“You have to see this. Come here.” Katie leaned to the side. Christy joined her and peered into the darkness. The flashlight caught on something by the fire pit that shone back at them like a dozen tiny, round reflectors.
“Tonio’s baboons,” Katie said.
“Man, Tonio wasn’t kidding. Look at all those raccoons. What are they eating?”
“Fish guts.”
“Gross.”
“I wonder if Tonio left them out on purpose?” Katie twirled her small light around. The eight or nine scrawny raccoons continued to devour their treat, unmoved by Katie’s attempt to scare them away. “That is one gang of mean-looking raccoons.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t get them all nervous with your light,” Christy suggested.
Katie laughed. “Why? You afraid they’re going to turn on us after the fish guts and come pouncing over here, clawing their way into our tent?”
“I’d feel better if they went away. Can we zip the tent back up? It’s freezing.”
Katie pulled herself back in the tent and zipped it up. “Do me a favor and don’t wake me again unless it’s something over six feet tall.” She burrowed back under her blanket and added, “With dark hair and brown eyes and lots of money.”
Christy had to smile. No matter how upset Katie got, she never lost her sense of humor. “So is that your latest criteria for the man of your dreams? Tonio could almost fill that, you know. Except for the height.”
“And the money,” Katie added.
“What? You don’t think his family has money?”
“Call me crazy, but I’m thinking only really poor people go camping without sleeping bags. Or food.”
“I guess that makes us really poor people, doesn’t it?” Christy curled up into as tight a ball as she could on top of the wool sweater and tucked the blanket all around her in hopes that the cocoon method would make her feel warmer. “So how are things going between you and Tonio?”
“Fine.”
Christy waited for more details. When Katie didn’t offer any, Christy prodded. “Do you think you guys might have some feelings for each other like you had last summer?”
“It’s all just a game, Christy,” Katie said in a low voice. “You know that. I’m nothing special to him. It’s no big deal.”
“But how does that make you feel?”
“It’s my life, Chris. I’m everybody’s buddy and nobody’s honey.” Katie adjusted her position and added, “I don’t want to talk about guys right now. I’m really, really tired. Can we get some sleep?”
“Sure,” Christy said, wishing she felt warm enough to sleep. She tried rubbing her legs together and pulling the blanket over her head.
Katie’s rhythmic breathing soon indicated she had fallen asleep. Christy lay awake for hours, shivering. None of her thoughts could be trusted, but she allowed all of them to parade before her. Thoughts of Todd. Thoughts of what would come next for them in their relationship. Thoughts of getting married. Thoughts of what precise words she would use when they finally had their heart-to-heart talk.
When dawn came, Christy felt exhausted. She wanted to drop off into a deep, dreamless sleep. But the others were up with the birds, coaxing Christy to join them for some of Antonio’s specialty coffee.
She gave in, thinking the coffee would at least wake her up. Crawling out of the tent with the blanket around her shoulders, Christy couldn’t believe how grungy she felt. Her face and teeth felt sticky, her hair was a tangled mess, and she knew she now carried with her the disagreeable odor of the knit sweater she had slept on all night.
Todd, however, looked fresh and friendly. He bent down and reached for the coffeepot on the grill. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked, holding out a coffee mug to Christy.
She replied with a groan before sipping the strong coffee, trying hard not to make a face. Tonio’s special morning brew had to be the thickest, strongest coffee she had ever tasted. If she had a spoon, she could have eaten it like hot pudding. He had added lots of sugar, which made it seem even more like a dessert than a beverage.
“This should wake me up,” she said, noticing that Todd’s hair was wet. So was Antonio’s. “You guys didn’t tell us they had showers here. Which way?”
Antonio’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “Right through there.” He pointed to the trail through the trees. “Same place where we get our food.”
“Very funny,” Katie said. The morning sunlight poured through the trees like golden syrup, spilling all over Katie, who sat on a log, sipping her coffee.
“How cold is the water?” Christy asked.
Todd and Antonio looked at each other. “It’s refreshing,” Todd said.
Christy knew all about Todd’s idea of “refreshing” water. “Would it be okay if I use this pot to heat some water?” Christy bent down to pick up a well-used cooking pot and noticed part of a fish head in the dirt. “Did you guys leave the fish guts out on purpose for the raccoons last night? Those were mean-looking critters.”
“I heard you and Katie talking to them in the middle of the night,” Todd said.
“We were not talking to them,” Katie stated. “We were talking about them. There’s a big difference.”
Christy took another sip of coffee and deduced that if Todd was awake, listening to them talk about the intruders, that meant Antonio was the one doing all the snoring. Somehow that little bit of information brought great comfort to her.
“What’s on the schedule for today?” Christy asked. What she really wanted to ask was “When do we pack up and get out of here?”
“Antonio and I were just leaving to get breakfast,” Todd said. “Do you two want to come with us?”
“Sure. Are you driving into town?” Christy thought the idea of breakfast at a quaint roadside café sounded wonderful, but she was far too grubby to go as she was. She hoped they wouldn’t mind waiting for her while she cleaned up.
Tonio laughed.
“They’re going back to the refrigerator for breakfast,” Katie said. “Doesn’t some fresh fish sound good to you right about now?”
“Oh. In that case, I think I’ll stay here and warm up by the fire. I was freezing all night.”
“Doesn’t look like you got much sleep,” Antonio said.
“I didn’t.”
Katie decided to go with the guys, and as soon as they left, Christy slipped into the tent to snatch Katie’s blanket. She headed for the hammock, which was bathed in a stream of sunlight. Within minutes she was wrapped up in the scratchy wool and rocking herself into a deep sleep.
When the others returned with the fish, Christy could hear them discussing whether they should wake her. She was too groggy to respond. Even when the scent of fried fish floated her way, Christy kept snoozing.
She didn’t wake until hours later when the sound of a rattling metal pot roused her from her stupor. Through bleary eyes Christy saw a mangy cat prowling for treats among their cooking gear.
“Get out of there,” Christy shouted. She untwisted herself from the blankets and tumbled out of the hammock. The day around her had turned warm, and even though the sun had shifted and the hammock was in the shade, she had been sweating inside her tightly wrapped nest.
“Katie? Todd? Antonio?”
No answer.
Christy noticed a piece of a cardboard box propped up in front of her tent. It looked as if her friends had left a note written with the end of a burned twig. All it said was “Went hiking.”
“That’s great, you guys,” Christy muttered. “Leave me all alone in the wilderness with a gang of wild animals on the prowl for fish guts.”
Christy’s feelings of abandonment lasted only a few moments. She was determined to get cleaned up. Unzipping the tent, she was assaulted by the horrible smell of the pungent wool sweater. She pulled out the sweater and hung it over a low tree branch to air it out. Then she returned to the tent, changed into her bathing suit, and collected everything she needed for a refreshing wash. She headed d
own the trail to the “refrigerator.”
To her surprise, the lake was close. The trees were so thick that they blocked the view from the campsite. She noticed two boats on the shimmering blue water. One was an old, wooden rowboat manned by two boys who appeared to be fishing. The other was an aluminum fishing boat with a small outboard motor, making all kinds of noise as it skimmed across the water. To the right of Christy stood a small bridge.
Tightening her towel around her waist, she strode over to the bridge and discovered a narrow stream that fed into the lake. Two children floated on an inner tube as the stream carried them on a leisurely journey to the lake. “Ciao!” one of them called to her. She waved back and smiled.
Christy walked along the stream’s shore until she came to a sun-baked gravel cove where the shallow water felt warm to her touch. With careful steps and a deep breath, she waded in and lowered herself into the water. The cool, refreshing sensation shocked her and delighted her at the same moment. Turning on her back, she floated with her face to the sun.
I feel like such a nature child! This is exactly what Todd said it was, refreshing.
Christy undid her long braid and reached for her soap and shampoo. Luxuriating in the shallow water, she hummed as she lathered up. A small brown bird perched on a low branch a few feet away and cocked its head at Christy as if trying to figure out what she was doing. With slow movements, Christy leaned back and dipped her hair into the water to rinse it. The current from the middle of the stream pulled her tresses away from her head.
I feel like I’m in that old oil painting in the university library. The one with all the women swathed in sheer ivory fabric as they bathe at some primeval cove with fat cupids fluttering around the waterfall.
Christy didn’t see a single flying cupid as she emerged from the stream and dried off. But the exhilarating sensation of being refreshed fluttered about her as she made her way back to camp.
The others still weren’t back yet, so after she changed, she took extra time brushing her hair and letting it air dry in the glorious sunshine. From a campsite not far away came the sound of children’s laughing. It made her think of the children at the orphanage where she worked in Basel.
For a long while Christy rocked herself gently in the hammock and did something she hadn’t had the luxury of this past school year. She thought about her life, her future, her hopes, and her dreams. She evaluated her school experience in Basel and thought about how much the work at the orphanage drained her emotionally.
What am I doing wrong, God? I want to serve you, and I thought I was by helping at the orphanage. But it has worn me out. Is that the way it’s supposed to be?
The only answer to her questions was the sound of the wind in the branches above her.
And what about Todd? What’s next for the two of us? Does he still want to live on some remote island and serve you by being a Bible translator to an unreached tribe? Am I the only one who’s thinking about us getting married someday?
She knew God was listening to her heart. It had never been difficult for Christy to believe that God heard and saw and knew. Gazing up into the pale blue sky that was now streaked with feathery, thin white clouds, Christy whispered, “But really, Lord, could you see me living on a tropical island? I mean, bathing in the stream is about as close to roughing it as I’ve ever come. You wouldn’t really have that in mind for the rest of my life, would you?”
Christy tried to convince herself that river bathing wasn’t that terrible. It was actually sort of exotic. She pictured herself sleeping every night in a hammock like the one she swayed in now. She thought about eating fish every day. Fish and mangoes. Todd liked mangoes.
Cooking outside is fun. I do love seeing the stars at night. But I can’t stand the way everything gets dirty so fast. Dirty and smelly. And being hungry, like I am right now.
Christy found the remainder of Todd’s beef jerky in the van and ate it. She glanced around their remote campsite and began to feel less exhilarated about her solo afternoon. The surrounding woods, with their curious birds and slumbering, nocturnal wild raccoons, no longer felt enchanting. For months she had been on a rigid schedule and constantly around other people at school and at the orphanage. Many times she had wished for an afternoon exactly like this one, in which she could be all alone to think and daydream. But now she was ready for her friends to return. It was too quiet.
To busy herself, Christy collected lots of wood and cleaned up the campsite. She lit a fire and hiked down to the stream, where she filled the large pot with water and hauled it back to camp.
Maybe I could learn to be an organic, wilderness-type woman after all. This isn’t so bad.
After heating the water, she washed the frying pan, their four coffee mugs, and four forks. Every time she heard the slightest noise, she looked around, expecting to see her friends returning from their hike. When the late afternoon shadows stretched across the campsite, Christy started to feel irritated as well as frightened.
Why did they leave me alone like this for so long? We should have a few rules on this trip, such as never leave anyone alone for an entire day.
Just then she heard footsteps coming through the woods, and she got ready to deliver the lecture of her life to her so-called friends for putting her through this agony. However, the footsteps didn’t belong to Todd, Antonio, or Katie. They belonged to a man wearing a plaid cap and a thick knit sweater like the one Christy had left on the branch to air out. He carried a string of medium-sized fish and greeted Christy in Italian.
“Ciao,” she replied without much expression. She hoped if she acted as if she meant to be here all alone and as if she knew what she was doing, the man would keep on walking past her campsite.
But he entered. And he spoke to her again in Italian.
Christy thought fast. During her time at school, she had learned the best response was to answer in German.
“Ich verstehe nicht,” she said, which meant, “I don’t understand.”
The man moved closer to where Christy sat by the fire pit and spoke to her again, with longer sentences and more hand gestures.
“Ich verstehe nicht,” Christy said quickly.
Undaunted, the man continued to speak. He removed two of the fish from his line, then pulled at his sweater and laid the fish in the clean frying pan.
“I don’t understand you,” Christy said.
With more hand gestures, the man removed another fish, laid it in the pan, and patted his chest. He looked at her as if waiting for an answer.
“Danke” was all Christy could think to say, assuming, hopefully, that he was just being a kind person and sharing his daily catch with her since it was obvious she had no dinner cooking in her pot. Then, because she remembered how to say thank you in Italian, she added, “Grazie.”
“Prego,” the man said with a nod of his head. He said something else, patted the sweater again, and was on his way.
Christy sat frozen. Only her eyes moved from the man’s retreating back to the fish in the pan. The distinct odor of fish guts hovered over her. It was more than fish guts, though. It was the strong scent of fish guts mixed with lining from the bottom of a bird cage and the bottom of a farmer’s boot.
Oh no! Christy jumped up and dashed around to the back of the tent by the trail’s opening. She looked around where she had hung Tonio’s smelly sweater. It was gone.
4
Before Christy could run after the fisherman and demand that he return Antonio’s stinky sweater, Todd’s voice called to her from the woods, “Hey, Christy! You awake yet?”
She ran down the trail, met him halfway, and flew into his arms. But her hug lasted less than two seconds. With a frustrated push against his chest, she said, “Where were you guys? You left me here alone! Some guy came and traded me fish for Antonio’s sweater, and I didn’t know what was going on!”
Todd seemed to be looking at her hair, which hung straight down over her shoulders and was tousled wildly from her running about
. “You smell good,” he said.
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“Yes. He left you with three fish. Have you started to clean them yet?”
Christy looked at Todd incredulously. “No.”
“Come on, I’ll help you. Tonio and Katie are going to be here in a few minutes.”
“Where were you guys?”
Todd grinned. “We got turned around on our hike.”
“You were lost?”
“A little.”
“How can you be a little lost, Todd? Either you’re lost or you’re not.”
Todd slipped his arm around Christy’s shoulder. He seemed amused by her raving comments and acted as if nothing were wrong.
Christy became acutely aware of how good she smelled in contrast to how Todd smelled. And when the other two arrived and gathered around the fire pit while Todd cleaned the fish, Christy realized how pointless and rather agonizing it was to be the only clean, sweet-smelling person in a group.
She apologetically told Antonio what had happened with the fish and the sweater.
He laughed. “You should have held out for five fish, minimum. My grandmother made that sweater. Next time, hold up your fingers like this and say, ‘Cinque.’ ”
“Your grandmother made it? Antonio, I feel so bad.”
“No, don’t. It was an old sweater. She makes me one every Christmas.”
“It’s actually a God-thing, Christy,” Katie said. “Can you imagine how long it would take us to catch some fish for dinner? This is perfect. We get back, and dinner is waiting. Well, almost waiting. Provided, at least.”
Katie continued to talk, bubbling over with stories of their beautiful hike, how she was certain they must have walked at least thirty miles, and that she would never agree to go anywhere with those two again.
“Believe me, Christy, you made the right choice to stay here and sleep all day. I’m exhausted. And starving. This living off the bounty of the land takes time, doesn’t it? Is there any beef jerky left?”
“No, I ate it.”
“How long before the fish is ready?” Katie asked.
“Not long,” Tonio said, fanning the fire and feeding it more of the twigs Christy had collected.
Until Tomorrow Page 3