Faded Petal

Chapter 3 - Beth - The Campfire

DAY THREE

Today has been exhausting but so, so fun. The game of tag was my idea, which I'm pretty proud of. Me and George returned to the big tree after a long, tiring chase, and found Akiki and Charlie in the middle of some sort of argument, judging by the look on Charlie's face. But whatever that was, it has most definitely passed now.

Then there was the great lake. What a brilliant idea of Charlie's it was to turn that old rope into a swing! I don't think I've ever had so much fun in my life!

After leaving the lake, we found somewhere to settle down for the night. A small group of lonely trees stood in the middle of the endless field, looking lonely. So, we decided to keep them company for a while.

Charlie emptied his suitcase which was mainly full of dry wood, which he had collected during our journey through the forest today. Some pieces are smaller and thinner than my little finger, others as thick and solid as my arm.

Working swiftly as a team, we all help pile the wood into a triangular heap. Smallest sticks in the middle, larger logs on the outside, protecting them.

Once we have used up all the wood, George produces his trusty flint-and-steel from his pocket, and holds it low to the ground until it is almost touching the small wispy bits of wood. Then he strikes the steel against the flint with force. Sparks fly, and the fire is burning.

In a few minutes time the larger pieces have caught light too, and the fire is glowing nicely. We all take a seat around it in a circle. I sit next to Akiki, whose black eyes reflect the orange flicker of the fire. Next to her is Charlie, sprawled out on the ground like a starfish. Edith perches politely next to him, and finally George sits cross-legged to my left, staring into the flames.

The silence is loud, but comfortable. It is a cozy, warm silence that I find myself sinking into like a plump pillow.

"I will never get tired of campfires," Charlie remarks. George startles next to me, like he has been ripped away from his thought.

"Yeah?" Akiki prompts, her smile lighting up her rosy cheeks.

"I remember this one time," Charlie continues, "My father lit this gigantic bonfire in my grandmother's garden. It was taller than me to say the least. He chopped down a whole tree from the woods nearby just to build the kindling. Me, my mother and my grandmother are all sitting round the fire, when Father comes running from the house with my childhood bicycle and a big slab of wood. Then he props up the wooden slab with a boulder, facing directly into the fire, and gets on the bloody bike!"

I gasp at the same time as Akiki in mock horror. I can see where this story is going.

"So he's sat on my little bicycle- mind you, he's practically hanging off the end of it, he's so big! And he shouts, 'geronimo!' and starts peddaling towards his makeshift ramp and lightning speed! My mother gets up and starts shouting at him that he'll hurt himself, but it was too late. He hits the ramp and goes absolutely flying!"

Charlie starts laughing here, a genuine chesty laugh, and has to regain his breath before he can continue telling the story.

"The wheels skim the top of the flames, but he made it! He actually made it! But he did hit the ground quite hard, and the bicycle smashed into about a hundred pieces. My mother could never put it back together again, no matter how much she tried!"

"Like Humpty-Dumpty!" George chuckles.

"Yes, exactly like that! I wasn't even upset about the bicycle, either. Watching my father almost fly to the moon before crash landing on the other side of that roaring fire made it all worth it!"