The Princess and the Plague (Life after Camp Kumoni) By Anistasia Allread Edited by Nick B You know what my Uncle Will would have said?” “No.” “Every adventure starts with your first step and a whistle on your lips.”

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Eric lay in bed. It was still early, especially after the long night he had spent with Tricia. He heaved himself to a sitting position and smoothed out the wrinkles in his nightgown.

He padded into his bathroom, stepped out of the long nightwear and emptied his bladder before slipping into some sweatpants. He didn’t want his dad to suddenly appear in the bedroom unannounced and see him in the soft, floral material of the gown. He lay back in bed and curled up with a pillow.

Tricia had kissed him–well, Erika. She had kissed Erika before, but it had always been a small loving kiss, not the passionate, lingering kiss she had planted on her last night, practically in front of the whole school. It wasn’t just one kiss either. Tricia’s lips kept finding ways of touching hers. Julian and Stan were a bit surprised at first–probably just as surprised as Erika had been. After the fourth excuse for a kiss, Erika could see their body language relax a bit more.

Eric liked Tricia–liked her a whole lot. His body was thrilled that she was as interested in him as he was in her. He just wasn’t sure about letting the whole school know that Erika and Tricia were an ‘item’. Tricia hadn’t groped Erika or been munching on her face all night, just a few kisses here and there. Erika felt almost as if Tricia was marking her territory. Julian was a good-looking guy, after all.

Girls around them in the stands looked two or three times, but then seemed to take it as natural as well. There were a few gay students in school, but as far as Eric knew they had not gone out with one another, other than as friends.

Seeing two girls kissing was probably a novelty, but one that hopefully will be accepted. No one had called them dykes, or lesbians during or after the game. Julian still spoke to them and Stan tried to explain the game of football to Erika so that she could understand exactly what she would be cheering for.

The Warthogs ended up winning the game 31 to 10. Tricia and Erika said goodbye to Julian and Stan and walked hand in hand to Tricia’s house.

Tricia pulled Erika off to the side of the drive into the shadows away from the streetlights. Erika felt Tricia’s hands lightly take her face and guide it to her waiting lips. Erika wrapped Tricia’s tiny waist in her arms and pulled the blonde closer taking control. Her tongue sought entry, which Tricia was more than willing to receive. The blonde tasted sweet, warm and delicious. One of Erika’s hands drifted down and cupped the blonde’s beautifully shaped butt. She gave it a gentle squeeze then pulled her hips to her own, causing Tricia’s tongue to respond more forcefully.

Tricia pushed away after a while to catch her breath, “You are a tease,” she accused.

“A tease, what do you mean?” Erika asked.

“You have been looking so hot all night. Every guy at that game as well as some of the girls had their eyes on you,” Tricia explained. “Julian was practically drooling all over you.”

“He was not,” Erika shook her head. “He was just being nice.”

“Oh, he was so. Why else do you think I began kissing you?” Tricia asked. “I had to let him and everyone else know that you were mine.” Her eyes flashed emphasizing that last word.

“So, I am ‘yours’ now?” A thrill fluttered her heart.

“I was hoping you would be mine,” she responded, a little more timidly.

Erika kissed Tricia again. “I am yours if you will have me.”

Tricia kissed her back.

Once in Tricia’s room, Erika disappeared into the bathroom and took a shower, scrubbing makeup from her face.

Tricia was waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom. She leaned into him and tousled his hair then kissed him again.

“You’ll even take me as Eric?” he asked.

Tricia looked into his eyes, “I love you. It doesn’t matter which ‘you’, you are presenting.”

“It doesn’t?”

“I think Erika is prettier,” Tricia admitted. “She looked so hot in that skirt with those boots tonight.”

“What about now?” Eric asked.

Tricia smiled. “It’s still you, just a scruffier, less refined you.”

Eric kissed her, savoring her soft lips. “Well, the prettier me has to go see a shrink tomorrow.”

“How is it going with your psychologist?” Tricia asked.

“I don’t know, as well as can be expected, I guess,”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know, we’ll see. I’ve only seen her a couple of times.”

“Leeza said that the right psychologist can make a huge difference.”

“I’m not sure yet about Dr. Farts.”

“Her name is Dr. Farts?” Tricia suppressed a giggle.

“Her name is Dr. Barts, I just call her Dr. Farts.”

“Why?”

“Mostly to irritate my mom,” Eric shrugged. He placed his gaffe, forms, and bra into his duffle, “Now, what to wear?”

“You’re going as Erika?”

“Dr. Farts asked to meet me as her.”

“So… something casual but nice.” Tricia went to the closet.

“Jeans and a nice top?” Erika suggested.

“Uh-uh,” Tricia shook her head, “Nice. Jeans are every day.”

“So, something like the blue dress at camp?”

“That’s too nice.” She perused the clothes. “Aha! Here you go.” She pulled on a hanger, “You can wear this with it.”

“How about nylons?” Eric was hopeful.

“Not with something this casual. You can wear either your strappy sandals or these flats will work.”

Eric took the outfit and folded it neatly in his duffle.

“Don’t forget your makeup,” Tricia reminded. “And don’t overdo it.”

“Lip gloss?”

Tricia nodded.

Eric tossed the strap of his duffle over his shoulder and followed Tricia downstairs. Leeza was kind enough to drive him home and he sat in the back seat with Tricia, holding hands while looking deeply into one another’s eyes.

–o0o–

Eric heard his father take the stairs down to the kitchen. He decided, he may as well get some breakfast too.

“Morning, Eric,” his father greeted.

“Morning, dad.”

“I thought we’d eat a quick breakfast and then go hit some balls,” Mr. Martin smiled.

“Dad, I don’t like golf,” Eric reminded.

“I was thinking the batting cages.” His dad poured himself some coffee. He looked up to Eric and held the pot up. “Want some?”

“Sure,” Eric nodded.

“Eggos or toast?” his dad offered.

“Let’s splurge and have Eggos,” Eric suggested dripping with sarcasm. He took a sip of the offered brew, “Did mom tell you that I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon?”

“Yep. We’ll be back in plenty of time. I also have tee time an hour before your appointment. So, we’ll have to be back before then.”

Eric inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. With his dad’s tee time an hour before the appointment, he’d have at least an hour to get changed.

“So, why the batting cages?” Eric pressed.

“Some guy time,” his dad replied, “I haven’t seen you all summer, and the last couple of weeks have been a real stress for me at work. This way we can blow off some steam.”

The two finished their breakfast in uneasy silence.

“See you down here in about fifteen minutes.” Eric’s dad smiled.

Eric trudged upstairs to his room and climbed into his jeans and a T-shirt before brushing his teeth. He pulled his hair back loosely and put a cap on. He looked into the mirror and was tempted to put some mascara on, but the fountain incident was too fresh still. He met his dad downstairs and followed him out to the truck.

Mr. Martin pulled out of the drive and headed down to the main road.

“Dad, what is the real reason for this?” Eric asked suspicious.

“What do you mean?”

“Dad, we hardly ever have ‘guy time’.”

“I know,” he sighed, “My dad wasn’t around much when I was growing up, the only ‘guy time’ I had was with my Uncle Will,” he paused, “I miss my Uncle Will, I wish you could have met him.”

“He’s your favorite Uncle who died, right?” Eric questioned.

There was a pause, “Yes, he died before you were born.”

“Dad?”

Mr. Martin sighed, “Okay, okay, I know that this is transparent, but I haven’t been around a lot because of this huge work project, and now I’m feeling guilty.”

“It’s okay dad, really. We don’t have to do this.”

“But I’d like to spend some time with you.” His father looked away from the road and made eye contact with Eric.

Eric didn’t know what to say. It had been a long time since his dad had had time to spend with him. He smiled to himself.

There was that one failed fishing trip when he was about ten…

His dad decided that they needed to have some ‘guy time’ and took him on a fishing trip. They packed up the truck, with a tent, sleeping bags, rods and tackle on a Thursday night. Friday, they drove up to the lake. His dad rented a small aluminum boat and they loaded all of their gear into it. A storm had decided to move in on them and by the time they were halfway across the lake, they were drenched to the skin.

They found a secluded camping spot and unloaded the boat, putting the already wet stuff under a fir tree.

“Mother Fu–duge!” his dad swore.

“What?”

“I forgot the… flippin’ tent poles.” His was trying to watch his cussing, “Well, we’ll just have to make a lean to out of it. Why don’t you go try and find us some fire wood?”

Eric went off into the trees looking for wood that might still be dry after the deluge. He didn’t have much luck and came back to camp in the dark with only one arm load. His dad had the tent draped over a couple of branches of a tree to act as a sort of roof.

“There isn’t any dry wood out there, dad.” Eric complained.

“We’ll just have to make do.” He took the wood and arranged it in a tepee formation. He dug around and found some matches, but the paper and fire starter that they had with them had gotten wet and wouldn’t catch. He used up most of his matches before giving up.

“I guess we’re roughing it tonight,” he sighed. “You hungry?”

Eric nodded.

“I think the cracker box is wet, but they should be dry. You should curl up in the sleeping bag and start getting warm.”

Eric found the soggy cracker box and pulled the unopened plastic bag out. He curled up in his sleeping bag next to the tree and silently ate his crackers.

The forest around them was quiet, even the crickets were silent, preferring to wait out the rain for a better night. The only sounds he could make out were the rain splattering into the lake and on the rocks along its shore. Before long, his dad came up and wiggled into his bag. Eric handed the crackers over to his dad who accepted them without word.

Eric didn’t sleep well that night. His wet clothes and the sleeping bag seemed to do nothing against the cold ground, leaching the warmth from his body. He tossed and turned, waking with chattering teeth every time he tried to get into a more comfortable position.

Morning came way too early. Eric was thankful for the light, but without adequate sleep, he was cranky and exhausted.

“Well, we have light, let’s go out on the lake and see if we can catch some fish, then we’ll go back across the lake to the lodge and get some dry fire starters and see if they have a tent we can rent.” Mr. Martin suggested.

“Can we go to the lodge first?” Eric asked, “I’m freezing.”

“Sure.”

Eric wiggled out of his bag and wrapped the warm part around him and headed down to the water.

“Dad?” Eric called.

“Yes?”

“Where’s our boat?”

“It’s tied up next to the lake…” his dad emerged from the forest to an empty lake shore, “It was right here.” His dad swore, pointing to a dead log, “This log has moved. Did you come down here last night?” he asked Eric.

“No, Dad. I was in the woods trying to find dry wood.”

“Oh shit!” hid dad swore.

“What?”

“Look at your feet.”

Eric did and his shoes were properly tied. He looked up at his dad confused.

His dad pointed. “Those tracks in the sand are bear prints.”

Eric’s heart jumped as he scanned the woods for a sign of bear.

“I’ll bet the bear rolled the log over looking for food, dislodging the rope to the boat.” Mr. Martin looked out into the lake looking for a metal boat, finding nothing but water and gray clouds that threatened to dump on them some more.

Eric looked up and down the lake shore looking for the boat. “Dad, what are we going to do? I don’t see our boat.”

“Let’s go back and grab our stuff and start walking down the shore. We’ll probably come across the boat in an inlet or something.”

Mr. Martin wrapped an arm around Eric’s neck and started back to their makeshift camp.

“Freeze!” his dad whispered sharply.

Eric froze and looked up from the ground. A bear was in their camp, poking its nose into their food, using its massive claws to hold and tear into packages.

“Slowly back away. If it chases, jump into the lake and swim hard and fast.” His dad instructed.

The two slowly backed away putting several trees between them and the bear.

“Now, let’s run down the shore,” his dad said turning. The two ran down the sandy lake shore, dodging large boulders that sporadically dotted its edge. Once they were a ways away, Mr. Martin slowed down to a walk, “That was scary,” he confessed.

“Now, what are we going to do?” Eric asked.

“It looks like we walk back to the lodge.”

“That will take days.” Eric complained.

“If we start now, we should be there around dinner time.”

Eric groaned.

“We may even come across our boat along the way, or we might meet another camper and see if they can take us across the lake to the lodge.” His dad tried to sound hopeful, “You know what my Uncle Will would have said?”

“No.”

“Every adventure starts with your first step and a whistle on your lips.” He smiled. Eric’s dad puckered his lips and started whistling a familiar tune as they walked along the lake shore, skirting rocks and jumping over logs.

–o0o–

Eric’s legs were numb as he trudged up to the steps entering the lodge. He stopped at their base, not knowing if he had enough strength to lift them, but the promise of dry warmth and food was overpowering.

The night sky had darkened a while ago and only the occasional glimmer of light from the lodge kept them moving forward.

Eric stumbled after his father into the lodge and sat heavily onto a fireplace hearth that was warm from a large crackling fire.

Eric was barely aware of the conversation his dad had with the lodge keeper. The only thing he heard was warm bed, and hot food. Those of course were the only four words he cared about at the moment.

His dad scooped him up off the hearth and carried him up a flight of stairs to a room.

They both undressed and took turns in a hot shower. The warmth helped to revitalize him a little, but then his stomach began to gnaw at itself. When he entered the bedroom, he was greeted by a large tray of food. Eric fell on the hamburger devouring it in a handful of bites. He was halfway done with his fries when he saw his dad watching him.

“I’m sorry, Eric,” he apologized.

“It’s okay dad. You couldn’t have controlled a bear.”

Bed had never felt so wonderful. His brain had switched off before his head had hit the pillow.

Eric woke the following morning to a knock on the door. He wrapped a towel around his waist and peeked through the crack.

“Here’s your clothes.” A woman smiled. “Washed and dried.”

“Thank you.” Eric accepted the bundle and nudged the door closed with a foot.

He and his dad tucked into eggs, ham, pancakes and home fried potatoes, not those cheap ground up frozen potatoes, but thick-cut, baked and fried spuds.

“You know, if you had gone the other way up the lake shore, you’d have come to one of the logging access roads.” The woman told them, “One of the weekend loggers would have given you a lift.”

Eric’s dad swallowed hard, “How far up the lake?”

“Only a mile or two.” She refilled Eric’s juice.

Eric heard his father groan.

Not much could be salvaged from their camp site. Eric and his dad pulled the broken bits of fishing poles and torn sleeping bags out of the ranger’s boat and dumped them into the back of the truck.

“We aren’t telling your mother about this,” his dad said firmly.

“She’ll ask about the fish.”

“I’ll come up with a cover story.”

Later that day, Eric found himself behind a fish market, holding a string of trout up for his dad to take a picture of him with ‘his catch’.

His mother ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over the great catch that her son had taken in as she fried the trout.

–o0o–

“What are you thinking about?” his dad asked as he pulled into the parking lot.

“About our fishing trip.”

Eric’s dad groaned loudly then looked at his son. “You haven’t told your mother about that have you?”

Eric shook his head, “No way.” The two looked at each other and began laughing.

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To be continued…