Fallen

Chapter Twelve

~12~

            We spend the rest of the night talking about whatever comes to our mind. It feels good to talk without worrying about someone else listening in. When the sun starts to rise I get up from the log and wipe the dirt off the back of my pants.

            I turn to him, “Well, I guess I better get going. Thanks again for the food and the hospitality. Maybe we’ll meet up again sometime.” I hate to say goodbye even though we just met. I turn and start to leave, but I’m stopped.

            I hear Alex jump up and race after me. “You can’t go,” he says, “Listen. We are both going after the same thing, so why don’t we, I don’t know, like team up. You could stay here. With me.” He smiles.

            “Okay, I like that idea. But where will I sleep?”

            “The tent; I have a spare one around here somewhere.”

            I take my bag off my back and hold it in my hands, “Sounds like a deal.” I reach in a pull out two apples; I hand one to him. “Here, take it. Just consider it as a thank you gift for the hot dog.”

            He takes it in his hand and takes a big bite out of it. “Thanks. I usually don’t take food from strangers, but you’re lucky; I’m really hungry.”

            I laugh and nibble on my apple. When I go to zip up the bag, he stops me, “Wait, what are those books in there?”

            I sit down on the ground and pull them out, “There’s a poem book, a book of paintings and pictures, and a book about sign language.” I stand up with the bag on my back and the three books in my right arm.

            He has a puzzled facial expression that almost makes me laugh, “Sign language?”

            I explain to him all about the people long ago that lost their hearing, “You can read it for yourself if you want. You can learn how to do it, too; it’s kind of fun.” I sign Daisy is a very pretty dog to him.

            He laughs, “Hand me that book! I want to know what you just told me!”I hand it to him and he immediately starts flipping through it. He looks frustrated and heads back over to the log, the apple in his left hand and the book in his right.

            Daisy is panting at my feet so I kneel down to pet her. She licks my hand as if saying thank you for what I signed to Alex. I smile at her, “You are so very welcome.”

            I hear Alex call me, “Rose, can you come here.” I walk over to where he sits on the log and stand between him and the fire, which has been going all night. “Will you sign that once again? Please?”

            I do. It makes him smile, “I knew it! Somewhere in there you said pretty. Did you call me pretty?” He bats his eyelashes and flips his blonde bangs out of his eyes.

            I shake my head, “Nope! But you’re close.” I sit on the log next to him and take the painting book out my bag. Then, I lay my bag behind me so it leans against the wood.

            He snaps his fingers, “Dang it. But you wait, give me just a few more minutes and I’ll get it right.”

            “Okay, deal.” I lay the book in my lap and flip right to my favorite painting titled “Mona Lisa”. I am in awe every time I see it because it is so realistic. My mom was a very talented artist but she was never able to paint people; they never looked real. I must stare at it longer than I realize because Alex pipes up and breaks my train of thought.

            “I got it! You said Daisy is a pretty dog,” he smiles, obviously proud of himself.

            “Good try,” I say, “but I actually signed Daisy is a very pretty dog.” I sway over to him so that my shoulder hits his and he has to catch himself from falling over. He sticks his tongue out at me.

            I realize then that it has been forever since I have had this much fun with somebody.