The sun radiates its warm embrace, a chorus of birds serenades the air, frogs croak in harmony, and insects hum their melodic tunes. Lingering in the atmosphere is the faint scent of citronella, remnants of the candles that warded off the bugs yesterday night. Without uttering a single word, both our families gather together for breakfast. As I glance around at each person, a realization dawns upon me—it will be a day unlike any other. The anticipation is palpable as we all anxiously await the unfolding of this extraordinary day.
If I strain my gaze, I can glimpse the tranquil lake beyond the trees. Its surface is as calm as a mirror, reflecting a surreal world. Vibrant foliage adorns the trees, their colors more vivid than ever, harmonizing with the azure sky undisturbed by the breeze. The scarce clouds radiate with a kaleidoscope of hues. Silence envelops us all, a profound awe rendering us speechless. The only audible sounds are the melodies of nature's symphony. Intriguingly, those melodies begin to take shape, whispering a tune that captures my attention.
As I listen intently, the music crescendos. I divert my gaze back to the trees and observe their continuing vibrations. Upon closer inspection, intricate patterns emerge within the leaves. It suddenly dawns on me that beauty can be found in every detail, awaiting discovery if one looks closely enough. Motivated by this newfound realization, I rise from my seat and venture toward the edge of the hill. Peering past the mirror-like expanse of the water, a whole new world unfurls beneath me. The riverbed is adorned with smooth, multicolored stones, and towering green plants emerge from their midst, swaying in a synchronized dance as if beckoning me to join. Imagining myself gliding through the water like an alligator, I extend my hand to the plants, waltzing in perfect harmony with the resounding melody echoing in my mind.
A wave of euphoria washes over me, overwhelming in its embrace. Everything at this moment is simply perfect. It feels as if I have entered another realm where imperfections cease to exist, where everything coalesces in flawless harmony. My surroundings collaborate effortlessly, creating a picture-perfect scene for my personal utopia, while the melodies caress my blissful ears. In this instance, I become the center of the universe, surrounded by a symphony of happiness orchestrated by everyone and everything around me.
"What are we going to do today?" I hear Charlie ask back at the campsite.
"We, my friend, are starting things off strong by having the annual Ruck n' Rumble bocce competition. How does that sound?" My father responds and laughs as he does so.
I look back to the campsite to see the two little boys nodding their heads in pure joy. Just the thought of the annual Ruck n' Rumble bocce games makes them happy. I guess it makes me happy too. I can't wait to get into the atmosphere of the game and wash all the penetrating memories away. The game will clear my mind and let me forget the burning fate of reality.
I wander back to our campsite when the smell of bacon and eggs wafts through the air and to my nose. My father, Lizzie, Roman, Charlie, Eric, and Simon are all sitting around the picnic table and I take a seat at the end myself.
"Took you long enough," my brother smirks, getting a laugh from the younger boys.
"I was just taking in the scenery, alright? Is that not allowed or what? I haven't been here for four years and yet I forgot how stunning this place is."
"Okay, okay, miss nature girl, what would you like for breakfast on this sunny day?" My father asks as he takes the eggs off of the stove and onto a cloth on the cooking table.
"Ha ha very funny," I roll my eyes playfully. "I'll have a little bit of bacon and some eggs please," I say, eying the food as my father dishes up my plate.
"Could I have a peach, Simon?" My sister questions eyeing the pack of peaches which are in the middle of the table.
"Knock yourself out kid," he answers. "And if anyone else wants a peach please by all means do so. They are for everyone."
"All my kids please take a peach," my father demands in a soft tone and I silently wince.
I confess, I don't like peaches that much.
When I first glance at them, I groan at the fact that I have to peel the fuzzy exterior. Nectarines are much better in that regard since it is the same taste but less hassle, though they are much tougher to munch.
I pick it up and wash it under a splash of water from my bottle without much interest, noticing how some water pearls form on its surface. Nonetheless I shake the fruit off and I give it a bite.
The biggest difference between a nectarine and a peach, aside from the soft exterior that gives your tongue a gentle massage, is that peaches are very juicy. The moment your teeth sink in, juice sprouts and you have a mess rolling down your mouth. I quicken my pace in order to pull out without getting the sticky sweet liquid dripping down my clothing and face. I go to slurp the juice, just as I part my lips from the flesh.
As I enjoy the chunk in my mouth, I realize that the pulp melts rather easily; the peel takes some time but I come to realize that I don't mind the texture at all. It is very welcoming. It wraps my teeth and I have the sensation that I am doing good. I am eating fiber is its motto, and I might go around thinking and truth is, that it might not be way too off.
I have to be careful when I eat a peach: not only is the juice lousy enough to get all over me, but the seed is not something my teeth would like to hit. It's rough and hard, nothing to gain from it when I think about it.
This peach is sweet and now my perspective changes a bit. I'd like them to last a lifetime. Sadly, I am proven wrong when only the pit is left, a small reminder of my encounter.
Nectarines on the other hand...well...
Nectarines take more time, and it is only because they have exchanged sweet juice instead of a thick pulp. It can be harder to bite, more so than an apple. In the end, it can prove more of a problem to eat than a fuzzy peach. But they taste so good, prickly and with chili.
It is like life, really: some like it sweet and juicy, some like it rough and hard.
The choice is up to you.
"Simon, could I have another one," I ask when I throw the peach pit into the compost bag which hangs on the side of the table tent.
"Be my guest. I'd rather have you guys eat them all then have the peaches sit there and get mushy. Speaking of that, will one of you run over to Jason's campsite and offer some to the Olson's and the Smiths?"
"I'll do it," I say before thinking of what I just signed myself up for. Back at home one of my favourite things to do is help people whenever I had the chance, whether it be bringing in someone's groceries, helping elderly people cross the street, or handing out baked goods to my neighbours. I never expected anything in return, because for me, it felt good to help people. What I had just agreed to was something my younger self would have done without hesitation. Now, however, I don't know why I opened my mouth.
Maybe it is because deep down I want to see Nathan again.
I want things to be better.
And the only thing stopping me from doing that is the fear inside me.
You'll be fine Charlotte. Just ask Nathan if he wants a peach. It's no big deal.
The gravel crunches beneath my feet as I make my way through the forested path toward Nathan's campsite. The Olsons; Jason and Nathan sit around their firepit; Jason reading a magazine of something sports related and Nathan carving a stick with such intensity I almost laugh.
My heart does a little flip because his tongue sticks out of his mouth ever so slightly while the look of concentration floods his face. It feels the same as ever before, as if I time traveled back to four years ago. Nathan would always have his tongue out whenever he was concentrating. I used to tease him about it all those years ago, but yet he never seemed to mind. I suppose some habits are hard to break.
I stare at him for a minute, making sure to duck behind a nearby tree to ensure he wouldn't see me if he looks up.
That would be worse.
It was incredible how a person could change so drastically but also feel so familiar. The little boy I had come to love is protruding from this simple little action. Nathan and I used to have stick carving contests all the time. We would try and carve the sticks to such a sharp point that we would have had calluses sprouting from our palms by the time we were done. It didn't matter at the time though; we were always having fun.
I walk up to the two before someone spots a random teenage girl carelessly ducked behind a tree holding a bowl of peaches. That would be mortifyingly embarrassing.
"Good morning," I speak quietly. "Simon accidentally bought too many peaches and he was wondering if you'd like some? You know, to lessen the load." I laugh quietly but Nathan looks up at me and I swear he frowns a little. This small gesture makes me want to run away and hide, but that I know will make things worse. I flash Nathan a small smile before turning toward Jason.
Jason looks up from his magazine and smiles. "Thanks Charlotte I'll grab two. Nathan, do you want one? These peaches look great, besides you didn't eat anything this morning."
Nathan grunts, lowering his gaze and goes back to carving his stick. "No, I don't want one."
"Come on Natty, you haven't eaten all day. You need to eat something to get you through the day," Jason pleads.
"I'm not in the mood for a peach, dad. I'll grab something later, okay. You packed the licorice right?" Nathan answers and gets up, not glancing once at me or his dad. He passes with nothing but a blank stare and wanders off down the pathway and out of sight. I can hear his footsteps soften as he walks away.
"I am sorry Charlotte, that was extremely uncalled for. I don't know what has gotten into him lately. Probably just normal teenage mood swings Here, I'll take the rest of the peaches. Nathan will come around and eat all of them eventually."
"It's alright," I sigh. "He is probably just uncomfortable. I get it. I haven't really been very consistent in terms of this trip. Not to mention everything lately like my-" I catch myself before I reveal the truth. "Nevermind, what were you saying?"
"You have nothing to be sorry about Charlotte. Believe me. Nathan's just being Nathan; grouchy and full of teenage angst," Jason laughs and takes a bite into one of the peaches. "He'll come around soon enough, don't you worry. I'll make sure of it."
"Thanks Jason, that would be very nice." I thank him and walk back to my campsite.
"The peaches have been gratefully demolished," I say and take a bow when I arrive back at my campsite.
"Perfect," my father answers, "And you are just in time for the famous game of bocce. Roman just left to gather the rest of the Ruck n' Rumble crew to prepare the teams."
In less than ten minutes there are twelve of us ready to play the first round of competitive bocce of Ruck n' Rumble; me, Lizzie, Roman, my father, Simon, Charlie, Eric, Jason, Andrew, George, Luke and even Nathan. My brother claims to have found him milling around the grass field by the bathrooms. Weird, but it doesn't matter since we need him to even out the teams. My father had previously planned to have it so there will be two teams of six each with six balls. Six green and six yellow. Lizzie, Simon, Jason, Luke, Gregoy and I are the green team and Roman, my father, Charlie, Eric, Andrew and Nathan are the yellow team.
"Alright listen up you lot," my father bellows. "For those who do not know how to play I am just going to re-cap the list of extremely extensive rules that must be followed at all times quickly, and then we will begin the tournament." There is a collective whoop from the crowd and when it quiets down my father continues. "There are two teams of six, each with six balls. The main goal is to throw your ball and have it be the closest to this white ball." My father pulls a white ball the size of a ping pong ball out of his pocket. The colour of the ball that is the closest to this white ball will earn their respective team a point. The team who gets fifteen points first wins round one, sounds good?"
We all nod and group off to discuss team strategy.
"We've got good potential here," George starts. "Strong players."
"I agree," Simon adds. "Here's the plan. Charlotte from what I remember you are good at the longer, more tricker ones like Nathan so he'll be your opponent. Don't let him beat you."
I nod knowing if nothing has changed, Simon is right. Nathan has always been my biggest competitor when it came to the bocce tournament. We both loved to win. I liked that about us. We played to win. No exceptions.
Simon continues to match our teammates with people of the rival team. I eye the other team and contemplate their chances of winning. They have my father which puts them at a much greater advantage but then again they also have Eric and Roman; the two weakest players of the bunch. This game will definitely be interesting and I'm excited to see who will come out victorious.
After each team finishes their pep talk we walk to the game field in our teams. This year's chosen arena was the forest slump behind all three of our campsites. Lots of obstacles to dodge and maneuver around.
This will be a very interesting game indeed.
After the end of round five, my team is winning by one; three to two. We won the first two and then lost the following two. Coming off of a round six win, by George, our team gets ready to play round seven. George throws the ball long, aiming for the flat plain of land, but before it can land it bounces off a log and rolls into a steep dip.
I am up to throw first. I work out the math and angle calculations in my head quickly and adjust the trajectory of my arm to better fit the throw. When I let go the ball goes soaring through the air and lands right where I expect it too; right into the hole the white ball landed in.
"Oh my god Charlotte that was an amazing shot!" Luke runs up to me and gives me a high five.
"Thanks Lukey," I smile and ruffle his hair. "Let's win this thing!"
All the throws after me miss the target by varying amounts. Two of the best shots, coming from a comedy standpoint, are when Lizzie hits the log right in front of us and Roman somehow managing to throw his ball backwards. Don't ask me how that happened, I have no idea. I contain a smile, knowing that it looks like round seven would go to us, but there is still one last person to throw; Nathan. He takes his respected place in the throw zone and lines up.
There is no way he will get this shot, I think. It is way too difficult.
It is like the yellow ball flies in slow motion as Nathan's grip on the ball releases. It is such a perfect shot my mouth drops open in disbelief. As the ball nears the ground everyone's eyes widen. The yellow ball falls down the hole and the yellow team erupts into cheers. Michael Smith, this year's appointed referee, rushes over toward the hole and peers inside.
"A point for yellow," Michael announces to the crew.
"What no way!" My team simultaneously cries out. "Seriously?"
"Hey don't argue with the referee," My brother laughs back and I can see Nathan is smirking. It is the first time he has expressed any sort of positive emotion all trip.
So this is what makes you happy? Beating me. Real clever.
The game continues and it is neck and neck throughout the duration of the rounds. My team goes up one and then loses two in a row. Then we win again twice but lose once more. At around noon, halfway through the game, we take a quick lunch break to refuel our tanks. Simon cooks up some hot dogs on his barbeque and Jason provides the chips and drinks. I sit with Lizzie and enjoy my lunch with her. We don't talk much and I don't mind. I am still in the midst of taking everything in. We resume the game right after everyone finishes eating.
I try my best to guarantee that I beat Nathan every round.
I do.
Unfortunately it isn't enough. Our team loses by two points. Fifteen to thirteen.
"I'd like to congratulate the yellow team who are the winners of the 2022 Ruck n' Rumble bocce tournament round one. Round two will take place on the fifteenth, so until then, enjoy yourselves."
"That was one stressful round," Luke says as we pack up the bocce.
"It's alright, it is our practice round. We will kick butt on the fifteenth," I reply and I get a round of nods from my other teammates.
"What are we having for dinner?" My sister asks our father when we all regroup.
"I was planning on making some steak and caesar salad, how does that sound?"
"Yum," Lizzie and I say in unison.
As I wait for dinner to be ready I grab my manuscript from my bag and take a seat at the table. There is some time to do some editing and I am all here for it. I flip through the pages of my book until I reach the part of the story where I am to begin what feels like the thousandth round of editing. It so happened to be the death scene for one of the best characters in the book, as far as my own opinion went. As I read the pages and make some corrections I can't help the tears that began to crawl down my face. It comes to a surprise how these words...the words I had written could leave such an impact even after I know what will happen.
"Charlotte, are you okay?" I hear the small voice of Eric standing in front of me. I wipe my tears from my cheeks and give him a small nod.
"Yeah I am all good. I am just reading a sad part in my book, that's all. I am going to go to the washroom really quickly and then maybe dinner will be ready. Can you save me a seat?"
Eric nods and snatches the deck of cards from the end of the table and begins to shuffle them. Swiftly, I manage to snag my medication and a bottle of water and slip it into my hoodie pocket without anyone noticing. I am not ready to answer all the questions yet that will come if anyone finds out about my condition.
I hurriedly rush to the bathroom, seeking solace within the confines of a stall. With trembling hands, I fumble to open the bottle of medication, its contents serving as both my salvation and my burden. One by one, I swallow the pills, their bitter taste a stark reminder of my inner turmoil. My heart races as I down the final one, taking small sips of water to wash away the lingering bitterness. Relieved yet anxious, I wash my hands and hastily make my way out of the restroom. But fate had other plans in store for me, as I found myself colliding with someone once again.
My pockets, already burdened with the weight of my secret, spill open, scattering the bottles of medication across the grassy floor. "Oh goodness, no! Not again," I exclaim, a rush of embarrassment washing over me. I drop to my knees, scrambling to gather the scattered bottles. "I am so sorry. This literally just happened to me yesterday. I don't know what has gotten into me. I promise I don't normally run around bumping into strangers."
"We really should stop meeting like this," A familiar voice responds, filled with a hint of amusement.
Nathan.
I force a weak smile, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Oh, hi, again," I mumble, my gaze shifting nervously. Suddenly, I remember the pills, and panic seizes me. I scramble to conceal them as discreetly as possible. "Just forget you saw anything," I plead, noticing Nathan's curious gaze fixated on the pill bottle still lying face up on the ground. I swiftly pick it up, dusting off imaginary dirt from my clothes. "Please."
Nathan grunts, his face displaying a mix of skepticism and concern before he turns and walks away, leaving me alone with my jumbled emotions. I exhale, feeling the weight of the world crashing down on me. Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I adjust my glasses and make my way back to the campsite, where my father is busily serving up dinner.
I discreetly stow the medication back in the car, hiding my vulnerability from prying eyes. Joining my father at the table, I force a smile and tried to shake off the lingering unease that had settled within me. It is time to immerse myself in the present, to savor the simple joy of a family meal and momentarily forget the tangled web of my troubled mind.
"Thank you dad, this is delicious," I thank him when I swallow my first bite of steak. I simply adore my father cooking. The steak is tender, juicy, perfectly seasoned and cooked to exactly the right doneness so just a little red is present. Exactly how I like it.
The evening plays out precisely to how I know it will. When it gets dark and the tree's block out the sunlight, Michael starts a fire and we all crowd around the warm fire roasting marshmallows and talking. Eric asks me to read to him so I do. Around ten, the younger kids are sent to bed so only the adults and teenagers are left. We sit in silence for a while until Andrew asks if we want a scary story. The teenagers, myself included, nod eagerly. Nathan and I used to love scary stories even though they sometimes kept us up all night.
Tonight Andrew tells us a story I've already heard so I zone out, focusing on the birds and the sky. I find myself wondering about death. Death is scarier than any horror book, movie or story.
I drift back into the present and start to stare at Nathan. He never once returns my glance even though I internally beg that he looks my way at least once. Instead, he is looking directly into the fire. His face is stone cold and emotionless. His mouth turns down in a frown and his eyebrows knit together. I don't know what changed to make him always upset. I want to give him a hug. Tell him everything is going to be okay. But I can't. I can risk doing anything to make him more upset with me.
I go to bed that night having made no progress with Nathan but knowing today was delightful in other ways. I pray that the days to come are better. At least tomorrow we are spending the day at the beach.
And I've heard the beach can fix people.
I hope so.