I have these entries set to auto-upload in chunks when my phone has clear reception. Because of this, I know that my recorder has caught some extraneous conversations, including during my final post yesterday.
I apologize for any confusion caused. Let me assure you, though, for the first few seconds there, I was just as confused as you were.
And then… I wasn’t. I was something else.
Brooke set up my tent for me; I mentioned the circumstances surrounding that. When she was done, she waved me over, letting me know it was ready. Then she proceeded to go inside.
At first, I thought she was commandeering it solely for her own use. As much as I like Brase, I don’t know that I’d want to join his open-air repose. Fortunately, Brooke had a different arrangement in mind...
Sharing is caring, after all.
Don’t get carried away. This isn’t like the movies where relationships progress from, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” -> ‘I LOVE YOU” ->
Why? What’s the rush? Where are all the important, intermediate steps : the confession of budding feelings, the awkward hand-holding, the romantic first kiss? Instead, it’s a laughably-accelerated escalation towards intimacy. Love and sex in 90 minutes or your ticket price refunded in full!
I suppose that means “film love” (and I use that term very loosely) eschews base running for home run derbies.
As for my success in the batter’s circle last night, I’m still working on my bunt. What can I say? I’m all about the fundamentals.
Still confused? Don’t worry, that makes two of us. But grab me a blindfold, because this is a gift horse I am NOT looking in the mouth.
~~~
I made sure to shave this morning. Anyone expecting me to show up in Providence with a prospector beard down to my knees is going to be sorely disappointed. Trust me, it’s for the best. After a week of facial growth, strangers start eyeing me suspiciously. Two weeks and parents are instinctively clutching their children tighter as I pass. After three weeks, Homeland Security is getting involved and they aren’t believing a damn word I say during the interrogation. “That’s the guiltiest beard I’ve ever seen. Lock it up.” They don’t know what I’ve done, but they know it’s bad.
No, thank you; I’ll stick to clean-shaven.
* * *
I’m taking things as they come. I probably can’t continue “No Expectations” in good conscience anymore, so let’s transition to something like, “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Maybe not that either. The sentiment positions this, whatever it is, as a temporary effect of circumstance and I really hope that isn’t the case. The way the others are acting… I mean, we didn’t hide our sleeping arrangement; Brent didn’t overlook having the tent to himself. He even made a snide Brent-comment, thanking me.
“For what?”
“Saving me from Brooke’s snoring. It’s a good thing you have such poor hearing.”
“Because I’m old?”
Smirk.
For the record, she doesn’t actually snore. At least, she didn’t last night.
So I think it (whatever IT is, reprise) is just an accepted reality to the others. Heck, they surely anticipated something was going on when we met up at the campsite, laughing like they did about hiding Brooke. That ruse wouldn’t have been so funny if Cal or Brase had been the surprise, right?
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
I guess they’re right. Something is happening. I don’t understand it, but I definitely like it. I like it a lot.
~~~
Bad news. Brent got a call from work. They want him to come in TODAY. He told them there’s no way that’s happening, no way it CAN happen. But it does mean he’ll definitely be going back tonight. It seems that no tummy ache, no matter how virulent, is going to excuse him from that inevitability. So, Laurel will be picking him up when we have a better idea of where we’ll finish today.
I’m not positive what this means for the others. I ASSUME they’ll all go back together, but it wasn’t explicitly confirmed during Brent’s vulgarity-laden explanation. He clearly doesn’t want to go back.
He’s trying to coerce Brase into a reconciliatory outing with the whole family. “Come on; if they see how much fun this is, they’ll get off your back about school!” Brent solicited. “Who knows? Maybe dad’ll quit work to hit the trail himself.”
“Why would you think I’d want that?”
“Because then he COULDN’T be mad at you or he’d be a hypocrite.”
Fool-proof. No one ever says or does anything hypocritical. That would be wrong!
Understandably dubious, Brase still didn’t say no. Is he REALLY going to turn down a chance to hike? Unlikely, even if it’s with people who are less-than-pleased with him at present.
Brase really doesn’t like conflict, not the serious variety. I think he does everything in his power to avoid it. He doesn’t even like talking about his parents because of how much the situation upsets him. Brent seems to have forgotten or ignored that fact. The matter of their family hike is currently shelved pending future consideration or, as Brase put it, “Please stop talking about this or I will push you down that hill.”
That, at least, Brent could understand well enough.
As for THIS outing, I guess I’ll find out tonight. Even before Brent got the call from work, Brase was saying this has been too much of a tease; that maybe he should tag along for a longer portion of the trek – if that was ok with me, of course. It was; it is.
“As long as you leave the Drill Sergeant Brase bit behind, please; my legs can’t take it.”
He patted me on the back. “No worries. I need to find a bigger whip anyway.”
~~~
“I don’t know, man. I’ just saying : you REALLY seemed keen on winning that porcupine.”
I’m not sure if, considering the current circumstances, that artifice has been foiled or not, so I deflected.
“I had a good time; you’re not going to hear me turn down a second feast.”
“Nor I,” Cal said excitedly. “Oh my God, we have so many preparations to make. Do you have a blackboard?” He stared hopefully at my pack.
Sadly, I had to let him down. “Couldn’t get it past customs.”
That’s right, folks, it’s beginning to look like we might be revisiting some unfinished business with a particular pop-up attraction.
The inception of this sudden deliberation?
“Just theoretically, now,” Brent said, scratching his cheek. “We COULD be in Dubois by tonight if we hurry.”
Brow furrowed, I asked, “What’s in Dubois?”
Smirk.
Since the decisive phone call, we’d all been pretty glum. This, however, has changed that. An OFFICIAL pronouncement has not yet been made, but that hasn’t stopped Cal. It’s not about funnel cakes and elephant ears this time; now we must become true architects – visionaries and trailblazers. “They should take special orders; why not? If they can deep fry a Twinkie, they can do the same to…” he glanced around the trail for inspiration. With a deft swipe he nabbed a granola bar from Dean’s hand.
“Hey!” the other man complained. “I was literally biting into that.”
Cal ignored him, holding the bar in front of him reverently. “They can fry… anything,” he said wistfully. “Anything at all. We can be... culinary ALCHEMISTS.”
Dean snatched the bar back, scowling at Cal as he bit into it.
“Sure, Cal,” I tried to sound encouraging. “They’ll be no stopping us.” I’m not even sure I understand what he meant, but it was the most excited I’d yet seen him. Who was I to undermine his happiness?
He gave me a big grin and started brainstorming. Dean ate his snack and glowered.
“What do you think?” I asked Brooke when we were alone together again. “Should we go?”
She thought about it a moment, then smiled. “You DID really want that porcupine.”
I nodded, facing forward so she couldn’t see my face suddenly changing shades. “So I did,” I said. “So I did.”
~~~
Brase really is a motivated hiker. Every time I catch up to the group after a journal break, he’s a hundred feet ahead of them again.
When he sees me, Dean pulls out a rock, and with curious precision pelts Brase with it. Each time, the big guy flinches, turns, and snarls pure murder at Dean before laughing heartily.
He never stops; Brase says he hates stopping. He even remains in motion while urinating, allegedly. Though, I haven’t been witness to the act. After each missile-borne notification from Dean, Brase sllooowwss his pace to a crawl. He doesn’t stop; he just gives his best glacier impersonation until we reach him. Then he increases his speed, restarting the process. It’s easy to see how he has thousands of trail miles under his belt. The guy is a machine, a big, lovable android who will, doubtlessly, soon snap and hurl Dean off a mountain, laughing that lovable villainous guffaw all the while.
I think that even Dean would admit he’s probably earned it.
~~~
It’s raining now. First precipitation since I started the hike. It’s a nice relief from the heat and humidity. I can almost hear the vegetation applauding.
From where I’m standing though, the day remains bright and sunny.
Enjoy it while it lasts, indeed.