Outlasts

TUESDAY - 20

They leave the dogs to sleep off their full bellies.

Louis sends a silent prayer to his mom to heal Blue overnight.

When they enter the cabin again, the wall of heat hits him. That combined with the smell of chicken noodle soup, and he almost falls over.

"Wow, we're going to be warm tonight!"

He sheds his outer clothes, and hang them to finish drying along with the dog coats and harnesses. Steam already leaks from the harnesses, giving off a bouquet of wet dog.

"So what does a dog bootie look like?"

Harry asks, tightening his clothesline.

"It's like a little fleece sock that fits over their foot. Not too big that it would bunch up on them, but wide enough that lets their toes splay out when they run. They stay on by attaching a piece of Velcro on the top to cinch on their leg."

Louis uses his hand to show Harry what he means, not really believing he'll be able to make anything that Prancer can use.

Then he pours soup into both bowls on the table.

"I hope the owner doesn't mind us borrowing all this stuff."

Harry sits, pulling up his oversized pants.

Louis ignores the spoon and grab the warm bowl with both hands.

Just holding the bowl is heaven. He slurps loudly, and actually feels the soup travel the whole journey down.

"Its bush law," Louis says around a mouthful of noodles. "If anyone's in trouble out here, you use what you need, then replace it later."

The hot golden liquid gushes sensually around in his empty belly.

Harry puts down his spoon and copies Louis with his own bowl.

"Aaah," he says with feeling, then gulps another mouthful before putting the bowl down and waving his hand over it to cool it.

"What we really need is a snowmobile. Too bad he didn't leave one of those laying around."

"I think that's the last thing you need. Where did you learn to drive anyway?"

"Well, I've never actually been on one before."

"Shocking." Louis gulps another mouthful and closes his eyes briefly.

"So no snowmobiling in Manchester, and not much snow. Sounds pretty boring."

"It's not! And I didn't spend all my time at the mall, as you seem to think."

Louis drops four cubes of sugar into his mug with a tea bag. The coffee creamer packets look a little suspicious with some sort of mold growing on their corners, so he passes on those. He reaches for the kettle on the stove that Harry had filled as well, and pours the hot water into his hands mug.

"That's good because you'd be disappointed with our sad excuse for a mall. It's really just a row of stores. There's Wicker's feed store, the grocery store, the post office and trading post, the coffee shop, and the pool hall. The pool hall actually burned down. Twice. But half the kids in my class hang there anyway."

"Not you?"

"No. I . . . I don't really have time to hang out."

"Huh. Shocking,"

Harry repeats, and then slurps more soup. He reaches for the tin of crackers, and adds half its contents to his bowl, creating a mound of crumbs escaping back onto the table. He gives Louis a big satisfied smile as he pats his stomach.

"So where did you spend all your time?"

Louis grabs a handful of crackers and stuffs them into his mouth. The crunch and salt of them fills me with reverence for Mr. Saltine.

"I just hung out, you know, over at the Trap and Skeet club. It's next to the snare wire depot."

"Do you even know what 'skeet' means?"

Harry laughs.

"Okay. I told you, I swim. Competitively. I used to practically live at the pool. Practiced twice a day prepping for the big meets."

"So, you're good?"

"I'm better than good. My relay team wasn't too happy with me moving. No one can touch my fly."

Louis giggles.

"Humble much?"

"I'm just saying."

Harry puffs out his chest.

"So you're going to have the best teacher when we start your lessons. I cannot wait to start showing you something that I can do, finally."

Louis then let's out a big laugh, spraying crumbs all over the table as he tries not to
choke on the crackers.

Harry laughs along and swipes the crumbs off the table, while staring at Louis again with a fond look.

"You're laugh is cute, Lou."

Louis actually chokes on the crackers.

He coughs up what he can and pounds his chest before taking a swig of tea.

He clears his throat and dares a glance at Harry, who is still looking at him as if he's the best thing to ever exist.

It's weird.

"Um... Thanks. Yours is pretty funny too."

Harry smiles at him and continues shoveling soup into his mouth.

And it's Louis' turn to look at him with fond eyes.

"Yeah, that swimming thing is still not happening."

"What? Why? You're afraid of what might happen when you see me in a Speedo, aren't you?"

Louis playfully curls his lip at him.

"Gross! I'll be running the other way is what will happen."

Feeling his neck heat up again, he downs his soup and rises in one quick motion so Harry doesn't have any more satisfaction of watching Louis blush.

Louis brings his empty dish to the sink, gulping the rest of the tea, and gags on something.

When he checks the bottom of his mug, he sees what looks like a clump of hair.

"What the..."

"What?"

Harry asks.

Louis strides back to the kettle on the stove and opens the lid. He sloshes the water around and peers into the dark depths.

There's something in there.

When he dumps the contents into the sink, his stomach heaves.

Lying in the sink is a very dead, bald mouse.

Louis clutches his belly and whirls around.

"Didn't you check the kettle before you filled it?"

"Uh, check it for what?"

Harry peers into his own half-finished tea.

Louis shrugs, looking pointedly at the sink. Watching his face as he figures it out is almost worth the imagined grit in the back of Louis' throat.

Harry gags.