They have three days before their flight and two days before the all-terrain vehicles will be back up here to take them to the city, so Jack borrows the director's car and pulls Lacey and Thomas back to the mountains to capture on film the beauty of the various bits of wildlife that roam the ground and claim the air, parking at the top of a hill that swoops down and then rises sharply upward into a long, narrow mountain path.
They make a day of it, bring food and blankets, cameras and games, and climb trees between animal sightings, Jack capturing it all on film ("For Posterity"), delighting in the grinning faces of his lovers as they dirty themselves and one another. It's a good day.
As the sun begins to set, Jack and Thomas packing away the very last of the picnic supplies, Lacey watches the sun sink below distant peaks, Jack's favorite camcorder in hand.
"Huh," she remarks loudly as Thomas shuts the hatch to the trunk, and beckons the boys. She points to a speck on the screen, a dark shape near the top of the path slowly growing larger, and it only takes Jack a few moments to understand what he's seeing. He smiles—then frowns.
"What are they doing in the mountains? There's like, nothing up there."
"Precisely what I was wondering. Do you think they need help?"
"We should probably stick around to find out," Thomas says, and in silence they watch the approach of the figure on ultrazoom. Slowly, the image becomes clearer—it's not one person, but two, ostensibly a woman and a man, and the woman seems almost to be dragging the man through the dust, his limp body propped against her back.
"We should help," Jack says, but Lacey catches his shoulder.
"Give her the dignity of trying."
So they wait, tracking the woman's approach until, close to the bottom of the swoop, she collapses, tumbling the last few yards until her momentum is stopped by the more level ground.
Thomas is off like a shot the minute she falls and Lacey and Jack come quick behind. They skid, kicking up dust, down the steeper parts of the hill, and dash to her side. Thomas helps her to her feet while Jack and Lacey pick the man up between them, each hooking one of his arms around their shoulders.
"Al-ḥamdu lillāh," the woman mumbles, her voice dry and her tongue like cotton.
"Let's get them to the car," Lacey orders, as if it's not something they're already doing.
"Screw the car, these people need a hospital!"
"Yes," shre says drily, "because I'm going to let these people die in our hotel room."
They hurry back to the car, stuffing the two into the cramped back seat before Jack climbs in after, sitting next to the woman, who has the man propped against her other shoulder.
Thomas throws Lacey's backpack on Jack's lap and he rips it open, handing the woman a bottle of water. She gives Jack a look of pure, unadulterated gratitude before unscrewing the cap and taking a few quick gulps.
Gasping, she pulls away and gazes longingly at the rest of the bottle. She slowly caps it and sets it aside, asking, "Americans?" Jack nods. "Better than the alternative." Jack's eyes widen.
"You speak English!"
"Yeah, that's what happens when you grow up on Long Island. Do you have a rag or something?" Jack looks rapidly around, and is about ready to tear his shirt apart when Thomas says,
YOU ARE READING
Love Is What You Make It
RomanceEveryone is born with a name on their wrist. One name. Everyone gets *one,* that is all. Jack is born with three. Growing up in a world that's been shaped by the concept of one person, one soul mate is difficult when whatever forces gove...
