As dusk came and went, and the stars began to show themselves one by one, Sam gazed into the sensual dance of the flames and felt the forest shadows dance around the perimeter of their dome of light. All the nocturnal spirits of the dark basin between Hockett Peak and the tail of the Great Western Divide seemed to gather around the fire. Sue got up and left the fireside, and she soon returned to stand alongside the flames. She held a hand out over the fire and rubbed her thumb and fingers together. Something appeared to sprinkle down into the flames.
Twin Lodgepole Pines (Tom Killion)
Sam asked, “What’s that?”
“Pixie dust.”
“Come on.”
“Ever heard of aromatherapy?”
“No.”
“Just some pleasant herbs. They smell nice. You’ll see.”
Sam could smell them in the fire-smoke immediately. It didn’t smell “nice.” The aroma smelled sharp and alien, but he didn’t put much stock in smells, so he ignored Sue’s aromatherapy and wondered how and where he might find Cindy the next day. He thought about how he’d behave differently; how much better he’d treat Cindy from now on.
Sue dropped pinches of something green and chunky into the flames.
Sam inhaled the aroma. He realized that it was good that he’d taken this time by the fire to think things through. He felt better now. He saw things with a fresh perspective, and it felt good. It felt really good. He coughed on the smoke. His eyes watered, and he knew that it was good.
It helped that Sue wasn’t around anymore; probably out in the woods gathering herbs or something.
As Sam came to terms with his feelings for Cindy, he felt that he could almost feel her; it felt to him as if she were here, there, out among the trees, looking into the smoky glow of the campfire.
And there she was, just at the edge of the dome of light, no mere shadow. She moved in and out of the darkness, like her face had flashed in the flames on that night of the fire. He saw flashes of Cindy’s dark brown curls and signature plaid sleeves. The shadows that played upon her body were darker than he would have expected. Hers was the body of a young woman, like Sue’s. Cindy had grown more than he’d realized.
Sam couldn’t sit so helplessly any longer. He had to reach out to her. He stood up and stepped blindly out of the firelight. He wandered out among the pines, feeling drowsy, and began to feel that she had vanished, when he felt her hand on the nape of his neck. Then her hand was latched on his collar, pulling him back. He saw the firelight fade as she led him deeper into the woods. His head felt heavy, and she laid him back against a berm. Her hands leaned heavily upon his biceps. He listened to her breathing, and now and then he felt her breath on his skin. He closed his eyes to hear and feel it more fully, and he turned his face to it, closer and closer until he could taste her lips. He felt the night air circulate against his chest as she unfastened his shirt. He felt her lips sampling his chest and belly, and he felt a draft cool his feet and his thighs. She continued to explore, following the drafts that cooled his skin, and he began to drift in and out of a dream. He saw the girl and her mirror, and he woke for a moment to find her above him, lightly panting, her conic breasts barely discernible in the dim forest light, and suddenly settling heavily upon him. He felt his fingers in her belt loops, under the blouse that had spilled out, and the loops hung loosely. He felt a hand upon his, pressing the loops away until he could no longer reach them. And he felt his hands grasping her and his body pressing against her. It seemed to act on its own, without his consent, and he suddenly felt himself diving into her sultry depths. He inhaled the flesh; he listened to the rhythm of the splashing, not knowing whether the sensations were his or hers. He fell into a dream of a dragon, or some fiery, winged creature, descending upon him, and he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.