Amidst the Misery

Chapter 4: Of Mason Jars and Fireflies

 

"But now, I have trouble with even the simplest of nouns.

Jar, rain, door. Home."

*****

It was the kind of summer night that would stay with Jennie, etched in her memory long after the crickets have stopped their songs, and her teenage heart recovered from its erratic beat.

The amphitheatre was filled with young faces full of wonder, all listening intently as the guide talked about the wildlife and night creatures of Bear Mountain. Tonight’s lecture was a special on birds and their prey. Expressions of awe reflected back at him across the flickering embers of the campfire as he described the array of waterfowl, warblers and shorebirds, and the various species of migrating hawks and raptors. Prolonged oohs and aahs came at the mention of the resident bald eagles that can be seen soaring above the highlands year round.

It’d all be fascinating if Jennie’s attention wasn’t on the hand on her thigh, and the press of warm skin where shorts-bare legs touched. A blanket is laid over their laps, and hot cider by their sides. It was debatable whether the source of heat she felt was from the cider, the blanket, or the hand. Most likely, the three conspired to produce the searing effect.

They were one of the oldest amongst the crowd of revellers but no one would know it by the look on Lisa’s face. The sophomore high schooler seemed just as enthralled as the eight to ten year-olds sitting around them on the log-cut benches.

Lisa had surprised her with a long-weekend camping trip to the State Park. She had wanted to share her typical summer experience with Jennie, one she annually partook with Henry and Rosé. While Jennie would be knitting afghans with her grandmother in California, the longstanding Manoban tradition involved hooking and angling of a different variety.

(After Lisa’s mother had passed away, it was one of the rare family activities that could draw his youngest daughter out of her shell. So, Henry had continued the bonding time with his girls, despite the ache he felt at seeing the empty fourth camping chair. He tried to mend their broken hearts over swimming contests and s’mores and campfire stories. It soothed his pain a marginal amount to see the broad smile on Lisa’s face when she reached the top of a difficult climb, triumphant to have beaten her curmudgeon sister to its peak.)

At his daughter’s pleading, Henry had pushed this year’s date back so that Jennie could join them for the four-day getaway.

Normally Jennie would protest scheduled physical activity, but after days spent paddling around the lake, fishing by the shore, swimming in the river, and enjoying the spectacular views of the Hudson Highlands from the perch of the Tower, following lunches under shaded picnic groves, she was ready to sign-up to be head of Girl Scouts.

Moreover, she loved every moment she got to see the giant of a man bending down to pick up flowers along the trails and later braiding them into unruly swim-drenched hair. Jennie understood where Lisa got her gentleness from when she watched his bulky form bent over in a too small lawn chair as his hands worked meticulously in practised, delicate movements of overs and unders. Even Rosé became pliant under his touch.

A gentleness that she experienced first-hand when it was her turn, gaining primary knowledge of the latent softness under all the Manoban’s tough exteriors.

As it turned out, Henry had to leave a day earlier than expected when he received an emergency call from one of his contract jobs. Apparently the basement had flooded. Rosé took the opportunity to head back to the city with her father, citing not wanting to be the third wheel to the grossness of Jenlisa as an excuse for her departure. Really, they all knew she was eager to return to the brunette who couldn’t make it on the trip.