Page 26 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
"It might do," I say sulkily.
"Right, it might," Eric concedes. "But in fact, we know it doesn’t. Yes, something’s happening—something interesting, even—but to call it a scream is… well, it’s anthropomorphizing the plant. That means?—"
"I know what it means," I cut in, sharper than I intended. Then I catch his face—open, kind, not mocking—and I relent. "Yeah, okay. You guys are right. A high-frequency emission is not the same as an actual scream."
"Well done, Princess!" Toby throws an arm around me like I’ve just aced a test. "We’ll make a forester of you yet."
I smile, despite a twisted knot of annoyance in my stomach. Being wrong is never fun. Being wrong in front of your mortal enemies is far worse. But are they really my mortal enemies? Or is that just lazy thinking? Am I setting them up as the bad guys, simply because that's how we've always looked at logging companies like Mackenzie at Kill Climate Change? Could there actually be another side to the story? At least some nuance—some shades of gray?
None of them fit that lazy "energy-wasting climate change denier" category that I've always found so useful to assume people like them fall into. Far from it. They all actually seem just as concerned about the environment as me.
What's more, at the end of the day, they're all individuals. They all respond to me differently. Toby with humor, Jack with authority, Luke with scorn, and Eric—bless him—with love and patience.
Couldn't there be some way in which we all get on together? I mean… aren't families just like that? A collection of people, each a little different, yet all managing to pull together, just the same? What would that be like?
I shake my head to clear it.Ridiculous!
CHAPTER 10
Toby
Ihonestly don't remember ever having so much fun in this dump.
It's not like I hate the place, or anything. In fact, I enjoy my job. The guys are team players who work hard and watch each other’s backs, and I get to work with my older brother. All in all, I guess I’m pretty lucky.
But itisa dump. I mean… we’re miles from anywhere. Totally isolated. I’m not saying it’s quiet, but put it this way—if a moth clears its throat, that’s big news for a week. Aside from tree harvesting, nothing ever happens.
Sure, sometimes we manage a Friday night down in Rushville, but that’s a two-hour drive each way, and when you finally get there, you still ain’t exactly in Vegas. Three lousy bars to pick from, each selling equally lousy beer, each with just one pool table, and all of them with a single TV that seems permanently tuned to reruns of Cheers. There's nothing wrong with that program in principle. But once you've seen it, you've seen it. The class divide between him and his dad, and the rivalry between him and his brother… well, it kinda palls after the five thousandth showing. If I never had to see Dr. Frasier Crane’s face again, I’d die a happy man. My advice is, if you wanna geton with your children in later years, don’t send them to a swanky school that'll teach 'em to be different from you. And what's wrong with scrambled eggs?
As for women up here… let’s just say I’ve seen more attractive horses and leave it at that. Out in these hills, rumor has it there’s more interbreeding between second cousins than I care to imagine.
So yeah—Luna’s a surprise. A very pleasant one.
For starters, she brings color to this place. Everything here is brown or gray. Brown floors, brown walls, gray roofs. Brown uniforms. Gray safety gear. Even the damn trucks are painted brown—company branding, apparently.
Then in walks Luna. Blue eyes, bright pink hair, and a smile that—on the rare occasion she lets it loose—could light up the whole damn universe.
At first, I thought she was attractive but dumb. I mean, anyone who buys into that eco-activist crap has to be halfway stupid, right?
Turns out, she’s not dumb—just misled. Full of propaganda, like most people her age. But she’s got a brain, and more importantly, she actually uses it. What’s more, when she realizes she’s wrong? She admits it.
That takes guts. Strength of character, even.
But what I like most about her is the energy. That spark. She’s got this fierce zest for life that radiates in all directions. Yeah, she’s sexy as hell—but it’s more than that.
She challenges me. Pushes back. Doesn’t just giggle at my jokes and roll over like most girls I’ve known. Actually, come to think of it, she doesn’t laugh at my jokes at all.
Instead, she fires back. Makes me think. Forces me to dig deeper.
And her humor? Dark as a collapsed mine shaft, but sharp. Really sharp. Witty too, though usually at someone else’sexpense. Poor old Luke’s been her favorite target—she’s had her claws in him more than once.
It’s not just me warming to her, either. Eric is obviously head over heels in love. Poor guy wears it like a neon sign. I don’t think he’s too experienced with women—he’s mooning around like a teenager with a crush on his teacher. Sweet, really. Luna doesn’t seem to mind. To her credit, she hasn’t abused her power over him either.
Luke, on the other hand, loves to argue with her. Says he doesn’t trust her, but I’ve caught him eyeing her thighs when he thought no one was looking. Hypocrite.
And my brother Jack? Man, poor old Jack can’t take his eyes off her. He’s always mentioning her, even when we’re in the middle of talking shop. She’s clearly on his mind. Funny, really—I’d never have pictured the two of them together. Jack and Luna… now there’s a thought.
Even Southpaw has a soft spot for her. Wherever she goes, he follows. Mopes around, trailing a few feet behind, and when she sits down, he plunks himself right there too, practically guarding her. Strange, since he usually ignores visitors. And it’s not like she encourages him—quite the opposite, actually.
