Excerpt: Me, you and here

When it started it there was only a little bit of rain. Then the storm took on more anger. Thunder powered through the air and vibrated the earth. Lightening whipped through the clouds and lashed at the nearest outlet. The only thing we could do, you and I, was get off the river and try to keep from getting drenched.

I’m not sure who suggested turning the canoe over for shelter – me or you. I think it was me. Once I got stuck in weather like this when I was little and my family was on the lake for the afternoon. My dad brought us to shore and we all hid underneath the boat until the pelting rain stopped.

This morning had been dressed as a sunny day. No dark clouds had threatened our way. No signs of anything to impede our journey. Except for your shadowy face. I didn’t dare ask what was wrong this time. We had miles to go and not hours to wait while you explained to me what I did or who I wasn’t.

We planned this trip years ago. When we were both younger and more energetic and happier? I put a question mark beside happier because I can’t answer that for you. I only know I was happier.

I could be happy now too. If I only knew you would join me. But you’re not going to. At the end of this trip we will go our separate ways. It’s not that I want to. It’s that I have to let you go. Otherwise you will pull me down with you and release me when I am rough and ragged. And I don’t want that.

Helping you pull the canoe up the bank and under a tree, I put the packs against the bark. Something for us to lean on. Perhaps even snuggle with. Then we turned the boat over and crowded into our makeshift shelter.

“Are you warm?” I asked you. The hull echoed my voice and it sounded hollow.

“Yes. You?” Your voice was just as empty. We had both not inquired out of concern, but out of habit. Making sure the other one was just as comfortable as the other. Even when we didn’t mean it.