the dry-cell lantern hanging from a joint of the aluminum tent poles near her head.
She crawled out of her mummy bag. She was wearing a T-shirt, baggy gray sweatpants and wool socks. She put on her down parka. “Right back,” she said. On hands and knees, she made her way toward the front of the tent.
“Where are you going?”
“The bourbon’s in my pack.”
“Don’t go out there,” Rick said. There was a whine in his voice.
“I’d send you, but you’re gimped.” She opened the tent front and crawled away.
Braced up on his elbows, Rick stared at the shuddering flaps. He thought he heard a scream. Maybe it was only the wind.
Julie didn’t come back. The packs were only a few feet from the tent. Even if she had trouble finding the bottle, it shouldn’t take this long.
Suppose she never comes back!
He called out to her, but she didn’t answer.
It got her! Whatever it was out there shrieking like a demon, it got Julie and ripped her apart and next it would come after Rick!
The tent flaps whipped inward and a scream stuck in his throat as Julie crawled in, her hair a tangle and the bottle in her hand.
“Where were you!” he raged through his sobs.
“Hey, calm down. What’s the matter?”
“You didn’t come back! I yelled and ...”
“I was out there anyway so I took a pee. Calm down, for godsake.” She sat cross-legged beside him and combed fingers through his hair.
Slowly, he regained control. He sat up, keeping his splinted leg straight inside his mummy bag, bending his other at the knee and turning so he could face her.
“Better?” she asked.
Rick nodded.
She unscrewed the cap of the bottle, took a sip, and handed it to him. He had tried wine and beer a few times before, but never whiskey. He drank some and winced. It tasted like medicine and scorched his throat, but then it felt warm and nice in his stomach.
“Like it?” Julie asked.
He wrinkled his nose. He took another swallow. “It’s okay.”
He gave the bottle to Julie and she drank. “Nasty out there,” she said.
“I knew this was a bad place to stay.”
“I wasn’t too happy about it myself, but we didn’t have much choice. We would’ve had to go over another pass to get out of here.”
“I wish we had’ve.” Rick accepted the bottle, took another swallow, and handed it back. His cheeks felt a little numb and there was a mild, pleasant fogginess inside his head.
Though the wind still howled and shook the tent, it soon stopped bothering Rick. It was outside and couldn’t get in, couldn’t hurt them. In here, talking with Julie and sharing the bottle, his worries slid away. He even found himself feeling glad that he’d broken his leg; otherwise, he wouldn’t be here with her. Dad would be here instead, and Rick would be off alone in the other tent.
“When I get older,” he said, “I hope I get to marry someone like you.”
She smiled. “The booze must be getting to you.”
“No, I mean it. Honest. You’re really neat. For a mother,” he added, just so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“You’re pretty neat yourself. Even if you don’t clean up your room.” After capping the bottle, she placed it near the head of the tent and said, “We don’t want hangovers in the morning. You think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
“Maybe.”
She took her parka and rolled it up. “Any more problems, just wake me up.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Sleep tight,” she said.
Rick settled down into his bag. He watched Julie reach up to turn off the lantern. A side of her T-shirt rose, showing a wedge of bare skin. He saw the way her nipples made the fabric jut. He felt a warm, heavy stirring in his groin.
The light went out. He closed his eyes. His mind held the picture of Julie reaching up toward the lantern. He knew he should feel guilty, but he didn’t. He felt only languid and peaceful and pleasantly aroused. Soon, he fell asleep.
The next day, the men came.
There
She crawled out of her mummy bag. She was wearing a T-shirt, baggy gray sweatpants and wool socks. She put on her down parka. “Right back,” she said. On hands and knees, she made her way toward the front of the tent.
“Where are you going?”
“The bourbon’s in my pack.”
“Don’t go out there,” Rick said. There was a whine in his voice.
“I’d send you, but you’re gimped.” She opened the tent front and crawled away.
Braced up on his elbows, Rick stared at the shuddering flaps. He thought he heard a scream. Maybe it was only the wind.
Julie didn’t come back. The packs were only a few feet from the tent. Even if she had trouble finding the bottle, it shouldn’t take this long.
Suppose she never comes back!
He called out to her, but she didn’t answer.
It got her! Whatever it was out there shrieking like a demon, it got Julie and ripped her apart and next it would come after Rick!
The tent flaps whipped inward and a scream stuck in his throat as Julie crawled in, her hair a tangle and the bottle in her hand.
“Where were you!” he raged through his sobs.
“Hey, calm down. What’s the matter?”
“You didn’t come back! I yelled and ...”
“I was out there anyway so I took a pee. Calm down, for godsake.” She sat cross-legged beside him and combed fingers through his hair.
Slowly, he regained control. He sat up, keeping his splinted leg straight inside his mummy bag, bending his other at the knee and turning so he could face her.
“Better?” she asked.
Rick nodded.
She unscrewed the cap of the bottle, took a sip, and handed it to him. He had tried wine and beer a few times before, but never whiskey. He drank some and winced. It tasted like medicine and scorched his throat, but then it felt warm and nice in his stomach.
“Like it?” Julie asked.
He wrinkled his nose. He took another swallow. “It’s okay.”
He gave the bottle to Julie and she drank. “Nasty out there,” she said.
“I knew this was a bad place to stay.”
“I wasn’t too happy about it myself, but we didn’t have much choice. We would’ve had to go over another pass to get out of here.”
“I wish we had’ve.” Rick accepted the bottle, took another swallow, and handed it back. His cheeks felt a little numb and there was a mild, pleasant fogginess inside his head.
Though the wind still howled and shook the tent, it soon stopped bothering Rick. It was outside and couldn’t get in, couldn’t hurt them. In here, talking with Julie and sharing the bottle, his worries slid away. He even found himself feeling glad that he’d broken his leg; otherwise, he wouldn’t be here with her. Dad would be here instead, and Rick would be off alone in the other tent.
“When I get older,” he said, “I hope I get to marry someone like you.”
She smiled. “The booze must be getting to you.”
“No, I mean it. Honest. You’re really neat. For a mother,” he added, just so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“You’re pretty neat yourself. Even if you don’t clean up your room.” After capping the bottle, she placed it near the head of the tent and said, “We don’t want hangovers in the morning. You think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
“Maybe.”
She took her parka and rolled it up. “Any more problems, just wake me up.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Sleep tight,” she said.
Rick settled down into his bag. He watched Julie reach up to turn off the lantern. A side of her T-shirt rose, showing a wedge of bare skin. He saw the way her nipples made the fabric jut. He felt a warm, heavy stirring in his groin.
The light went out. He closed his eyes. His mind held the picture of Julie reaching up toward the lantern. He knew he should feel guilty, but he didn’t. He felt only languid and peaceful and pleasantly aroused. Soon, he fell asleep.
The next day, the men came.
There
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