Page 30 of Love Never Happens with your Brother’s Best Friend

“Could you elaborate a little further, please? What exactly will I be sharing my bathroom facilities with?”

“Oh, um. It could be a number of species from spiders, crickets, beetles, and of course, flies.” The color drains from Brodie’s face. “My advice is to give the bucket seat a quick tap, just to let them know what’s in store, and give them a chance to get away. Cave critters are mostly shy and just want to be left alone.”

“What does that mean? ‘Mostly shy.’”

“It could be just a story, but I’ve heard about… No. No. It’s just a story. Forget about it.”

“I’m sorry. Forget about it? Forget about what? Just a story or not, I think I want to hear the rest of it now. You know, before I proceed further.”

“Alright. So, I heard that a camper here a few years back… or it may have been last year. No. Last week. Anyway. He visited the convenience over there and, no sooner had he sat down comfortably to, you know, than some enormous insect attached itself to the flesh of his buttock and bit down so hard, the poor man needed surgery to remove a mandible and therapy for the psychological trauma.”

“I think I’ll just hold on.”

“Brodie.”

“Rita.”

“I’m joking.”

“That sort of joke isn’t funny.”

“Yes, it is.”

Chapter 16

Brodie

My trip to the outhouse became something that I could not postpone for much longer. I figured Rita was laying on the horror details with a trowel, but still, I was in and out in record time. Even the thought of cave critters causes a shudder of revulsion. And a campsite latrine was not a place I wanted to hang out one minute longer than necessary.

I hurriedly exit the outhouse, then wash in the stream. When I return to the camp, Rita is stuffing her tent into its bag.

“That was quick,” she says as she straps the tent bag onto her backpack.

“No mucking around for this camper.” I stand like Superman, heroically, hands on hips. “Go in. Get the job done. Then out.” I walk over to my backpack which has spilled out messily on the ground. “So, are we off then? I thought we were going to spend another night.”

“Alright, we can, if you wanted to,” Rita says looking at me quizzically. “We probably have enough food…”

“Nah. Only kidding. I just said that to see your reaction.” Rita punches my arm. She’s laughing. I fend off the blows. “You know, part of me wants to stay out and be wild. The other part of me, the part that enjoys a clean bathroom and amenities of a five-star spa, is yelling NO!”

“I get it. Absolutely. Sleeping on the ground isn’t for everyone,” Rita says smiling at me.

A moment passes between us. And I reconsider my decision to leave the camp. We could stay another night. That wouldn’t be so hard. Apart from the less than salubrious bathroom facilities, we have everything we need. Sharing the tent with Rita was wonderful. When I woke up and she was snuggled up in my arms, her hair smelling of firewood, I wanted the moment to last forever.

“What if we stay another night?” I ask shyly.

“Do you really want to?”

“Yes. I really want to. Cave critters and all.”

Rita looks down at her boots, thinks for a minute then says, “I think it’s probably best if we don’t.”

“Oh. Okay.” I nod slowly.

“Hey, I’ve boiled some water for breakfast,” Rita says brightly. “I’m having porridge with some dried fruit and nuts, but you can have carbonara again. Or even bolognese, or a combination?”

“Ooh, I’d like some porridge. If there’s enough for two.”

Rita walks to the shelter where the stove and pot are set up on the bench. She unclips a container of porridge oats and pours in a handful, followed by some dried fruit and nuts. She stirs the contents of the pot. The mixture quickly thickens, so Rita adds more water from a water bottle.

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