In Limbo (8 page)

             
Tom stuck his head in the tent.  “What's up with Marty?”

              I looked up to him, I wanted so much for him to hold me, take me away from here.

              “This is so weird,”   I said softly. “There is something really, really wrong.”

              “Sunburn?”

             
“No, I think it's something else.  Sam said she's on some new medication, but somehow it just doesn't fit either.” 

             
I felt her forehead again, it was hot and dry, her heart rate was up too, I counted 120 and irregular. 

             
Sam told us he was planning on staying in the tent with Marty for a little while and I thought that would be a good idea.  She felt so hot to touch, I was sure that she was really dehydrated, and so I encouraged Sam to give her lots of fluids to drink, even if it meant waking her up.

             
Tom pulverized a couple of aspirin for her and dissolved that in some soda.  Sam was spoon feeding the mixture to Marty as we were crawling out of the tent.

              When three hours passed, I fed her two more dissolved aspirin and then joined the others in front of the tent.  For awhile, nobody said anything.  Then I spoke up: “Marty is pretty sick, we need to get her off this river as fast as possible.  Sam, if we push, really push, how fast can we be at the takeout point?”

              “Daylight?”

             
I nodded.

              “Oh, four or five hours.” 

              “That's not too bad, but we need to do it faster.  Sandy, did you bring your famous cell phone?” 

              “But of course,” she said with a fake British accent.  I could have kissed her.  I had counted on her vanity, on her need to show off, and she did not let me down.  Quickly I dialed the number to our ER.  There would be a doctor on duty and I wanted help, but in this valley I never even got a signal. I was back to square one.

             
“Well, guys, for now she is holding her own, but we can't let her just lay there until morning. I think we should just take turns checking on her.”

              “I will be sleeping in that tent,” Sam said.  “I'll handle the checking” 

              I nodded.  We sat there in silence.  This wasn't what any of us had envisioned and I was pretty scared.  I didn't know what was wrong with Marty and I could only hope that what I was doing was actually helping her.

Chapter 9

             
Saturday  5:35 p.m.

             
Ken Messer, Jeff Craft and Dave Smith carried a large canvas bag each.  Neither had any additional clothing.  Each pack contained electronic equipment they would be mounting on trees.  The equipment would obtain readings during the night and make sure everything was working.  This was supposed to be confirmed by the computer center.  Once confirmation was received, the men were free to return to the retreat and continue the remote monitoring. Their reaction to hiking into the backwoods area with military reservists was mixed.  Ken Messer enjoyed the young peoples' vigor and energy and was interested in their stories.  Dave Smith and Jeff Craft wanted as little as possible to do with their temporary companions. When they realized that one of them would need to spend the night in the wild, it was only logical that Ken stay behind. He didn't mind.  He rather enjoyed the company, and having always been a camper he enjoyed the reprieve from the more formal corporate life.

Chapter  10

             
We helped Sam move his tent closer to the fire.  That way, he could check on Marty and still be a part of the group conversation.  The coffee was replaced by hot chocolate and we settled down and got comfortable.

              “It's a shame Marty isn't feeling well” said Ralph.  “I was just thinking about that one trip we took, just the guys, and we took a bunch of beer along.”

              He chuckled and punched Tom on the shoulder.

              “Well anyway, we were fishing all day long and drinking beer.  Didn't think anything about it until it started getting dark outside.  We had no place to camp, but we had a bunch of fish.  Mr. Conservation here came to the rescue.  He found a spot.  It was just big enough for us to tie up the canoes.  We couldn't cook, make coffee, nothing.  Not that we cared; if we got worried about it, we just had another beer.  Anyway, we spent the night in the canoes.  It was wild!  I'll never complain about my waterbed again!  But that's not all of it: The next morning we finally realized that we did not have water with us to brush our teeth, so we brushed with toothpaste and beer.  It was absolutely gross.”  He laughed.

             
“Yeah,” Sandy stood up and stretched. “ You guys came home so fucking hung over, it took you three days to recover.  Some weekend that was!  One for the books, for sure.” 

              Tom looked over and winked at me.  “Oh, it wasn't that bad now was it?”

              “Don't look at me, pal!”  I said.  “Allen was at my parents that memorable weekend and I had to work.  I came home after a weekend of puking people in the ER and there at home is this
man - whom I used to love so dearly - and he is puking his guts out.  Yes, Dear, it was that bad.”  

             
I took a sip of my Hot Chocolate and almost burned my tongue. 

              Sam crawled out of his tent and I turned to him.

              “How is she?”  I said between puffing air onto my too Hot Chocolate. 

             
He sighed.

             
“Well, she is sleeping and she doesn't feel quite as hot to the touch as she did earlier.  I've been getting some fluids into her, actually quite a bit.” 

             
“That's great!  Maybe she just had too much sun?  Besides, she's on some new medication which may have had something to do with it.  I'm sure she'll feel better after some sleep.”

              “I think so too. What was all the laughing about?”  

             
We cracked up again and told him.  He produced a bag of little tiny marshmallows and passed it around. I love little marshmallows in hot chocolate.  I leaned back in my seat and looked up at the sky.  The stars were so clear and bright, I wished I had binoculars.  The others were also enjoying the evening, even Sandy, who seldom relaxes until all the dishes are done.  And it was Sandy who surprised me.  

             
“This is a night for a moonlight swim,” she said. “As soon as the moon is overhead I'm in the water, I don't care what you all do or say.”   

              “I may just join you,” I said to my own surprise.  “I just don't want to slip into that wet swimsuit.” 

             
Sandy just laughed lustily, “Who said anything about a swimsuit, anyway?”

              I looked at Tom.  “Go ahead, Babe,” he said.  “You don't need my permission.  Besides, I may join you.  This place is about as private as it gets.”

              What else can you do when you are on the edge of a river, away from everything else, on a clear, starry, moonlit night?  I could think of a few more things.  But I spread my swimsuit out by the fire hoping it would dry just a little bit.  Before too long the topic of the campfire conversation turned toward the friendship we were sharing.  I looked at the river bathed in the pale moonlight, the ripples shimmering like liquid silver, and felt drawn to it.  I closed my eyes and imagined slowly slipping into the warm, black depth, with each step shutting out more of the world around me.

              I looked at Tom, momentarily at a loss for words.  My wonderful husband read my thoughts, took my outstretched hand, winked at Ralph and Sandy and followed me to the water. 

              About three or four feet from the water's edge was an old weather beaten tree trunk.  Although almost half submerged in the gravel and sand, it still provided us with a dry spot for towels and clothes.  We undressed, clasped hands and walked into the now considerably cooler water. 

              I had to hold my breath for these first few steps when my body, hot from the long day out in the sun, entered the cool darkness of the river.  I felt my my breasts ache, and as the water embraced me I found it difficult to breathe.  Once we were fully submerged it was easier and I actually started to feel warmer again.  Tom snuggled up to me and whispered into my ear, “I love the way your nipples are sticking out, baby.  Makes me horny.  You better watch out, I might
just
ravage your body right here and now.”

              I reached for him and with a big grin he guided my hand to his erection.  Yes, it would be a memorable night.  I pointed to a huge fallen tree on the opposite bank.  “Let's go over there, Tarzan, and see what we can stir up.”

             
Just a few strokes brought us to the other side, and when Tom climbed onto the fallen log he found the remains of an old boat dock hidden behind it.  The tree had actually landed on a flat section of concrete that now was just barely above the water and maybe 20 feet offshore.  Giggling, I sat on the edge of it letting my legs dangle, my back turned toward our camp.  Tom did not waste any time.  With his hands, he urged me forward until I had to lean back to keep from slipping off the dock. By the time my upper body rested on my bend arms, his mouth was on me and I didn't care if there were birds or bees or turtles watching.  I love making love with Tom.  We share the same passion for sex, and over the years we have turned pleasuring each other into an art form.  Tom is gentle, firm and passionate, and he knows just where and how to touch me.

             
I really don't remember how long we were on this concrete platform.  I didn't keep track of time.  I didn't care.

             
Then we rested in each other's arms, breathless, warm and satisfied.  I couldn't think of anything but my love for Tom, and felt almost overwhelmed by the stars and the moonlight and the shimmering current of the river flowing past us.

              The rhythm of the water splashing against the concrete was hypnotic, and I turned on my side snuggling up to Tom.  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement on the bank.  For a split second I saw a man standing there.  He lit a match or a lighter and was gone
again.  Startled, I sat up, at the same time bumping my elbow on the concrete and scraping an ankle.

             
“Tom,” I whispered.  “Tom, there's somebody watching us.”

              “Mmmmm, its just our guys babe.”    

              “No, on the other shore.  I'm serious.  I just saw a man there, he lit a cigarette or something.”

             
Tom turned toward the bank.  “Where?”  

             
“Right over there.”  I pointed to the bank, to a spot where a large sycamore was leaning precariously over the water.  I couldn't see the person any longer, but I felt very uneasy. Tom scanned the opposite bank, then finally said, “OK, let's just go back, babe.”  He helped me off the concrete, but not without scraping his knees.

             
In the water and out of sight of the bank, he quietly said, “You know, it could have been a military patrol just passing by, checking on their perimeter.  It's really okay.  I doubt that either two-legged or four-legged animals care about what we were doing tonight.”

             
I let myself slip into the cool waters, deep, well over my head, until I could no longer hold my breath. 

              “I thought you said we were past Camp Crowder?”  I reached down and carefully massaged my sore ankle.

             
“I just hope the creep enjoyed the show.”  I said when I came back up, spitting out river
water.  “And next time we decide to fuck on concrete, lets at least bring along a boat cushion or two.”  

             
We returned to the camp.  Sandy and Ralph were still sitting by the fire sipping beer.

              “You two have fun?” Sandy said, raising the can of beer in greeting. 

            We both laughed.  “You ought to give that a try sometime.” 

              But Sandy just shook her head. 

             
“No, I think I'll pass.  You two look too beat up.  Just look at your legs.  You're lucky they don't have piranhas in this river.”

              I had to admit we did look a little rough in the light of the fire, but considering, …..... I caught myself smiling.

             
We dried off and I cleaned the abrasions with some antiseptic wash and put on some antibiotic ointment.

              When the fire finally died down, we crawled into our tents for the night.  It was quiet around us.  I remember thinking that we didn't tell the others of our encounter with the stranger and probably should have, but I fell asleep before I could worry about it.