I Can Take Her Heart And Score
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The night was a warm one. I could hear the insects calling out in the bushes outside our tent, and the faint sounds of someone playing music somewhere on the base. The fire crackled softly as my husband snored quietly, his face turned towards me with an arm flung over him.
He smelled like smoke and sand and he looked so beautiful to me that I thought that if I tried very hard it would be possible for me to die right there. It seemed almost worth it—it had been a good life so far—but something inside told me that this was probably not the best time or place for death, even unintentional death, no matter how temporary.
So I decided instead to go ahead and get up and take a walk around our campsite while everyone else slept soundly away.
When I got back from my stroll down the beach, I found him gone. He’d taken off on some errand of his own without telling me. That was not unusual for him. But this was unusual: He usually took one of the boys along, but not tonight. And he wasn’t wearing a watch either; only a few minutes ago he’d been lying there, looking at me with those dark eyes. Now they were just gone.
I sat by the fire and called his name several times before I realized what it meant. This is not a man who leaves home for very long without making certain arrangements beforehand. There are things we do not know about each other—he doesn’t want me to worry when he’s out of town overnight, and he knows that I won’t ask questions about where he goes or why he’s going—but he isn’t reckless in any way and he has never forgotten anything important like this before.
If I didn’t have that feeling deep within that made it clear he was missing, I might wonder if he’d fallen asleep somewhere else on the trip, maybe passed out drunk somewhere at a party without waking up, and then left in the morning when everyone else woke up.
“Where could he be?” I said aloud. “What should I do? Should I call the police?”
It was too late now; the police couldn’t possibly find him until tomorrow or whenever he happened to wake up wherever he’d ended up passing out last night. I had to make myself believe that, even though the thought of him dying somewhere alone with no one to notice terrified me.
My mind began racing through all the possibilities of what could happen after death (as if my subconscious hadn’t already thought of them)—if you were dead, what did it feel like? Where would you end up? Was there a heaven and hell?
Or would you just disappear completely into oblivion? Maybe you became part of the earth itself—the soil—or maybe your spirit just went wandering off and wandered forever. What happens to ghosts? Would you have to stay here, wandering around this empty campground, waiting for someone to find you and come help you cross over?
Did people get stuck as ghosts because they weren’t ready to move on, or because some terrible fate forced them to linger?
I heard footsteps behind me and jumped slightly in surprise. “Hello?” I asked. “Is that you?”
He stepped slowly out of the darkness and pulled out his flashlight. “Oh, hello,” he replied. We both laughed, and I hugged him tightly.
We kissed. When we broke apart, the firelight shone across his handsome features. His eyes met mine again. “How was your walk?”
“I don’t think it helped much.”
“You know you can tell me anything, right? Anything at all. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “But this feels like a stupid thing to admit…”
“Then just keep it to yourself; nobody will ever know. But if you’re worried about me leaving again, or whatever, then let me reassure you: I am not going anywhere without saying goodbye. And I’m not going to pass out from drinking either. I swear.
I’ll never get so drunk that I can’t remember where I live. Not ever. I love you, sweetheart; I’d never forget.” He reached forward and brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. We held each other and watched the fire for a while. The sky was turning pale purple in the distance, the stars beginning their slow ascent. “Let’s go inside,” he said suddenly, and we walked back to the tent together.
The boys were still asleep. They were snoring quietly next to the girls’ sleeping bags. We tiptoed past the mess tent with its huge pot of hot coffee brewing away on a little burner and headed up toward the cabins.
When we got there, he opened the door to our room first and stood there, waiting for me to enter ahead of him. The bed was covered with blankets, and the covers smelled faintly of pine and musk. He closed the door gently behind us, and for once, neither of us needed a light.
“Why do you have to leave now?” I asked.
“I have to meet someone in an hour.” He smiled sadly and shrugged. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to her about.”
My heart sank; my stomach tightened. “About what?” I asked.
“Well, you’re the only one who’s really seen how I am… but I guess I don’t actually need anyone else to see it.” He sighed.
“What does she have to do with anything?” I demanded angrily, but he shook his head.
“You wouldn’t understand anyway,” he replied. He leaned down and kissed my cheek softly, then pulled away and turned around.
“Don’t go,” I begged.
He stopped and looked back at me. “Do you really want me to say goodbye here? Right now? In a minute when I’m walking outside?”
His words made me cry, but I couldn’t speak through the tears. He put his arms around me and pulled me tight against him. I clung to his chest, wrapping my hands around his biceps. I breathed him in deeply, hoping I could somehow hold onto his scent and memorize it—he was like perfume, or like a song you can’t get enough of, except better than all of these things combined.
“Please,” I whispered against his shirt, “please, please don’t go. Please come back with me tonight.” I tried to kiss him and pull him close, but he pushed me away gently. “I wish I could,” he said softly. “Believe me, I wish I could. But I just can’t take the chance.”
“Come on,” I pleaded. “It’s just one more night.”
“I told you before,” he said sadly. “If you knew how dangerous this place is, you’d be frightened too. It’s not safe, Laina. There are monsters here, and I’m afraid they might find me.”
He pulled away from me and left the cabin; I followed him into the darkness. After a moment I found myself standing near a pile of rocks and climbed up on top of them, watching as he disappeared into the shadows.
Then I ran after him, stumbling over tree roots in the moonlight and almost falling down. When I caught up to him, he didn’t even turn around to look at me, he just kept moving straight ahead. My legs felt heavy and sluggish, but I managed to keep up until we were halfway around the lake before he finally stopped.
I had to catch my breath; it seemed like I’d run miles. We stood side by side, our feet still sinking into the soft loamy soil underfoot.
The trees were silent around us except for the chirping crickets. A gentle breeze blew across the grass, ruffling the leaves. The air was cool, and it smelled green. We watched the lights in the cabins flicker through the trees, and listened to the distant roar of the water. The wind shifted directions several times; we shivered in the cold silence.
“Will you come back tomorrow?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Tomorrow’s a big day. Tomorrow they start to move the camp. Today was just practice, making sure the ropes were all secure and the bridges were strong enough to stand up to the weight. Tomorrow’s the real thing.” He paused for a long time and looked off into the distance. Finally, he sighed and said, “Yes. Yes, I’ll come back tomorrow if they let me.”
“How can you stay?”
“I don’t know,” he replied sadly. “But maybe I’ll think of some way. I owe them that much, don’t I? Don’t you ever feel sorry for me?”
“Sure,” I answered softly. “I do. I hate seeing you like this.”
“I don’t mean you should pity me,” he said. “Not at all.”
I reached out and touched his hand. He took mine in his own and held it gently; his fingers were slender and delicate. He looked sad, and a little bit lost. He pulled closer to me, and our arms wrapped tightly around each other.
Our hands moved to touch each other intimately, and then he kissed me softly again. This time our lips met with passion; our tongues parted and danced between one another’s mouths in slow and passionate caresses.
The sound of the insects died away, and there was nothing but our breathing and the beating of our hearts to interrupt our intimate embrace. I pressed myself against him, wanting so badly to be close to him. I wanted to feel the warmth of his body next to mine. I wanted his hands to roam over my skin.
My desire for him was growing quickly, but still, he hesitated. “You don’t have to…” he began.
I kissed him harder and squeezed my arms tighter around him. I needed him. “Don’t worry about me,” I told him softly. “Just make love to me, please.”
He laughed nervously and pushed me away gently, trying to break my grasp on him. “There’s something you need to understand before we do anything else,” he said firmly. “This will never happen again,” he warned me. “Once is plenty.
You’re going back home, remember? And once is all I can take.” He smiled and added, “Besides which, I don’t want any part of their ceremony, and besides which they’d probably cut off my head when they saw me kissing a girl.”
“Well,” I said softly. “They won’t see me, because they’ll already be dead.”
“Oh yeah,” he said sarcastically, pulling away from me again. “That makes it all right then, doesn’t it? That you’ve got an excuse for having sex with me?”
He stepped back from me and looked into my eyes; his expression softened. He shook his head as he whispered, “Laina, please don’t talk like that. It really upsets me. I know you think this is a game. A silly, childish game. But this isn’t just a game. They’ve gone too far, and now they’re going to pay for it. For me, and for everyone.”
It was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight that filtered through the trees. His face looked pale in the shadow of the forest, and the stars sparkled in his eyes as he stared intensely into mine. There was something so sad and vulnerable in his gaze; it made me feel ashamed of how casually I spoke about killing my friends.
Then he turned suddenly toward the lake and started running back towards the edge of the woods, leaving me behind. As he passed me I grabbed for him, but he ducked and ran faster. The trees rustled above us as we chased him.
Then he stopped abruptly, turned to look back at me, and shouted, “Come with me, Laina! Come with me!” He took off again down a narrow trail through the forest, pushing himself hard. His bare feet thundered over the ground and he ran as fast as possible in his excitement.
I followed after him but soon had to stop to catch my breath. We hiked down several more trails and crossed numerous small streams before coming to a deep ravine in the mountain range that separated us from where the camp lay.
The rocks and sand were covered with a thick layer of pine needles. The air was hot and dry; it burned my throat and made me thirsty. I could hear the sounds of the insects and the frogs singing in the water and felt a faint breeze pass by overhead. I looked around; we were alone on the mountainside.
He took off down a steep incline leading to another stream, crossing it without hesitation or even looking. We followed along the stream for a short distance until we arrived at a flat rocky area with a small waterfall that fell down the side of the mountain.
It was cool here, and I immediately felt better. He stood in front of the water as I sat down beside him on the smooth rock. He didn’t speak; he just stared at the flowing water for a moment while I caught my breath. Finally, he said quietly, “Why did you come after me?”
He was staring at me now; his gaze wasn’t threatening or accusing but it seemed almost angry. I wanted desperately to tell him it was nothing personal, that I knew this wasn’t real, but it would only have embarrassed us both.
I sighed and shrugged, “We’re not really married,” I told him.
His eyes widened slightly, and he frowned.
“And you shouldn’t call me Laina,” I tried again. “You should call me Lainey. Or if you like, you can call me Laine.”
He nodded slowly. “All right. Laine. But why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove?”
I thought back to what he had asked earlier and then answered him honestly, “To myself. To find out what happened to me… and maybe to get them to pay for it.”
“What happened to you?”
“How do you mean?”
“Are you hurt? Do they hurt you? Do they hurt your people?”
“Not physically, no.” My voice sounded strange to my ears; it was low and raspy as if I’d been screaming for hours. And I was afraid. Of my husband’s anger, of what might happen next if I failed.
As the water dripped off my fingers and onto the rocks below me I saw something move in the depths of the pool. I gasped and jumped up. I couldn’t see anything, but it felt like something brushed against my leg.
I screamed in fright; my heart pounded in my chest as I pulled away from the water. But there was nothing to be seen. I glanced back to where we first stood together, but he was still sitting on the rock watching me intently.
A cold shiver ran down my spine as I remembered his words when he found me. “They’ve gone too far…”
***
The wind was bitter-cold and blew steadily in my face. The rain fell relentlessly as I ran; each step felt like an eternity, yet time went by quickly. I was tired and miserable; I had no idea where I was going and had never run so hard or so long before. Raindrops stung my cheeks and I could feel drops slipping between my lips as they slipped down my chin.
But I couldn’t stop. Something was calling to me. Something important, something that was more precious than life itself, and I refused to stop.
The rain grew heavier; it poured down from the sky with a furious roar as I struggled along the rocky hillsides. My clothes were soaked through and chilled to the bone. It was getting darker; the clouds rolled across the horizon as the storm intensified.
Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder cracked loudly overhead. I ran blindly into a thicket of trees that blocked our way ahead and stumbled over wet roots as I pushed my way through to the other side.
Then I heard it. From behind me came the sound of rushing water. I turned and saw the narrow path running straight toward me, and the raging torrent of the swollen river. There was no choice left to me; the path led directly down to the water’s edge.
My breath came in gasps as I watched the ground fall away from me. I had no choice. No chance to turn back. If I stopped now, I would surely drown. I started forward and kept moving even though every fiber of my being cried out to stop. Each footfall brought me closer to death’s door; I was certain of it.
And then suddenly the pounding in my head ceased abruptly. As I stepped onto the solid ground the pain and dizziness faded instantly and I could breathe more easily. I looked around me and realized that I was standing on a narrow shelf above the river, with no other choice for miles around except the road.
“I’m sorry,” a soft feminine voice whispered in my ear. And then she was gone.
I stared around me in disbelief and slowly lowered myself gently down into the icy depths of the water. The cold seeped through my skin, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. All that existed was the current pulling me downstream.
The End