Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“Alright, let’s get you back,” he says.
Soren finishes packing up the camp behind us while Jason starts carrying me down.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask the question in his ear.
“Always,” Jason grunts. “Quiet down back there. You’re not getting out of trouble any time soon.”
“Okay. Sure. You’re mad at me, but are you, you know, mad at me? The way Soren is? Because Soren’s really angry.”
“Yeah, he is. You should worry less about him being angry, and more about your tendency to do stupid shit that will get you killed one of these days. You got a death wish or something?”
“No. I don’t have a death wish. I just need to…”
“Get away. Yeah. You’ve said that more than once. Most people think about what they’re doing before they do it. You just do things.”
“I think sometimes,” I say. “Yesterday, no. Not a great example, but in general I’m pretty good at planning. I’m not as stupid as you think. I’m not always burning shoes to chase tigers away.”
We’re back inside the trees now. It’s a lot warmer here, and more sheltered. I guess the forest and the river help moderate temperatures. Geography, or whatever.
“I really thought you’d be the angry one,” I pipe up again.
“I am angry, but Soren is something much worse.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s disappointed.”
“Oh, fuck,” I almost laugh. “You’re talking like he’s my father.”
“Not your father,” Jason mutters. “Maybe your daddy.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Listen, for the rest of the day, you’re going to lay low, get some rest, and stay out of his way. Trust me when I tell you this is not something you want to deal with today. Soren doesn’t get angry quick, and he doesn’t calm down quickly either. That cutesy shit with the burrito? You’re going to need to cut that shit out.”
We’re back at camp now. Jason deposits me next to my bags, where I have a few spare pairs of shoes. I’m going to be able to sort my feet out now, but that’s the least of my worries.
“I am sorry, Jason,” I say. “Really. If I do something that dumb again you don’t have to come after me. Just let me get what I deserve.”
“Self-pity is not going to help now,” he says. “You want to show us you’re sorry? Do as you’re told, get some rest, and stay out of the way — but in sight. Got it?”
“Yes! I got it!”
Soren is back not long after we arrive. He comes downhill lugging the baggage. He doesn’t even look at me as he dumps his load. He stashes his stuff and starts ordering it without saying a word. I’m tempted to say something, but he doesn’t say anything, and I remember what Jason said about being quiet.
I can actually behave myself, believe it or not. Especially when I’m feeling this bad. They saved me. They took care of me. This morning, first thing, with the burrito, I thought I might be able to charm my way out of the situation. But I don’t think I can.
It’s obvious that he’s disappointed in me. He’s furious with me. Still. Even after a long night’s sleep. I thought by morning he would be willing to forgive me, to hug me and tell me he’s glad I am okay.
“We’re going to meditate now,” Jason tells me.
Usually I’d refuse, but today I think better of opening my mouth and telling them what I think. I take my place on the dock and sit between them, and I try not to get into any more trouble. Jason’s usually somewhere on the spectrum of pissed the hell off, but Soren is always softer, kinder. Not today, though. Today I sit between two masculine pillars of stoic annoyance, and I feel smaller and increasingly more guilty with every deep breath I take.
When it’s over, they get up and go about the tasks of the morning, putting water to boil, chopping wood for the fire. Nobody says anything to me. It’s like I’ve been shut out. I hate this. I hate this more than any other punishment they’ve given me. It’s not that they’re completely ignoring me, it’s just that there’s no kind attention, no softer looks, no intimacy of any kind. It’s hard to believe they cuddled me all night long. Though I guess it wasn’t really a cuddle. It was an attempt to keep me, and themselves, alive.
Lunch happens. And then the afternoon drags on by, with nothing to do, and nobody talking to me still, at least, not unless they need to.
“Soren?” I eventually approach him. I can’t stand it any longer. I will take any kind of treatment over this lack of interaction. “Are you ever going to talk to me again?”
He turns to me and looks down at me with those hard blue eyes that are usually not hard at all. “You want to do this now?”