The next morning, Gordon left. And I left with him. It wasn't as if he had any choice in the matter. I followed him, even though he told me not to. I had never really been good at following orders. In fact, if someone told me not to do something, you can bet your ass that I would do it as soon as I possibly could.
For the first few minutes, I followed him at a distance, carefully. I stepped on the ground with care, and made sure I didn't make any noise when moving branches, and bushes out of my way. But after half an hour of that, I got bored. And I decided I wanted him to find me out. It wasn't like I wanted to tag along with him, just for the scenic route. I had wanted to spend some time with him.
I became sloppy after that. Making as much noise as possible, thumping tree trunks, and scrunching tree branches under my feet, so much so that I imagined I would wake up every dangerous creature in the vicinity.
"That isn't safe," Gordon said, as I looked up from the ground where I had fallen after kind of twisting my ankle, because I wasn't paying attention to my footing. He kneeled down to come down to my level and he looked angry. "You know, if I had known you would be such a pain in my ass, I would have kicked you out of the camp right away. It would teach you a few things to fend for yourself in the wilderness." He sighed.
I gave him my best puppy-dog look. "It was only because you wouldn't let me come with you officially. Of course, the only option I had, was to follow you."
"Of course." He said, sarcastically. I tried to stand up on my foot and grimaced. It wasn't too painful, in fact, I was probably exaggerating a bit, but I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to feel the guilt of causing me hurt. He was an empath - I am sure he would be upset by this.
"Let me see that." He said. He started poking and prodding my foot with his callused fingers, while I spent that time observing him. He was dressed in camouflage pants and a dark green shirt, with dark streaks of camo across his face. His hair was slicked back with something gel-like. He looked like a hero from one of those Hollywood movies that we used to watch before the world started falling apart and the celebrities enclosed themselves in their mansions to watch the reality tv show that is humanity's demise.
I forgot in all of that observation to pretend like his poking hurt me.
"Are you even hurt? It seems like everything you are doing right now is to waste time, and annoy me." Ooh, I have never seen him like this. He was actually outright enraged with me. Good. Now we are even.
"I'm sorry. I think my ankle's fine. Could I please tag along with you? I promise I will be good."
He glared at me. He knew that I knew that he wouldn't abandon anyone in a forest like this by themselves. He knows that I know that, and I am basically taking advantage of his weakness. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures. And all of that jazz.
He sighed again and said, "Fine. But keep up. I'm not going to look back every few seconds to make sure you are fine. And also put some of this on your face - your face is glowing like the moon even in this darkness." He thrusted a tin of black goop towards me. I put some streaks on my face, mimicking him.
And a minute later, we were on our way.
He had a backpack that he had been carrying, which he now passed over to me. It wasn't heavy, but I was glad I was able to lighten his load a bit. The other bigger backpack that was on his back, god knows what it was filled with, but it seemed like it was heavy, and I was grateful to help him in any way I could.
We walked in silence.
There was really nothing to say. Nothing to talk about. The forest we were in, was one of the last few tree-covered areas in the district we were in.
When I was younger, I heard a song by a rock band whose name I don't remember, and one of their songs was about the tree museum and how one day we will have no trees left in the world because of capitalistic greed, and we will have one pathetic tree in one pathetic museum, which will be the highlight of the tour and little children will ask what that is, and sad, bitter parents will talk about the days when trees used to cover the Earth in copious numbers.
This forest and this pandemic reminds me of that song. Every single time, I wonder in fear if this is what we are fated to become. If that future that their song predicted is what our world is slated to become.
It made me feel queasy in my stomach to think about it, so I ignored that thought, pretending like everything is fine.
That is what I did for the past few months as the pandemic grew larger and larger, and life as I knew it, disappeared faster and faster. It was easy to ignore the deaths at first. They were in faraway places, places that I had put on my bucket list to travel someday. Countries in Asia, and Europe. Everyone said, it won't affect North America, of course not, we are safe here.
And then it hit us. It hit us bad. It was even worse in North America than in the rest of the world.
Now, I am walking through a forest to my home unsure of when life will ever go back to normal. I had so many questions for Gordon - being the leader of our camp, he should know a lot more than I do. But I was afraid to know the truth. If he told me that this is a permanent state of life, that we can't go back, that there is nothing to go back to, I would have to get rid of all of that hope that's squeezed into my heart right now. And that could possibly kill me.
Ignorance was much better in this regard.
We walked in silence for hours, or what seemed like hours. My brain was tired with all of the thoughts swirling through it. But my body was excited. It hadn't been out of that stifling camp in the past ten days, and my cells were ecstatic at all of the movement and motion.
There was so much to observe around me. Not only have I never seen a forest in the dark like this - it was still early morning, but also, I had never had an opportunity to walk behind Gordon's beautiful body before.
I'm such a pervert, I thought to myself with glee. I have never felt ashamed about the fact that I am hornier than most. Or at least lustful more than most. There was no reason, in my opinion, to hide it. Isn't it a good thing? A sign of a virile and healthy body and mind. Why wouldn't I announce it to the world?
But I have been betrayed by lovers in the past, because of my sexuality, and my need for intimacy at a higher rate than most. I used to wonder if there was something wrong with me. Maybe I am built differently, I used to think. My hormones might be screwed up or something in my head? No matter what tests I did on myself, they all came back negative. Healthwise, I was A-Okay.
Thankfully, I decided to take it as a sign that I'm the one who's in the right. Everyone else is in the wrong. A difficult decision to make for sure.
"What are you giggling about back there?" Gordon said, turning around to look at me. "You look like a psycho standing there, smiling at your own jokes." Was he serious? Did I really look crazy right now? Well, add it to the list of 'things that are wrong with me'.
"It's just that your bum looks just delectable from where I am standing. I can't help but admire it and feel grateful to the world that created such a perfect ass."
It took him a second, but he caught on quite quickly.
"Ah, I see. You are an ass connoisseur. Good to know." He started walking again, as if the conversation were over, but I had more to say on the subject.
"Yes, I am indeed. What about you? What part of the female anatomy fascinates you?"
No, I was not fishing for a compliment, but for information. I needed to know my partner-in-crime wholly so that we could work better together. I think that's a paramount rule for any vagabond on the run from the law with a hot female partner. Or at least it seems like that from all of the old Hollywood movies I have watched.
He grinned at me. "You are a cheeky little one, aren't you? It's such a contradiction, because you balk at the idea of doing a porn video with me, but then you flirt like a mad woman when we are alone in a forest together." Good point, I thought to myself. It's not the alone in the forest thing - it's that I am all talk. I can talk a good game, but when it comes down to the actual game, I am a loser who hides behind her friends or in her tent. "Well, I am actually kind of an all-rounder. I love everything about a woman. From the top of their pretty little heads, down to their pretty little toes. They are perfection, aren't they? Us guys are lucky that you even deign to talk to us. The comparison isn't even there. You are up here," he indicated high above his head with his hand, "And us men, we are down here, or even lower." He stamped the ground beneath his feet.
I had nothing to say to that. Did he really believe what he was saying, or was he saying what he thinks I want to hear? Either way, it did sound absolutely perfect to me. I would have done anything for him in this moment in time.
Thankfully, the moment passed, and we started walking again.
When we finally reached my neighbourhood, I realized that we hadn't encountered a single human in our sojourn here. Wasn't that quite unusual? I asked Gordon about it.
"Yeah, I have been wondering about that as well. I believe the news said that your neighbourhood was hit quite hard by the virus after you left. A lot of people died in the past few days. They are probably being cremated, as we speak, so that the virus doesn't spread to any others through the corpses. Maybe that's why this neighbourhood seems like such a ghost town."
The news should have bothered me, but it didn't. I was actually desensitized to all of it. When people first started dying because of the virus, it seemed like no big deal. People die of viruses all the time. And then the death toll started rising, and suddenly, people were dying left, right, and centre. Everyone I knew was being affected by the deaths. There weren't enough burial plots to take care of all of the dead bodies. Cremation became the new thing to do. And then they realized even corpses can spread the disease, and then cremation became a necessity.
My parents were cremated as well. They were one of the last ones in our neighbourhood to die. They held on for my sake, I guess. They didn't have to. I knew they would catch it eventually - being smokers, and heavy drinkers.
After their death, I pretty much locked myself in their house, moving just the minimal stuff from my apartment over. My mum had hoarded enough food for a year, and I survived on that. There was no need to go out. Even when the electricity started flickering in and out, going out for days at a time, I used the battery packs, and generator that my mother had smuggled into the basement.
My parent's home was a safe retreat. A haven in the middle of all of the disease and destruction. There was really need for me to leave.
And I wouldn't have left, unless they had forcibly kicked me out.
Paranoia and fear will cause people to do a lot of odd things. I know that. I get that.
But there was no need for folks to come beating down my door and steal all of my food. It was totally uncalled for. After I lost my stash of food, it was inevitable that I would have to leave my house and find a settlement to camp with.
I was one of the lucky ones - not only am I healthy and virus-free, but I also got a chance to reside in a pretty safe, and sterile camp. No need to sell my body on the street. And no need to starve to death either.
My parent's house had been gutted. I guess, the real reason I wanted to come with Gordon was to take one last look at my parent's house.
You never think that the last time you do something is actually going to be the last time. When I was kicked out of the house, and driven into the streets by the hoarders and the looters, I assumed I would be back soon enough.
I walked into the house, scrunching glass and other stuff underneath my boots. There was no door any more. It had been taken off its hinges. And put to the side. It was rather sweet how it lay there to the side of the door - neatly, as if someone had torn it off the hinges, and then decided to place it kindly off to the side.
I wondered how many people had gone up and down and around the house that I had lived in for so long. It should have felt like a violation, but I felt nothing. Or I felt rage, but I decided to bury it deep into my psyche. This was not the time to deal with it.
The hallway, and the living room was covered with garbage. Rats went squeaking past me, as if they weren't afraid of humans anymore. I would have screamed, but I had seen enough of them in the forest as well. I was kind of immune to their charms now.
I wanted to rush upstairs, but Gordon held me back.
"Wait. I don't want you rushing upstairs, without me giving it a check. There might still be looters here." He was trying to protect me. How sweet of him.
If only he could have been there to protect me earlier, when the looters had come and pulled me out of my house. When they had torn up my bedding, and thrown me on the ground.
Again, I ignored those pesky feelings that kept cropping up. No time for this, I told myself. The time will come when you can grieve. For now, just go with the flow.
Gordon came back downstairs, and gave me a nod. I rushed upstairs, brushing past him, unable to keep tears from popping into my eyes. I was headed towards my parent's bedroom. The real reason I came here was for that picture on their dresser drawer. They shouldn't have torn it up. It was too unimportant to strangers.
I wished and hoped that it would be alright. That it would still be standing there on the dresser, but it wasn't.
Where could it be? I couldn't imagine anyone would have taken the picture away. Maybe the frame, but the picture. It had to be here somewhere.
I rummaged underneath the dresser and ouch, some glass pricked my fingers. I put my fingers into my mouth and sucked on the salty blood, carefully now, poking around the dresser, looking for that picture.
It was the only one left now. Everything else - all the other pictures had been in my computer drive, which was probably stolen or destroyed. This picture - it was the only one that I had of my parents.
A few nights ago, I realized that I didn't remember what my parents looked like anymore. In my haste to keep myself safe and healthy, and in my quest to forget all the terrible memories, I had been keeping myself from thinking of them. I ignored thoughts of them for a few months now.
But when I tried finally to remember the way their eyebrows arched across their face, or the way their eyes looked in their sockets, I couldn't. There was nothing that came to mind, except blurred up images of some strangers. Were these really my parents? How could I tell?
That's when I remembered the picture. If only I could keep that copy next to my heart, until I died. Maybe then I could keep their memory alive in me.
I had to get that picture. It was paramount. I rummaged around under the bed.
Why would anyone steal a useless picture? They wouldn't have. It was a waste of space. I had to find that picture.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Gordon finally said. I hadn't told him anything. I hadn't explained to him the reason I had rushed over to my parent's room, the reason why I had forced him (basically) to bring me with him. It wasn't for the deodorants. Or the herbal soap. Or the fresh change of clothes. Although all of that would be nice as well.
"My parent's picture. It was in a frame on the dresser. It had been there for years now. But now it's gone. It's gone and I don't know what to do. What if I can never remember what they look like and..." I was beginning to hyperventilate now.
Thankfully Gordon wasn't the kind of run away from a few tears. He stepped towards me, and pulled me into a hug. A bear hug. A warm hug that felt like a cozy womb. I melted into him. My tears stopped. Ah, this is nice. I could stay here forever.
My eyes catch a glimpse of something familiar. I see a picture underneath the toilet bowl. It looks like a printed photograph - a rarity in itself nowadays. I push myself away from Gordon.
I rush to the bathroom. It's here. It's... I look to see a dead cat inside the toilet bowl. I retch. It was the stray cat that used to visit me sometimes for a treat or some food. Why had they killed her? I held back the urge to vomit, and picked up the photograph. I walked away from the bathroom - the one my mother had decorated with such care, and tried not to think of that glassy dead eye. The cat was looking at me with reproach. I hadn't even thought about taking her with me. What kind of a human am I?
A few minutes later, Gordon had found us some orange juice. Even though all the stores of food had been ransacked, somehow they had missed one of the pantry shelves. It was hidden in the corner of the laundry room, so I guess they assumed it had nothing much interesting in it.
Gordon had sat me down on the only unbroken chair in the kitchen, and fed me some sweet delicious orange juice. Oh, that's the stuff, I thought to myself. Who knew the last time I had orange juice that that would be one of the last times I had orange juice? Who knew that I would clamor for a sip of the stuff, and treat it more precious than gold or diamonds?
Life has a way of surprising you, but never more so than when there's a world crisis going on.
I wanted to laugh at myself and at the situation. But I couldn't muster up the strength.
"Do you feel better?" I was sitting there, staring at the picture in my lap. Gordon must be getting worried about me. I looked up to see him staring at me with concern in his face. He was rather sweet when it came down to it. Even though I bribed him with something as crude as porn videos, he was still doing such a good job of taking care of me.
I pushed the orange juice back towards him and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. You have some too. You probably haven't had any in ages, as well."
He smiled at me, and took a sip of the orange juice.
"Are these your parents?"
"Yup. It's the reason I wanted to come with you."
"You wanted to remember their faces?"
"Yeah, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to remember them anymore, if more time passed by. I needed a physical memento of them."
"I know what you mean." He said, but didn't elaborate. I let it go. If he wanted to give me details, he would. I am not going to push him on it.
"I'm ready to go now, if you are."
"No, you still need to grab the stuff on your list. Even if the place is a shambles, I'm sure you can find some odds and ends. Especially a change of clothes, and stuff. That's not something people would steal. Considering your quirky style." He said that last bit quietly, but I still glared at him.
It felt good to banter like this. It felt like the world wasn't falling apart. Maybe this was all just a dream and I would wake up soon, realizing that my parents are still alive, and Gordon was just a memory from the past. Not the other way around.
"Maybe I should click my heels." I said to myself. Maybe that would take me back to the time that really mattered to me. If I had only savoured it a bit more. If I knew then what I know now...
I stepped into my bedroom and somehow, I was able to find everything on my list.
Deodorant, Herbal soap, Undies, socks, some clothes, a pair of sneakers that were comfier than the boots, paper, pen, and some shampoo.
The pillows were all torn up, so that was a no go, and I couldn't see the essential oil bottles anywhere.
This was good enough, I thought. No actually this is better than good enough. I have the picture I wanted.
Gordon had bought an extra backpack with me that was empty, so I stuffed it with everything I had managed to salvage.
It fit in perfectly. A 20-litre backpack was holding my life right now. I wouldn't be able to come back here ever again. Somehow I knew that intuitively. This was my last time here.
Should I take some pictures to keep the memories with me? Or should I just let it go?
I didn't have a chance to decide, as we heard some voices downstairs.
Gordon looked at me with a look on his face.
"I'll go take a look. You stay here and be quiet." He whispered to me. I held onto his arm. Don't go, I wanted to say. What if something happened to him because of me? I would die. I can't have any more people close to me dying or disappearing. It's too much to handle.
He pulled his arm away from me and mouthed, "Don't worry."
There were maybe 3-4 people downstairs. They sounded drunk. Maybe they were here to see what else they could loot from the house. I was getting angry at them - traipsing around in my parent's home, probably trailing mud all over it, bringing their disgusting germs into it.
I was about ready to go downstairs and kill them.
"Calm down. Get that murderous look off your face. They will probably leave in a few minutes. There's nothing for you..." Gordon started saying, but he stopped. The men were coming upstairs. And they were being pretty loud about it.
"I think they must be up here." One of them said. "The light ain't on, but they gotta be up there."
"Yeah, maybe she came back for a treasured heirloom or some gold that they had hidden away in safe behind a picture."
"Stupid! We looked behind all pictures. Remember? We knew that she was the hoity-toity kind, so we checked that."
"Yeah she was always so snobbish, that will teach her to snub me at school. I'm going to be the first one to take her. You guys promised me that!"
"Sure, sure. You take her first. As long as all of us get a turn with her, it doesn't matter who goes first. You can loosen her up for us." The man giggled, and then the other two joined him.
I was stunned. Did these men actually know me?? How could they possibly? Unless, it was from middle school, because after that, I went to school only intermittently.
"It sounds like Gimpy from middle school to me. Do you remember him?"
Gimpy! That asshole. He tried constantly to look up my skirt in school. We were so young back then and I used to smash him in the head every time he did that. So he was still holding a grudge over that?! That seems insane. It was ages ago. I cannot believe it.
Gordon had already pulled out a couple of weapons - a gun and some knives, and was placing them into various pockets on his body.
This is all my fault, I lamented in my head. If Gordon gets hurt because of something foolish like this, then I am never going to be able to forgive myself. He's only here, because I forced him to come back here with me. Actually, if I hadn't shown up with him, would he still be in danger like this?
The men stumbled into the room we were in, and Gordon and I stared back at them. Hopefully, we looked like a formidable force, because I certainly didn't feel like one.
"Hey Gimpy, long time no see." Gordon said, with a lopsided grin on his face.
Gimpy was exactly as I had remembered him. He might have grown a few inches, and his face had a few more straggly hairs on it, but besides that, he looked like he did in middle school. Lanky, with bad teeth and a demonic tendency to put women into certain stereotypical boxes.
He looked surprised to see Gordon.
"You!! What are you doing here with her? She's mine, I told you that in middle school, and you never listened then either."
"She doesn't want you. She didn't want you then, and she doesn't want you now. So why don't you just fuck off?"
They both glared at each other and I wondered what they were talking about. Gimpy and Gordon seemed to have a closer relationship than I remembered. Did they fight over me in middle school? How could it be? And how could I be so clueless about something like that? I had always wanted two men to fight over me, and it happened in middle school - when I had braces, and spectacles, when I was gangly and badly dressed.
It can't be. Is bad teeth, bad eyes, and bad fashion sense really that appealing to boys? If I had known that, I would have played it up a bit more.
"I am not sure what you two are talking about, but..."
"Men are talking here, you keep quiet, girl." One of Gimpy's friends said crudely.
Where did Gimpy find these idiots? I wondered to myself. They are even worse than I imagined.
One of the reasons I was single forever was because of the lack of sensible, reasonable men in town. Even if they seemed promising on text, they all ended up pretty much like Gimpy and his friends - chauvinistic asses who thought that a woman existed only to please a man, and to procreate.
I wanted to punch some of them in the faces. I still did.
Gordon thankfully was better than them. That's probably why we got along so well.
"Listen here, pretty boy, there's three of us and only one of you, so let's cut the bullshit. Why don't you run away, and we will take care of this little lady ourselves."
Where do they even get their dialogue? They have probably been watching way too many old cowboy shows. No one speaks like that anymore, or do they?
Then they all spit to the side, as they were chewing tobacco, like real men do.
They definitely got this all from a Hollywood show. No way they could be this cliché.
"I'm not going anywhere. I guess we are at an impasse."
The men stared at Gordon. Impasse? Gordon and I could see that the vocabulary had gone way beyond anything they were capable of.
"What pass?" Gimpy finally asked.
"I mean, I'm not going anywhere, so we are at a standstill. You are the ones who are going to have to back up, cos I have no intention of doing so." Gordon slowly was tempering his accent and his vocabulary to fit them. It was interesting to see how quickly he reverted back to his roots.
"Let's do a duel then? Whoever wins the duel has the chance to take the lady and win this battle." Gordon said, with a glitter in his eyes. He knew that that would appeal to their Hollywood-obsessed senses. They would want to enact a duel. They have probably already thought about it before, but never had the chance.
The men's eyes lit up. The three of them looked at Gordon like he was their salvation. Boredom begone, I'm sure they were thinking.
"Yes, great idea. What weapon would you like to use? I will give you the chance to pick." Gimpy said, quite chivalrously.
"Hmm, that's kind of unfair as I have been in the military. I would like to give you guys the advantage. How about you tell me your choice first?"
The three of them looked at each other again, and as if a message passed in between them, they nodded to each other. Gimpy put a serious face on and said, "I would like to play the video game, Contra, against you."
I could see Gordon's eyes going up to his forehead. When he had said to pick a weapon, he didn't mean joystick. But he was a good sport about it.
"Contra, huh? Isn't that a game from the early 21st century? That's at least 50 years old." Gordon said, smiling at them. "If that's what you wish to play, then who am I to argue? Do you have a spot where we can have the duel?"
They looked orgasmically at Gordon. He was indeed their saviour. There was no other way to say it.
"We have a spot, but it's kind of out of the way. If we had known, we would have bought our console with us. It's wireless and we tapped illegally into the government connection." They looked sad about it.
"Well, how about this? I can wait while you go grab the console. I think it's safest for us to stay here and play, rather than for me to go out there somewhere, especially with Cellie by my side."
"You are right. She would attract unwanted attention." How ironic that Gimpy is saying it, the most unwanted of attention in my life right now. "Okay, we trust you. We will be back in 2 hours. See you soon."
Why did they end up trusting Gordon so easily? It doesn't make any sense. Oh well. I decided that it was time to skedaddle out of here.
"No," Gordon said, "I have to wait for them."
"What? You can't be serious. The whole duel thing was a sham idea on your part, in any case. And Contra - whatever that is - how are you even going to win at that? I'm not losing out to Gimpy - if I have to have sex with him, I am going to puke. I will kill you if that happens."
"Relax. I didn't know that you were such a highly strung up person. You seemed so chilled out when you were in school. What happened to you?"
I glared at him.
He laughed.
My heart softened towards him even more.
"Don't be like that. How about this? I'm sure you have been craving some pasta since we don't serve any gluten in our campsite, because of all the allergies. How about I cook some for you? I see that the kitchen downstairs still has some stuff available for that. I make a mean Napoli sauce. Have you ever had that?"
I softened completely and said, "No, I haven't! What is that made of?" It's just as well. I couldn't stay mad at him for long, especially when he started talking about food.
"It's a simple sauce. The only thing it needs is onions, garlic, tomatoes, and some herbs. I'm sure your kitchen will not have everything I need, but that's okay, we can improvise." He grinned happily at me, and I realized that he was actually having fun with this.
I felt better since it seemed like I had basically dragged him over here.
I'm sure he has a hundred more important things to do at camp, but maybe this is a good vacation for him. Maybe he doesn't get many days off.
I decided to go along with his enthusiasm, and try my best not to bring him down.
We went downstairs and saw that the burners on the stove were still working. Gordon whooped.
"They must not have switched off the natural gas connection here. That's one hurdle out of the way." He rummaged about in the pantry looking for spaghetti, and told me to go to the cold room to see if there were any onions or tomato sauce there. I did one better. I know that my mother grew onions, garlic and tomatoes in her backyard garden. It was her one strategy to survive any coming apocalypse - or that's what she told me.
I stepped into the backyard, and my eyes almost bowled over in wonder. I hadn't been back here in a while now. The backyard was one of the reasons my parents had bought this house. It was big enough for a huge garden, and that was a plus for my mother who loved to grow things. She had a green thumb, unlike me.
The fruit trees that they had planted when I was born were in full harvest now - big juicy apples, and tender peaches lined the back of the garden as if they were guarding the yard from intruders. The high fence that went around the backyard kept it quite safe from any trespassers, which is probably why no one had thought to come here and sabotage the yard.
And yes, the onions, garlic, and tomatoes were ripe and ready to go. Some squirrels, perhaps, had already gotten into them, but there was still enough to feed a whole family.
I wondered if there was any way to take all of the fruit and vegetables back to camp with us.
I gathered enough to take to the kitchen with me in my jacket pocket. I couldn't wait to see Gordon's face when I showed him my mother's garden's bounty. My mom would be so proud if she could see this - she always wished that the garden would feed me no matter if she were here or not.
Gordon's eyes lit up and I felt so happy that I was the reason for his joy.
"Look at this. Where did you find such fresh produce? I haven't seen a tomato like this in years."
I grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the backyard. I wanted him to see it first-hand.
"Do you think we can take some of this with us for the camp? My mother would have been so happy to be able to feed hungry mouths with her garden. It was her dream." I asked Gordon.
He looked at me with a weird look in his face. Silently, he watched me.
I wondered what he was thinking.
He pulled out a random device from underneath his t-shirt - it was hanging on a chain around his neck. It seemed to be a homing beacon of some sort. He switched it on, and it started emitting a low hum.
"They will know now to come for us. They will probably send a couple of guys. I'm sure between the four of us, we could take enough of this delicious food back to the camp. Thank you so much for thinking of us." He said, and kissed my forehead, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I blushed. He didn't notice, maybe. We walked back to the kitchen in high spirits.
He sang some Italian operetta, while he cooked. I laughed at his falsetto, and got hungrier and hungrier.
Is there any smell on this planet better than the smell of cooked garlic and onions? I don't think so. I was in ecstasy. I just wanted to sit here forever - watching this beautiful man cook this delightful dish. Is there a version of heaven that could beat this?
I closed my eyes for a second really savouring this moment. Who knows what will happen in the future? Who knows if Gordon will actually end up saving me from those goons? Either way, I wanted to really drag out this moment as much as possible. I wanted to ensure that I never forgot the smell of his cooking, and the way he looked in that frilly apron that my dear mother had left behind. I wanted to imprint these images into my mind.
Click, I pretended to take a picture with my phone, which was still back at camp, because it was completely useless now.
I used to be practically attached to the phone, unable to let go of it for even a second.
A memory came whispering by. We were sitting at the dining table where I was sitting now. It wasn't as battered as it was now. In fact, it had been taken care of rather nicely by my parents. My dad used to varnish it every few years, and my mother would polish the top every week on Sunday, which was her excuse to yell at me to help her and stop being a lazy bum.
We were having dinner, I believe. Or at least that's what my memory told me. And I was on my phone. I had met someone new and I was trying to get him to get past second base and take my virginity, asap. I didn't want to be one of those losers anymore, who walked around knowing that they couldn't get any.
My father asked me nicely to put my phone down and have a nice conversation with them. I ignored him. My mother plucked the phone from my hands, and threw it into her apron's pocket. "Now eat your meal and..." Before she could finish what she had to say, I ran off, crying about how horrible they were, and how I wished to have any other parents on the planet.
Of course, I apologized quickly enough. Otherwise, my mother would keep my phone forever. And I don't think my parents would have thought much of it, because they were back to their sunny selves the next day.
But were they actually hurt by that? Is that why they didn't take me when they left? Is that why they disappeared without a word?
I know everyone will tell me that it wasn't my fault, that it was probably extenuating circumstances, that they probably wanted to take me with them, but they couldn't, for some reason.
I could believe all of those excuses, but my heart still says that if only I had treated them better, maybe they would still be around right now.
"Hey, why the glum face? I'm cooking up a storm for you here, and you are sitting there looking absolutely weepy." Gordon said, as he placed a big plate of Spaghetti Napoli in front of me. Wow, this looked so good that I forgot what I was even worrying about a moment ago.
"This looks like a professional chef would have made it. And it smells divine. I'm going to dig in. Thank you!" I said. He laughed, perhaps getting used to my sudden mood switches.
I don't know what to tell him. I like to think that I am the glass half-full kind of gal, but sometimes, the glass is empty, and I know it's empty and there's nothing that can prove to me that it's even close to half-full.
The spaghetti was decadent. Somehow, Mr. Chef here had found some truffle oil in one of the shelves that hadn't been used before. The bottle hadn't even been opened. I couldn't believe the taste. Was food actually supposed to be this eatable? I had spent so much of the last year or so on frozen microwave food that I didn't even realize that food actually has some deeper meaning to human beings, besides just keeping them alive.
I slurped the last bit of pasta on my plate and contemplated licking the plate. Would that be going overboard? I decided I didn't care. I licked the plate clean. Gordon laughed at me, and said, "If I had known you would like it so much, I would have made much more."
"I don't know how to thank you. This has turned my mood around. I feel ready to go back and face the camp, after you beat Gimpy in that stupid duel. By the way, when was the last time you played Contra??"
I tried to keep my voice casual, but I was actually kind of anxious about him playing that game against Gimpy. It was obvious that Gimpy spent all of his free time playing video games, and causing a ruckus. He was probably moderately good at the game. What about Gordon? How was he?
"Oh, that game - I have never played it. But how hard could it be?" He said, way too casually for my taste.
"WHAT?? You can't be serious. I thought you had..." I yelled out, and not too soon, because as soon as Gordon put the plates into the sink, and finished washing them, that Gimpy walked in, with the consoles.
Oh, no. I am doomed. I am absolutely and utterly doomed. There's no way Gordon would beat Gimpy at this game. I wanted to believe in Gordon, I really did. But how could I? When the evidence was clearly staring me in the face.
The evidence being the high-tech gear that Gimpy was wearing on every available surface of his body. He had knee and elbow guards - why would he possible need those? He also had goggles that seemed to be self-reflective, and I'm sure had some fancy purpose for them. In addition, he also had a console that seemed to be much more powerful than the one they had deigned to give Gordon.
Gordon is the kind of guy who would always keep things equal and fair. That's why he has no idea how to deal with folks like him. I, of course, am from that other side of the spectrum - I know how to play rough, and I decided to help Gordon out with some advice.
I pulled Gordon to the side and whispered into his ear, "So, I think you won't be able to beat him in the actual game, looking at how he's dressed, and how confidence he is..." Gordon wasn't even listening to me, he was so excited about actually playing a game with the boys that he kept on pressing buttons on his console like a little boy would.
"Hmm," he said to me, when I hissed at him to pay attention to him.
"Are we gonna play or are we going to waste time?" Gimpy's friend said, pretending to be a gangster.
Gordon pulled away from me, and said, "Wish me luck," in that happy-go-lucky manner that had seemed sweet earlier, but now seemed dangerous.
Should I just sneak out? I wondered. What would they do? They can't comb the forest for me? Although the thought of being in that dark forest at night by myself was not an appealing idea.
I was worried. Perhaps, Gordon saw that.
He turned to me and said, "Don't worry. I got this. I'll be your knight in shining armour." He grinned at me, and a little bit of the worry I had inside of me melted. Faded away.
Maybe he would figure it out. I mean, how hard could it be? Gimpy's not that smart. If he could figure it out, then anyone should be able to.
I consoled myself a bit with that thought.
"Best of 5?" Gimpy said, grinning slyly at Gordon.
There was something wrong here. Gimpy was way too confident for a fool who really had nothing going for him. Maybe he was a master at this game, and he would annihilate Gordon, and I would be forced to spend the next few days in his vile company. Ugh, just the thought of it, makes me cringe.
Okay, no, it's fine. Let's be positive here, I commanded myself.
But my heart wouldn't listen and kept on thumping away. And my mind wouldn't listen and would keep on churning away.
Deciding that I would be the sole cheerleader here, I said out loud, "Gordon, you can do it!" I gave him a thumbs up, which he looked at quizzically. Okay, maybe, cheerleading wasn't really my cache.
That's okay. I would just cheer him on the inside.
They sat down on the only two chairs in the room. Rather uncomfortable, but what are you going to do? Gimpy was already geared up and ready to go. His friends were pumping him up, by massaging his shoulders, and giving him a bucket to spit into. This isn't a wrestling match, I thought to myself. That's where I had seen people do this kind of stuff. Or maybe it is a life and death situation, at least for me.
I put my hands together in a prayer stance, and I started praying in a way I had never prayed before.
The first match ended before I could even blink. I don't know much about the game, except there's a lot of shooting, and guns. But I didn't see Gordon as a blood-thirsty weapons guy, and he wasn't. He lost terribly. Devastatingly, actually. I had a hard time looking him in the face after that. Even though I was sending good vibes to him, I did feel a little angry that he didn't take me into consideration when going into this foolhardy mission.
Gordon mouthed, 'Don't worry' to me, and then went back to his game. The second game went a bit better, but unfortunately, Gimpy's game reflexes were too good for Gordon. My heart sank into my stomach. The thought of Gimpy's slimy fingers touching my body or his drooling mouth sucking on my tongue, made me want to puke.
I wondered if I should run away, while they weren't looking. But that would mean that I didn't have faith in Gordon, which at the moment, I didn't.
No, no, I shook my head. He's one of the few good ones. He wouldn't have done this, if he didn't think he could win. Maybe he's putting Gimpy into a false optimistic mode. Maybe he's going to come back strong in the third game, and annihilate him.
My heart started feeling better again. It didn't beat as hard, and I could breathe normally. Yes, that must be it.
Before I could start celebrating at his future victory though, the house was flooded with a bright white light. What is this?? It was blinding. They didn't wouldn't be able to continue their game, until the lights were switched off.
"Come out with your hands up. You have violated the law regarding residing in a house in the burbs. You will be punished. Come out peacefully and you will be given a lighter sentence. This is your first warning." The voice boomed.
What in God's name is going on? They were never this strict about the bylaws regarding burb residency. It had been ages since they went around and pulled people out of their homes like this. Why is this happening right now?
Gimpy and the boys were cowards till the end. They jumped out of one of the windows, and stumbled into the forest. Last I saw of them, I saw one of them wet their pants, as gunshots fired towards them.
I ran towards Gordon and said, "Let's go. We need to get out of here."
"But your stuff - it's upstairs still. We didn't bring it downstairs." He said, looking towards the stairs.
"Forget about that. You are the leader of your camp - your life is precious. We cannot..."
The light switched off then.
A couple of guys from our camp came in, guffawing the whole time.
"Don't tell me, we got you guys. You were pissing in your pants, weren't you?"
I felt the tension go out of my body like butter sliding in a warm pan. Oh god. My legs almost gave out, but Gordon caught a hold of me. It had been a stressful day to say the least. I don't know if I am cut out for all of this adventure. Maybe I should just stay in camp from now on, and do my guard duty, badly as it is.
"Hey guys! I told you not to play those pranks anymore. Look at Cellie - she's lost her mojo." He said those words, but he still high-fived them, as if they had done a great thing.
Wait a second, did he know that they were going to show up? And do something stupid like this? Is that why he didn't care about playing any game and losing at it? I looked suspiciously at him...
"Tell me the truth - you had no intention of winning that duel for my honour, did you?" I asked, as they behaved like boys, slapping each other on the back, and cackling like idiots.
"Hey, c'mon, Cellie. I told you I would keep you safe and I did. Isn't that what really matters?"
I gave him an acidic look, which told him all that he needed to know. And flounced off to the bedroom to grab my backpack.
In actual fact, I was grateful that he had a plan. Whereas I was floundering about with nary a clue of what I am doing or how I am doing it, he actually knows exactly what's going on, and how to take care of it.
"Yeah, we got here faster than we imagined. There was a supply truck that was travelling towards the burbs, and we decided to hitch a ride on the back. They didn't even notice us there."
"Ah, no wonder. I was expecting you guys not to get here until tomorrow at least. Well, it's great you are here." Gordon started explaining to them the thought he had about taking some of that fresh produce back to the camp, and all three of them walked over to the backyard. They had completely forgotten about me.
I wanted to be angry, but I was glad that we would be able to use the produce in a beneficial way. My mother would have wanted this. She always thought that everyone should learn how to grow their own food, so they never have to rely on an outside source for food again. She was a rebel at heart.
I wondered if she was still alive. I am sure if she was, she still thought of me. She wouldn't forget me that easily, would she?