Raindrops
Quicksilvre
-)-)-)-)
Summer munched thoughtfully on the last ravioli in the tin. For something that was cooked in the can on that tiny thing, and eaten with the fork of a Swiss Army knife...it was actually pretty good.
She had made it to her day-one objective–a stream on the map, four or five miles down the road. It had taken a three-hour hike, but fortunately, she had brought her sneakers to work on her last day. She got there just as the sun was getting low in the sky, with enough time to lay out her sleeping sack under a nice, sturdy tree, and get her burner and some food cooked before the sun set.
And what a sunset it was. The Orange County sunsets were real nice, especially from the pier, but this one took the cake. The stream cut through the palms, leaving a perfect view of the horizon. The whole western half of the sky was pure orange, interrupted only by blue- and purple- flecked clouds. It was maybe the most incredible thing she had ever seen.
Half-off sales paled in comparison now.
Summer drank the last bit of sauce out of the can. She hoped she could get more food at the settlement ahead, but just in case, she was getting the last bit out of everything. Anyway, the sauce was good too, no complaints there.
A little was left on her chin. There wasn't anything around to wipe it off on, really; but there were some scattered palm leaves around that did the job.
I'll have to save some in case I have to go to the bathroom, she remembered. Wait. Bathroom. Oh, hell. "I forgot the toilet paper! Shit!" She flung the empty can away in anger. Stupid. How could you forget something so basic? Why didn't those dudes warn me?
She grunted and groaned to herself. "Ew," she finally managed. Okay, it wasn't them–you forgot about it. You'll just deal. Who knows, you might not need it, town's maybe a day away.
She got up and sat down on a boulder, next to her sleeping back and knapsack. She looked at her supplies, laid out on the dirt. "This is my life now, I guess," she said to herself.
She closed her eyes. Not my life. This is my death.
-)-)-)-)
Nightfall came fast. Summer considered building a fire, staying awake a little while longer. She needed to just sit down and think for a little bit. Nature wasn't cooperating, though; ominous looking clouds were rolling in as fast as the sun was going down.
Even with her novice-camping, toilet paper-forgetting, fashion oriented mind, she knew that a sleeping bag wouldn't be enough if it rained. Worse, the rest of her stuff would get wet–including her little cooker. With the little light left, she gathered up the largest, broadest palm leaves she could find and laid them on top of her sack and on her sleeping bag. It was a seriously crappy shelter, but it was the best she could do.
And besides, it was only for one night. How bad could it be?
-)-)-)-)
About two hours after the sun set, the rain rolled in. One moment, everything was dry, and the next, Summer was getting pummeled by buckets of freezing water. The tree she was parked under only stopped some of it, and the leaves we no help–they made things worse, probably; they got soaked quickly, making everything wet and heavy.
Summer trembled in the cold. After peeling all of the crap from her sleeping bag, she tried to snuggle herself as far from the angry weather as she could. The bag itself was mostly waterproof, but water was starting to sneak in through the open side and the seams. She got into the fetal position, curling her legs up as well as she could.
It was just like the night on the freeway.
She zipped up the open side as closed as it would go before it cut off her breathing. It helped a little, but Summer could feel her clothes begin to grow damp. Curling up tighter, she tried to imagine herself somewhere else–anywhere else.
She wanted to be at the mall, shopping for another pair of shoes. She wanted to be home, just vegging out in front of the TV. She wanted to chat with Marissa–with her father, for that matter. She wanted to be back on the pier, overlooking the water at an OC sunset.
She even wanted to be back at school, if it meant getting out of the rain.
Most of all, she wanted Seth. She wanted to be in a real bed, snuggled up against him. Even if that was impossible, she wanted him to come down the road, climb into the sleeping bag with her, and hold her.
And she could feel him right against her, and breathe in his scent all night.
She clenched her eyes shut as tight as she could, but the familiar sting came back. Seth was gone, maybe forever. Those days were over.
She relaxed herself, slightly uncurling herself inside the sleeping bag. Her head found itself outside, having pushed its way through the hole and forcing it to unzip. As Summer drifted off to sleep, the tears on her face melded with the raindrops falling from the sky, as they both trailed off her face and dropped into the dust.
-)-)-)-)
Summer felt something rustle by her cheek–a spider. "Ew!" Taking as good of a swing as she could manage at it, she missed–but managed to scare it away.
She got out of the sleeping bag, very stiffly. The position she finally fell asleep in was very awkward, leaving her arm and legs numb. She slid out–not too far out of it, there were patches of mud all around–to stretch. Damp locks of her dark hair were matted on her forehead.
The rain was gone, at least, and the sun was already warming up the ground. Birds were calling somewhere in the distance. A lovely, idyllic morning in every way...except for the leaves in her hair and the tingle of pinched limbs. "Ew," she repeated, this time more calmly. She tried to run her fingers through her hair, hitting bits of all sorts of stuff. "All right, I'm going to at least wash my hair."
The stream was just off the road, maybe ten feet from it at its closet point. Getting the brush from her pack (and praising herself for at least keeping one thing dry overnight), she took her shoes and socks off and gingerly climbed down to the water.
"Ahhhh...that is cold." As her feet slid under the water, it felt like a thousand little needles were poking away at her. Summer had to make sure nothing was biting her. Still, after she acclimated herself, Summer was glad to at least have some place to wash up. In the ankle-deep water, she squatted down and dipped the top of her head in the stream, running her fingers through her mane to get everything out. The stream's current was soothing, gently pushing her hair around and kissing her scalp without putting her in any danger of being swept away.
After a minute of this, she put her head back up and started brushing. Summer started to go back to her mini-camp, but instead settled on a rock by the stream's edge–after all, she didn't want to have to wash more stuff out by the time she got up there.
Stroke by stroke and tangle by tangle, Summer was able to restore one thing back to the way it was.
Sighing, she curled up on the rock, hugging her knees to her chest. The stream was just as beautiful as the sunset the night before–colorful, natural, unspoiled by anything.
Maybe I am in heaven. She remembered the night before. Maybe it's not so easy. Maybe you can't just die and live the life of angels and...and cream cheese.
She rubbed her legs. Even though they were covered by denim, they still felt pretty grimy. I need a bath.
A wooden bridge carried the road, going over the stream a few steps away. Walking over, she noticed there was just enough room for her under it, if she knelt over a bit. "No soap, of course. Genius." She looked at her arms–more than just a little muddy. "Better than nothing, I guess."
She peeled off her shirt and jeans, put them above her on the bridge, and ducked down under. Once she was in the bridge's shadow and mostly underwater, the cool pinpricks of the water turned into a icy stabs, biting at her from her feet to her shoulders. Shivering, she rubbed herself down, trying to get all of the dirt off. "Oh, God." She wrapped her arms around herself. C'mon, Summer, just a quick rinse will make you feel better. Biting her lip, she rubbed her wet hands onto her face, getting rid of the very last remnants of her makeup.
Even if one looked for them, the tiny bits of foundation and mascara were almost invisible in the water. They swirled around Summer for a second before the current whisked them away.