Richard Laymon - Tread Softly

Seems the little scheme had paid off.

The two kids were getting along pretty well — even better than Scott had expected. They didn't act smitten, but it was obvious that they enjoyed each other's company, and who knew what might be going on in their minds? Better, maybe, not to know. Just be glad Julie's back to normal.

At the stream, he spotted a place where sunlight slanted down through a gap in the trees. The bright swath, hazy with dust motes, fell upon a cluster of rocks not far away. He tramped through the bushes and stepped out onto the rocks. For a long time, he stood motionless, letting the warmth seep into him.

When he felt sufficiently thawed, he took off his shirt. He crouched low and cupped the cold water into his mouth. Then he brushed his teeth. He managed to raise a thin lather on his face, using a biodegradable soap, and began to shave with a straight razor.

"You're a terrible disappointment."

He looked downstream. Karen, in her sweatpants and parka, was standing on a log bridge, arms folded across her chest, staring at him. "Come on over here where it's warm," he called. He continued to shave while she hurried toward him. She leaped onto a flat rock beside him.

"Oh, this is better."

"And why am I such a disappointment? Or don't I want to know?"

"Using a razor," she said in a mocking tone. "I would've expected a macho guy like you to shave with a dull knife."

"Tried it once. Half my face came off with the whiskers. This is far superior. Gives a nice, close shave without the inconvenience of a bloodbath." Smiling up at her, he said, "Did you come by for a shave?"

A blush darkened her face. "My legs, you mean?"

"Also your legs, if you like."

"Nasty man."

"Is that a no?"

"Other people are up and around."

"Damn." He swirled the blade through the water, wiped it dry across a leg of his jeans, and folded it shut. He splashed water on his face. When the soap was rinsed off, he picked up his towel. "Sleep well?" he asked as he dried his face.

"Like a rock."

"No more dreams?"

"Not bad ones. How about you?"

"I'll tell you about mine tonight."

"Oh ho-ho!"

"When I bring back your sweatshirt." He stood up and lowered the zipper of her parka. She wore nothing under it. He slid his arms inside and around her back, and pulled her against him. She was smooth and warm.

"Good morning," she said.

He kissed her.

Then there were voices in the distance. Reluctantly, Scott eased away from her.

"Nobody's here yet," she said, and lifted his hands to her breasts. She held them there. Her nipples were firm under his palms. She sighed and her head tilted back, eyes shut against the sun.

"Wanton woman," Scott whispered.

"Wantin' you," she said. She pressed his hands firmly against her, then let go.

Scott moved his hands down the undersides of her breasts, down her ribs, inward as her velvety skin sloped to her belly. Then he pulled together the lower corners of her parka and fitted the zipper into its slot. He raised the tab about three inches. "There."

"Oh, charming."

Someone came tramping through the bushes. With an exaggerated look of alarm, Karen jerked the zipper to her throat. The footfalls grew louder.

Scott had time to turn away, crouch, and slip his razor into the satchel before Flash appeared downstream near the log bridge. The man was already dressed in his knit shirt, plaid shorts, and boots. His mussy fringe of red hair was the only clue that he'd just crawled out of his sleeping bag. He squatted by the stream and dipped an aluminum pot into the water.

"Morning!" Karen called.

He looked over and waved. "Tally-ho, mates!"

Scott grinned up at Karen. "Mates?" he asked.

"Nautical jargon," she said quietly.

"Ah. Afraid he was being a wise guy." Standing up, Scott yelled, "Ahoy and avast, are ye of a mind to weigh anchor?"

"Ain't had me coffee yet," Flash called back.

"Then we'll sail for Java." To Karen, he said, "Shall we be off?"

"Aye, matey."

"Meet you in the galley," Scott called.

They made their way back to camp. Julie, still in her warm-up suit, was feeding sticks to the fire. Nick's sleeping bag was empty, but he was nowhere to be seen. One of the twins was walking into the woods with a roll of toilet paper. Alice, bundled in her coat, was tearing open a plastic bag of powdered eggs with her teeth.

"Back in a jiff," Karen said, and headed for her tent.

In his own tent, Scott saw that Benny was still asleep. "Up and at 'em," he said, finding a foot through the down-filled bag and giving it a small shake. The boy raised his head and looked around, one eye covered by his red stocking cap. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah." Benny reached into the boot by his head, and pulled out his glasses. The lenses were fogged up. He tugged off his cap and put the glasses on anyway, then scrunched up his face as if that might help him to see better. "Where'd you go?"

"What?"

"I woke up and you weren't here."

"I've been up for a while," Scott told him.

"No, I mean last night."

Oh, Christ, he thought. He couldn't lie to his son, but how could he tell the truth? "I took a little walk," he said.

"See any coyotes?"

"Not a one. You better haul yourself out of there and get dressed. Breakfast'll be ready before you know it." Before Benny might be tempted to question him further, he backed out of the tent.

"Ahoy!" Flash said, walking by with a full pot of water.

"Avast," Scott said. "I'll get my stove going." He took his Primus stove from his pack and carried it over to the fire.

Julie was there, stretched out on her sleeping bag to squeeze the air out before attempting to mash it into its stuff bag.

"Have a good night?" he asked her.

"My feet froze, but aside from that…"

"Maybe wear an extra pair of socks." Hanging onto its key chain, he dangled the stove over the flame to heat the fuel. Thank God that Julie, at least, wasn't aware of his nighttime forays. The truth probably wouldn't upset Benny, but Julie… If Benny should mention his disappearance last night, she'd guess at once what he'd been up to. She might not throw a fit, but her resentment would surface and she would do her best to make everyone miserable. Probably even start sleeping in the tent just so it wouldn't happen again.

Should've just tented with Karen in the first place. Well, with the Gordons along they couldn't have done that anyway.

He swung the stove away from the campfire flames, and set it inside its aluminum holder.

"You got that sucker going yet?" Flash asked, coming up behind him.

"Stand back and get ready to duck."

Flash scraped the last of his scrambled eggs and bacon bits from the bottom of his dish. "Ah, that was good stuff. Want me to polish off yours for you?" he asked Rose.

"No."

"Aw, come on. It'll only weigh you down."

"Daddy!"

"Let her finish it," Alice said. "Have some Grape Nuts if you're still hungry."

"Bleah."

"It's good roughage."

"So is bark. Doesn't mean I want to eat a tree." He looked at the twins. "Everything out of your tent?" They nodded as they shoved forkfuls of egg into their mouths. "Let's get to it, Nick."

Nick, on the other side of the fire, took a sip of coffee, nodded, and stood up. They went over to the tent and started taking it down. They worked in silence, pulling the guy lines, Flash holding the front upright while Nick folded the rear forward, then easing the front backward. When the tent was flat, they removed the collapsible rods, pulled out the stakes along its sides, and folded it into thirds. Flash rolled it up with the rods inside. Nick held the plastic stuff bag open, and Rash shoved the tent into it.

They stepped over to the other tent, and began to repeat the process.