Leave No Trace 5

There is This Moment

Stephen follows the blaze trail up the ridge toward the island. There might be ripe berries heralding the changing season. He is mushroom hunting too. Stephen is anything vegan hunting. Lech has taken a liking to the second bow. He is not one to hero worship, but Sten is a thing, so this past week he has been practicing constantly. The two boys are out hunting wabbits (eheheheh). There was a time Stephen would have been on Bugs Bunny’s side.

“Otter! Otterrrrr!” Some breathless crying and panting follows this. “Otterrrrr!” Stephen hears the hopelessness in the young voice. It is just distressed mumbling after this. Stephen pauses to pull the last mushroom off the rotting log, then hurries toward the sound.

A bedraggled David is casting about the forest with no idea where to turn. The boy’s cotton sweatshirt sags down over his bare legs. His runners are strung about his neck. Ott — Then David sees Stephen with his gathering bag. David points back to the lake. “Steve, you’ve got to help me. We have to go and get them. I need Otter. Where’s Otter? He can swim and get them.” David takes two steps back toward the water, then collapses into hysterical sobbing. “I couldn’t get to them, I,” then the ten-year-old is simply crying.

Stephen sits with David, arm over his shoulder. “Tell me when you’re ready, Davy.”

David sits on the deck beside the barbecue, Stephen’s sleeping bag is wrapped around his shoulders. Sten’s camp cup trembles as he lifts it to his lips. A plastic bottle of something-bits is where he can reach it. “Hey, David!” Lech chirps a greeting. David seems unaware. Stephen has been sitting with the shattered boy. “You pig! You ate my lunch,” Lech teases, “ow!” Stephen has punched his shoulder. The two boys follow Stephen to the table at the stern.

Stephen stretches his fingers, sort of jazz hands, here’s the thing, his body language says. “So, David, Ade, Cam and Devon figured they would come across. Davy says Ade chickened out. So anyway,” Stephen sighs, “they get the idea to come across on logs.”

“That would work.”

“So anyway, Cam and Devon are on one log, getting ahead of Davy. He’s, like, trying to catch up, when I guess Cam loses his grip. So there’s Cam and I guess Devon thought he could go get him. He lets go,” Stephen shrugs and looks at each of his friends. “Davy let go too, got scared, latched back on.”

“They could have made it to shore, got swept into the river here,” Lech suggests. The three boys look around, as if the missing brothers might be sitting together on a rock. Sten and Stephen exchange a look. “Gotta say, Scouting really sucks,” Lech finishes.

“You didn’t look?” Sten asks. Stephen shakes his head.

“I could go look,” Sten suggests.  

Stephen’s jazz-gesture is repeated.”You stay with David, Lech and I will look around.”

Sten sits beside David. He does not know what to say, so he just decides to be there, looking at the fire. “Otter, I —” David’s face contorts, and all that can comes through is tears and hysterical sobs. The sleeping bag falls away and David clutches on to Sten with the grip he used in the cold water as the brothers floundered away from him.

“I know, it sucks,” Sten tries quietly. He is embarrassed at the way David clings to him. He does not know why the boys keep relying on him. He does not have all the answers. Stephen is three times as smart as he is. All he can do is put an arm around David, talk quietly about what he has been doing since they parted, let the boy cling to him, as if Sten hasn’t screwed up everything since he walked away from Vili on the island.

“This is my fault,” Sten tells Stephen at the close of day. “I lit the fire on the beach. I swam over, so everybody thinks they can.”

“That’s not on you. Davy thinks Lech and I swam too. We didn’t tell anyone you were coming back for us.” Trust in the island camp was eroding. They had lost a lot since singing Baby Shark around the fire. There was nobody in your Den over on the island; only the separate tents.

Stephen has not worked this out completely, but the tent was private. The words and giggles from the tents, a guy catches bits and pieces in the night. You might find out what happened, you might not. Just stuff, you know, they’ll say, but you don’t. The tent is your whole world until it was time to get out. It was like in school, where you dropped a best friend till a classroom switch puts you back together in the following year.

“Have you ever known someone who died?” Sten asks, thoughts on his mother.

“Not till now. Not till Howard.”

“I could have maybe.”

“Done what, Sten? Done what?”

“I don’t know, but, but … I have to do something! Why did they try to come?”

Because, Stephen reasons to himself, they knew that somehow things would be better with you. His friend has not asked one question about the campsite on the island. Sten was not a tent mate, so he does not know about the initiations. “Don’t let the older boys get to you,” Howard warned them as they drove to meet the Scouts. “They will want to haze you in some way. You remember what you guys did to Bernie his first night camping last year?” Sten was not part of the initiation on the island; he does not know. Maybe that was why the boys needed to find Sten.

“Um, Sten,” Stephen points toward the shore. A black bear is snuffling around the rock Sten uses as a butcher block. As Stephen watches, the bear licks around.

“That’s Brother Bear,” Sten answers. The name is not particularly spiritual, it’s Berenstain Bears. “He’s sort of my neighbor.” The bear falls heavily in the river, paws about, and comes up with a sopping animal skin.

“You’re not supposed to feed them,” Stephen says. Sten seems so calm. This reassures Stephen. It is not that Sten has no frustrations, or moments of confusion, his blushes delight Stephen. But Sten can face a bear calmly, and that is very reassuring.

Brother Bear heaves out of the water. He pauses to look at the boys on the pontoon boat. Sten raises both his arms as if in greeting. The bear lumbers off, and Sten slowly lowers his arms. “He leaves me alone after I stopped cutting up animals on the boat. Gotta keep the fire going, especially in the morning and at night when he likes to come around. Brother Bear doesn’t like the smoke.” Sten watches the black bear cautiously. “I don’t know, Stephen, I think Lech has a point, Scouting sucks. That bear scares me.”

“We can’t just sit here,” Sten turns back to the fire where David and Lech kneel, playing Hand Slap together. Lech’s palms face up with David’s lightly over his. Lech slaps David’s fingers before he can pull them away. “We have to do something!” Sten repeats.

Lech looks at Sten, “Time to get her off the rocks. Davy is here, we can do it now.” None of the boys say what they think, it would have been even easier with the missing brothers.

“I’ll share a bag with Davy,” Sten decides as the boy’s eyes finally begin to droop. Stephen and Lech accept this as they would from Vili back on the island. David smiles gratefully, and Stephen understands.

“Tomorrow,” Lech says firmly.

“Tomorrow,” Sten agrees. The pontoon boat must come off the rocks.

There is this moment, while David and Lech are settling under the sleeping bags, that Stephen and Sten stand reluctant; telegraphing things they are too young to recognize. The north woods cold sends shivers through their bodies and they grin altogether. That breaks the spell and they scamper under the sleeping bags.

“You planning to yank on my dick tonight?” Lech teases Stephen once he is settled.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Stephen responds. Then he tickles Lech in the ribs. They start to giggle. Stephen’s attacks drive Lech from underneath the cover. The winner cocoons himself in his prize and fends off Lech’s efforts to burrow back in. The naked boy leaps on Stephen. David laughs weakly from beside Sten.

It is What It Is

“I think that’s enough, Joey. Ade knew enough to not go with them, that’s more important.” Vili is weary, light headed. Ade receives another blow because Joey is obstreperous. “Ronald, Mike, let go of Ade.” Once he is free, the Cub looks like he wants to hit someone. Vili calls Ade over, and the ritual of soothing bruised flesh follows. He has shown little interest in this ten-year-old. Ade has handled Famine Island better than the rest. He is easily mistaken for an older boy. That might have explained Vili’s disinterest.

Vili stands slowly, holding the Cub protectively against his body. “So you see what worries me so much. Now, when rescue is sure to come, and it will be very soon, you can count on that! When rescue comes, what am I going to tell Cam and Devon’s parents?” He pauses to let his diminished troop think about that. Denys is sitting by the fire, wrapped in his sleeping bag. As soon as Vili stood up, Bernie forced his way under Alistair’s sleeping bag so they could share it. They are a dispirited collection.

Joey has been glaring at each boy in turn. Ronald and Mike have sat together on a log. Mike coughs, “Ade saw David make it to the other side.” Joey’s eyes burn into Mike.

“And now he is wet, and cold, and starving,” Vili answers with exasperation. “If he has gone too far from the lake, he is lost,” Vili adds.

Joey considers the man. Possessive hands cannot stop moving about the Cub’s chest and face. “We’re starting a raft today, right now. You need to show us how to build a raft,” Joey insists.

Vili comes back from some distraction. “Yes, yes, Joey is right. We can’t leave David on his own.”

“And Otter, and the others.”

“Well, of course, we will look for those boys too. The hunting will be better over there. Fresh game,” Vili adds. Ade shivers violently under his palm. “You’re getting cold, I know. Alistair, Bernie, take Ade to our tent and help him warm up.”

Vili turns back to the other boys. “We will find a good log. I’ll help you pick one out, then I need to see how Ade is doing. I don’t think he is well.”

The twelve-year-olds are still sitting on their log. Vili tells them they should share a tent. “Fuck no,” Joey disagrees. “The guys are gonna share the tent with me.” Joey turns to Denys. He yanks the sleeping bag away from the boy. “You get everything out of those two tents; put their stuff in ours. When you get that done, get something started in the cooking pot. It’s fucking cold out here.”

Getting his way with the man feels good. Joey traces the line slanting down to his right pants pocket, then pinches himself. The Cub raises his eyes to Joey’s face. Denys gets up to do what he was told. Joey turns to the two remaining Scouts. The Cubs are such pussies. It is what it is, he is messaging this to the two Scouts on the log. Nobody has as much spunk as he does. Joey doesn’t mind showing it off.

They Should be Watch-and-Learn

The pontoon boat will not come off the rocks “tomorrow.” First efforts will not move it. Then autumn rain rolls in, clouds pressing down, the forest mosses sponge up the rivelets and air is thick with the scent of pine. The first puffs of steam accompany each exhalation. As the rain continues, the pontoon boat begins to move more on the rocks.

It’s miserable and the pontoon boat’s Bimini fails them. The boy’s shift the barbecue under cover and keep the fire stoked. After a second night, three boys head out with Sten’s hatchet to fashion some sort of wall. Anything to shield them from the rain. Sten hacks down saplings wherever he finds them. Through a long day they manage to fashion crude screens of pine bows, whatever they think will block the rain. Soaked to the skin, they strip and huddle about the fire David has tended. They gulp hot stew, taking turns with the spoon. Their wall helps and sleep comes in a tangle of four   under the two sleeping bags.

Next morning, the rain subsides to a relentless drizzle. David was spared the worst of the day before. He volunteers to fetch more wood. The three friends warm themselves around the fire while Stephen brews a berry tea concoction.

“It’s grounded at the front still. Mostly on the right side … If she comes off, she’ll get away from us and just get swept farther down the river … No, it’s tied off front and back … Will the ropes hold? … I don’t see why not. We need to move the rope up front; move it to the back.” The three boys nod agreement. “It’s going to still be too much for us … we have to try.”

Stephen and Lech look at Sten. Sten looks at Stephen. Stephen knows his friend thinks he will be the one to figure it out. He nods his head. “Okay, okay,” then he pauses to work it out. “We go in the water at the front. The right side is really stuck, but the left is almost free, right?” The two boys nod agreement. “So we use Sten’s bridge poles as levers. Two guys on the right, just one guy on the left.”

“There are four of us.”

“You have to take the helm, the motor can help pull us off,” Stephen tells Lech.

“You’re the captain,” Sten punches Lech on the shoulder. “I’ll be the one on the left.”

“You can’t be,” Stephen disagrees. “You're the strongest one. We need you on the right.”

Sten looks steadily at Stephen, “If it comes to that, yes. But I’m going to be the one on the left.” The boys know there is a better than even chance that the boy on the left will be swept away by the flood. “It’s settled, Stephen.”

“with a life vest on”

“for sure, all three of us,” Sten promises his friend. Stephen uses the kit cup to serve his boiling tea into three pudding cups.

“Is the outboard strong enough to get us out into the lake?” Sten asks Lech. It is too comfortable sitting by their cheerful fire. Nobody wants to get up and look at the swell they have to climb.

Lech shakes his head, “I donno.” A sip of scalding tea in a flimsy cup.

“We play leapfrog,” Stephen suggests. Keep the pontoon boat tied to a tree, use the second rope and motor to haul it along the bank. Tie that off and repeat.

“She might just do it on her own,” Lech points out. “When I can, I will run her around to the lake shore and meet you guys there.”

“When do we do it? … When David comes back … The river is still rising … I know. If we wait too long, it might be bad in the water … If we wait too long, it is going to start to snow.” They all look grim.

Picture it; two ten-year-olds and one year older, standing naked except for their grippy shoes and bright life vests. Another ten-year-old is scared that he will do the wrong thing with the pontoon boat and these friends will die. Death is very real to them. They should be watch-and-learn while their dad’s fix this mess. Four kids with nobody to turn to.

Sten drops into the water on the right side first. The poles are passed to him, then Stephen and David follow. The twenty-four foot boat felt so small on the crowded trip out, now they are standing at the twin prows with their flimsy pine poles. The rocks are slick. There is the danger of twisting an ankle. A step or two to the left and Sten will be swept away. They struggle to find points to pry the aluminum tubes free. It is exhausting. They would have welcomed the help of all Scouts. The thought is all three minds, There is no way we are going to move this.

It is hard for Lech. He has to be careful with the motor. This effort is pointless if he breaks it on the rocks. He plays the throttle and the roar of the outboard begins competing with the river rush. Stephen and David strain to pull their poles back. The boat shifts suddenly, then it surges toward the boys floundering in the water. Lech guns the motor and the boat regains lost headway. He races to the stern and hauls in line, securing the boat farther off the rocks, then he idles the laboring outboard.

When the boat surged back upon them, Stephen lost his balance on the rocks. David grabbed him, “Gotcha.” They move forward toward the boat. A glance shows Sten is still with them, leaning into the current, too close to being swept off his feet.

Lech appears over the railing. Lech shouts above the roar, “I think we’ve got it. She’s gonna start bucking like a wild bronc. Leapfrog time, I need help holding her off the rocks. Someone in the trees.”

“I suck at knots!” David yells back.

“You don’t have to tie it,” Stephen tells him, “Just wrap the rope two times and hold on.”

“No, we need both ropes, two people. You know what to do, Stephen. You go with him.”

“No!” Stephen almost wails at Sten. The rushing water draws the heat right from their small bodies. It’s so exhausting.

“The boat is almost off the rocks. We’ve done it Steve. Let’s finish this. You guys go before we freeze to death.” Reluctantly, they leave Sten in the water.

With the next effort, the left side seems to be free. David holds the fixed line while Stephen negotiates trees and the slippery shore with the loose rope. He makes it farther down the bank and whips the rope end around another tree. Numb beyond description, shaking uncontrollably, Sten picks his way over the rocks to the right pontoon. It is also floating, although he hears a scraping noise each time the boat shifts further to the right.

The danger now is that the river wants to push the boat onto the shore. Sten decides to plant his pole against the rocks along the side and see if he can hold the boat from drifting. Lech can see him now from the helm. He grins at Sten, and then the pontoon boat begins to move. Sten is just a boy. The pole slams into his head and he falls back in the water. The life vest keeps him on the surface, but there is blood, and the river starts taking him away. Lech does not wait to see if the boat is secure. He drops over the side to rescue Sten.

Sten wakes up beside the fire. Stephen and David flanking his sides, lending his weakened body necessary energy. “I want a Teenburger with large fries and a Rootbeer. You know, sloppy, with a ring of soda left on the table, lots of salt on the fries,” Sten announces.

“I’m going to bop you on the head again if you say another word,” Lech’s face blocks Sten’s view of the Bimini.

“You can take me out to try one,” Stephen adds. Sten knows Stephen’s mother is pretty adamant about the meat thing.

“The salt is so good,” Sten assures him. Lech’s fingers find Sten’s throat and he pretends to throttle the older boy. Suddenly, Lech turns away and buries his face between his knees.

“You scared us,” Stephen explains. David and Stephen exchange memories across Sten’s body.

“Go slow, you really got clobbered … cracked your noggin … might want one of the pills in your first aid kit … Steve sewed you up, I held the skin together.” Sten touches his forehead, feels the thread. The pounding pain introduces itself. “You’re gonna look like Frankenstein… Don’t bug him, Dave! … just sayin, Steve.”

“So, where are we at?” Sten asks.

Stephen stops him from sitting up, then decides it might be a good idea after all. “Lech got us sorted out!” David explains proudly. After the three boys pulled Sten from the water, they used the shore lines to swing the pontoon boat around. It is now pointing toward the opening to the lake. The outboard motor can do its job now. The rain is still coming down, but now their hard work throwing up a flimsy wall is on the wrong side.

“Thanks guys,” Sten glances at each of them, “Lech, thanks.”

Lech simply nods his head. His eyes go back down on his forearm. It means a lot to hear Sten say that. It is not like everyone knew Sten’s voice mattered before the camping trip. It started mattering when Sten was not willing to go to Vili’s tent. It took a while for Stephen and Lech to agree that Sten was right. Or maybe find the courage to go out on their own. Sten was the fire on the shore that woke them up. Lech wonders what it would be like if they were all in the same school.

“Are we set to drag this thing out of the river?” Sten asks. He tries to stand. It has to be done, so he will do it. “No way, Dude … We need a rest … Yeah, while you were lazing about, we were working … and now we need a rest … some food … yeah, food, like a burger and fries … cheese pizza! … shut up … you shut up … what do we have to eat, besides dry meat? … roadkill or roadkill … yum! Roadkill!”

Sten lets the three boys organize food while he plays with the fire. They are talked out, muscle strained and bruised. By some unspoken understanding, the three boys put Sten in the middle of their bed. Stephen was their rock while Sten lay like the dead. He just took the unfamiliar needle and calmly sewed the gash in Sten’s forehead. Now the ten-year-old is huddled up to Sten. There is reassurance in the rise and fall of the older boy’s chest. Stephen shifts his hand down below Sten’s flat stomach. The boys flanking them listen to Sten’s shifting breath.

They are all charged by the brotherhood of their common struggle. They battled the pontoon boat and the river with their inadequate muscles. They won through with quick wits and quick bodies. David shifts his arm to support his head. He watches the way the eleven-year-old’s lips part and his eyelids flutter. David puts a hand on Sten’s hot thigh, reassuring himself. Lech on the other side is tight against Stephen. He feels the movement, hears the soft noises. Lech’s mind is open to Stephen’s curiosity. Lech likes pressing into the comforting length of Stephen, even though his own curiosity with male bodies has been quenched. Lech is listening to the patter of the rain and the immensity of the river he must battle in the morning. None of the boys can sleep until the day’s struggle is consummated by Sten’s life affirming gasps.