Chapter 25 – May 23, 1994 – Camille
May in Northern Wisconsin was worlds away from May in Mississippi. Still warm, but not nearly as humid. It was downright bearable compared to what I knew.
The river bubbled nearby as I swung my legs on the porch steps, watching Erich curse as he toyed with something underneath the car.
He was on his back on the ground with a flashlight and a wrench.
The Nova had been making strange sounds for a few days, and after our trip to the grocery store, Erich decided it was time to play mechanic.
The sun beat down over our peaceful five acres of trees.
I wore distressed jean shorts, which gave away my pale legs, and a baggy, light brown, bleach-stained “Miller Lite” T-shirt with a ducktail I tied in the back so it would fit better.
My hair was tied up in a messy bun, and I debated using the opportunity to get some color in my fair skin while I waited for Erich to tell me to hold the flashlight or something equally simple compared to what he was doing underneath the car.
“All good down there?” I called out from my shaded seat on the steps.
Erich mumbled in response, and I leaned forward to see if I could catch a glimpse of what exactly he was doing.
All I could see were his boots and the bottoms of his jeans from where I was, even if I tilted my head sideways.
“Fucking… goddamn it.” He voiced louder, and my lips turned up in a humorous smile.
“Do you know what’s wrong yet?” I asked before the ominous “clank,” presumably of the wrench hitting something it shouldn’t have.
The flashlight was turned off, and my roommate emerged from underneath the vehicle, his jeans covered in damp brown dirt and car grease.
Earlier in the day, he ripped the sleeves off his already distressed white T-shirt so he wouldn’t overheat underneath the car, but it wasn’t helping much.
The sweat and oil mingled together and smudged his face.
I could see the drops of sweat beading on his forehead from where I sat, causing his hair to stick to his temples.
Erich got to his feet and grabbed the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face, revealing his glistening chest and the fading black ink of the tattoo I had seen once before. “Should be fixed,” he answered through the staining white cotton.
“I’m curious. Where did you learn how to fix cars?
I have a feeling Mystique has never held a wrench in her life.
” I crossed my legs at the ankles and reached for the pitcher of lemonade I had made an hour earlier.
I poured it into the two glasses and held one out to him, hoping it would be tempting enough that he’d take a break before he overheated or ditched the shirt altogether and summoned an army of thirsty Wisconsin women armed with six-packs of Leinenkugel Honey Weiss who might be tubing down our part of the river that afternoon.
Erich’s breathing came off labored as he sat down on the porch next to me, accepting my glass of freshly squeezed lemonade. I could feel the heat coming off him in waves, and his white shirt was starting to soak through from the sweat. “You’re right,” was all he said before he took a sip.
“So…” I trailed off, waiting for the rest of the answer.
He raised an eyebrow, the glass still at his lips as his steely eyes watched me through thirsty gulps. The chirping of cicadas was drowned out by the flow of the river, and the heavy thud of the glass as Erich drained it and set it on the porch. “It started with tractors.”
“What?” I asked, gently holding my own glass as I fought back a giggle.
“I worked on tractors.” His breathing was becoming less heavy as he leaned forward, clasping his hands on his knees. A few locks of hair freed themselves from his sticky forehead, falling forward with the movement. A drop of sweat rolled from his cheek and fell to the bottom step.
“I would’ve never guessed.” I tapped my foot gently as I enjoyed the sickly sweet citrus drink in my hand. “You don’t look like a farmer.”
“I’m not,” he confirmed.
“You’re really bad at this,” I pointed out, feeling my own temples succumb to the unusual heat of a late May day. “It’s been a year. Tell me about farm life already.”
Erich snorted, lifting his head up before unclasping his hands and flicking my forehead. “A year and you haven’t learned the art of dropping it.”
I glared at him before rubbing the spot on my forehead, though the action wouldn’t help much in the long run of preventing it from turning red. “Tell me about farm life,” I insisted around the sting.
Erich huffed and leaned back on the porch, resting his back on the worn, brown-painted wood and taking advantage of the shade. “A dairy farm. My second foster home.”
“That’s a start.” I set my glass down and adjusted myself to lie next to him, staring at the roof of the porch. My arm grazed his own, cold and wet from sweat, sending a chill that awakened goosebumps.
“That’s all there is to it. Sorry, Bambi.” His devilish smirk spread on his face as he turned his head to the left to stare at me.
“Okay. Next question.” Erich groaned in response, and my lips curled up into a smile, which turned into a laugh as I stuffed a strand of black hair beneath my head. “Why do you call me Bambi?”
“Your eyes,” Erich answered softly, freeing his arms from my accidental touch and crossing them behind his head. I watched his side profile as the shade of the porch roof caused his eyes to appear a dull gray. “And your tragic backstory before you learned how to navigate the real world.”
“Hmm…” I hummed, biting my lip. “I see some major differences between myself and Bambi. But I guess that makes you Thumper.”
Erich rolled his eyes as his smirk grew, and I lightly punched his side before I got up. “Call me Thumper and I’m leaving you in the woods,” he warned jokingly.
“Not fair,” I exclaimed from my sitting position as I grabbed my glass of lemonade again. “How come you get to use nicknames but I don’t?”
Erich rose from his lying position as well, launching himself up gracefully to tower over me on the porch. “My car. My house.”
I stuck my tongue out at him in response before taking a sip of my lemonade. It was starting to get warm from being out in the heat for so long, and I cursed the fact that I didn’t refill the ice tray with water.
Erich made his way down the porch steps toward the car.
He leaned down to pick up the wrench and flashlight before opening the driver’s side door and stashing them in the backseat.
The car door shut loudly, breaking the peace of the forest around us.
My gaze wavered from the light breeze in the fresh green foliage of the trees, and back to Erich, before I nearly spit out my lemonade.
He started to rip his dirty white T-shirt over his head, then moved on to unzipping his jeans.
“Easy, big guy. Virgin eyes.” I yelled from the porch steps, but couldn’t bear to shift my glance away as he revealed red plaid boxers. He kicked his boots off before jumping on one foot to slip his jeans off.
“Then don’t look.” He yelled back, nearly tripping over the jean leg as he finally threw his clothes to the ground. “I’m going to swim in this damn river, and I’m going to like it.”
“Sounds like leeches,” I warned over the several feet of distance between us.
“Never stopped me before,” he answered. Socks off. I wondered if the boxers were staying for the show, but found myself peeling my curious eyes away and standing up. I kicked off my sandals, and with one foot in front of the other, I was closing the distance between myself and the river.
I had every intention of beating him to the river for the first swim.
I wasn’t stripping like he was, but instead going for a quick dip to be the first. I could hear Erich’s bare feet closing in behind me, then felt his arms grab my waist as I shrieked in response, my shock turning into a laugh as he spun me around and away from the river.
“You can’t be the first. It was my idea.” He set me down as quickly as he picked me up. I shakily regained my balance before turning back toward the welcoming babble of the calmly flowing river. I quickened my pace, jumping on his back before he could set one foot in the water.
I leaped with enough force to wrap my arms around his neck, my dry arms sticking to the remnants of sweat clinging to his neck and hair.
I then wrapped my legs around his bare waist, crossing at the ankles.
He let out a small laugh in response to the new weight he was carrying before holding my arms with his own.
He tried to pry them free as he stepped into the water, but I stubbornly jammed my elbow into his chest.
“You’re getting thrown in,” he warned quickly as the water continued to rush around his knees.
Before he could fall forward and use the shock of cold water to free himself of me, I released my hold and fell back on my own, letting the ice-cold water soak my hair and cover my face before I emerged with a drawn-out gasp.
I found my footing and ran back to the riverbank.
I made every attempt to avoid big rocks jamming themselves into the bottoms of my feet.
When I finally made it to the grass, I was shivering as I prayed for the sun to warm the drenched clothes stuck to my body.
“Weak,” Erich called out behind me, and I shot him a fiery glare as I shuddered on land. He dunked under once, and I lost sight of him for several seconds before he emerged, shaking river droplets from his hair. “Fuck, never mind, that is cold.”
I gritted my teeth to calm the tremors my body sent in response to my now soaking outfit as Erich set foot on land. My shirt clung to my skin, insulating the cold far worse than if I were to take it off.
I focused my gaze above his chest to avoid how his boxers likely left nothing to the imagination. My arms were crossed in front of my chest to hide my own drenched shirt from his gaze as he rubbed the water from his eyes, shooting me a mischievous smirk.
“I should’ve let you go first for a temp check,” he joked, blinking the water from his eyelashes so he could see my reaction better.
My teeth chattered so hard I couldn’t fire back a sarcastic response. Instead, I narrowed my eyes at him and willed my reaction to be enough of a response to his great idea of swimming in the newly thawed river.
“Your angry looks don’t scare me,” he snickered before tossing me over his shoulder, forcing a gasp from my throat as my soaked T-shirt failed to shield my breasts from rubbing against his bare skin. “You can have the first warm shower as an apology.”
His shoulders were cold and damp from the water, and the way my arms stuck as I tried to free myself was uncomfortable. “You’re an ass,” I choked out, feeling my leg bounce against his chest as he walked.
Erich stopped short of the steps to the cabin’s porch before setting me down.
When he did, my clothes clung to him, causing my shirt to ride up slightly.
My hair was dripping wet down my arms, and as I steadied myself on my feet, I turned my chin up defiantly to meet his eyes, only to be met by something new.
I almost missed it. His eyes lingered on my drenched shirt, but quickly darted to my eyes before he grounded himself. The right corner of his lip twitched, and I watched one drop of cold river water run down the side of his cheek and fall to the ground.
I inhaled deeply as we stood like that for several seconds. I forgot about the piercing chill causing my whole body to tremble. I ached to see his longing again, if only for a moment, before he closed the gap between us.
Erich leaned forward, and for a brief second, I thought maybe he’d finally kiss me. I held my breath as his hand came up to my waist, pulling my shirt down to cover the skin. “You’re stuck with me,” he murmured in my ear as the pitter-patter in my chest intensified.
His face was inches away from mine. I wanted to read his mind. I wanted him to pick me back up. I wanted to be shown what that meant, but I was left to fixate on his shaded eyes and decipher it myself.
“Let’s get you inside.” He finally broke the moment, and his hands came back to my waist before ushering me up the stairs, leaving the tension in my mind to turn to disappointment.