Southwest

“Maybe this was a little too much adventure,” Brooklyn thought as she emptied her canteen into her mouth and licked her dried lips.

She followed the trail for at least an hour, pausing every now and then to double-check her map, but still didn’t seem to be getting any closer to the green area marked. If anything, she could have sworn that she’d walked up and down the same hill at least three times. Her legs were stiff and her shoulders ached from carrying her backpack. She took off the pack and sat down on a boulder to consult her map and munch on a granola bar.

She took off her boots and socks, letting her feet breathe and dry while she rested to avoid getting blisters. She rubbed her toes and rubbed her calves. After the stiffness left her legs, she brought out her snack and map.

Brooklyn’s eyes strained as she tried to plot out how far she had hiked and how long she needed to go before she reached the meadow or orchard or whatever it was. If she had to estimate, she should have reached it at least 20 minutes ago at her pace. She looked ahead and saw only the same stretch of pines along the trail that she’d been following. She sighed and wiped the sweat away from her face and rubbed her neck.

She’d been blessed with a darker complexion thanks to her Vietnamese mother. Very rarely did she burn in the sun but since she first started from the fork in the trail, it had only grown brighter and hotter out. Her tank-top was heavy with sweat and she tugged at it to let her skin breath. Her long hike had her dazed and she closed her eyes to collect herself. The cold burst of air was refreshing. It would be idiotic to go on with no water in this heat, she decided. She wasn’t ready to get heat stroke over some miscalculated attempt at discovery. She could imagine walking through the meadow, looking at all the flowers in bloom, the bees buzzing and working, going in and out of them like children playing. Or a nice shaded meadow where she could rest, maybe even be lucky enough to pluck some fresh fruit. No matter though. Soon she would be back at her apartment experiencing life and nature through books and tests.

The fresh breeze wafted over her uncovered skin. She brought her fingers to the hem of her shirt and pulled up, letting the air hit her back and pulsing stomach. She stretched out her legs and raised her shirt a little more, just barely exposing the edge of her grey sports bra. She let her mind wander. She listened to the swaying of the trees, the hum of the insects. She could smell the dense, sappy pine carried in the humid air, tinged with the sweet scent of her sweat. Her tank-top and sports bra suddenly felt irritating and stifling. She thought of tribes of old, before cars, compasses and universities. She pictured them, men and women, wandering stark naked along this very path. Beads of sweat running down their muscled, perfect bodies. They would wander through the forest uninhibited by contrived formalities. She saw them making love in the blossoming meadows of summer and bathing with each other in crystal rivers and lakes.

Suddenly, she saw herself standing among them. They were in a stream washing and splashing and laughing. She stood by the edge of the brook and stared, enraptured by their spirit of freedom. She also found certain aspects of the males among to hold her attention. She felt the breeze tickle her back and thighs. She felt wet, sandy earth at her feet. She looked down and saw that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing!

“Nah!” came from her throat.

All went silent except for the bubbling of the brook as everyone turned to look at the distressed naked girl on the water’s edge. Her hands went wild across her body, desperately searching for the clothes that had been there. Her breasts bounced along with her wild movements. They filled her hands as she cupped them to keep them from being seen. The silent stares from the bathers made Brooklyn’s face burn and, to her dismay, she felt her nipples harden against her palms. On impulse, she let both hands shoot down her flat stomach and to her crotch. She felt the tiny tuft of hair there and looked from person to person. Each one was as naked as her, but perfectly content if not somewhat entertained.

Brooklyn wanted to run. She wanted to scream. Her cheeks were on fire and her legs trembled. She cupped her crotch more tightly and a violent spasm rocked her through her pelvis and pulsed out to her thighs. Apparently, she found the males more than a little interesting. Every single set of eyes there had seen what she’d done and how she reacted. They just stared.

Not knowing what else to do, Brooklyn brought her arms up and hugged herself, squeezing her breasts tightly. Then she lowered herself to a crouch and turned away from them. Behind her she heard nothing but the brook but could feel the looks of every one of them. She could have joined them, splashed and laughed and relished in natural nakedness. But here she was, shivering and mortified. Time went on but still the bathers said nothing. They just stared…

Thunder ripped through the sky. Brooklyn’s eyes shot open and went skyward. Clear summer blue was now black with clouds promising a heavy shower. Brooklyn couldn’t believe that she could have been out of it so long to not notice a storm on the horizon. She chastised herself for working herself up like she did. Now she was stuck on the side of a mountain with a summer storm moments away.

Another clap of thunder rocked the mountainside and rumbled through Brooklyn’s body. A heavy rain followed, soaking through Brooklyn’s clothes and covering her gear. Her map melted away in the pelting rain. A flash of lighting followed, striking just on the other side of the mountain. Brooklyn drew a deep breath. She was in serious trouble. The boulder she was on was in a clearing. If she stayed where she was, there was a chance that she’d be turning into a human lightning rod. But if she ran where could she run to? She was miles away from her jeep. Back to the fork? Continue up the path maybe and hope to find a ranger station? A flash of lightning lit up the whole mountain and Brooklyn moved without thinking…