Catharsis

THIRTY ONE

The icy wind picks up, rattling the leaves. I squint up at what's visible of the sky. It's swirling with clouds bruised purple.

"A storm," Emma says, squinting her eyes in the mist that begins blowing through.

"Well, this is a great way to get hypothermia," I say. There's a small, level patch of dirt just off the trail to the left of us. "We may as well stop here and revel in the fact that Kaman is about to get his door busted down by the Minocqua PD."

"God, I really hope so."

I shoulder my way through the brush to the clearing. "Help me set up this tent really quick," I say.

Emma darts around our makeshift campsite. She's handing me stakes to nail in the ground, straightening poles like it was second nature. The tent is a small, yellow dome and it makes for cozy living quarters while the storm rages outside like it has it out for us. The rain thumps lightly against the roof over our heads.

I cross my arms against my chest, laying flat on my back in front of the zipped-up entrance. I'm wondering when I'm going to hand the gun over to the girl who is emptying her pockets next to me. She lines up her spoils in the beam of the five-finger-discount flashlight.

"Look!" She exclaims like it's Christmas morning. There's a line-up of snack cakes: chocolate, vanilla, coconut. I hate coconut. I hate it all, actually. And I hate that I hate it.

"Where did you get this?" I grab a cream-filled roll, peel off the thin plastic wrapping and bite into the spongy cake.

"That's not going to be kind to you," Emma says.

"It's a test."

"A test to see if you'll be able to keep anything down that isn't raw meat?"

I nod. The cake is sickeningly sweet and leaves a film of chocolate on my tongue that almost stings. I want to spit it out but I force myself to savor it. I convince myself that I'm savoring it.

"I took them at the gas station," Emma smiles with pride. I stop chewing and sit up, raising my eyebrows at her.

"You stole them?" I say with my mouth full. But she's so guiltless, she just cracks a smile and keeps eating. She's a guiltless thief.

I swallow then run a tongue over my teeth to get rid of the sugar but it doesn't work. Pining away for water, I unzip the tent door and hang my head out. Tilting my head to the sky, I catch raindrops in my open mouth. It only helps a little. Then my stomach twists and I turn to face the ground, retching just inches away from the damp pine needle-covered ground. The smell is the worst part.

"Damn, that's sweet," I say when the last bit of bile drops out. I zip the door back up.

Emma stares at me wide-eyed then shakes herself out of the concern and goes back to the snacks.

"Isn't it great?" she asks as she unwraps an iced cookie-looking-thing and bites into it. Her eyes roll back with happiness as she chews.

"You can't just take things like that," I say and wipe my lips against my shoulder. "Weren't you ever taught the law?"

She's still savoring the sweets, eyes shut. "Where did that flashlight come from again?"

"I'm ignoring you," I say.

"And this tent?" she continues. "Oh, that's right, you stole them."

"Whatever. Just don't get any cavities or anything. I'm not taking you to a dentist when your teeth rot out of your head."

"Same to you there, pal," she replies behind the cookie crumbs stuffed in her mouth. I put the cake down and brush my hands on my pants before lying back down on the lumpy ground.