THE NIGHT OF THE TREK AMONG THE STARS

By Andamogirl

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In the evening, on the beach

Sitting beside the crackling fire, on the blanket spread on the cool sand, Jim placed a small, round piece of marshmallow on the end of a stick a placed it above the flames.

He watched it rapidly caramelizing and asked Artie, sitting beside him, 'indian-style', at hand's reach, "You sure it's good?"

Imitating his best friend, Artemus nodded. "Very good. La 'guimauve' called marshmallow here is a French invention, but the French don't eat it that way. They prefer it aromatized à l'eau de rose. I thought it could be very good like this, toasted… it's an experiment."

Biting into his piece of hot, lightly browned marshmallow, Jim discovered that the piece of candy had melted inside. He licked his sweetened lips. "That's very good! I love your experiment."

Placing a bowl filled with pieces of marshmallows between himself and Jim, Artie said, "My pleasure, Jim. Please, help yourself…" Then he took his golden brown, crispy marshmallow off his stick, and ate his own caramel-covered piece of candy.

Pause.

Jim tossed some sticks and branches onto the fire sending a shower of sparks rising into the air, into the darkness of the night.

Looking up at the starry sky, at the full moon Artemus said, "I'll never forget our trek among the stars… even if I didn't like it. It could have been so great – but wasn't. We spent our time in the sickbay and in the brig… Things we usually do here. I'm glad to be back here, on Earth."

Looking up too at the canopy of bright constellations, Jim replied, "A trek is by definition 'a long arduous journey'… yes, it's a good definition of what happened up there, and like you I didn't like it for the same reasons, and like you, I'm happy to be back home."

New pause.

They listened to the non-silence of the night: the crackling of the campfire, the waves crashing on the sand, the wind gently blowing in the trees bordering the immense beach and the crickets' songs.

Placing six soft, white pieces of 'guimauve' on his stick, Jim asked, "I know that you don't like to talk about what you did during the war but… because it brings back too many bad and painful memories, but I'd like to know something…" and he waited while they toasted. "But if you don't want to tell anything, I'll understand, I'm not forcing you." He saw Artie nod, and added, "You were on the verge of crying, after we accepted Kirk's apologies, when I said that we usually escape when we're locked up somewhere… and images of a nightmare I had popped to my mind… In my nightmare, you were a prisoner in the Andersonville camp…"

Staring at the flickering glow of the yellow-orange-red flames, Artie said, his voice so low that it was barely audible, "Me and my uncontrivable emotions… Tell me your nightmare Jim."

Jim told Artie his nightmare.

Once he was done, Artemus looked right in front of him, at the waves, crashing on the desert beach, lost in his thoughts.

Then, after a moment, he looked at Jim and said, "You have a vivid imagination, Jim. Your nightmare was truly horrible… but, thank goodness, what happened in your dream didn't happen in reality," he said. He looked up again at the full moon lighting up the immense starry night. Then he added, "I was captured during the war… but I didn't go to a prisoner of war camp," he said, his voice a whisper. He added, his face strained with pain, a pain he hadn't forgotten and never will. "I... I was betrayed by a man I considered a friend, I was captured and tortured." He swallowed hard and felt wetness on his cheeks. He scrubbed his sleeve across his eyes, and his voice hoarse, he continued, "I was hurt, badly … but I survived. Dr. Henderson saved my life, again." He paused, placing a piece of marshmallow over the small fire. "But I know… I mean knew people who were sent to that hell hole in Georgia and died there… They were good friends from my theater circles." He dropped his head and mopped his tears with the back of his sleeve once more. "I don't know if they died of hunger, malnutrition, illness, violence or were executed by the camp guards… all I know is they died and where thrown into mass graves… They never came back home."

Pressing Artie's shoulder in sympathy, Jim said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that… But I'm not surprised you survived. You survive everything, it's like your'e immortal…" He trailed off.

Giving the younger man a small half-smile , Artie replied. "I died several times Jim… then, by definition I'm not immortal, but I know what you mean." He took the caramelized marshmallow between his fingers, turning it pensively. "Did you read Charles Dicken's novel, 'A tale of Two Cities?'… set in London and Paris during the French Revolution?" Focused on his sticky piece of candy he didn't see Jim nod. "Dickens opens his novel with that sentence, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…" The last war was that for me. I loved being a Captain, until I lost all my men under the enemy's shells. I loved being a spy, until I was captured and tortured… I came back and I continued to do my job, because General Grant counted on me… But I wanted to quit – every single second. I prayed every day for the war to end… I had lost my passion for life… Sometimes I even considered killing myself. But I couldn't. I had a duty. I was General Grant's personal spy. Many things depended on me and on the information I collected: battles plans, hundred of lives saved or lost…And, one day I met Captain James West and my life changed overnight." He placed his hand on Jim's shoulder an pressed it with affection. "I found in you the brother I never had… and I got a grip on life again. The good old me was back. In a sense, you saved my life while trying to kill me, Jim." He smiled at his best friend, his eyes twinkling and crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Correction, I met Captain West's bullet first. But I'd have preferred a handshake. Less blood and less pain."

Feeling a lot better because Artie was smiling and teasing him again, Jim said, "I shot you, I know, and I told you I was sorry." Then he popped his six crispy dark-brown marshmallows into his mouth – resembling a squirrel keeping its food packed in its cheeks.

Artie couldn't help but burst out laughing. "You look like a squirrel. Squirrel Jim. I'm going to call you that now."

Jim stifled an amused chuckle, "You wouldn't…" as he licked his fingertips clean from ther bits of burnt sugar stuck there.

Lowering his hand to the bowl filled with 'guimauves' Artemus took one and said, "Oh, I would." He looked at the piece of marshmallow and added, "I could cover them with a chocolate coating you know…The children – or people in their second childhood… (he frowned sternly father-like when Jim stuck his tongue out at him)… watch where my eyes rest – would love that. What about chocolate-covered marshmallow teddy-bears… I think it's a great idea!" he licked his lips at that idea and bit into the ball of marshmallow.

Smiling, Jim had the confirmation that Artie was his old-self again: an Artemus Gordon thinking about food was a I-feel-good Artie.

Still smiling, he pulled out a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and said, "Let's read what Kirk, Spock and McCoy left for us."

He unfolded the piece of paper and read aloud, "James, Artemus, this short message is to tell you that we'll never forget you. Accept our apologies again. I doubt we'll ever see each other again, but who knows? Life is full of surprises. In this case, you will be welcome on board... As Mr. S. likes to say, 'live long and prosper'." Signed J, S and L."

Removing his jacket, Artie said, "I intend to do that." Then, he stood up, pulling off his shirt. He kicked off his boots and took off his pants, revealing his short black underwear.

Puzzled, Jim asked, frowning, "What are you doing?"

Stepping out of his undergarment, completely nude, Artie replied, "We leave tomorrow for Phoenix, for the implacable sun, for the desert, for the dust, for the atrocious heat… I want to swim in cool water while I can still do it." He smiled. "Want to join me?"

Standing too, Jim then started to strip himself of his clothes too. "Sure buddy!" When he was naked, like Artie was, he pointed at the ocean. "The last one in the water pays for the next dinner…"

Lifting his eyebrows in surprise, Artie said, "What? Who's making dinner? Me!"… and he suppressed a curse as Jim dashed toward the water.

He ran after him. They reached the water together and they splashed each other as they waded into the Pacific Ocean.

Then a water fight started.

The end.