Simultaneously, River and I put our cell phones in our pockets, and, for a split second, the crazy idea that he could be Mr. Spock occurs to me, which, of course, is bullshit.
“Time to leave this place,” he says now, walking to a pine tree near the rear.
You said you would tell me something about yourself, I type and hold the phone under his nose.
He smiles but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he fiddles with the slackline using a ratchet. After a few movements, the line loosens, and one end flutters to the ground.
“This is the tree protector, a TreeBuddy,” he explains to me and taps the felt support surface wrapped around the trunk of the pine tree.
He is intentionally making me fidget.
He calmly removes the protector, then goes to the other side and finishes by packing the ratchet, slings, springy line, and tree protectors into a backpack next to the pine tree.
At least now I know what the stuff in his backpack was for.You owe me an answer!I put an angry emoji after it. When did I start doing that?
River smiles again and puts on shoes—black flip-flops. “Yes, that’s right. I remember!” He shoulders the backpack and starts walking. I hurry after him, half-amused, half-annoyed. He takes a different route. “I want you to think about something, Kansas.”
Damn, my battery is about to die.
“I want you to think about your Big Five.”
My Big Five? I give him a confused look. I think of the Big Five Personality Traits that James told me about, and one of them is openness to experiences. Does it have something to do with psychology?
“You know what a bucket list is, right?”
I nod. We climb over a few fallen trees, and suddenly, house-sized rocks rise before us. River takes the path through a crevasse, and the air immediately grows clammy and cool.
I think about what he means by the Big Five as a breathtaking panorama opens up in front of me: a deep blue lake framed by lime-green trees, behind which rise the same type of rocks we just walked through. Ancient rock, furrowed and reddish-grey like the faces of old Indian chiefs.
“Sylvan Lake, Custer State National Park, but that’s irrelevant.” River has stopped and is pulling his T-shirt over his head. “I’m going for a swim. Are you coming?”
I stare at the glittering lake surface on which the clouds are reflected and gesture in the negative. Even if it weren’t for the bruises, I wouldn’t strip down to my underwear in front of River, and I turn away when I see him bare-chested. He must exercise a lot as he is slim, toned, and almost perfect. Like a model. And I’m pathetic, pale, and out of shape.And you kiss like a dead fish!
After a few seconds, I hear him dive into the water. I look over at him again, and when he appears, I see letters flash on his tanned shoulder but can’t see what it says from this distance. It looks like calligraphy. Whoever gave him the tattoo must have put a lot of effort into it.
“It’s a shame you’re not coming in. The water is refreshing.”
I shrug, and River swims alongside me with long strokes. “Can you carry my clothes?”
He still hasn’t told me what he wanted to tell me, but of course, I hurry back and collect his jeans, white T-shirt, and flip-flops.
I circle the lake thoughtfully as he swims alongside me. On the opposite side, there is a narrow beach in front of the rocks with a few visitors, but they’re far away.
I wish I was as easy-going as River. I wish I could do what I want. The wind blows the voices and laughter of the early swimmers to us, and I feel that wall again that shields me from everything, the deep trench of silence.
What does River mean by the Big Five? If it’s something like a bucket list, then he probably means five things I want to do in life before I die.
It’s easier to die together. Tolstoy, Mom, and River McFarley. He may be dead serious. Maybe he truly wants to jump off a highline with me. At least now I know what it is—a slackline, almost a mile up in the air.
“Hey!” River is standing next to me as if he grew out of the ground. I must have been completely out of it, but that’s what I’m good at—disconnecting. I still can’t look at him, not when he’s nearly naked and wet. He smells of lake water and a hint of sweat mixed with a trace of aftershave. He exudes masculinity, and it makes me weak in the knees and numbs me at the same time.
Without looking, I hand him his clothes and, out of the corner of my eye, watch him dry himself with his T-shirt.
“So... have you thought about your Big Five?”
I’m flattered that he trusts me to piece together his cryptic statements. At least he doesn’t think I’m stupid.
Still, I shake my head, wanting to keep moving. I assume this path eventually leads back to the parking area or that the direction is correct.
