eyes and doubles up on my name and pet name, I know something bad is up with him.
“The trip's not canceled, is it?!” I panic.
“No,” he hesitates, “Ben's coming with us.”
Ugh, not my stepbrother! Daddy knows we don't get along that great. “Daddy, this was supposed to be a trip between us, so you can show me the world of camping! It's not fair! Ben always goes camping with you.”
“I'm sorry, babygirl, but when I told him we were going, he said he really wanted to come along.”
“Ugh, why did you even tell him?” I cross my arms and huff.
“I'm sorry,” is all he can muster.
I don't see Ben that much. He's a few years older than me and he lived with his mom the entire time growing up. He's a meathead from the Marines, physically built like his father, but mentally he doesn't hold a candle. Ray's a gentle soul; Ben's an arrogant prick. He used to give me wedgies all the time when he'd come over to visit, or pick his nose and put his boogers on the wall, or fart under the covers and hold my head under. He's always been a bully, so I was always glad to see him go back to his mom's.
But now, like always, he's going to be a big thorn in my side.
“Fine.” I shake my head, making sure daddy sees how much I disapprove of Ben's involvement.
Then I feel an inkling of doubt. What if we can't get away from Ben and he ruins the whole trip out? What if I can't get alone with daddy?
I shiver. I don't like that thought at all. I'm going to have to think of something in order to make sure daddy and I have some alone time.
I rack my brain as daddy drives us over to pick up Ben from his apartment. What to do, what to do. It's going to be too difficult to separate out in the darkness of the trees. The only thing to do is somehow keep Ben from interrupting.
I got it!
“Daddy, since I'm getting older—I know I'm not old enough yet—but I was wondering if you can buy some alcohol for us to try out?” Daddy's pretty conservative about this stuff, and he's especially protective of me to boot. So I want to lay it on hard to keep him from clamming up. “Please, daddy. I promise I won't tell mom.”
“I don't know, princess...”
“You and Ben drink all the time when you go camping. I don't think it'd be fair if you guys got to do it and all I'm stuck with is water.”
“Well, we can get you some soda.”
“Daddy, that's not the point!” It's mopey, sobby time. “I just want to feel like an adult for once. I'm 19, but you still treat me like a kid.”
Guilt achieved. “Okay, okay,” he says, “After we pick up Ben, we'll stop by the store.”
I smile to myself. If I can get Ben drunk, he might just pass out and not hear anything. I might even get daddy tipsy a little, so he can realize his love for me as well. It makes me giddy when I think about daddy loving me.
When we pull up to the apartment, Ben is already waiting outside with a few things packed up.
He slides into the backseat. “Hey, pops. Hey, booger breath.” I look at daddy and he gives me this look of apology, but I just roll my eyes, turning to look out the window.
“Hey, Ben, take it easy on your sister. It's her first time out with us, so lets try to keep it something special.”
He scoffs, “Yeah, I'll be careful around the little princess.”
I stay silent as they chat about work: daddy about the new drilling operation going on; Ben about his recent promotion to Sergeant. Ben would be a catch for a girl if he wasn't so hardheaded and such a prick. He's good looking like his father, built thick from his genes, perfected through the regiment of the Marines. They both look like bearded mountain men.
I'll admit, I've actually always been attracted to both, but where daddy looks after me, Ben is selfish, and every time he's done something to piss me off, my attraction to him wanes; or, at least, my willingness to acknowledge it severely resisted. I don't think you can just not be attracted to someone after so long, but you sure as hell can repress the shit out of it.
When we get to the store, Ben and I head straight to the liquor section, while daddy picks up some snacks to eat between any meals he catches. I have had a beer or two in my time, but I've never been a big fan of drinking, so when I come to the huge array of choices, I'm dumbfounded by what to pick up.
But I'm not looking for taste; I'm looking for alcohol content. When Ben picks out a case of beer, I catch a quick glance at the proof. That's not good enough. “Oh, I didn't know you were trying to keep your figure,” I chide him while looking the other way.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He sounds angry. Good.
“Well, it doesn't look like you're going to be any fun on this trip drinking something like that.”
His face goes red. “Like hell. I'm always fun.”
“I'm just saying, be a big brother for once and get us some drinks with a good kick to it. I don't want to be drinking all night only to end up feeling nothing.”
Ben looks me over, clearly unsure of what I'm getting at. But I know he doesn't want to seem weak—like any marine—so he puts the beer back and picks up a bottle of tequila.
Awesome. While he grabs that, I pick up a few wine coolers, making sure their proof is a lot lower than his.
“Oh,” he says, eyeing my selection, “I thought you wanted to have fun, not drink the girliest shit in the place. You're not going to feel anything on those.”
“Well, I'm not a big drinker. I think I should at least start out light.” I don't actually want to get drunk myself. I just want it to seem like I want to so that they get drunk instead. If he drinks that tequila, he'll probably pass out and won't wake up for anything. I sure as hell don't want to pass out.
“Screw that,” he says, grabbing the case out of my hand and placing it back on the shelf. “You want to goad me into drinking hard liquor, than you're going to as well.”
“Wait—“ but he's already pushing me toward the register.
Damn it. I'll just have to make sure I don't drink too much. Ugh, what a dick! I'm a good half their size, so it won't take much to fuck me up. I have to make sure that I don't try to keep up with them.
When daddy sees what we picked up, he says, “Wow. That's some heavy drinking you intend on doing. You sure you're okay with that?”
I smile, “Yes, daddy, but you know, it won't be as fun without you drinking with us.”
“I haven't had tequila in a long time.”
“Well, I've never had any, so we'll both be a little inexperienced.” I wink, my words making me tingle at their naughty undertones. I'll be inexperienced with daddy, and he'll be inexperienced with me.
He nods, “Sure, baby, we'll share.”
As we get closer to the campsite, my giddiness turns to nervous energy. We're so close it's making my mouth dry. And daddy's completely unaware of my plans. How will he react? How will he treat me? How does daddy make love? Is he as gentle as I so often imagined? So many questions spin through my mind that I start to feel lightheaded.
We park and unload everything from the truck. Off the beaten path, we approach the fabled camping ground. My daddy doesn't just go camping, he likes to go to the same spot every single time. He says the wildlife is plenty and there's a teeming river not 100 feet away. It's like it's family land at this point. It really is something special; the perfect place for us to be one, for us to start a new relationship together.
The camping spot, though far from any regulated body, is well-worn, and I imagine that it's worn from just my daddy's presence over the years, trampling the same ground multiple weeks throughout the
seasons, creating a landmark for him and Ben.
They go about setting everything up, creating a living space within only a couple of hours. I try to help but find I'm mostly in the way, so I stay to the side, setting up the small stuff and bringing them the tools they need.
Then I realize something I didn't notice before.
“Why are there only two tents?” I ask.
“Well, I only carry supplies for Ben and me, so I only have two of everything. We're just going to have to share.”
I blush. I get to share a tent with daddy!
“So you and Ben can have that tent over there, and I'll take this one here.”
My blush turns to red-faced fury. “Share with Ben?! You got to be kidding me?”
Ben only smiles, “Oh, can't sleep around you're big brother, can you?” He taunts me with my words from earlier.
“Daddy, can't I just share with you? I don't want to sleep with Ben.” Having been fantasizing all day about what was going to happen tonight, the words 'sleep with Ben' take a far more sexualized meaning in my mind that I intended. I imagine being naked with Ben, he's on top of me, and his large shoulders are pushing down on my arms as his smug mug looks down on me. And his dick is...
Jesus, get ahold of yourself. Why are you fantasizing about that douche right now?
“No,” daddy says, interrupting my unwanted nightmare, “You guys need to share. You've been brother and sister for so long, it bothers me that you two still don't get along. If anything, this should be a bonding experience for the two of you.”
I look over at Ben, who's smirking as he hammers in the stake to the tent. The size of his bicep as he swings the hammer is huge, and again, the phantom grip of his fingers on my arms is as real as ever. He looks over at me, his blistering blue eyes burning a hole, and I bite my lip, looking away as I try to keep him from peering into my thoughts.
I sigh. Plans never seem to go how I want them to.
It's already late, though, as the sun sets over the forest top. The area becomes surprisingly dark as the sun crosses the canopy, the dense woods creating an artificial night before the sun actually sets below the horizon.
Ben and Ray are already on it, starting a campfire between to long logs, which I assume they use as benches to keep warm by the fire.
I feel a slight chill come over me, and I suddenly wish I brought more than a bunch of shorts and tank tops. My shirt stops short of my belly button, and my ass comes out of the bottom of my shorts, a nice little tight fit I picked out to entice daddy, but now the skimpy outfit seems like a big mistake out in the wilderness. I'm amazed daddy didn't say anything about what I was wearing, like warning me about how cold it could get.
Hmm, maybe he didn't want me to change. A girl can hope.
As I shiver and rub my hands over my bare arms, a voice comes from behind me. “Here, sis,” Ben says, draping a long sleeve shirt over my shoulders. I quickly tuck my arms in and appreciate the sheer fabric, even if it provides barely any protection. It's still better than naked skin.
I look toward Ben, who, for what feels like the first time ever, offered something to me as an act of kindness. I never knew he even had kindness in him at all, let alone kindness toward me. My words stumble out, “T-Thank you.”
“No problem.” He heads over to a log and sits down across from daddy, who's merely gazing into the flame, a look of bliss across his stony features. He's happy to be out in his environment again.
But the flickering of the fire soon draws menacing line across daddy's face, making the mountain man seem fearsome and intimidating. I think of daddy as a kind soul, but it's moments like these when I second guess myself and wonder if he might be more austere and cruel than he treats me. He's too big to be this kind, I tell myself often, so it might be that he isn't. I just haven't seen it yet.
I gulp. What if he's more like his son than I realize? I shake my head. No, that can't be. Ben is an unmitigated snake, cruel and barbaric. But my fantasies of my daddy are not always gentle; sometimes he's a barbarian, ripping my clothes off as he ravishes my body. Something about the size of him makes me desire his strength; not the gentle image I create, but the blood-thirsty, savage wild man with no regard for my own choices. I feel like a sicko for wanting that, but my bodily urges can't be denied. It almost seems sad that I have to seduce him, rather than him taking me by force. I want to be his; I don't want to have to ask him for it.
I'm nervous about what I might find, but I want to find out what lies within him nonetheless.
I rummage through our bags, pulling out the bottle of tequila. “How about we get this party started?”
Daddy smiles and Ben shakes his head. I keep up being bubbly, “Come on. We can do some shots, right? All we got are these plastic red cups, but they should work.”
Daddy waves me over, opening the bottle for me after I struggle to even get the wrapping off. He pours us all a shot and we toast.
I'm waiting for them to drink. The smell of the tequila is so strong that I don't know if I can even taste it without gagging. I don't want to get drunk anyway.
But they're not drinking. They're watching me. “Well,” daddy says, “come on, babygirl. Lets see you drink it.”
Crap. They want to see me drink it. I have no choice: if I want them to drink, I have to at least get them started. “All right, here goes.” I hold my nose as I down the drink as fast as possible. It burns on the way down, making me wheeze and pant as the horrible taste coats my tongue. “Ugh, god that's awful.”
Both of them break out laughing. “That was worth it. Might even be worth the hangover I'm about to get,” Ben says, downing his drink like he doesn't even notice it, propositioning the cup toward daddy for a refill.
Good. You better get good and drunk fast. I don't want to wait too long.
They drink most of the bottle over the next few hours, Ben consuming far more than either of us. I can tell he's getting drunk, but I can't tell much about daddy. It's getting really late, and he's either not drunk, or really good at hiding it.
I take the occasional sip to keep up appearances. There's one problem: I just realized I'm a super lightweight. What did I expect? I'm 120 pounds on a bad day, and I've never had a real drink in my life. It probably only took that first shot to knock me on my ass.
The world swims, the fire dances, and I start to feel amazing. I can see why people like this so much! When I touch my arm, it tingles, bordering on numb.
I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling. It seems like one second Ben and Ray are talking, the next they're not. When I open my eyes again, daddy's gone.
“Where'd daddy go?” I ask, sloppily chopping my words.
“It's after midnight, sis,” he says, “He said he wanted to get a good night's rest for tomorrow.”
“Are y-you serious?” No, did daddy really go to sleep?
“Yep, yep.”
Crap. I was too drunk to make a move, to do anything. Not only that, but Ben seems way drunker than daddy, and he's still awake. I should have known a Marine would be able to hold his booze and keep going. Daddy's age is probably catching up to him.
My buzz suddenly becomes a lot less enjoyable as I become bummed out that daddy left for the night. It's too late to do anything about it now. I guess I have to do it another night, or maybe during the day, when Ben is out doing something else.
“Why so down?” Ben asks. I don't even think he's that drunk; he seems way more aware of what's going on around him than I would have thought.
“I just wanted to spend more time with daddy.”
“We're here for another 3 days. You'll have plenty of time to spend with him, and plenty of time to grow bored of him.”
“I'm not going to get bored of him,” I haughtily say.
He laughs, “Yeah, you will.” He gets up and comes over to me, sitting on the log next to me. He whispers, “Pop's not exactly a laugh riot.”
“I think he's great.”
He scoffs, imbibing another shot. “Yea
h, you would.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
He rolls his eyes. “He treats you like a princess, but he barely even talks to me.”
I tilt my head back, confused. “What?”
“How do you not get this? He's always been around for you, and you're not even his kid. Me? I've been with my mom most of my life and my dad doesn't even visit. I usually have to imp”—he hiccups—“impose. I never get invited anywhere.”
I don't believe him. “You guys go on trips together all the time? He's never taken me.”
“Pops has invited me, maybe, a handful of times on these trips. I usually have to beg him to bring me along, so we can spend time together.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“But he never seems like he doesn't care about you.”
“Maybe that's only when you're around. He doesn't want you to know that he doesn't care.”
Was I right? Does daddy really have a mean streak in him that I don't know about?
I shake my head. “Daddy cares about you. He cares about me.”
“Maybe,” he says, hesitating. He clears his throat, “Not like I care about you.”
Ben places his hand on my knee, the tingling returning when his large hand contacts my soft skin.
“You care about me?” I ask, completely shocked.
“Yes,” he says, stone cold serious.
But his face doesn't change my opinion. “You're joking, right?” I gently remove his hand, putting it back on his lap.
“No, not at all.”
I stand up, shaking my head. “No, you're definitely joking. The way you treat me is not the way someone who cares would act.”
He stands, swaying slightly. “I'm sorry.” His apology is jarring, as I can't remember him ever apologizing for anything he's ever done to me. “I care about you a lot... but I've also been jealous of pop's affection for you. It seems like he wants you all to himself and pushes me away in the process.” He reaches out and touches my hand, “I lash out at you sometimes. It's childish, I know. I'm really sorry that I can't control it.”