Chapter 4
Dew covered every leaf, every blade of grass, every surface open to the air, shining and sparkling in the rising sun’s rays as though the forest had been dipped in a bath of diamonds. The birds sung their songs of innocence opening the soundtrack for the day still to unfold. Like the morning air, the ashes in the fire pit had grown cold late in the night.
Gunner, already up, searched through the debris and litter from the old site for anything he could save. In reality everything he touched reminded him of that last camping trip with Greg. A fork reminded him they had made eggs and bacon for breakfast. Of course there was more bacon than there were eggs. Such was the nature of breakfast.
Half covered beneath a tuft of pine needles, he found a rusty pocket knife. It had belonged to his brother. Never used, it was one of those things you brought camping because you thought you were supposed to. There could have come a time when you had to cut something like a piece of rope or a small twig. Likely not, but as the Boy Scouts always believed, it was better to be prepared. A shame, Gunner thought, that it was allowed to rust. He slipped it into one of his pockets as a reminder of the good times he used to share with Greg.
Reese emerged from his tent, shivering vigorously. “I had no idea summer could get this cold anywhere!” It didn’t help that he was wearing another tank top. Kimberly had not been joking about her boyfriend not owning sleeves. He sidled up to the fire pit and peered into the ashes incredulously. “Gunner, couldn’t you start the fire before scavenging? It’s fucking freezing!”
Gunner turned over a muddy sock. It had once been white, and now he couldn’t tell if it had been his or his brother’s. It was no longer of any use except as a home for the pill bugs. “It’s not that cold,” he shouted back.
Reese searched around for some small twigs to use as tinder. “No? My fucking balls are ready to fall off.” Without bothering to clear the old ashes, Reese dropped his tinder into the fire pit, setting out once again to find some larger sticks. “How are we supposed to make breakfast without a fire?”
As if on cue, Zach emerged from his tent shaking a box of Cap’n Crunch enticingly. “The Cap’n doesn’t need fire.”
“Christ,” Reese muttered under his breath. He had wanted something with a bit more substance like some pancakes or eggs. They had brought pans with them for cooking. The scent of hot food wafting through the trees was part of the camping experience. Cereal wasn’t going to cut it for him.
It seemed enough for Zach who had found a bowl and poured himself a heaping serving of sugary, childhood goodness. All he needed was a Saturday morning cartoon to cap off his memories, but Reese would have to serve as his entertainment.
Gunner joined the guys at the fire pit with a bowl of his own. He took the cereal from Zach and poured himself some breakfast as Reese dropped an armload of wood onto his growing pile. “You’re wasting your time,” Gunner warned. “We’ll be ready to head out before you get it started.”
“No we won’t,” Reese defied. Denial was a wonderful thing for someone looking for some warmth. The sun quickly climbed into the sky. It wouldn’t be long before the morning chill burned away. But Reese wanted heat now. He wanted fire. More importantly, he wanted food.
Kimberly emerged from their tent also looking for food. “What’s for breakfast?”
Zach took back the box and handed it to her, along with his crappiest pirate impersonation. “The sea offers up a mighty feast this morning.”
Kimberly looked at the box with its joyful captain, rather doubtful about what it would offer. This had not been a cereal to ever grace her breakfast table. The strange, yellow, crunchy puffs did not offer her much hope for a nutritious meal. When she placed the first spoonful in her mouth, they didn’t offer much in the way of a tasty breakfast either. She winced and almost spit it out.
Zach feigned disgust at her reaction. “Arr,” continuing his pirate-talk, “that hurt my feelings.”
In triumphant defiance of Gunner’s wishes, Reese lit his fire. “Forget that crap,” he told his girlfriend. “I’ll make us some real food.”
As if to insult Zach further, she poured the cereal back into the box. It was then that she noticed someone missing from their group. She looked back towards their tents and noticed Raymond’s was still set up, but the old man remained absent. “Where’s that old man,” she asked. “He can’t still be sleeping.”
“He left early to go find his logging camp,” Gunner told her.
“And he left his crap?” Reese’s fire sprung slowly to life giving him the warmth he long desired. His disappointment would be great when it would come time to extinguish it.
“He’s staying with us. Thought it would be easier getting there if he wasn’t carrying everything.”
“Lucky us,” Reese muttered.
Gunner decided after all he would be kind and let his friend cook whatever he had planned for breakfast, unaware Reese would take advantage of the generosity.
The big guy rounded up every pan he had, while Kimberly brought over their food stores. She began scrambling an entire dozen of eggs, two at a time. Reese dropped an entire pound of bacon into another pan, then set a pot of water to boil so he could make oatmeal which Zach found amusing.
“You turned down my cereal for oatmeal?”
“Oatmeal is a heart healthy source of complex carbohydrates, while your cereal is a source of crap,” snapped the guy frying up the bacon. Zach paid his insult no mind. As long as he kept quiet, he could snatch the bacon as quickly as it came out of the fire. Or so he thought. Kimberly was not so blind to his pilfering.
“Was your mighty feast not so mighty?”
Reese, now aware of the treachery, abandoned his cooking and chased his thief around the camp. Zach, being more agile, thought he could keep away, but the bigger friend was quicker than he looked. The thief was caught and pinned to the ground.
Zach pleaded to be released. Reese gave him only a sadistic grin. He raised his fist slowly away from Zach’s face, then thrust it forward, stopping short of his nose. Instead of connecting the punch, he brought it to the top of his friend’s head to give him a noogie.
“Next time,” Reese warned, “you’re getting a wedgie.”
He returned to Kimberly and his breakfast. The junior high hijinks were but a brief distraction. The long day ahead meant he had to eat before the morning gave way to midday.