Chapter 21

Twenty-One

The weather is really heating up in the next few days. It’s the hottest summer I’ve ever experienced in the Yukon. Even the chipmunks, which normally scurry through the undergrowth all day long, lie flat like pancakes in the shade of the trees and the blueberries are drying up on the bushes.

I don’t know what happened to Lou and I after Jayden’s story, but something is different. Maybe it’s the way Lou looks at me. With shy curiosity. More than once, I have caught her watching me out of the corner of her eye—and then quickly looking away as if I’ve caught her doing something illegal.

The thought of pleasing her tingles like heat in my veins. I’ve held back my desire for her for too long. Looking back, I can’t understand how I managed to not constantly think about how she would feel in my hands. The images that pop into my head confuse me. If she looks at me like that again, I won’t be able to think straight for an hour. My logical thinking frays into a heap of useless streaks and becomes a dream of bodies entwined on brown earth, lit by coppery sunlight filtering through the dense treetops. I smell the intense scent of the spruces, feel the prickling carpet of needles on my skin, feel Lou.

At some point, I admit to myself that I want her, even physically. Now that she’s losing her fear, a thousand times more than before. The dark burning in my chest has given way to another feeling. It’s a bit like floating.

Sometimes, I wake up in the morning and feel like I’ve fallen out of my old life; I think it should hurt, I must have broken all my bones, but feel like a newborn caribou calf taking its first unsteady steps. It takes me a while to realize that I’m happy in a strange way.

Ever since Lou told me Jayden’s story, we’ve been spending most days together.

We have breakfast in the RV, and while I clean up and do the dishes, Lou watches reruns of Hero of the Week. Every once in a while, I tease her about the show’s pseudo-heroic crap and she replies that I’m simply jealous of the attention the heroes receive. I can only laugh at that because the only attention I want is hers, but I haven’t said that out loud in a long time.

In the mornings, she often offers to help. She accompanies me to the lake and together we wash our dirty jeans and T-shirts. We kneel side by side on the bank, arms up to our elbows in the water, while Grey frolics around us, preferably biting one of my freshly washed clothes. Sometimes, I think he does it on purpose because he wants to annoy me. I’m afraid one day I’ll have to vie with him for Lou’s favor.

At lunchtime, we decide together what to cook for dinner, no, usually Lou decides and I merely nod. The main thing is that she eats. Afterward, we spend two hours in the RV, especially on days when the air between the spruce trees and the deadwood shimmers with heat.

Nowadays, I seldom see Lou standing around anymore, clutching her necklace and pendant as if it was the anchor to her past.

However, despite my happiness, I don’t trust the peace. It’s going too well. From time to time, I wonder if Lou is deceiving me and secretly plotting to stab me in the back, strangle me, or whatever she thinks she can do to me. I don’t want to test her, but I also know that one misstep from her could ruin everything like a card removed from the bottom of a house of cards.

I dread that moment. The bad thing is I don’t know how I will react. I still don’t trust myself, I don’t know enough about the new Brendan because that part is still foreign to me.

In the morning, Grey’s pathetic whine wakes me up. In the bunk above the driver’s cab, I sit up and, bleary-eyed, look down the aisle. Lou has left the folding door open and I spot Grey, who has tumbled out of his blanket lair and is sucking on the corner of the blanket.

I quickly climb down, sneak barefoot to the back, and pluck Grey from the down comforter with one hand.

Carefully, I set him down on my fleece sweater on the seat and regret a little that this sweater will probably never be anything other than Grey’s daytime sleeping place. The pup looks up at me with his beady eyes and then crawls awkwardly under one sleeve, whimpering.

“You’re cold too, aren’t you?” I look out the window. A thin fog hangs like a veil between the trees and the sky is dusky gray. It’s five thirty at most. I quickly pull my sleep shirt over my head, throw it on Grey for fun, and slip into my clothes.

Grey starts whining again. My shirt comes to life and moments later his little head peeks out from under the top. “It’s okay. I’m on it.” Watching him, I fill the kettle with water and pour the powder into the measuring cup. It occurs to me that I left the scissors on the tabletop last night.

Lou didn’t say anything about it, but maybe she didn’t notice. It’s the first time I haven’t locked away a sharp tool immediately after use other than the knives on my belt.

It only takes me a second to decide. I quietly disappear into the bathroom and deposit the scissors in the mirror cabinet. I’m wondering all the time if Lou is planning something; maybe this is how I’ll find out.

Something in me makes me do it.

It’s now eight o’clock and I’ve made coffee and toasted frozen pancakes. Grey hangs lengthways across my forearm and is drinking his second portion of milk of the day. His stomach bulges like an inflated balloon. As I wonder if he has had enough, the RV rocks gently—a sure sign that Lou is moving in the bed.

“Hey!” I look up to see her sitting on the mattress, staring in my direction.

Has she been watching me for a while?

She blinks a few times and rubs her sleep-reddened cheeks. Two strands of hair stick out from her head—it looks funny, a bit like a clown.

I put down Grey’s milk pouch, take the key on the table next to me, and toss it to her on the bed without comment. For a while, I used to unlock her bonds in the morning, but over time it felt like I was her personal jailer.

Lou opens the shackle and disappears into the bathroom. She’s rarely talkative this early in the morning and it’s best to leave her alone until she’s had at least one cup of coffee.

The RV sways back and forth again. I don’t know exactly what she’s doing in the bathroom, but she’s definitely not on the toilet. It’s also not the first time the whole RV rocks like a ship in a storm once Lou has closed the door behind her. A few days ago, I thought about setting up a camera. Maybe she’s trying to crawl up the walls and get out through the hatch in the roof, but a camera in the bathroom would be wrong on so many levels.

At some point, I hear the water rushing and the RV’s plumbing gurgling like intestines, and shortly afterward, the door swings open. “Could you give me a pair of scissors?” Lou asks, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“For what?” I stand up with Grey in my arms. It’s funny that she’s asking for them today of all days.

“I want to even out my hair.”

I think I hear veiled reproach in her words. “Look in the cabinet.”

Truth or pretense?

Lou closes the door behind her, leaving me to ponder.

I was asking for this, though nothing can happen. She’s hardly going to overpower me, just the thought of Lou threatening me with nail scissors is rather pathetic. What about her though? Would she do anything to herself? Then again, she has seemed a lot less desperate this past week.

Before I can stop myself, I sneak to the bathroom door and listen. The fine, high-pitched sound of hair being cut can be heard through the gap between door and floor.

Truth.

I breathe a sigh of relief and hug Grey who is still hanging down from my arm to my stomach.

“You’ve had enough for now or you’ll get a stomach ache again and cry our ears full.” I use two fingers to grab the almost empty bag of milk from the table and throw it into the garbage under the sink. That’s when I notice water sloshing around my used cup.

“The gray-water tank is full,” is the first thing Lou tells me when she emerges from the bathroom and joins me at the table with a full cup of coffee.

When Grey discovers Lou, he begins to fidget. “I know. I noticed the water standing in the sink.” I hand Grey to her across the table and he immediately licks her face. Giggling, she puts him on her lap.

I stealthily scrutinize her. Her hair is now all one length, falling slightly below her chin.

“Looks good what you did to your hair,” I say. Cutting it with my hunting knife was practical, but it made it look rather wild.

“I just cut off the tips.” Lou reaches to where a fringe used to be, but there’s nothing there. She was thorough.

I suppress the urge to grab her hair and ruffle it. She’s wearing her light blue sleep shirt that makes her eyes shine brightly. As a matter of fact, they sparkle and are no longer so cloudy. When she realizes I’m watching her, she suddenly smiles.

“Shall I empty the tank after coffee?” she asks, stretching the smile a little too far. It looks fake.

Watch out!screams the voice inside me.

Shut up, replies the part of me that wants to believe Lou. I start to nod deliberately.

“I’ll show you which lever to pull,” I say, making it absolutely clear that I’ll come along.

“I could also take the buckets to the stream. I feel strong enough.”

Damn it!When she looks at me like a lamb, I can hardly refuse her anything and she knows it!

“Alone?” I ask anyway, just as innocently as she looks at me.

She shrugs and bites her lip.

“Give an inch, take a mile syndrome, I assume.” With a short snort, I stand up and eye her from above. I would never let her go to the lake alone. “Did you put the scissors back or are you going to use them on my neck later?”

Lou crosses her arms over her chest. “I put them back. You can check the cabinet.”

“I’ll do that later—assuming you let me live that long.” I can’t resist a bit of ridicule. I grab two white cable ties from my stash in the kitchen cupboard and start threading the bells on them like glass beads. After every bell, I look at Lou, and every time our eyes meet but before I can interpret it, she looks away.

I feel like the air is supercharged with a buzz and my mouth gets dry. The next time I look at Lou, her cheeks are flushed and she’s fidgeting in the seat, making the upholstery creak. She hastily puts a piece of pancake in her mouth.

“Done.” I’ve threaded the last bell, seven in total per zip tie. Like every morning as I place the bells on Lou, she alternates arms while eating like it’s no big deal. Maybe that’s her way of coping with it. I step directly in front of the bench. Carefully, I put the straps around her small wrists and pull them as tight as necessary. Lou’s hands are shaking.

I look at her face again, holding the end of the second cable tie a moment longer than I have to. My fingers tingle and the strange feeling of reality merging with my dreams makes reality falter.

Why is she so nervous? Is it possible that she suddenly wants me? Does she feel more for me?

There’s a rushing in my head like the wind blowing through the trees and it sounds like I’m at the ocean. I pull my hand back and brush the back of Lou’s hand. Goose bumps run down her bare arm.

My heart is pounding.

Lou swallows and avoids eye contact, though she’s stroking Grey with trembling hands.

“Lou?” I whisper.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t try to run away again.”

Her face darkens in the blink of an eye. “I am not planning to,” she whispers.

Oh, yes, you are, sweet Lou!

I reach under her chin and pull her head up so she has to look at me.

“I don’t mean that kind of escape,” I say harshly. Wherever I touch her, my skin burns like fire. Lou’s pupils dilate like I’ve put belladonna in her eyes. I feel like everything inside me sinks into my stomach and explodes in hundreds of salvos of fire. I want to kiss her. Now. Her lips are wet and shiny. Just do it! a voice inside me screams, but I’m frozen, unable to breathe, like I suddenly have cement in my lungs. And the longer Lou looks at me, the more I see her doubts grow. There’s a kind of fear gathering in the blue of her eyes that I’ve never seen.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me like…that…” she whispers breathlessly.

I feel her pulse pounding against my fingertips, it takes me a heartbeat to realize I’m still holding her.

I withdraw my hand in a haze and every finger tingles. For seconds, time seems trapped around us, locked in a vacuum. I return Lou’s shimmering gaze, which is so much more than fear of me.

But what else should she be afraid of?

I mechanically shake my head, unable to find a quick answer.

Lou starts eating again, but her shoulders are hunched.

What’s with you, Lou?I want to shout. Why are you looking at me like you want to kiss me and crawl away from me at the same time?

Her hands grip Grey’s fur and her whole body trembles. Whatever just happened between us scared and upset her.

I retire outside to give her the time she needs.

While Lou showers, I collect salmonberries and rose hips from around the RV without ever taking my eyes off the side door. I’ll be making a fruit wine with the salmonberries in the next few days and we can either eat the rose hips raw or I’ll show Lou how to make jam out of them. I keep thinking back to that moment, Lou’s dilated pupils. That couldn’t have been an act. Not that! I doubt everything else, but there’s no way she can consciously provoke such a physical reaction.

Maybe her feelings for me aren’t an illusion after all. Whereby—maybe pupils dilate even when love is imaginary. Is imagining even the right word?

When my bowls are full, I still haven’t found answers to my questions. I go in and set them on the counter before calling to Lou through the closed folding door that I’ll be waiting for her outside by the drainpipe.

Five minutes later, I’ve opened the flap and put a bucket under the silver pipe when she comes out in jeans and a yellow lacy blouse.

From the intense way she’s holding Grey in her arms and avoiding eye contact, I take it she’s still embarrassed. Or unsure. I pretend not to notice and inspect the hook I used to fasten the flap with exaggerated care.

Lou kneels next to me and sets Grey down on the ground between us. If the putrid stench of highway rest stop bathrooms disgusts her, she doesn’t show it. I’m about to start when Grey grabs my shoelace like it’s a slowworm.

“Hey, little one!” I nudge him in the side to show him who’s in charge, but he doesn’t care. With his ears laid back, he stalks me and sinks his little teeth into the button on my pants pocket. Lou chuckles.

Sighing, I pull him away and growl at him darkly. With a plaintive sound, he jumps to Lou and tucks in his tail.

“We’ve got to start raising him or he’ll think he’s the alpha,” I tell Lou. Not that he’s going to side with her and attack me one day in an attempt to defend her.

“Can we even keep him?” Lou asks, watching Grey, who pretends the little argument between us never happened.

I shrug. “Sure, why not? Wolves behave like dogs when they grow up with humans.”

“Won’t he want to go back one day? He hears the wolves in the woods.” Lou watches the pup and appears deep in thought.

“Of course that can happen. Although it’s questionable if the pack would accept him. Maybe one day, he’ll disappear into the woods and never come back.” I say it nonchalantly, but the prospect of losing Grey sickens my stomach. He’s been a link between Lou and me, and if he were to run off, it would be a bad omen; at least that’s how I see it.

I push the thought away and show Lou which lever to pull to release the gray water. I explain to her again the difference between the capacity of the two tanks.

“Remember to shut the valve when the bucket is three-quarters full. It will take a while for the flow to stop.”

She nods mechanically.

“Let’s do it.” I point to the pipe opening, which is the diameter of a coconut.

Lou leans forward a little and studies the two valves as if they were unpredictable mathematical equations. Lost in thought, she shakes her head and hesitantly grabs the front lever.

I don’t know if it’s a joke or if she actually wasn’t listening to me. I wait a second too long to say no. Lou pulls on the lever and Grey lunges at me, grabbing my pants pocket a second time. Cursing, I push him away, knocking over the bucket with my elbow.

“Fucking shit!” I can’t react fast enough. A dark brown fountain shoots out of the pipe and spills over my lap like a flood. It stinks of stale piss, chemicals, and shit. The stench paralyzes me and I watch as the liquid soaks me through and through. My black pants are growing heavy and turning brown.

Flashing lights hurl me back onto Thorson Ave, lying in the dark, arms pressed against a rigid body, thighs tucked up, but it’s of no use.

Not these pictures, not now! Oh, God, not now! No flash!

I gasp and a splash of the liquid lands in my mouth. The foul taste explodes on my palate. My tongue burns and I reflexively throw myself to the side, landing on all fours, gagging a few times without throwing up.

With all my might, I force myself to breathe calmly like I did in the coffin at the very beginning for the first few minutes. In-out-in-out.

Everything’s fine. Lou is still here. Grey is still here.

Everything’s fine, Brendan. Calm down!

I spit on the ground a few times, but it doesn’t help. Again, black dots dance in front of my eyes.

Look around, stay here!

I obey myself and look left and right before retching again.

Beside me, the shit flows like a stinking creature in the direction of the spruce tree line. Lou lies beyond it off to the side and Grey crouches on her stomach and howls at me like it’s my fault.

I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, spreading something disgustingly soft across it. In addition to disgust, anger is building up in my stomach.

“That was the wrong fucking lever!” I snap.

“I’m sorry,” Lou gasps breathlessly.

I suppress the urge to vomit and convulse internally. I’d like to shout at her that it was an unlucky pull and that she should listen to me next time, when I notice a strange lump on the ends of her hair.

“You have shit in your hair!” I blurt out triumphantly, pointing vaguely at her head. “It looks too funny!” As soon as I say it, I feel something run down my cheek. I wipe it and look at my fingers. Poop brown.

I look again at Lou, lying next to the caustic sludge. Grey is still wailing indignantly. Something trembles inside me. Deep in my stomach, again and again. My shoulders shrug.

I don’t understand right away, but sounds I’ve never heard me make come out of my throat like choppy air pumps. I laugh. More and more, until my abdomen hurts and I can’t breathe anymore.

Eventually, I gag again, but then I continue laughing while Lou just stares at me like I’ve finally lost my mind. I don’t know how to stop, but after a while, the cramps in my stomach recede, the sounds stop, and I end up gasping for breath.

“You don’t want to know about all the places you have it,” I hear Lou interrupt the quietness flippantly.

A flock of blowflies circles around her head and suddenly I’m afraid I have to laugh again. I felt like I was losing control and I can’t let that happen. To get rid of the feeling, I shake like a dog, look from Lou to Grey, and then to the fringe of pines.

“Race you to the lake!” I call out to Lou, abruptly jumping to my feet. With four long steps, I reach the trees and hear frantic ringing behind me. Lou took up the chase. I gasp and swear as I dash through ferns and trees in front of her, leaving a foul stench behind me.

Fully dressed, I jump into the water and my breath catches. The lake is freezing cold, not yet warmed by the midday sun. I dive a few feet along the sandy bottom and come to the surface with a snort.

“It’s fucking cold!” I call out to Lou, who’s standing on the bank with Grey in her arms. Taking a breath, I lower myself under the water again, rub both hands through my hair and feel the thick sludge dissolving. When I resurface, Lou is kneeling on the shallow bank, leaning her head down to dip her hair in the water. Of course, she can’t swim and doesn’t dare go in the water. However, the lake isn’t all that deep, so there is no danger.

I wade a few steps through the water, the heaviness of the wet pants pulling me down a bit, but I’m definitely not going to take them off. Lou could jump to the wrong conclusion.

I look down at myself with a disgusted snort.

A mixture of lake and black water drips from my hoodie. I rip it over my head, throw it into the lake and walk a few steps to the babbling waterfall. Directly underneath, I spread my arms and let the ice water beat my hair. For seconds, I hear nothing but the powerful rushing, smell the cool freshness of the mountain, feel the jets of water on my bare skin. It feels a bit like when I laughed before. Lou suddenly pops into my mind and I glance over my shoulder.

It’s like déjà vu. I know that facial expression, eyes round, lips parted. She stares spellbound in my direction, just like she did in the alcove with the camping utensils.

What does she see in me right now? The young man, the adventurer? Or is she contemplating the moment to run away from her captor?

Not knowing gnaws at me and has made me restless for days. I return to the curious feeling of no longer knowing anything for sure.

“You can wash Grey by the waterfall over there,” I call out to her. “There’s a warm spot.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Lou? Are you listening?”

“What did you say?” She looks at me like she’s never seen me before.

“You can wash Grey in the waterfall if you like. There’s one spot where the water is a little warmer.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure!”

She gets up, fishes Grey off the ground, and stiffly walks like a stork to the back of the lake all the while holding Grey out as if he were infested with parasites.

“Left! Further left!” I shout twice before she understands.

If only I knew what she is thinking or feeling. If only she would talk to me about it. It makes no sense to address it, I already tried that today. Maybe I was too direct. Maybe she simply needs more time, that’s all. After all, we’re just beginning to get to know and understand each other better.

I think back to earlier when I had to laugh so hard. Even now I can still feel the reverberations inside me, the trembling in my chest, the shaking, the tightening of my stomach muscles. In a way, it’s just like crying, just the opposite. Absent-mindedly, I wade after my drifting sweater. Laughter and crying may also be two sides of the same coin, of the same emotion, so close together, yet so far apart.

I feel strangely alien.

Too bad you don’t want to know who you truly are.

Maybe Lou can help me figure that out. Maybe with her I can become the best version of myself.

I fish the hoodie out of the water, which is now almost clean, and wade back. Lou watches me and I impulsively wave the sweater at her. She doesn’t laugh or splash water around herself, but the way she stands in front of the waterfall comes close to the images from my imagination.