Page 37 of F*cking Shattered

I cross my arms over my chest. “Would you stop fucking laughing and tell me what’s so damn funny? Does it not pop up like it says?”

He’s clutching his side from laughing so hard. Tears are streaming down his bright red face. I’m sure my face is growing red from anger.

“Can I help you folks?” a park ranger asks as he walks up on our camping site.

River points at him “Ask him your question.”

I turn to the ranger in annoyance. “My stupid boyfriend bought this pop-up tent. I followed the directions exactly. See?” I show him the paper with the images on it. “Why isn’t it popping up?” I suddenly realize that I just called River my boyfriend. Panic sets in, but when I turn and look back at him, he’s still so busy laughing that he didn’t catch it. Thank God!

River is still rolling as the ranger does the same thing he did. He looks at me, the picture, and then the tent. “You do realize that those poles slide into the pockets to pop it open, don’t you?”

River stops to take a breath. “No, she thinks it just pops…” he does the hand gesture again. “…open, like on its own.”

The ranger chuckles, causing River to start all over again.

I tug the paper out of his hands and move back to the tent. How was I supposed to fucking know? I’ve never put together a tent before. If something says pop up, it should fucking pop up!

I slide the poles into the little pockets I hadn’t seen before and little by little, the tent starts to pop up. I feel embarrassment wash over me.

* * *

After the fire is going and the tent “pops up,” River and I are sitting around the burning logs, cooking hotdogs on sticks, something else I’ve never done.

“So did you camp a lot as a kid?” I ask, just wanting to know more about him.

“No, my mom couldn’t take the time off work to go. Plus, camping requires a lot of stuff we didn’t have.”

I have a feeling I shouldn’t ask, but I do. “What about your dad? Were they divorced?”

“No, they were never married. My dad knocked my mom up and refused to be a part of our lives.”

“Have you ever met him?”

“Yeah, I’ve met him. When my mom got sick, I showed up at his house to ask for some money. I figured it was the least he could do, he has plenty of it. It’s not like he stuck around to help raise me. I figured giving away money would be easy for him, unlike giving a shit about me and my mom.”

“What happened?”

“He told me to get off his property before his new family came home and caught me there. Didn’t give me a fucking dime.”

I feel my heart crumble for him. “What was wrong with your mom?”

He rubs the light scruff on his jaw. “Um, she was diagnosed with lung cancer. She never was a smoker, but she waitressed in restaurants that allowed smoking and she worked in clubs and bars. She was always around it. I remember her coming home smelling of smoke so bad it burned my eyes when I hugged her.” His Adam’s apple bobs in this throat. I can see how much talking about this hurts him.

“I’m sorry for asking. You don’t push me to talk about Katie, I didn’t mean to push you.”

He pulls the hotdog out of the fire and places it on a bun. “You didn’t force me. I like sharing things with you. I just don’t want to give away all my secrets just yet and break the spell for you.” He smiles after quoting his words from before.

“Here.” He hands me the hotdog. “Let me know what you think about your first roasted hotdog.”

I take it and study it, making sure it’s not covered in soot or dirt or anything living.

“It’s not going to hurt you. Just try it,” he urges.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes to take a big bite.

“Without the teeth, that’s a nice image,” he jokes.

I lean over and smack him while chewing and swallowing.

---