Page 59 of Happiness for Beginners

It wasn’t until after they were out of sight that the rest of us let out a long, collective breath. Hugh came over to stand next to me, and we watched them hike away. “Scorching the earth sounds counterproductive,” he said.

I smiled at him.

“I love when he sets things on fire,” Hugh said. “It’s totally hot.”

I gave a little laugh. “Literally.”

Hugh decided he was going to go “find the bathroom” before we set off, and he left me kicking at the pile of ashes.

A few minutes later, Jake came up.

“He is actually crazy, that guy Beckett,” Jake said.

I shrugged.

“That was your list, wasn’t it? The one you kept in your bra?”

How did he know that? I just shrugged. “Time for a new list, anyway.”

“Is it?” he asked.

I looked up. “Windy’s been teaching me how to be happy.”

That caught his interest. “She is?”

“Apparently, there’s a lot of list-making involved.”

“She’s something, isn’t she?”

“Oh, man,” I said. “I just love her.”

Jake nodded. “Anyway, I brought you a present. To replace your lost list.” He held out a folded piece of paper.

“What is it?”

“It’s a poem.”

“You wrote a poem?”

“No. It’s Pablo Neruda. My favorite poem by my favorite poet.”

“You had it in your pack?”

He shook his head with a little half smile. “I keep it in my pocket. Though I’d keep it in my bra if I had one.”

“You don’t want it anymore?”

“I want you to have it. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That you don’t read it.”

I frowned. “I can only have it if I don’t read it?”

“It’s private. Between Pablo and me.”

“What good is a gift-poem if I can’t read it?”

---