Page 56 of Velvet and Valor
“You think it comes naturally for anyone?”
“It doesn’t?”
“Nooooo,” she says, her mouth forming an O. “Oh no, I have to fight off dark impulses of my own. True, they aren't violent impulses, but…if you’re pinned down at a premiere party by the world’s most boring film critic, sometimes you feel tempted to say a few words in the right ear and destroy his career.”
“Oh, I get it. I’m like one of those redneck serial killers who taxidermies his victims, while you’re more of a sophisticated serial killer, like Saw Man.”
She stops laughing and gives me an exasperated look.
“Saw man?”
“From those movies with the deathtraps?—”
“Jigsaw,” she says, leaning against me and sighing. “Jigsaw, you big idiot. What am I going to do with you?”
I chuckle softly.
“Well, I can think of a few things,” I say, slipping my arm around her shoulders. “Hey, does this count as a date? Being kidnapped together, I mean?”
“Oh no, any day where I almost drown is most emphatically not a date,” she says firmly.
“Hey, I think I see the ranger station,” I say, pointing at a wooden tower peeking out from behind the verdant green.
“Thank God. I hope there’s something to drink, I need to get the taste of puke and river water out of my mouth.”
“Geez, sorry, next time I’ll use a breath mint.”
She slaps me on my ass as we reach the steps winding up the side of the tower. It must be more than fifty feet high.
“It doesn’t look like anyone is home,” she says.
“Yeah, but there might be someone up top. Let’s go check it out.”
The top is just as abandoned as the bottom. She puts her nose against the glass and peers inside.
“Man, I wish the doors weren’t chained shut,” she says. “I can see a whole pallet of bottled water.”
“Oh, you mean this chain?” I grab a metal tent spike laying discarded on the deck and shove it through one of the chain links. One, two, three twists later, the chain snaps. It was never meant to keep out serious invasion attempts.
“This is breaking and entering,” she says.
“We’re in a crisis situation, we can take some supplies,” I say. “Besides, our tax money paid for this station, and it’s sitting around empty. We basically have a human right to do this.”
“Hmm. I dunno. How about you exercise your human rights to find us something to eat, too?”
I nod and start to explore the station while she makes a beeline for the water. I pause and look back at June.
“June?”
“Yeah?” she says, unscrewing a cap and draining the bottle in about eight seconds.
“About before…I’m sorry I upset you. I wasn’t trying to ruin your day.”
“I know.” She smiles. “Maybe we can find ways for you to deal with your dark thoughts that don’t involve going on depressive rants, though.”
I laugh. “Maybe.”
Then I cross the floor in two steps, as the nearly empty bottle falls from her fingers. We come together in a torrid, all-encompassing kiss.
