Disclaimer- What?
"Please, God, do not inflict upon me sing alongs," Jaime said softly as his group began to trek out. Rowan snorted, proving that at least two people walking were alive- Jules and Shelby were still sniffling over the temporary absence from their one true loves; Sophie was concentrating on how to force everyone into a happy, smiling mood. Already everyone had fallen into their hiking positions for the day and what seemed to be the rest of the trip: Sophie forging ahead, Shelby and Jules making up the middle and trading verbal thorns, Jaime walking slightly ahead of Rowan, neither talking all that much.
They walked and hiked and so on and so forth until dusk when they stopped in a clearing and pitched their tents, boys in one, girls in the other and Sophie in a lonely tent all by herself. They ended up finishing the evening by sitting around the crackling fire, soaking in the heat and the flying embers, waiting to see if Group would follow them to the middle of the woods. It did.
"So, I'd like everyone to go to their tents and get their treasured item from their bags." Jaime looked at her blankly. "You know? The one we asked you specifically to bring?" The light bulb in his head clicked on, on its last watt. He went and rummaged though his bag. Rowan didn't move from his spot net to the fire. "Are you going to get your item Rowan?"
"Have it on me." The fire crackled louder than Rowan's voice.
"OK then. So Rowan, why didn't you eat dinner? You have to eat, you know, we're hiking, your body burns energy quickly. You have to take care of yourself."
"I wasn't hungry. Drop it."
"You have to talk at some point."
"I have to do nothing." Jaime grabbed the book he was looking for and scrambled back outside. Jules and Shelby immerged not long after. "So, Rowan, why don't you start us off? How about you pass around your item and tell us all what it is and why it's so important to you?" Rowan reached into his wallet and pulled forth a photo. He passed it to Jaime who looked at the teenage girl with the red hair who held a little boy of about 5.
"It's my sister and me, when I was 6 and she was 14." Jaime could see the likeness- the high cheekbones, the piercing blue eyes. All must have not been peachy at home because the girl had a bruise on her wrist and another on her arm and Rowan had a black eye; neither smiled. Neither seemed to look Jaime in the hazel eye, their blue ones looking off into the distance. Jaime flipped the picture over, seeing Gabe smiling at him on the other side. He too had the blue eyes that refused to look at the viewer full in the face. Jaime passed the picture on.
"How old was your mom when she had Sara? You have an 8 year difference between you and her and an 11 year distance between you and Gabe," Sophie attempted to draw Rowan into a conversation, strike up a verbal frenzy.
"Sara's mom was 16 when she had Sara. My mom was 14 when she had me. I guess she was 25 when she had Gabe."
"You and Sara have different moms?" asked Jules, sounding confused.
"No, she just had multiple personalities, one of which had no concept of time and could give birth to me before Sara but magically made Sara 8 years older." Jaime tried not to laugh. Rowan's sarcasm was still intact. As the picture came back in to Rowan's hands, Jules held up a CD.
"This is my signed copy of a Brittany Spears CD. My mom put it into my bag right before I left."
"Awwww," said Shelby, sickenly sweet, "did your mommy write your name on your undie wear too?"
"No! She put in the CD into my bag so I could remember exactly what she wants me to look like. And exactly what I'm not!!! I hate this CD! I hate Brittany! I hate my mom!" Jules stood up and threw the CD into the fire. Everyone flew back as the flame engulfed the CD, the flames growing large. Immediately it began to stink of burned plastic. As Jaime reclaimed his seat, he noticed that Rowan hadn't budged. The muscles on his face contorted though, giving Jules a small smile of approval.
Cautiously Shelby went next, holding up tickets to Romeo and Juliet on Ice, along with the program from the performance. She explained why it was important, but as usual, Jaime wasn't paying attention. His attention when captured by the owl that sat in the tree across the fire. Rowan nudged him. It was his turn. "Um, I have the book "The American Night" by Jim Morrison. It's a book of his writings and stuff."
"You weren't kidding when you said you saw yourself as the Lizard King," remarked Rowan quietly. "No- the Doors are my favorite band. " "What's your favorite poem?" asked Rowan.
"'Probably Do You Have'."
"Do you have/ straight jackets for the guests/yes we do," recited Rowan. "Yeah, I like that one. 'L' America' is good too."
"Acid dreams and Spanish queens, all the way. 'Please Like Me' is awesome."
"Yeah," Rowan agreed, ignoring Sophie and Shelby and Jules who wanted to know what as going on. "I like 'Celebration of the Lizard' too."
"So," cut in Sophie, "with Group over and done with, why don't we all head off to bed? Course if you want to sit and watch the fire, well have fun but we're not going to slack of on tomorrow's hike for your tired limbs. Last one to bed down banks the fire. Remember how Peter showed you?" they mumbled assent and Jaime headed into his tent.
When he remerged Roan was sitting by the fire alone, face in the shadows. "Thought you were heading into sugar plum dreams," said Rowan.
"I only have nightmares."
"You're not alone."
"Not when you have voices in your head." Rowan didn't reply, just sat there and watched the log turn to ash. They sat here for a long time and Jaime let his thoughts free fall, let them touch nothing and everything. That's the way he liked it. Without thinking, he pushed up the sleeves on his gray sweatshirt, the flames that said Alice in Chains scrunching up his arms.
"Those why you're here?" Jaime, startled, turning to Rowan, who motioned to his wrists. Jaime looked at his wrists; the angry sinews slicing up and down his flesh. "No," he said. "Those are from a couple of years ago. My mom still hasn't noticed."
"Oh. Too bad if they were for attention." Jaime mumbled no. "Didn't think so. So what are you here for?"
"I got caught rooting through a medicine cabinet. I was pretty high, and not in my house nor the house of anyone I knew."
"You did this often?"
"Yeah, I'd go to a bunch of house, break in, swallow and steal bottles and sell what I didn't keep."
"Nice idea."
"It was. But the police didn't feel the same. My parents sided with the police."
"Alas."
"Yeah. So why are you here?"
"Well, that can be summed up in a song." Rowan cleared his throat and Jaime waited, anticipating, eager. Rowan began to sing (to the tune of 'Mary had a Little Lamb') "Rowan beat the crapoutaguy Rowan beat the crapoutaguy Rowan beat the crapoutaguy! Sooo now he's here steadofJuV!!!!!"
Jaime started to laugh, the first real laughter in a long time to escape his lips. Rowan smiled and then cautiously joined in. The two sat and laughed and murmured bits of poetry to each other, verses half remembered by both. They compared razor scars, discussed brands. The fire burned lower.
From 'Celebration of the Lizard' by Jim Morrison- . Once I had, a little game I liked to crawl, back into my brain I think you know the game I mean I mean the game called "go insane"
Now you should try, this little game Just close your eyes, forget your name Forget the world, forget the people And we'll erect, a different steeple
This little game I fun to do. Just close your eyes, no way to lose And I'm right there, I'm going too Release control, we're breaking Thru
Burrow back into the brain Way past the realm of pain Back where there's never any rain."
"Please, God, do not inflict upon me sing alongs," Jaime said softly as his group began to trek out. Rowan snorted, proving that at least two people walking were alive- Jules and Shelby were still sniffling over the temporary absence from their one true loves; Sophie was concentrating on how to force everyone into a happy, smiling mood. Already everyone had fallen into their hiking positions for the day and what seemed to be the rest of the trip: Sophie forging ahead, Shelby and Jules making up the middle and trading verbal thorns, Jaime walking slightly ahead of Rowan, neither talking all that much.
They walked and hiked and so on and so forth until dusk when they stopped in a clearing and pitched their tents, boys in one, girls in the other and Sophie in a lonely tent all by herself. They ended up finishing the evening by sitting around the crackling fire, soaking in the heat and the flying embers, waiting to see if Group would follow them to the middle of the woods. It did.
"So, I'd like everyone to go to their tents and get their treasured item from their bags." Jaime looked at her blankly. "You know? The one we asked you specifically to bring?" The light bulb in his head clicked on, on its last watt. He went and rummaged though his bag. Rowan didn't move from his spot net to the fire. "Are you going to get your item Rowan?"
"Have it on me." The fire crackled louder than Rowan's voice.
"OK then. So Rowan, why didn't you eat dinner? You have to eat, you know, we're hiking, your body burns energy quickly. You have to take care of yourself."
"I wasn't hungry. Drop it."
"You have to talk at some point."
"I have to do nothing." Jaime grabbed the book he was looking for and scrambled back outside. Jules and Shelby immerged not long after. "So, Rowan, why don't you start us off? How about you pass around your item and tell us all what it is and why it's so important to you?" Rowan reached into his wallet and pulled forth a photo. He passed it to Jaime who looked at the teenage girl with the red hair who held a little boy of about 5.
"It's my sister and me, when I was 6 and she was 14." Jaime could see the likeness- the high cheekbones, the piercing blue eyes. All must have not been peachy at home because the girl had a bruise on her wrist and another on her arm and Rowan had a black eye; neither smiled. Neither seemed to look Jaime in the hazel eye, their blue ones looking off into the distance. Jaime flipped the picture over, seeing Gabe smiling at him on the other side. He too had the blue eyes that refused to look at the viewer full in the face. Jaime passed the picture on.
"How old was your mom when she had Sara? You have an 8 year difference between you and her and an 11 year distance between you and Gabe," Sophie attempted to draw Rowan into a conversation, strike up a verbal frenzy.
"Sara's mom was 16 when she had Sara. My mom was 14 when she had me. I guess she was 25 when she had Gabe."
"You and Sara have different moms?" asked Jules, sounding confused.
"No, she just had multiple personalities, one of which had no concept of time and could give birth to me before Sara but magically made Sara 8 years older." Jaime tried not to laugh. Rowan's sarcasm was still intact. As the picture came back in to Rowan's hands, Jules held up a CD.
"This is my signed copy of a Brittany Spears CD. My mom put it into my bag right before I left."
"Awwww," said Shelby, sickenly sweet, "did your mommy write your name on your undie wear too?"
"No! She put in the CD into my bag so I could remember exactly what she wants me to look like. And exactly what I'm not!!! I hate this CD! I hate Brittany! I hate my mom!" Jules stood up and threw the CD into the fire. Everyone flew back as the flame engulfed the CD, the flames growing large. Immediately it began to stink of burned plastic. As Jaime reclaimed his seat, he noticed that Rowan hadn't budged. The muscles on his face contorted though, giving Jules a small smile of approval.
Cautiously Shelby went next, holding up tickets to Romeo and Juliet on Ice, along with the program from the performance. She explained why it was important, but as usual, Jaime wasn't paying attention. His attention when captured by the owl that sat in the tree across the fire. Rowan nudged him. It was his turn. "Um, I have the book "The American Night" by Jim Morrison. It's a book of his writings and stuff."
"You weren't kidding when you said you saw yourself as the Lizard King," remarked Rowan quietly. "No- the Doors are my favorite band. " "What's your favorite poem?" asked Rowan.
"'Probably Do You Have'."
"Do you have/ straight jackets for the guests/yes we do," recited Rowan. "Yeah, I like that one. 'L' America' is good too."
"Acid dreams and Spanish queens, all the way. 'Please Like Me' is awesome."
"Yeah," Rowan agreed, ignoring Sophie and Shelby and Jules who wanted to know what as going on. "I like 'Celebration of the Lizard' too."
"So," cut in Sophie, "with Group over and done with, why don't we all head off to bed? Course if you want to sit and watch the fire, well have fun but we're not going to slack of on tomorrow's hike for your tired limbs. Last one to bed down banks the fire. Remember how Peter showed you?" they mumbled assent and Jaime headed into his tent.
When he remerged Roan was sitting by the fire alone, face in the shadows. "Thought you were heading into sugar plum dreams," said Rowan.
"I only have nightmares."
"You're not alone."
"Not when you have voices in your head." Rowan didn't reply, just sat there and watched the log turn to ash. They sat here for a long time and Jaime let his thoughts free fall, let them touch nothing and everything. That's the way he liked it. Without thinking, he pushed up the sleeves on his gray sweatshirt, the flames that said Alice in Chains scrunching up his arms.
"Those why you're here?" Jaime, startled, turning to Rowan, who motioned to his wrists. Jaime looked at his wrists; the angry sinews slicing up and down his flesh. "No," he said. "Those are from a couple of years ago. My mom still hasn't noticed."
"Oh. Too bad if they were for attention." Jaime mumbled no. "Didn't think so. So what are you here for?"
"I got caught rooting through a medicine cabinet. I was pretty high, and not in my house nor the house of anyone I knew."
"You did this often?"
"Yeah, I'd go to a bunch of house, break in, swallow and steal bottles and sell what I didn't keep."
"Nice idea."
"It was. But the police didn't feel the same. My parents sided with the police."
"Alas."
"Yeah. So why are you here?"
"Well, that can be summed up in a song." Rowan cleared his throat and Jaime waited, anticipating, eager. Rowan began to sing (to the tune of 'Mary had a Little Lamb') "Rowan beat the crapoutaguy Rowan beat the crapoutaguy Rowan beat the crapoutaguy! Sooo now he's here steadofJuV!!!!!"
Jaime started to laugh, the first real laughter in a long time to escape his lips. Rowan smiled and then cautiously joined in. The two sat and laughed and murmured bits of poetry to each other, verses half remembered by both. They compared razor scars, discussed brands. The fire burned lower.
From 'Celebration of the Lizard' by Jim Morrison- . Once I had, a little game I liked to crawl, back into my brain I think you know the game I mean I mean the game called "go insane"
Now you should try, this little game Just close your eyes, forget your name Forget the world, forget the people And we'll erect, a different steeple
This little game I fun to do. Just close your eyes, no way to lose And I'm right there, I'm going too Release control, we're breaking Thru
Burrow back into the brain Way past the realm of pain Back where there's never any rain."