by J. M. Paul
“Buenos días, muchachas y muchacho!” Milo bellowed as he exited his tent.
“Shh.” Camera in hand, I twisted from my crouched position by the flowing water to scold him.
I pointed across the vast river and down about three hundred yards to where a black bear with two cubs stood at the riverbank. The cubs jumped and frolicked in the shallow water while the mom moseyed into deeper depths to more than likely fish or take a reprieve from her cubs’ energy. It was probably as close to a relieving bubble bath as she could get.
“Holy shit.” Milo retreated slowly, as if he were the hunted prey.
I chuckled and turned back to snap another round of shots. After several frames, I switched to a telephoto lens. It would bring the bears closer, but my intent was to blur the background so the bears would be the focus, changing the perspective of the picture. The lens allowed me to pick up the details of the bears’ fur along with water droplets dripping from their mouths into the river. My prized capture was the mama bear catching a wiggling large fish and then watching her cubs devour it for breakfast.
“Oh, wow. That’s awesome.” Carly knelt down next to me.
She took a few pictures, and then we both sat and observed nature as she put on one amazing show.
“You seem happy today—well, happy for you.” Carly quickly glanced at me before returning her attention back to the family of bears.
I chuckled at her “happy for you” statement because it was true. My happy was probably a mediocre mood for most others.
Taking a cleansing breath of fresh air, I watched the sun sparkle off the flowing water, and I cherished its rays warming my skin. The mountains, trees, and wildlife surrounding our campsite seemed to steal all my inhibitions, not allowing me to feel anything but the positive and soothing energy it exuded.
This trip is exactly what I needed when I needed it.
But, even with all the beauty nature offered, I believed it was the stolen moment of intimacy between me and Bax last night that had lifted my spirits. For once, I felt optimistic about the possibility of…possibilities.
“I think I am.” I grinned.
Carly’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, yeah? What brought this on?”
As if on cue, the van’s humming engine and tires crunching across gravel sounded and made my grin grow wider.
“That’s Bax with breakfast.” I climbed the slight embankment and went back to the campsite.
It was our last day in the Smoky Mountains.
Yesterday, we had driven up to Clingmans Dome. It boasted the highest point in the park, which meant it had absolutely breathtaking views and was chilly. We had also hiked several trails before we ate dinner in Gatlinburg and drove to The Island in Pigeon Forge.
Throughout the day, things had been slightly awkward between me and Bax, but nothing had been abnormal. We hadn’t discussed what had happened the night before, which made me happy but also a little unsettled. Parts of me were warring against each other when it came to my feelings for him. He was someone I didn’t know extremely well, but it seemed like I had known him forever. My instincts told me to trust him, but my instincts had failed before.
Today’s agenda brought excitement. We were finally touring Elkmont Campground, which had a ghost town, and Cades Cove. Out of all her previous visits before she had been taken from this earth, they were two of my mom’s favorite locations in the Smokies. And I needed to feel close to her today. I felt exposed, like my thoughts and feelings were on my sleeve, and in my experience, that wasn’t good. It left me vulnerable, and vulnerability left me imperiled.
“This is kind of spooky, don’t you think?” Carly’s eyes were the size of saucers as she turned down a path that led toward a green run-down cabin.
My eyes were probably the same size, except in eagerness.
We were hiking along the Little River Trail—formerly known as Millionaire’s Row. It had been a logging town that later became a vacation destination for the wealthy to escape the summer heat.
The location had long since been abandoned, and the scattered cabins were dilapidated and halfway taken over by nature, which offered excellent photo opportunities.
I understood why the ghost town had stolen my mom’s heart. It was rich with history—her favorite subject.
Tranquility seeped from every tree and shrub along with the bubbling river. I could feel the weight of the town’s past in the air. It wasn’t hard to visualize this piece of land once bustling and vibrant with life.
A slight breeze caressed my cheeks and played through my hair, and I imagined it was my mom’s hands. When she had been alive, it was her way of calming me. I closed my eyes and asked her for guidance or for a sign as to where I needed to steer my life. Since I had stepped away from the daily threats that confined me, I felt like I was floundering. When a bird was released from its cage, it had to learn how to fly again. I wasn’t sure which direction to soar.
“Trust me, Peanut…”
My eyes flashed open in surprise at the words I swore had been whispered on the wind.
“Hey.” Bax saddled up next to me and flashed his pearly whites.
“Hey.” I was still in shock from what I thought I’d heard and having Bax suddenly next to me.
He had been with Carly and Milo on the other side of the trail by the river. I hadn’t heard his footsteps approaching, which was very unlike me.
“You found it.” He gestured toward what was unofficially known as the Troll Bridge.
The tiny structure reached about chest-high and curved over a tiny creek that led to another deserted cabin. Completely handmade, the bridge consisted of stones and cement covered in moss. I couldn’t imagine the manpower it must have taken to build such a stunning piece back in the day.
“I did.” A small grin on my lips hinted that I’d done successful research as to where it was located.
Bax shot a few pictures of the bridge and then faced me again. “You seem…content.”
“I feel…content.” As much as I can anyway. “I love it here.” My eyes flitted around the woods.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “I like seeing you like this. You deserve to be happy, Libby.” He swept away a piece of stray hair from my forehead. “I want to help you get there.”
It was murmured so quietly, I wasn’t sure if he’d actually said it or if it was the wind whispering again; it seemed to be doing a lot of talking today.
Bax ran his fingers through my hair and caressed my cheek, momentarily settling my uncertainties. A black-and-blue butterfly with orange dots fluttered around us and landed on his shoulder.
Butterflies were my mom’s favorite and I now thought of her as being one. It brought me comfort to think she came back to visit me periodically as something so graceful and lovely.
As the butterfly sat, slightly flexing its wings, Bax and I stood, smiling at each other, as something unnamed started to develop between us, something I wasn’t sure either one of us was ready for or could handle.
Message received loud and clear, Mom. Thank you.
Bax crossed his arms on the tabletop and rested his forehead on them. He shook his head back and forth as he chuckled at Milo and then groaned. The last shot of tequila must not have set well.
“Oh, come on, Me-low, you can’t let Bax show your Spanish bum up now.” I mocked Milo’s earlier condescending tone when Bax and Milo had taken their ridiculous drinking bet after entering Sloppy Joe’s Bar in Key West, Florida.
“Chica, if you call me that again, I’ll pry your mouth open and dispense half of the tequila bottle down your throat. It sounds like you have a stick up your ass when you say my name that way. I should’ve never told you I hated it.” Milo blinked slowly at me.
I grinned at his empty, slurred threat. “Forgive me, My-low. Now, shut up, and take your shot, or Bax wins the bet.” I pushed the glass toward him and raised my eyebrows in challenge.
“Ugh. Whose side are you on anyway?” Milo grumbled before setting the rim of the glass on his lip and sluggishly
tipping it back.
His face scrunched in torture, and he turned a slight shade of green. For a brief second, I thought he was going to lose the contents of his stomach, but he swallowed deeply and pulled himself together.
Milo slammed the glass on the table. “Hot damn. You out, lightweight?” He shoved Bax’s shoulder.
Before Bax could answer Milo, Bax’s phone buzzed and chirped by his elbow. I could hear him groan over the noise in the bar before he shoved the vibrating plastic rectangle toward me with his arm.
“Answer it, please,” he grumbled.
“Can’t answer your phone, chico? A la verga, you’re fucked,” Milo mocked.
Bax raised his hand and flipped Milo the bird.
We all laughed, except for Bax.
I swiped my finger over the screen. “Hello?”
There was silence on the other end, so I pulled the cell back to check the connection. The call was still linked, so I held the phone up to my ear and put a finger in my other ear to try and block the background noise.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I asked loudly.
“Um, yeah…hi. Is…can I speak to Noah?” A stunned female voice sounded.
“Excuse me?” I pressed the phone harder against my ear.
“Noah. Is Noah around?” she shouted so that her voice carried over the music, laughter, and clinking glasses around me.
“Noah? I’m sorry. You must have the wrong number,” I hollered back, not sure she could understand me.
Without lifting his head, Bax reached out his arm, and his fingers wiggled, indicating he wanted the mobile. I looked from Bax’s requesting hand to Carly’s and Milo’s confused faces.
Noah? Carly mouthed.
I shrugged and gave Bax the cell. He turned his head and put it to his ear.
“Hey, sweets,” he slurred.
Sweets?
“Yes. No. No. Mmm…”
The three of us listened to his one-sided, one-syllable conversation in shock. Bax’s lids opened, and the hazel orbs tried hard to focus on me through his alcohol haze.
“Libby,” he said as he nodded.
My brow furrowed before his head hit his forearm again.
After a little while, he answered, “Yes, the one I told you about.”
My head jerked back, and I glanced at Carly and Milo again. Their eyes were bouncing in any direction but mine.
What is going on?
“Key West. Okay, hon, talk to you soon.” On a remorseful exhale, he said, “Mmm, you, too.” He slightly shook his head and then carelessly tossed the phone on the table.
“Noah?” I questioned immediately even though I wanted to question who the girl—sweets and hon—was.
He sat up and glowered at the offending device. “It’s my first name.”
A lady released a thunderous cackle at the table next to us. A chair screeched against the hardwood floor, and a surprised squeal reverberated.
“I…I’m confused.” I scratched my cheek.
Carly and Milo appeared as puzzled as me.
“Noah’s my first name.” He shrugged.
“Then, why do we call you Bax?” Carly asked before I could.
He took a deep breath, blew it out, and ran his hands down his face. “My last name’s Baxley, and I thought…” He cleared his throat. “People just started calling me Bax for short, and it stuck.”
He appeared agitated by having to explain. It clued me into the fact that there was more to the story, but his expression said he wouldn’t expand. It made me curious, but I didn’t pry, just like he hadn’t pried into the evasive answers I tended to give.
“Dude, you were our GTA for months, and we’ve been traveling with you for how long now? How did we not know this?” Milo narrowed his bloodshot eyes.
“It never came up.” Bax—or Noah—brushed him off.
“Whatever, I don’t care.” Milo leaned his elbows on the table for support. “Either do another shot or be the loo-ou-oser,” he sang through his alcohol-thickened tongue. His voice sparkled with challenge, begging Bax to back down.
If I read Bax’s body language correctly, it told me he was keeping many more secrets than his name. It seemed to be his mission to dig at mine, so when the opportunity presented itself, I would do a little prodding of my own.
Still stiff from the subject of his name, Bax ran his hands up and down his face again, almost as if he were trying to bring feeling back into it, and nodded. When our waitress walked by, Bax yelled, “Two more shots when you get a chance.”
“Anything for you, sugar,” the tattooed blonde purred as she winked.
We made our way down Duval Street toward Mallory Square to watch the sun descend behind Sunset Key.
I kept my eyes averted from the bare full moon, only hindered by a neon-pink thong Speedo, that tried to swagger but mostly stumbled in front of us. The loser of the drinking bet was showing off more goods than anyone needed to see as he hooted and hollered at the ladies. Milo wasn’t feeling any pain, but tomorrow would be a different story.
I chuckled when Milo grabbed his barely covered junk and waggled it at a blonde girl passing by. She looked disgusted. It probably had more to do with his body paint than him even though he was bad enough.
Bax hadn’t been satisfied with Milo simply walking around in a pink thong Speedo because the guy had no shame, so Bax had paid an artist to paint two donkeys, one mounting the other, with crude parts and expressions on a strategic portion of Milo’s physique. It was wrong on so many levels, but it was also hilarious.
Even though Bax had drunk more to win the bet, he wasn’t nearly as drunk as our Mexican trip mate. While Milo was busy becoming a human canvas to donkey art, Bax had disappeared and made himself throw up. Bax’s unfocused eyes told me he definitely wasn’t sober, but he wouldn’t pay for their pointless bet as much as Milo was.
When we arrived at Mallory Square, Milo quickly became as popular as the street performers. People wanted to take pictures with him, and he ate up the attention. Completely wasted, he posed unabashedly, and now, he had several dollar bills hanging out of his skimpy attire. Carly stood to the side, keeping a close watch over him.
Leaving Milo to do his thing, Bax and I wandered over to the edge of the pier to take several pictures of the sailboats, ships, and boats floating between Key West and Sunset Key. The location was breathtaking and buzzing with activity.
A water battle between a pirate ship and the Coast Guard started just as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. An uneasy feeling of being watched came over me just as it had in Boston and New York City. I twisted toward Bax to determine if he was staring, but he had his camera focused on a large sailboat with the sun setting behind the sails.
A movement to the right caught my attention, and my stomach dropped to my feet at what I thought I had seen. Moving before I could stop myself, I wove through the crowd, panic driving me forward, to try to get a better look.
It can’t be.
“Libby?” Bax yelled from a little ways behind me.
Not able to answer, I followed the form that had the potential to make me the weakest version of myself as it zigzagged through several bodies.
When I came to a partial clearing, I stopped and anxiously searched in every direction, trying to locate what I didn’t want to be real. I came up empty.
Someone grasped my arm, and I shrieked as I spun and pushed them off me.
“Hey, hey.” Bax extended his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. It’s just me.”
“I thought I saw him. I thought he was here.” The words were rushed with alarm laced through every syllable. My pulse raced, my breath came in short gasps, and my legs felt rubbery.
“Who?” Bax’s brows drew together.
“Joel. I thought he’d found me.” Reaching for my necklace, I found it missing, so I covered my frantic heart with my hand instead.
I started to slink to the ground, unable to bear my own weight. Bax wrapped his arms around my waist to offer
support.
“Come on, let’s find somewhere to sit.” Bax led me to a wall at the side of the square.
When we sat, he released me, but he was close enough that I could feel his warmth. I took comfort in the fact that I wasn’t alone.
Vacationers milled around us, laughing and talking. Milo was still loitering by the entrance of the square, posing for pictures or joking with people.
“Who’s Joel?” Bax shifted toward me, his knee touching the side of my leg.
Heat radiated on my skin from where we were connected.
“He’s…he’s someone from back home.” I clutched my torso.
“The guy I saw you with at school? Has he…hurt you?” The words were carefully chosen.
Bax had to remember the way Joel had grasped my arm that day. The bruise had marred my skin for over a week.
“Yes. So many times, in so many ways,” I said before I thought better of it.
I was going to be sick. Just the thought of Joel being anywhere near me, even if only in my overactive imagination, made me frantic.
My hand was suddenly clasped in Bax’s, and the comfort of his touch spread up my arm and down into my chest, soothing my jittery stomach. I was quickly learning that Bax was the antidote to my fear.
“Will you tell me about it?” His thumb gently rubbed the inside of my wrist.
My eyes combed the surrounding area, still searching for the ghost that haunted my nightmares. There were so many people, so much happiness and well-being, that it felt wrong to be this mixed up over something that was only a fabrication of my anxiety.
I shook my head. “Not here.”
“The hotel?” he questioned, searching my face.
I nodded, and in mutual understanding, we headed toward Milo and Carly.
The sun had already set, but the square was still buzzing with activity. The street performers were buried deep in onlookers, their intake of money flowing.
“Hola, amigos! Qué onda?” Milo said when we approached him.
I really hated when he spoke to us in Spanish. I didn’t understand anything but the absolute basics, and it made me feel dim-witted.