Lawrence Looks for Treasure

Part 2 - Chapter 23

23

I woke up the next day sweating. It was the heat that woke me. My sleeping bag felt like an oven. Chris slept on top of his, naked but for boxer shorts. Matty and Ema were nowhere in sight. I unzipped the tent and stepped outside. The sun hit my eyes like it was only inches away. On my feet, the grass felt dry and itchy.

I looked for Matty and Ema. Blocking the sun with my hand, I spotted them across the field. They were sleeping by the fire pit, cuddling like jigsaw pieces that fit together perfectly. I headed over. The sun was so hot that the walk felt laborious. I couldn't imagine how anyone could stay asleep in this heat. An empty bottle of vodka lay next to Matty. Maybe that had something to do with it.

I wondered whether to wake them. Ultimately I did, deciding it was a safety precaution. They didn't share my perspective, and Matty requested, in words too vulgar to reproduce, that I please leave. He was clearly hungover so I forgave him.

I then walked back to the tent where Chris slept, and woke him. He was kinder than Matty, though equally hungover. He moaned and groaned and asked if Matty and Ema were up. I told him they were. I explained that it was hot as sin, and that it would only get hotter, so now was a better time than any to start biking. Again he moaned and groaned, and left to speak to Matty and Ema.

Nobody but me felt like biking. I tried to warn—it would only get hotter! But they wanted to relax. Three against one. What was I to do?

Finally, we compromised: We would bike to the nearest diner, get some food and enjoy the air conditioning. They were too sick to do anything else. It was kind of funny actually. Matty was farting all over the place, and Ema was getting real irritable for it.

It took all morning to find a place to eat. Chris and Matty puttered around the campsite for at least an hour—talking, laughing, changing, et cetera—before we left. Then we biked slowly, taking so many breaks in between that it probably would have been faster to walk. I was irritated, obviously, but I tried to keep it to myself. I was scared to push them too hard because it was so hot they might refuse to bike at all. Once we did find a place to eat, things started looking up. My breakfast—scrambled eggs and hash browns—hit the spot. The ice water, oh the ice water, was better for my constitution than Confession.

After breakfast we were back on the trail, starting the day's ride for real. We followed the same darn railroad as before. And the scenery was beautiful, farm country from ear to ear, vast empty fields of yellow and green. It was like biking through a couple colours. It was still hot as hell so we took breaks often. On one of these breaks, we sat beneath the shade of some bales of hay, stacked in a pyramid about twenty feet high.

'How far have we gotten?' Chris asked.

'Far enough,' I said, showing him the map. 'If we keep pace, I think we'll get to Camp Okanagan in two days.'

'Yahoo!' Ema said, throwing up her hands.

'Yarr,' Chris said. 'Close to me booty.'

Ema walked to her bike and turned on her boombox for the first time since we got lost in the forest. Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles started playing. Emily loved The Beatles. And as soon as the guitar strings started plucking, she started a singing and a dancing.

'Here comes the sun doo-doo doo-doo' She sang.

Chris got up and joined her. 'Here comes the sun, and I say.'

Then Matty and I did too. 'It's all right duh-doo-doo duh-doo-doo.'

We weren't very good dancers. Me and Matty just sort of jumped around and played air guitar.

Next thing we knew, we were ripping up the hay role, and scattering it on the grass.

'You guys thinkin what I'm thinkin?' I asked, breathlessly.

'What're you thinking?' Matty returned.

'Wanna light the hay on fire?'

'I'm in,' Emily said, without skipping a beat.

'Me too,' Chris laughed.

'I dunno man,' Matty said. 'What if it spreads?'

'It won't. There's green grass all around.' I said. 'Are we adventurers or what?'

Matty looked around. The horizon was clear—blue and green in every direction. Not even a cow was watching. I took out the lighter, knelt down, and lit a piece of hay on fire, moving the lighter back and forth to ensure the entire piece caught. Boy did it. I stepped back, and we watched the flame spread. It went across the pile real fast, and then shot up. We all jumped, surprised by its height and heat. Here Comes the Sun continued in the background.

Soon the flame settled. Watching it, I felt filled up. More than filled up. I felt a little overflowing. I could've cried, really, but not sad tears. I was proud of our adventure. For that moment, I wasn't worried about my future. I was happy enough where I was—the journey, the friends, the fire, the music, the farmland. For that moment, it felt right.