Chapter 3: Summertime Rolls

If I’d learned the meaning of ‘stoned’ the previous evening, then the morning’s vocabulary lesson was ‘cottonmouth’. Except for this sensation, though, I felt surprisingly good as I stretched into a seated position. Lara was still locked in a deep slumber, her lower body submerged in her bag. Her awkward sprawl made her seem dead. Before I could check, she shifted to a more natural position. I looked at my watch, astonished to see how late it was. So much for fishing at dawn. Then again, I found that I didn’t care that much.

The tent was getting warm and stuffy since the sun had been working hard to heat up the morning air. I was glad that we’d chosen a shady spot for our shelter or we would have been roasting. I unzipped the flap quietly. Stepping out, I inhaled the smell of pine, field and stream, and it was wonderful. Parched, I filled a cup from our reservoir and ambled over to the river. As my eyes took in the playful water, so did my mouth. I downed the liquid, feeling like I absorbed more with my tongue than I swallowed.

The glimpse of a trout swishing the surface of a little pool made me realize that I was famished. After I set some bacon to slowly sizzle in a skillet, I crawled back inside the tent, nudging Lara a few times.

“Hey, do you want some breakfast?”

She croaked something unintelligible. I laughed knowingly as I scooted outside once more. When I returned, it still took her a minute to sit up. At last she roused, staring about and clearly disoriented.

“Here, drink,” I offered. “I don’t know about you, but I was dying of thirst when I woke up a few hours ago.”

“Thanks,” she said, after exhausting the cup in one long gulp.

“Breakfast?”

Lara gave me a grateful smile. “Sounds good.”

“Should be ready in ten.”

The bacon sent its enticing aroma through our campsite. I cracked some eggs into a bowl and whisked them with some salt and cheese, and soon they were scrambling over the other burner. This was the life, I knew. Some tasty food, good times with some college girls, the wild energy of the outdoors ... All that was missing was Heather.

Lara emerged from the tent, her hair in complete disarray. She gave me a playful scowl when I chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nice hairstyle.”

She nodded contentedly and stood there, looking around. “Do I have time to go pee?”

“If you hurry,” I said, giving the eggs a final stir.

She sat at the table instead. “Too early to hurry.”

“It’s eleven. Hardly early.”

“Whoa, serious? Holy shit.” Then she shrugged. “That was a fun night, though.”

“It was.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I looked at her, wondering if I detected an apologetic tone. “I am.”

She nodded and smiled humbly. “Just checking.”

The food was welcome. We ate quietly, still waking up to the sound of the breeze in the trees and the splashing of the nearby creek.

“Those girls forgot their chairs here,” Lara remarked, glancing at the vacant seats that ringed the gray ashes of the lifeless fire.

“And their marshmallows. I thought they said their site was next door, but there’s no one there.”

“Maybe they left?”

“Nah. They’ll be back for the chairs, I’m sure. I probably heard wrong.”

“So what’s the plan?” Lara asked.

“I’m going to go fish.”

“Cool. I might come out later. I’ll get the dishes this time. Then I’m going to read for a bit.” She rose and took my plate. “After I pee,” she added with a grin.

“Don’t pee all over yourself,” I called.

The fish were lazy when I began my fishing. I tried the ant technique again for some time, but none were interested. Despite the minimal action, it was still relaxing to cast about and enjoy the surroundings.

A few hours after I’d hit the river, I heard a call from the shore. I turned to find Alana standing on the bank. I waved, reeled in my line, and made my way toward her.

“Hey,” she greeted, once I was close enough that she didn’t have to yell.

“How’s it going?”

“Lara said you’d probably be up here.”

“Here I am,” I said, fidgeting with my fly reel. “Getting a bit hot out there, though,” I added, glancing up at the high sun.

“It is hotter today,” she agreed, mopping her brow. “Cooler in the river, I bet. Catch anything?” she asked, almost expectantly.

“Nah. I think I got out on the water too late. They’re all taking a nap now, I guess.”

Alana smiled. “Sorry. My fault, since we crashed your camp last night and kept you up.”

I waved her apology aside. “We had a good time. I just forgot to set an alarm last night.”

She raised a dubious eyebrow, doubting the success of such a strategy. “If you say so. Well, I just wanted to say hi. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“I think I’m done for now. Nothing’s biting. Getting kind of hungry, too.”

“Want a granola bar?” she offered. “I know it’s not smoked trout, but it’s what I have.”

I shrugged. “All right, I’ll take one.”

Alana pulled two bars from her waist pack as I stepped out of the stream and leaned my fly rod against a tree. Once seated on the bank, Alana removed her white sneakers and dipped her bare feet into a cool pool. She splashed some water onto her calves with one hand as she munched on her bar with the other.

“So how old are you?” she asked between bites.

I kept my face straight. “How old do you think I am?”

She looked at me. “Meg said you were seniors. Seventeen?”

Her tone was unconvincing, so I laughed a little. “I don’t look it, huh?”

“No, you could pass for seventeen. But you don’t have a car at your site.”

“My folks needed it this weekend, so they dropped us off.”

“Oh, okay.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “So have you ever smoked pot before last night?”

I hesitated. “No.”

“I was wondering. But damn, we corrupted you then!” Alana exclaimed with a grin.

I laughed. “No, I don’t care. It was going to happen someday soon, I’m sure. Even, my sister has done it before. A few times.”

“Cool. So ... do you want to go do it again?”

“You mean smoke?” I clarified.

Alana nodded expectantly. “I have some.”

“Oh, you mean, like, now?”

Another nod.

“Uh ... sure.”

She scanned the area and then hopped up in the pool at her feet. “Let’s cross the stream. People walk the trail here all the time ... Actually, I know a better spot. Come on!”

I grabbed my fishing pole and followed Alana out into the shallow rapids. She carried her sneakers in one hand, using her other arm for balance.

“Woo, it’s cold!” she cried, as the water ascended past her knees.

Her cutoff jean shorts were quite short, so there was still a ways to go before she’d have to worry about getting wet. I watched as she easily found her footing under the surface. Sometimes the stones I stepped on were uncomfortable through my water shoes, so I marveled at her poise, given that she was barefoot.

“Don’t the rocks hurt your feet?” I asked.

“Not really. It’s a matter of balance and grace,” she answered. “You just have to keep moving! Don’t stop!”

We entered the central current and the options grew deeper. The greedy water line crept up on her thighs, close to the hem of her shorts now. She held her sneakers out to her sides as she balanced, traversing the invisible path to the other side.

Just as she started to make her way out of the thickest current, she erred. A slight “Whoa!” made me look up. She was fighting to hold her balance on the underwater perch she’d chosen, turning to face the flow. A few waves of her arms were not going to be enough. She was being pushed backward as if in slow motion. She blindly placed a foot behind her, hoping for salvation, but only to find an even deeper section of the stream there. She winced as the water started to swallow her, a resigned look crossing her face as she realized that her careful attempt at keeping her clothes dry was swiftly coming to an end.

Laughter danced in her eyes as her glance met mine. I hesitated for a second and then hastily stepped downstream and waist deep into the stream, lunging out to take hold of her elbow. She was already submerged chest deep and sinking into a hole. She managed to slip her free arm around my waist, still clutching her sneakers high in her other hand. She held to me as I tried to steady us in the current. For a few moments, I thought we were both going to lose the battle and end up completely submerged, but then I found a better foothold.

Alana was still laughing as I endeavored to stabilize us. It was awkward, what with the fishing pole and Alana’s floating body pulling on me like dead weight. The current was just strong enough to oppose what leverage I could manage, so we stayed in place for a bit, a temporary truce.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Definitely,” she replied, almost serenely. “But I didn’t think that little hole was that deep!”

“All about balance and grace, huh?”

She looked up at me, mirthfully shaking her head. “I can’t get my legs down in this current. So are you pulling me out, or am I dragging you in?”

“Hopefully I’m pulling you out.”

“Either way is fine with me,” she chimed, her eyes glinting. “I’m already wet. Although it would be nice to keep the shoes dry. They’re my only pair on this trip.”

“Want me to toss them to the bank?” I asked.

She scrunched her face up at me. “Come on. Where’s the fun in that?”

I laughed. “All right. It’s us versus the river. We’re about to find out who’s going to win. Hold on!”

Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I made a push with my legs, leaping through the water toward the far bank. Just as I started to sink again, my shoe discovered a firm rock and I powered through, moving across to shallower footing and out of the brunt of current that raced within the narrow channel. Alana held me tight until her legs found solid ground. After some awkward pushing and pulling, she was finally erect again.

“Close one,” I breathed as we stepped out of the water.

“Dude, close one? For you, maybe!” She looked down at her drenched body in amusement. “I mean, look at me!”

Since she asked, I regarded her clinging clothes, finding it hard to look away.

“I’m wet too. But at least your shoes are dry,” I observed.

“True, we should be grateful for that, except that they’re going to get wet now anyway!” Alana said, as she slipped her sneakers back on despite the water still trickling down her legs. “Come on, let’s go hang out at that big rock.”

We hiked through the forest in silence. I followed behind her as the trail became narrow, having a hard time not watching the sway of her body as she led the way to the boulder. Her smooth legs still glistened from the water that dripped from her wet jean shorts. I tried desperately to stave off any arousal, but it was also too tempting to avoid watching her lovely movements. Mercifully, our destination soon became visible. No one was around.

Alana broke the silence as we approached. “It’s pretty fun jumping off it when you’re high.”

I imagined the act, wondering at the wisdom of climbing up a large boulder in that state. The memory of her swimming attire from the previous day also made me question what I was getting into.

“Isn’t your waist pack soaked?” I asked, suddenly realizing that it had been submerged during her underwater detour. Maybe this is my out, after all.

Alana smiled at me as she unzipped the pouch. “You weren’t in Girl Scouts, I take it?”

I sniggered. “Um, we might’ve made up our ages, but I actually am a guy.”

“I know that,” she murmured. “But anyway, ‘Be Prepared’,” she intoned, producing a Ziploc bag. Within it was a lighter and three rolled joints. She waved it in my face and grinned.

“Nice!” I remarked. “But I never knew that motto was about weed!”

Alana just winked at me. The outside of the bag was damp but the contents within were definitely dry, because a few moments later she brought one of the bones to life with a flare of flame.

“Thanks,” I said, as she passed the joint to me.

We spent a couple of minutes sitting on the same gravelly bank where we’d first met, enjoying the peace of the riverside and inhaling the sweet smoke. Not drunk this time, I was able to feel the effects more directly. Soon that feeling of the seconds slowing down began to encroach on my senses again.

“Come on. Let’s climb and finish things up there,” Alana suggested, smiling contentedly.

I took off my fishing vest and set it by my rod. I watched her scramble up one sloping corner of the giant rock, the joint hanging confidently from her lips. I followed her up, still functional enough to make the climb easily. Then I was on top, pumping my arms into the air in an exaggerated victory strut.

Alana smirked. “Careful there, dude. Maybe find your balance before you go all ‘Rocky III’ on me?”

She’d sat herself cross-legged, so I did the same. The sun had spent the morning heating the granite top, so it felt comfortably warm after the chill of the water. The height gave me a new perspective on the river as it flowed through the verdant trees. It was a beautiful sight. Even though I knew Alana was no stranger to this place, she was taking in the scene as well. She took another pull of the joint before passing it back to me.

“This is a nice view,” I said, sweeping a hand at the vista.

“Definitely. One of my favorite places on earth, this is.”

Without any fanfare, Alana removed her wet shirt in one smooth motion. After spreading it out on the warm rock to dry, she stood and shimmied out of her jean shorts, also setting them out. Then she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her underpants. For a heart-stopping moment I wondered if she was going to dry her panties in a similar fashion. But no, she was only adjusting them. She sat down again, basking in the golden light and wearing the slightest of grins.

“I have to say, this is the life,” she mused, echoing her statement from the previous night.

“Yeah, not too bad,” I agreed, although a part of me deliberated whether this situation was fast becoming inappropriate. Maybe it already was. I wondered how Heather would react to hearing about this. Then again, Alana reminded me more and more of Heather by the minute. It was something in the way she moved, the way she looked at me, the tone of her voice.

I sat there, feeling overdressed but keeping my shirt and water shoes on. Back and forth the joint went a few more times, until it was too small to hold without burning the fingertips. Alana snuffed it out on the rock beside her and carefully placed it back into the plastic bag.

The world passed by leisurely. I mentioned something about the rapids and how the sunlight looked like it came from under the surface rather than reflecting off of it. Somehow, she could see it too.

“That would be crazy if the water would really glow,” she said.

“It does, kind of.”

“No, I mean, like if you came here at night, and it stored up all the sunlight, and then it was still flowing like the sun was out, all lit up.”

“That would be freaky. But cool, too. Glow-in-the-dark water?”

“Yeah ... Hey, come on. Let’s jump in!” Alana stood up smoothly and stepped to the edge.