Tracks of Life

Chapter 8

"I'm so glad to be out of there!" I shouted up at the trees. I spun around happily. Bacon trotted beside me, oinking happily at my response to being back on the move. I think he was also happy to be outside and moving again.

"I still can't believe I was knocked out! I mean, how un-suave!" Stephen grumbled behind me, kicking a stone moodily.

"Hey, that guy was giant. I thought you were very brave," I said cheerily, walking backwards. Stephen frowned at me. I sighed, "You don't remember anything from that?"

"I remember one thing, but, it's insane. I was completely out of it. I probably just dreamed it," he muttered.

"Oh, and what's that?" I asked, waiting to hear exactly what he saw.

"You have to promise you won't laugh," he said, looking uncomfortable.

"Cross my heart and hope to die!"

"You seem rather cheery," he mumbled, noticing how happy I was. I was practically skipping.

"Just happy to be outside and back on our way! Now, no digressing! Tell me what you thought you saw!"

"Okay. I saw a girl. She was young and beautiful. She had golden hair. She was an angel," he said dreamily.

I started laughing, clutching my stomach. Stephen crossed his arms and glared at me. I laughed even harder, tears rolling down my face. "You promised you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I said, standing up and wiping my eyes. I chuckled again. "You saw a beautiful girl with golden hair who you think is an angel? What if she was just one of Mark's sisters?"

"I don't think so," he said doubtfully. "None of them are that pretty. And their hair isn't as long as the angel's was. She was the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

I patted him on the back. "You need to get out more often."

"Yeah, I guess. . ." he said, trailing off into his own thoughts. On the outside, I was calm, chiding him. But on the inside, my heart was thumping. I was sure he could he hear it. I reached my arm out, ready to tell him that I was a girl, but drew it back when a picture of Mark's uncle filled my mind. How well did I really know Stephen. I didn't even know what state he was from! I knew he was afraid of the dark, he once had a little brother, and that he couldn't cook before this. He knew much more about me that I did about him. I had opened up and told him my tragic tale. He even knew where I came from!

Operation Find More About Stephen has commenced!

I waltzed up next to Stephen, whistling and swinging my hands around. "Sooo. . . Stephen. Where are you from?"

"I'm from New York," he said slowly, glancing at me, trying to gauge my reaction.

My mouth dropped open. "New York? Like The New York? No wonder you don't know how to do anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively, stopping and crossing his arms.

"Nothing, just that you don't have farm animals and barns out there. You don't have to make all of your own food. You can just go to a restraunt or buy it pre-made or whatever it is you fancy guys do up there. Why didn't you stay there?"

"My family was at a picture show one night. I wasn't with them because I had a lot of homework and I had to stay top of my class. So, anyway, my parents and my little brother, Patrick, came out from the picture show and they were walking to their car when they were attacked and murdered. I left because I had nothing left to keep me there. I was a passenger on a train when I was mugged by a bunch of brutes, then, I was thrown off the train because I didn't have a ticket. I'm going to California because I hear it's the place of dreams. And that seems really nice to me," he said, looking down at the ground. I went over and laid my hand on his arm in a soothing manner.

"I'm sure they would be very proud of you," I said, hugging him quickly, then backing up. I smiled then, "Ready to go hunting? You've gotten really good at it. And this time, hopefully you won't kill me with your awful cooking skills."

He chuckled softly, "All right." He started walking away to set up a hunting perimeter, when he turned back and said, "I'm glad I met you Danny. You're my best friend and exactly like a little brother to me." Then he turned and ran away. I stared after him. He had had a hard past, losing his family to a murder and then being thrown into alien surroundings and circumstances. My heart ached for him. We were just a couple of orphans who had somehow found thier way together.

I grinned and whispered to nobody, "You're my best friend, too."

*****************

I sat in a tree, completely still, surveying my surroundings. Bacon was tied to a tree back at camp so he wouldn't interfere, or worse, be mistaken for a wild animal and be shot! A rustling nearby caught my attention and I sent the signal to Stephen. His answering bird whistle answered mine. A second later, an arrow flew through a tree and landed in the deer that had just wandered into our area. I cheered and climbed out of the tree, jumping the last few feet. I ran up to the dead deer and studied it. Stephen's arrow had gone right into it's chest. Stephen appeared next to me so I gave him a high five.

"Good job! We're going to be eating well!" I bent over to pick up part of the deer, Stephen grabbed the other side and we headed back to our camp site. "You've become a great shot, Stephen!"

"Thanks," he said, ducking his head in embarrassment. "I had a great teacher, little brother."

"You sure did!"

He laughed, "Don't let that go to your already enormous ego!"

"Nope! It's already there! Anyway, let's hurry so we can skin this and get cooking. I'm starving!" We quickened our pace and reached our site in no time. We placed the deer down and Stephen got to work right away.

Stephen scrunched up his nose in disgust as he cut into the lifeless animal. "I will never be able to get used to this part."

"I hope you don't. The day you do, I'll be afraid," I chuckled as I untied Bacon so he could wander and eat. "Don't worry about it so much. I lived on a farm my whole life and I'm still not used to it. I had to do it often and I hated it."

"How young were you when you skinned your first animal?" he asked, taking the hide off of the animal. I sat next to him to help. We started to cut the deer up and put the insides into piles.

"I don't know. Five, maybe."

"Five?! Holy crap! I could not have done that at five. I would've gotten sick and thrown up everywhere."

"Yeah, well, when I cut the animal open, I fainted. My parents laughed about it so much after that, telling everyone they could. Especially when we had guests and we would have chicken. They guests would pick and chicken and I would have to chase it and kill it. Then they would tell the guest about me fainting and I would be embarrassed," I said, puckering my eyebrows at the memories. I had almost told him when they invited my crush and his family. I was fourteen. After I came in with the headless chicken, he refused to talk to me. He told everyone I was a sadist with a weak constitution.

"Well, that's parents for you. Trying to embarrass you at every possible moment," he responded. He stood up and shook out his hands. "Why don't you make a fire while I prepare to cook this venison!"

"All right," I said, jumping up and running over to the pile of sticks I had created earlier in preperation for this moment. I grabbed my rocks and started scraping them together at the bottom of the fire. The sparks from the rocks fell on the leaves I had stuffed in there and started burning. I blew on the tiny flame until I had a nice one, acceptable for cooking. Stephen pushed me out of the way playfully and started to cook part of the deer. When he was done, he took an experimental nibble, then handed it to me. I took it and took a bite. I moaned in pleasure. "It's fantastic. I think you should cook all of our meals from now on."

"Hmm. I don't think so. I'll miss your cooking."

We stuffed ourselves on venison and fell on the ground. "I feel so fat," Stephen groaned, his hands running up and down his still flat stomach. I laughed, rolling over on my side. Stephen joined in a second later and we laughed ourselves to sleep.