Bros

Mike awoke to the sound of the doorbell. He looked at the clock and tried to make sense of things.

“What the… My God! It’s two-thirty.”

Then the knocking began. He went to investigate, hoping not to wake his wife, Sarah.

The banging continued. Mike peered out and saw his brother, Griff, standing under the porch light.

“Hey Bro! Let me in! I’m cold.”

Mike opened the door. “What do you want, Griff? Come back tomorrow. Everyone’s asleep.”

“C’mon Mike. I’m freezing. I need a place to crash.”

Mike let him in. Griff made a show of how cold he was.

“Pipe down, Griff. People are sleeping.”

They walked into the living room. Griff tossed his backpack and collapsed onto the sofa.

“Make yourself at home, Griff. What’s it been, two years?”

“At least.”

“Understandable considering I told you not to come back.”

“Yeah. What was that about, anyway?”

“Let me see. The drinking? The toking? Oh, I remember. You were parading around in your birthday suit, in front of Charlotte.”

“That was an accident. I told you, I didn’t know she was home.”

“Right…”

Mike saw Sarah peek around the kitchen door. He waved her off.

“So what brings you around tonight? You on the lam?”

That moment’s hesitation said it all.

“What’d you do?”

“It wasn’t me, Mike.”

“Never is…”

“I was with some friends. But they pulled a job before I got with them.”

“Uh-huh… So why run?”

“You know how it is. Once you have a record, no one will cut you a break.”

“You know, Griff, there’s a thing called a learning curve.”

 

“Cut the crap, Mike. You messed up too. I remember some of… what you call ‘misadventures’.”

“Uhm, in high school…”

“Uncle Griffy!”

Mike and Griff looked up to see Charlotte, Mike’s eight year old. She ran to Griff and gave him a hug.

“Hi, sweetheart! How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve gotten so big!”

“I have?”

“Charlotte, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“You know you should be in bed.”

“But I wanted to say hello…”

“Okay. You said hello. Now go back to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

Charlotte made a pout.

“You know the rules…”

“Okay, Daddy.” She kissed Griff on the cheek. “Bye Uncle Griffy.”

“Bye, Cherry.” Charlotte giggled and ran back to her room. Mike and Griff watched her go. They heard her door close.

“Griff…”

“I get it, Mike. I’ll clear out first thing.”

“When did you sleep last?”

“Seems like days.”

“I’ll get you a blanket.” Mike stood and went to the linen closet. He grabbed a sheet and a blanket from the top shelf and returned.

“I can’t tell you, Mike…”

“Then don’t. When I come out in the morning, I want you gone.” Mike started away.

“Thanks, bro. You’re the best.”

Mike turned to Griff. “You need new friends, Griff. Take care of yourself. This gets old.”

Griff looked at Mike. It was hard to read him. Mike interpreted his expression as a mix between ‘yada, yada’ and ‘I hear you, bro. I never heard that before.’

“Oh, Mike.”

“What?”

“I have a big favor to ask.”

“Another?”

Griff rummaged in his backpack. He pulled out a black plastic bag. Whatever was in it had serious heft.

“Can you babysit this for me? Just a few days.”

“What is it?”

“Just a pistol I got stuck carrying. Don’t worry. It isn’t mine. It would mean a lot to me.”

“Griff…”

“It’s clean, Mike. Nothing to worry about.”

“Let me see it.”

Griff handed him the bag. Mike unwrapped it and without touching the weapon, gave it a quick scan. The serial number had been demolished.

“You really never learn, do you? So this isn’t yours?”

“Nope.”

“It could have been used by anyone. For anything.”

“You don’t listen. I told you it’s clean.”

Now it was Mike’s turn to stare.

“You don’t have to believe me.”

“Have you ever listened to yourself?”

“You want me to go? Fine. I’ll go.”

Griff grabbed his backpack and stood up. He reached for the pistol. Mike held onto it.

Griff said, “Make up your mind, Mike. What is with you?”

“I would ask you the same thing. Who gave you this? You think they’re a friend? You’re being set up. Respect yourself.”

“They don’t have anything on me. If they pick me up and I don’t have that, I’ll walk. Don’t you get it?”

“Griff, you’re not seventeen anymore. Grow up.”

“You speak to me with such superiority. Look at you.” Griff waved his arms around. “You and your fireplace and white picket fence…”

“I work hard, Griff. I have my family to think of.”

“You care about your family? Aren’t I your family? What about me?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yes, Griff. You’re my family too. My little brother. Why don’t you start acting like it?”

Mike saw Sarah by the door. He waved her off again. She left.

“I asked you a favor. Do this and you’ll never see me again. Is that what you want?”

“It’s late Griff. Get some sleep.”

Mike kept the pistol and walked away. Griff watched him go. He flopped onto the sofa and shut his eyes.

When Mike entered the bedroom, Sarah was awake, sitting in the dark. He stowed the pistol in his sock drawer. He got into the bed carefully and then saw Sarah looking at him.

“Don’t worry Sarah. I have it under control.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I said, ‘don’t worry’. He won’t bother us again.”

“But what…”

“What did I say?”

“I don’t want him here.”

“He’ll be gone soon enough.”

“Mike, I…”

Mike got out of the bed and looked out the window. He picked up his phone and dialed.

Griff awoke to red flashing lights coming through the front window. He started swearing as he ran this way and that.

Mike entered and let two policemen in. Griff bolted toward the rear of the house but they grabbed him and cuffed him.

Griff looked at Mike in desperation. “What did you do? How could you? You’re my brother!” He cursed Mike and Sarah.

Sarah and Charlotte stood in the hall embracing against the draft from the open door. They watched the officers escort Griff out.

A third policeman entered and spoke to Mike. “Thanks for the tip. You all okay now?”

“We’ll be fine. Oh, you might want to take this with you. His backpack.”

The cop was surprised at its weight. Their eyes met. “Thank you, sir. Will you be willing to testify in court?”

“All I know is, he showed up about 2:30 this morning. He seemed anxious. Haven’t seen him in two years.”

The policeman shook Mike’s hand and left. Mike bolted the door.

“Let’s get some sleep!”

Charlotte ran back to her room. Sarah took Mike’s arm as they returned to the bedroom.

Mirage

It felt like being in a crowded parking lot when someone way up ahead is waiting for that choice spot. No one can move in or out. Or forward.

Only we were in the desert, not in a parking lot. There were no cars around. Not even a road. Scrub, dust and old rock, filled our view all the way to the pass leading to Mirage, our destination.

Oh yeah, it was stifling hot.

The three of us walked steadily, but we made no discernible progress. We were on a hot, dusty treadmill.

Avery and Joe were my companions. We had water, extra shoes, sunblock and our purpose – a package to deliver.

Joe makes a great companion. But he reminded me of walking on the beach with a five-year-old, who keeps a good pace unless they see a shell or shiny object revealed by the receding surf. Keeping him on task was a task in itself.

And he talked non-stop about returning to his favorite city, Summit. He pointed to it in the distance but I couldn’t see it. At our altitude, it should have been obvious. Joe described its alabaster walls rising into golden sunlight and shady trees laden with delicious fruit. He indicated a bright spot at the base of the mountain to the right of our pass. It looked less a city than a yellowish stain on the surrounding rock.

I told him we would visit if we had time.

Avery also spoke without pause, about his brilliant sapphire city. A city only he could see. He pointed to it, but we saw only sun-baked rock and not a sapphire in sight. His description made us yearn for this oasis filled with soaring towers and vast rolling parks.

On the far side of the pass lay Mirage, obscured by clouds. Isn’t a mirage something seen which isn’t there? Why name something you can’t see, Mirage? I kept that thought to myself.

We walked all day in the relentless sun. At dusk, we set camp in a dry gulch. We still had plenty of water but dug down to see if we could find more. We found very dry dust.

“Are you sure we should be here? What about flash floods?”

“It’s summer, Joe. It doesn’t rain in the desert, come summer.”

“But what about all those lightning flashes over in the mountains?”

“Heat lightning. No rain.”

Then Avery asked, “What about snakes?”

“Sit up and watch for them. Or climb something high, so they won’t sneak up on you.”

“Like those rocks?”

“Sure.”

Joe said, “Don’t listen to him, Avery. They live in the rocks.”

Neither Avery nor Joe seemed happy with my answer. There weren’t many alternatives.  I didn’t bring up scorpions.

We set up the tent and sat around the campfire until late. Avery pointed into the darkness. We could see the glowing eyes of coyotes watching us.

“How do you know they’re coyotes?”

“Wait a bit, Joe. They’ll be yipping at the moon.”

“Those glowing eyes creep me out. Sure they’re not spirits?”

“It’s from the fire.”

“But the fire flickers. Their eyes just glow, steady.”

A shot rang out. I threw something at Avery. “Damn it, Avery! Stow it. You want to kill someone?”

Avery holstered his pistol. “I didn’t even scare them. Think they’re spirits.”

“Do that again and you’ll join them.”

“They’re spirits…”

“No reason to shoot at them then. Guns can’t kill spirits, and coyotes aren’t worth spending bullets on.”

The next morning, Joe’s city hardly took us out of our way. Only Summit no longer existed. Barely ruins. No stone atop another. Yet there remained a certain beauty like the shattered bits of a Christmas ornament.

Dust and scrub hid shards of what might have been, like bone fragments strewn about. Foundation outlines emerged in places, like calcified shadows. The city was long since gone. Sun and distance had played a trick on our hopeful eyes.

We continued onward with only Joe looking back in bewilderment.

Avery pestered us about visiting Sapphire. At best, it would be out of our way and delay us. I couldn’t see it. I wanted to get to Mirage.

Avery said he saw it, but it receded as we approached. Then even Avery admitted it was gone. We never did find it. We could discover no sign of it on high ground nor in the glens. Avery’s brilliant city existed only in words.

Finally, Joe, who was sympathetic to the search, called it quits.

“This is pointless. Let’s go.”

Avery resisted. “But it was here. I saw it.”

“It’s not here now.”

“Let’s camp here. We’ll make it to Mirage in the morning.”

We set camp but the wind picked up and sent sparks flying.

“The last thing we need is a wildfire.” We doused the fire and ate our dinner cold, in the dark. No glowing eyes watched from the distance.

I dreamed a great black cat nuzzled me like its own. It could have swallowed me whole. I was completely at its mercy. But it licked me like a cub. Vulnerable terror dissolved into peaceful surrender.

The coyotes woke me. They sounded like crying babies. I lay in the great silent darkness, awake yet still comforted. We were in the great, benign wilderness.

On the third day, we arrived in Mirage. We left at dawn and descended through the pass into the fog. We never saw the sun.

Mirage could have been named almost anything. ‘Dismal’ came to mind as we surveyed the tiny harbor in the muted light. Decrepit boats rose and fell as small swells sleep-walked to the shore. Despite the activity, it all felt stagnant.

Expecting a mansion, we found a modest house on a quiet street. The door opened at our knock and we were shown into the owner’s living room. It felt good to sit.

We never knew our host’s name. He entered with his assistant and nodded to us when we stood. He sat behind what looked like a vintage kitchen table.

I produced the package. The assistant opened it with a small knife. He removed the wrapping paper and placed the decorated wooden box on the table where our host admired it.

He pulled it open, smiled and sighed.

“I love these,” he said as he tipped the box and poured hundreds of gold coins across the table.

Wide-eyed, Joe and Avery exchanged glances with me. Our host picked up three coins and offered one to each of us. Then he picked up a coin and deftly pulled the foil covering away to reveal a chocolate interior.

We were silent as our host gleefully ate his ‘coin’.

He gestured at us. “Eat! Eat! Don’t you like them?”

We dutifully unwrapped and ate our chocolates.

The assistant brought tea. We drank greedily. We couldn’t thank him enough.

Our host stood, prompted by a signal from his assistant. He thanked us profusely and left the room. That was it.

“I’ll show you the door.” We followed the assistant to the front door where he produced a cloth flour sack. “This is for you. Thank you for your troubles.”

Once outside, Joe and Avery pressed me to look into the sack.

“That’s it? What’s our payment? Kumquats?”

“Just so it’s not chocolate coins…”

I pulled out a gold coin, bit it and announced we were not fools. Joe and Avery cheered and slapped each other’s backs in congratulations.

Darkness joined the gloom as we walked back into town. We found a hotel in which we could eat and count our reward. The ordeal of our journey receded with rest and sustenance.

I slept long and deep.

Mirage held little of interest for us. We checked out of our rooms and replenished our supplies at a local hardware.

Joe and Avery were free to go their way. But we decided unanimously on our next course of action. We returned the way we came.

Once back to Summit, we set camp. In the morning, Joe and Avery began selecting the best stones. I scouted the hills for trees we could cut for lumber.

We began to build.

From a Balloon

Greta watched the world go by. And yet there it remained.

In her ninety years, she couldn’t understand how the human race continued to exist. Everyone lived through chance encounters, like molecules of air colliding with each other. Yet somehow, things got built. Babies were born. Civilizations rose and fell and were replaced by newer, better, shinier civilizations. How did all this happen?

Greta spent most of her life alone. Even when married, she had felt alone. Was that her fault? Or is that just how things are? The demands made upon her outweighed the benefits received. At least that is how she saw it.

Every day she sat in the park and pondered; how the hell did I get here?

She remembered the days of the blitz in London. She came home from school one day to discover her building and her family gone. Blown to bits by Nazi bombs. Social workers put her with other kids on a bus out of London to safety. She remembered watching the distant smoke rise. And the military observation balloons suspended far overhead.

Those balloons became a model for how she saw things, tethered to earth yet disconnected from everything. She fantasized cutting their cables and setting them free. Did they shoot ten year-olds for being spies?

They brought her to a farm and put her to work. In exchange for her labor, she received room and board. After the war, distant cousins in America took her in. She always felt a barely tolerated guest who had over-stayed. But she had nowhere else to go. Once grown, she and they lost their tenuous connection. She went her way.

It occurred to her that other people had connections to each other, which she did not. Greta felt they must.

Life felt like she rode alone on a train which passed other trains occupied by passengers also surrounded by solitude. Destinations unknown.

Nowadays, she sat in the park watching people. Many, especially children, spent their precious time sitting, swiping away on their smart phones. No real connections there. Yet, someone provided these devices. Someone built them, marketed them, and empowered them to fill the time. Who were those people? Did they have deep connections to those surrounding them?

Young couples strolled by, laughing and talking. The man laid his hand on the woman’s waist. Guiding her where? The woman smiled broadly at him and laughed.

But Greta could see distance in their eyes. She saw they were desperate to connect, unaware connection is a myth. Commercials on TV promise connection if only you buy their product. Greta bought lots of things but never felt connected.

Summing up her life, Greta would say it boiled down to people getting what they could. There might be fair exchanges. Of course, one gets the sandwich in exchange for its price. But she saw nothing more, nothing deeper.

A tree grows and then drops its leaves.

The puddle evaporates, and then it rains. The system seems to work. It always had.

But Greta wanted more. Even though she knew the myth of human connection, something within her craved it. What would it be like?

Who invented this myth? How would anyone conceive of it in the first place, if it were mere fantasy? Just to sell products meant to satisfy a gnawing, but imaginary hunger?

A ball rolled to a stop at Greta’s feet. A young boy ran toward her from a clutch of others. Greta instinctively stepped on the ball to keep him from taking it.

The boy stopped short, surprised. Grownups don’t act like that.

“May I have my ball back?”

“It’s mine. It came to me.”

“Billy accidentally hit it too hard. I couldn’t catch it.” The boy pointed back to the others who watched.

“Billy will learn his lesson, won’t he?”

“Maybe…” The boy struggled to understand. “Please? May I have it back?”

“What will you give me?”

“I don’t have anything. Oh, wait. Do you want some gum?” He reached into his pocket.

“Keep your gum.”

Greta nudged the ball toward him with her foot. “There you go.”

The boy picked it up and threw it toward his friends. He turned back to Greta. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

“Greta. And yours?”

“Thomas.”

“Nice to meet you, Thomas.”

“Do you want to talk?”

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Under his breath Thomas said, “Kids are kind of boring.”

Greta bit her tongue. “But why talk to me?”

“You’re alone. I thought you might like some company.”

“What would you like to talk about, Thomas?”

“I don’t know. Grown-ups have good stories.”

“They do?”

“Kids don’t know anything. Grown-ups know a lot.”

“So you want me to entertain you?”

“If you want. Or teach me. Or just pass the time.”

“You want to take my time, then.”

“Only if you want. I’ll give you mine.”

“A fair trade then.” Thomas nodded. “Come sit. What would you like to hear about?”

Thomas crawled onto the bench. He thought for a moment. “Tell me about when you were a kid.”

“Now that is a topic… Let’s see. I remember going into the country when I was about your age. There were these giant balloons up in the sky. Big enough for people to ride.”

“Wow!”

“They were attached to the ground with long, uhm… ropes. Yes, ropes.”

“Like giant kites?”

“Well they were balloons. With men up in them. And they could see way off into the distance.”

“That’s cool.”

“I always wished I could go up in one and fly away.”

“Where would you go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Someplace away from… away from all the fighting.”

“They were fighting when you were young? I mean, when you were my age?”

“I think there has always been fighting, Thomas.”

“Oh…” Thomas looked down. “But if there is fighting all over, where would you go?”

Greta paused. She didn’t know how to answer this.

“I guess I’d just keep going up, then.”

“All the way to heaven?”

“Heaven?”

“You know. Where God lives?”

“Oh that place. I don’t know… I doubt if they would let me in there.”

“Why? Were you bad?”

Greta smiled at Thomas. “I may not have been so bad, Thomas. But I’m not so sure I am always so good either. I hear it’s pretty exclusive.”

“Oh… My Mom said that isn’t how it works.”

“Really? What does she say?”

“Well, she says people get it backwards.”

“How so?”

“She says, being ‘good enough’ is like trying to buy your way in. If that’s true, then only the rich would get in. Do you think only the rich get in?”

“I hope not.”

“She says it isn’t how good we are, but how good God is.”

“I don’t know…”

“Once I was bad. For something stupid.”

“Oh come now…”

“I didn’t hurt anyone, exactly, but Charlie, over there, he told me how we could sneak into the movie. But we got caught.”

“Oops.”

“A big whoops.”

“What happened?”

“The usher guy took us to the manager. And he told us he was calling the cops.”

“He could do that.”

“I know. I wouldn’t blame him. But I sweated Mom and Dad finding out, big time.”

“I would hope so.”

“So we apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again.”

“And?”

“He made us sweat for a while. But then he gave us free passes, if we promised never to try to sneak in again. We only missed the previews.”

“So, are you telling me, you can’t sneak into heaven? You can only buy a ticket?”

“No. Uhm… Well, what my Mom said, he gave us a pass. And our being good came out of our getting the pass. Not the other way around.”

“Your Mom sounds very wise.”

“Of course, she gave me extra chores…”

Greta laughed. Thomas sat for a minute.

Then he said, “You kind of tricked me, Greta.”

“I did?”

“You were going to tell me about when you were a kid. But you got me talking about getting caught.”

“I did, didn’t I? But your adventures are much more entertaining than mine. I promise.”

“I should go now. You mind if we talk again?”

“I would like that. I sit here pretty much every day.”

“I know. I’ve seen you.”

Thomas stood and thanked Greta for the conversation. He shook her hand, made a little bow and ran off to join his friends.

Greta watched him go. She felt light. Like she had been riding a balloon.

 

 

 

Kiss Hello, Kiss Goodbye

“Welcome to paradise, Sam! Want a beer?”

Samantha stood over Greg who sipped his beer by the campfire. “What are you doing?”

“Camping.” He grinned up at her. The afternoon sun gave her a halo. “How about a marshmallow?”

“You didn’t say anything about camping.”

“Surprise!”

“I don’t like camping.”

“You used to camp with your family all the time.”

“’Used to…’ Do you understand past tense?”

Greg poked the fire.

Samantha caught his attention. “I didn’t pack for camping. I don’t like sleeping in the dirt. I don’t like bugs. I like my privacy. I like a hot shower…”

“I get it. I thought it would allow us to reconnect… to bond.”

“That’s the trouble with long-distance relationships. Even when we communicate, there’s no communication.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I drove all the way up here. I’m tired. I’ll get a room. I thought we were going to a restaurant. ‘Bonding’ at a restaurant sounds like fun.”

“But…”

“You can visit me there.” She pointed to the nearby motel. “You can even cancel this.” Samantha indicated Greg’s camp site.

“But I want to camp.”

“So camp.” They looked at each other. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m barbecuing hamburgers…”

“Okay…”

Samantha took a beer from Greg’s cooler and walked over to the motel across the way. The place looked dingy but would have to do. She entered the motel office and paid for a room.

Then she strode to her pick-up truck and pulled her drag-along luggage off of the hay bale and out of the truck bed. Samantha walked straight to her room and closed the door.

After throwing her drag-along onto the bed, Samantha pulled the curtain back and looked out the window. Greg sat by his tent, waving to her with a big smile on his face.

She straightened the curtain. “Alpine Village, my butt,” she said to herself. “Tents? Anyone heard of buildings? Are all the caves taken?”

She flopped onto the bed and waved the remote toward the TV set. It flickered on to reveal a game show in progress. She wished she could have that much fun. Samantha flipped the channels several times and then clicked it off.

In a little while, she returned to Greg’s campsite.

He smiled and then stood. They embraced.

“I miss you,” Samantha said into Greg’s shoulder.

“Sorry about the mix up. I mean it.”

Samantha looked into his face. “It’ll be like when we were dating. You can be my ‘gentleman caller’.”

“And we can cuddle the night away.”

“But not in the dirt.”

“It’ll work out. When do you want to eat?”

After the burgers, Samantha finished her beer and announced, “That is the best burger ever, Greg. How did you do it?”

“It’s the wonderful surroundings, and of course, the amazing company.”

“Oh pshaw!”

Greg stirred the fire and sparks sailed through the deepening gloom. A night bird called. He moved closer to Samantha.

“All the way here I thought about how great to be together again.”

“Yeah. This is great. Since you did dinner, I’ll make breakfast. My room has a kitchenette. How do you like your eggs?”

“Over easy. The motel store opens early.”

Samantha slapped her leg. “Man! Another thing I hate about camping…”

“I brought bug spray.”

Samantha looked at Greg with mixed emotions. “That stuff acts like a giant bug billboard saying ‘Chow’s on! Come and get it!’”

“Step into my tent, then…”

“…Said the spider…”

“It’s cozy.”

“Alright, but you know I’m not staying.”

“I know.”

Greg held the tent flap aside for Samantha. “Welcome…”

Samantha was surprised at how clean and spacious Greg had it. “…and it has a floor! We don’t have to worry about camels sticking their noses in…”

“I promise, no camels.”

Greg crawled to his pack. “But I did bring this for insurance.” He pulled a pistol out and held it up for Samantha to see.

She blinked. “What’s that? A twenty-two?”

“Smith and Wesson…”

“In case a squirrel attacks us?”

“Or a bear.”

“Put it away, Greg. You’re only going to piss a bear off with that.”

“Meaning?”

“A friend of mine got shot five times with one of those, by his woman.”

“You’re kidding.”

“And then he drove himself to the hospital.”

Greg looked at his weapon and sighted along the barrel with his arm extended. Samantha reached out and guided his aim toward the ground.

“And anyway, you don’t want to shoot that around here. Eighty percent of the other campers have you out gunned.”

“Really?”

“The bear would be using you for cover.”

“Right…” Greg put his pistol back into the pack and zipped it shut. “You want another beer?”

“I’m good.”

Greg opened the tent flap and crouched to exit. He froze, ducked back into the tent and zipped the flap. He whispered, “Bear!”

“Cut it out, Greg…”

“Sam! No, really!”

“Bears are another thing I hate about camping…”

“Shhhhh!” Greg made a chopping gesture.

Samantha got serious. She crawled to his pack and grabbed his .22.

Greg looked at her with panic in his eyes. “What are you doing, Sam? I thought…”

“But I know how to use it. Shhh!”

They sat in the center of the tent. Greg pulled the sleeping bag over their shoulders and held her close. Samantha checked to make sure the pistol was loaded and primed.

Samantha whispered, “They just want food. We’ll be okay.” She put her finger to her pursed lips.

A hulking shadow fell on the tent. They could hear the bear move through the camp, knocking things over and smashing the cooler.

They heard other campers banging on pots. The bear moved off. After a minute, Samantha and Greg looked at each other.

“That was close.”

Greg moved to embrace Samantha. She said, “Wait…”

“What?”

Samantha held up the pistol for Greg to see, and then placed it on the tent floor and pushed it away with her foot. Then she kissed him. It had been a long time coming.

Samantha looked at Greg in the dim light. “You want to go to my room?”

“You think it’s safe?”

“Probably.”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

They giggled and crawled to the tent flap. Greg looked out and then nodded back toward Samantha.

Later, snuggling in bed, they talked about the past, people they knew and how things had changed. Greg wondered if they would ever be together again.

“It’s priorities, Greg. I need my degree. One year more.”

Greg stretched and pulled the covers away.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the tent.”

“No…”

“You need a good night’s sleep and I need to clean up the mess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’d sleep better with you here.” Samantha patted the bed.  Greg kissed her and made to tuck her in. Disappointed, Samantha turned onto her side and returned to sleep.

Greg knocked on her door early.

“Go away!”

“I brought fixin’s!”

“I don’t care. I need to get ready.”

“I’ll fix breakfast while you do your thing.”

Samantha opened the door a crack and slammed the bathroom door behind her.

Greg made do and watched cartoons until Samantha came out.

“Breakfast is served.”

“I was supposed to cook.”

“Don’t sweat it. Ready for our hike?”

“I guess.”

“You look great. We’ll have fun.”

“I guess.”

They set out walking briskly, breath visible in the chill. Dew hung from the pine needles. The sun warmed their faces. Birds fluttered about.

They sang together and talked about everything. Laughter came easily. They took lots of pictures. They felt no urgency but to be together.

Samantha didn’t notice the climb until she saw the valley below. Someone on the trail offered to shoot a picture of them. No bears intruded.

Samantha sat on a log and faced the sun with her eyes shut.

Greg stood by. “We’re almost there.”

“Where?”

“You have to come and see. No rush.”

Samantha sunned herself a moment longer and then sprang up. She ran up the trail into the trees, leaving Greg to catch up.

“Come on, slow poke!”

“Cheater!”

Samantha came around a stone outcropping and stopped short. She turned to Greg with tears in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful!”

The sound of the waterfall echoed down the canyon. Mist drifted through sun beams. A crow chuckled.

Greg took Samantha by the hand. “Come on!”

He led the way down the rocky embankment to the pool under the falls. People came, took pictures and went their way. Greg and Samantha stood in awe.

Samantha slipped off her shoes and waded into the pool. She shivered with delight. “It’s cold! But delicious!”

Greg sat on a stump to unlace his boots. A splash of water landed on his head. He looked to the source of giggling.

“I can’t believe you would do that.”

“It was an accident.”

“You really want to start this? You?”

“I couldn’t help it.”

Greg stepped into the water. Laughing, Samantha tried to put distance between them but slipped on a rock and went down with a scream.

Greg got to her as fast as possible. “These rocks are murder! Are you alright?”

“I’m wet!”

“Yes, I see that. And no one more deserving…” Greg offered Samantha his hand. She stood and lunged at him with a roar, embracing him with fierce laughter.

“Now I’m all wet!” Greg gave Samantha a bear hug and lifted her out of the water.

They couldn’t speak for their laughter. They made their way back to the little beach. Greg put on his boots.

Samantha started to shiver. “I’m freezing!”

“Let’s walk.”

They climbed the trail hand in hand. Samantha turned for one last look at the falls.

She said, “This is our waterfall, Greg. I’ll remember it every time I take a good hot shower.”

Around the bend they were back into sunshine.

“That’s better.”

“Keep moving. You’ll warm up.”

They came to a fork in the trail. Greg indicated the upward path.

Samantha protested. “I’m cold Greg. Shouldn’t we head down?”

“You don’t want to miss this. I promise.”

“Is it warm?”

“You’ll love it.”

After a short climb, the trail entered a tunnel of flowered branches arching overhead. Sunlight filtered through and birds tweeted.

Greg smiled at Samantha as they walked. She took his hand.

“When you’re right, you’re right. Thanks.”

They came out of the tunnel and could see the campground below. Samantha pulled Greg’s hand and they stopped.

“This turned out to be a wonderful surprise, Greg. Thank you for everything.” They kissed.

“Let’s get you into that hot shower. Dress for a nice dinner.”

“Really? Hot damn!”

They ran together back to the camp.

Samantha came out of her room when Greg honked his horn. She walked around his new EV and got in.

“We can take my truck. Will this thing make it?”

“It’s all charged up. Very reliable.”

“I just hope we don’t get caught in a snow storm. I’d hate to freeze to death while fighting global warming.”

“It’s August, Sam. Not gonna happen.”

“That a promise?”

Greg nodded.

They got to the restaurant without incident. It was no five star, but it looked clean and had a wine list.

A real candle burned in the center of the table. Samantha thought of making another ‘global warming’ joke, but skipped it. And she liked a candle light dinner.

Greg felt good. The hike invigorated him. But he detected a shift in mood from Samantha.

“Everything okay?”

“This is great.”

“The shower meet specifications?”

“The shower was heavenly. The perfect capper to our amazing hike. Where did you find this place?”

“Some friends at work told me about it. A ‘must do adventure’.”

They ordered salads and wine. The conversation lagged though.

“When do classes start?”

“End of the month. Before Labor Day.”

“Home stretch…”

Their food arrived. They ate in silence for too long.

Then they both spoke at once. Greg let Samantha go first.

“Sorry I’m in a bit of a mood.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m just sad that we… the weekend is ending so soon…”

“But it’s been so great…”

Samantha raised her napkin to her eyes and held it there. She reached for Greg’s hand and almost tipped a water glass.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize how much I missed you… til we got together.”

“I’ve been going crazy without you, Sam. This was heaven. I’m so glad you made the effort to meet.”

“Me too.” Samantha dabbed her eyes again. A sip of wine turned into a gulp. Then two. She raised her empty glass. “Salute!”

Greg raised his hand to his forehead to make a mock military gesture. They both laughed.

After the food was gone, they held hands. They still didn’t talk but the mood had warmed.

After dinner, Greg pulled up next to Samantha’s truck. They walked to her room in silence.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“If you want. I need to get up early.”

“I want to be with you always.”

They went in and held each other in deep slumber.

Samantha awoke before her alarm. She sat up, sensing something outside. Samantha moved to the window and peered out.

An elk stood in the bed of her truck, eating from the hay bale. It was gigantic.

Samantha rushed to Greg, signaled to him for silence and led him to the window.

“Look at that! That’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen!…”

“If I can just sneak it into my dorm room…”

Greg tried to control himself. He asked, “What’s his name?”

Samantha stifled a groan. “Elke, of course. What would you expect?”

Weak from laughter, they fell back onto the bed. And there they lay, kissing until the sun rose.

Saying good-bye was the toughest.