Eat Your Heart Out

Set out to hike the forest of these here mountains, my partner and I. We=ve done similar before without death. We=ve covered the Brooks Range in north Alaska, where I fainted alongside a snowy bluff and my partner put his weight on the rope that linked us. He said I woke halfway down that slope and started hollering AShe=s gunna eat me!@
The Seward Peninsula Mountains over by Nome was a walk in the park until that damn Polar Bear caught a fancy on the fumes of the chili-cans in my pack. AShe=s gunna eat me!@ I screamed like a little girl running from her pleasure-bound uncle. I continued to scream after my hiking partner took his sawed-off shotgun to that bear=s temple. I ran clear over the next slave-mountain, and I was lost from my partner for some hours.
Mount Zard-Kuh over in Asia threw some mighty-fierce trees in our faces why, my partner took a whiplash of a branch I brushed aside to his eyes. He couldn=t see right for days.

Good thing my partner and I didn=t believe in hiking alone. We heard horror stories of them misfortunate who were lost of the trails, defied of the night-sky map by snowstorms and rain-torrents. We heard of their hallucinations B like something out of a twisted version of The Lord of The Rings with walking, talking trees and sleek, red eyes that stare from the blanks between the trees. These here mountains, called the Cascades of Washington, were always wet and annoying. The clouds always glowed an annoying, grey haze. The heavy forest below the master-peaks lacked the personality than the more challenging ones we put our footprints on before. My partner insisted we head up the slopes where there might be some snow left and we could see the panorama of tall, green trees below. Given he=d saved my hide on almost every hiking trip we=ve been I just assumed he knew better than I when the trail ended. Cliffs seemed to take the ground away just beyond conspicuous bushes and I even tripped on the root of one, sending me to my knees. As I fell forward I put my hands out in front of me but there was no ground to catch. Before my eyes the panorama of Evergreens and seldom rising fog about their tips sent my stomach clear near my throat. I waved my hands in the air quite frantically and all that came out of my mouth was ADon=t eat me! Hey! She=s gunna eat me!@ as I struggled with the balance of my knees. My partner grabbed my pack and dragged me over them damn, conspicuous bushes.
AWhy do you always plead not to be consumed?@ he asked. AAnd why a girl?@ I laid helpless on my back, propped slightly upwards by my pack. I looked to the dimming day-sky, the clouds that crept across.
AWorse fear. I wreckin=Y@


We didn=t say nutin= for hours after that and I hoped for him to stop looking around. I knew he sought a place to camp for the night, but I was eager to get a tent over my head before the rain. We stopped amongst a wet, grassy spot and my partner stopped to test it out. A squirrel jumped from a tree behind me and trickled through the grass, past my partner, into a bush and up another tree. The critter caught my partner=s eyes too. He walked up to that tree, flattening the bush with his feet. He peeked up the trunk for the squirrel=s nest, scooting his feet as he moved about tree. One of his feet=s scoots found a weak spot in that ground and he slipped grip. I was slow to be startled because of how darn tired and indifferent I was. Fact was that I didn=t feel nuthin til= he slipped a second time and he seemed to be sinking into mud, or a mud-bank. He reached out for the bush but as soon as he did he lost all grip at his feet. He made an attempt to holler but I guess he didn=t expect to loose his feet, letting out a quick AAh!@ like my mom use to do when I pulled at the dog=s ears. AAh!@ she=d say and slap the back of my head, AYou want her to eat ya?@
I wasn=t too concerned. I even wanted to laugh. I walked up to the bush with a grin til= I noticed that there was no forest in the background and I failed to hear my partner thump. I peaked over the bush and sure enough it was hiding a mighty cliff, the silver rock of the edge fading into black. The squirrel darted across that tree=s branches and a few pieces of bark floated on down and over the edge. I watched them pieces twirl into black.

I wasn=t sure what to think or feel. Not normal for a man wise of woods to ignorantly plunge over a cliff. I say I felt a sense of pride.
Got complicated in my head when I looked back at that gloomy forest. I figured that squirrel was one of them hallucinations people have told us of before. Got the best of my partner, it did. Being he was of the confident and the wise I gave myself only seconds till one of them trees hidin= in the dark chased me off that cliff. So I ran past them trees, so paranoid that I, when I realized I wasn=t breathing, I took in a barrel-full of cold air and blew it out like an old steam engine, thrusting my arms so hard that my hands rose above my head. When the pushing of my arms became faster then the pushing of my legs I fell frontward, landing my cheek into moist, bark-sprinkled soil. 


I stayed on that forest floor. I heard trickles hit the ground near me and I feared a deadly insect. The trickles grew louder and sporadic. I closed my eyes as tight as I could have, prioritizing my eyes as one of the last things on my body I wanted an ant or a snake, evil squirrel or skunk to attack. The trickles on the forest ground were all around my face. I felt one tap at my calf. I shrieked and squirmed across the dirt and bark like a retreating snake. Then they started tapping me everywhere. I couldn=t stand it. I moved as fast as I could. I didn=t understand why such tiny, little things were so irresistible. If I were on a giant and she moved as fast as me I=d be scared out of my pack. But they persisted, taping and poking at me. I figured it was ants because there were so many, and in so many different places. I got to my feet and ran, avoiding the trees. Even when I was standing I could still hear them tapping at the ground. With a cold breeze the trees started cheering like a stadium full of maniacs. I ran anywhere. Some of the times I came to a place where the trees calmed down, but the ants still tapped at everything. I began to sweat profusely. I became soaked of it. My Long-John=s, my sweater, my sweat-pants, my heavy camouflage-coat and pants were all wet. I was uncomfortable enough with the trees cheering on the omnipresent ants, the weight of my soaked clothes made it unbearable. I collapsed and rolled a few times over, settling next to one of them gigantic tree trunks. I could still hear the ants taping at everything, but they taped on me no more. Against the trunk of that there tree I rested my tired back. AThank you. Thank you,@ I said to the tree, the only one that seemed not to cheer along. I looked up and this tree=s large, flat and wooden, leafless branches blocked my view of the sky. A light shone from its trunk, through one of its small holes, and I knew I was at the foot of a living, walking tree. It was no wonder the ants did not tap at me. I stared closely at the forest floor ahead of me. I began to see tiny areas of the ground move from the tapping of the ants. I was horrified but relieved. I closed my eyes and hoped that my protection would last. Soon I came to the conclusion that I did not want to see my death. I let myself sleep, the ant=s splats upon the ground riddling into my head. Those splats upon the ground could have been me.
Warmth woke me. My clothes had dried and the ants no longer tapped at the ground. I couldn=t believe what I had gone through. That=s actually why I flung my hands into the air and started laughing. AAnt=s on the groundY@ I said and chuckled. AAhhhhhhhh@ I gasped in relief. AHallucinations.@ I got up and called for my partner. AHey! I was hallucinatin=!@ There was no answer. AI was goin= crazy. Hallucinatin=.@ I laughed some more and looked about. The tree I thought of to live I saw then to actually be a house, a cabin house. It was built of logs placed on top of each other in mesmerizing symmetry. AIYI was HallucY@ I walked about the cabin. I lifted myself onto my toes and poked my eyes at the windows. AYou here?@ There was no answer. I checked the windows again, but I wasn=t tall enough or close enough to see inside. AARE YOU HERE!@
My voice echoed through the woods. I walked around one side of the small, log-cabin. I heard its door open, like someone kicked at a thin layer of wood. Around the next corner of the cabin she appeared holding a double-sided, exaggerated axe. I must have looked pitiful. The way she smiled when she saw me made me feel confused. She leaned the long handle of the double-sided axe on her should and one of the blades rested on her cheek.
AI=ve lost my hiking partner,@ I said. I kept my arms at my side and a distance from her. I watched her eyes move up and down as she measured me with her eyes.
AAre you carrying any killers?@ she asked. She had a city person=s accent.
AIYkillers?@

AWeapons. Something you trail-fuckers like to slain me with.@ 
ANo. My partner had all that stuff. He carried all the food and tents. All I got isY@ I took my pack off of my back but couldn=t find the zipper. AI gotY@
ANo food?@ she asked and walked up to me, swinging the axe like a pendulum at her side. I couldn=t figure how such a city-girl lookin= gal like her could handle two heads of axe=s the width of two man=s shoulder spans. AYou...must be hungriiiiiiiie.@ She almost sang the word hungry, licking her lips and measuring me with her eyes. I nodded reluctantly. AYou can stay in my house. I=ll call the cops.@
I let my guard down and laughed when she said cops. I smiled like a blushing child, relieved that I wasn=t as mental as I though I may have been. She turned and walked around the corner of her cabin. I followed her and into her house.
I saw that she wore a heavy, brown coat with light-brown and grey fur on the insides of her hood. Her hair was that of which=s hair, but fit her well, tangled and a blank, dull-blonde with scarce patches of dust and Evergreen tree-peddles. Her skin was light on her face, a golden-peach tone with areas of dirt stains, like she scooped coal from a steam engine. She placed her axe at the side of a large, metal stove built for burning wood. An enormous, metal tube served as the chimney and rose up to the cabin ceiling.
She looked at me with her blue eyes, blue eyes amplified by her dirty skin and light, almost invisible brows. She smiled at me. AYou can sit on my bed.@

I turned and saw her bed running parallel against a wall of hers. It was just beneath a window with the bright-white glow of the clouds flowing through. It turned to be the only window in the house, the window I slept that night under. I sat on it and watched her take a cellular phone out of small, silver purse. She turned to me with the phone on her ear and gave me a sweet smile, a section of her cardboard-hair bending over her eyes. I couldn=t help but to smile back. She came to be a cute girl to me.
AHello. I=m out here in my cabin and I found some lost man wondering about my cabin.@ She was putting her weight on one leg, with her hip sticking out to the side. I could see her figure through those heavy clothes and I knew her to be a woman of fine physique. ANo. Everything is fine. We just need someone to come rescue him.@ She looked at me and smiled when she said it. I curled my lips under each other and nodded, raising my hands in the air and facing my palms to her ceiling. She laughed. I felt very nice. ANo. I don=t have car or anyone I know to come pick him up. And I only have enough food for myself so I can=t walk back with him.@ Her cabin was not usual. I only saw this one room but I could see the passage way to another, a space where a door should be. From what I could make out it seemed to be a kitchen or simply a room with counters and cabinets above. AAlright. We=ll wait right here. Thaaaaanks.@ She turned her dirty face to mine. AThey don=t know how long it will be. Since it=s not so urgent they said it might be a couple days or so.@
AThank you for your generosity, lady,@ I said.
ALadyY@ she mocked me and laughed, AYou=re a bit silly.@
AAll I do is hike forest-land with my partner. I don=t do much else.@ She reached her hand out to me.
ABackpack?@ I sat on her bed and looked back at her like a foreign man who understood nothing of the language but was desperate for communication. AThat thing on your back?@

AOh. My Pack.@ I doubted handing my belongings off to her. Not even my partner ever cared for my pack. Coming to think of it, I was really the only one who ever wore it and mended it.
AMay I get the load off your back?@ She said, giggling.
AYea. Yes. Here, my load,@ I said, making a joke on accident. She laughed and it made me feel so nice, so light.
AI=ll just hang this over here.@ She hung it on her coat-rack by the front door, where she kept many large jackets and various packs.
ASo many coats and packs,@ I said.
AOh?@ She turned back to her rack, AOhYYes. A lady like me likes to own a diverse selection of possibilities.@ She walked into the room with cabinets and counters, seemingly going about her homely business. AMost girls in the city like to have like, 12 pairs of shoes, 10 purses and hundreds of wardrobes. I am the same way but with other things not so lady-like.@
ALike the coats and packs?@
AYou=re so smart,@ she said as if she were talking to a child. My confidence in socializing with someone of her likings dug faster into the ground than a mole. The next thing I said was not me.
AI was taught by monkeys when hiking the Amazon.@ I looked through the door-less space for her to walk by, to hear that I influenced a real laugh or a smile. It took a moment or two, or maybe it was time slowing down by the surge of my anticipation, but she laughed. I rubbed my hands together and looked aimlessly about the room. I put my hands on the bed and felt the scratchy surface of the mattress.

AOh I=m sorry,@ she said as she entered the room, AI don=t usually sleep on it so there=s no covers.@
AWhy don=t you just cut the mattress open and sleep inside like a sleeping bag?@ I had not a clue where my wits came about.
ACut it open?@ she asked with a smile. I raised my shoulders slightly into the air and my head swayed to each side, my sight to the ground and an embarrassed smile that I could feel pushing skin against my eyes. AYou=re a funny man-hiker.@

She opened the door to the metal oven. The hinges wined. She took the matches from the top of the oven, swiped it across the zipper on her jeans. It flared up and the light of the flame reflected off her electrified eyes. I was in awe of the pulsating light of flame upon her dirty face, her cardboard hair and nearly invisible brows. She lit what must have been wood inside the oven. I could never tell what was in there since it=s door swung open towards the bed. She shut the door and slapped her hands together. AWant some tomato soup?@
I nodded tensely. She went into the other room and opened a cabinet that I could see. She took down large, glass jars filled with brassy water and placed them on the counter. Behind the jars she found a red and white can. She walked out of site and came back with a pot. I had not known that I was smiling the whole time.
AWhat?@ she laughed. I opened  my mouth but nothing came out. AI know it=s in a canY Ironic isn=t it? I can hike twice as many miles as a man and live twice as many lives as any woman without a man, but I can=t grow or hunt my own food.@
AYou can=t make anything homemade?@

AWell, there is one dish that I have been making since forever. It=s as easy to me as making toast, though,@ she laughed.
AWell how about some of that?@ She laughed at me again.
AYou don=t even know what it is I=m talking about. You=re damned to tomato soup tonight.@
AI ain=t picky.@
AI am. I can hardly eat anything. I like real exotic foods. I got a secret about what I eat.@
AWhat is the lady=s secret?@
AI don=t know,@ she said as she popped the lid of the can off and dumped it into the pot, AIt=s kind of gross. I mean, most people would think it.@
AMe and my partner ate some bugs once. We was tryin= to feel what it would be like if we lost all our food,@ I said. I laughed like I had hiccups. She then giggled in a way that made me feel I was someone funny to her, that I was someone unique to her.
AWell. I don=t eat bugs.@ We were laughing together, connected with humor.
AOh,@ I said and bounced my head side to side.
AI like my food bloody,@ she said.
ABloody? Like you don=t cook your food? Is it because you don=t know how?@
ANo,@ she laughed, pouring water into the pot of tomato sauce. AI cook it. But, it=s like I enjoy it when it=s rare.@
AOh. I know what you=re saying. Me and my partner went to this place once where a fellow asked us if we wanted rare meat. I said ain=t it illegal to eat elephants?@

A laugh burst from her mouth and she covered it. AOoops. I think I spit in your soup.@
AIt=s fine. I eat food in the rain a lot.@
AI see.@ We both giggled and laughed. It seemed easy for her, but I was to the limits of my attention. If I failed to make her laugh I would have likely started to cry.
ADo you want egg-whites in your soup?@ she asked as she cracked an egg into my soup. AIt=s really good. I=ll put some white rice in it too.@
AYou must like tomato soup a lot?@
AActually, no. I don=t.@
AOh. Weird.@ I said. AWhy do you live out here?@
AWell I only sometimes come out here. I spend half of the year here and the rest in the city.@ She stirred the soup and sprinkled rice. Steam rose from the pot and the smell made my tongue tingle. AI walk all the way out here from Tacoma, spend a good six months and go back.@
AWhat do you do there?@
AI own a camping store.@
AYou own a store to yourself, huh? You=re quite a lady you know.@
AI am quite.@ Her pun made me laugh. I felt fortunate for the ants to have chased me to her.          

AIt=s done.@ She set the pot on the mattress next to me and laid the stirring spoon inside. AEat. Then sleep, sarcastic hiking-man.@

She went into the next room and seemed to be tidying up. I heard the glass of the jars tap against each other, the pops of the lids as the air rushed in. I started at the warm soup. The eggs and the rice slid down my throat, soaked in tomato. It wasn=t often that I could appreciate a taste as desperate as this. Usually, I ate patiently, enjoying the flavor and thinking. But here I could not stop tossing spoon-fulls of that tomato soup into my mouth. AYou sure you don=t have an art for cooking, lady?@ I yelled.
AJust eat.@
I made the pot empty and yawned. She came in and took the pot. She took it inside the next room. AYou can sleep on the bed. It=s a good thing it=s not so bright outside.@ She looked out the window and to the fading sky. She leaned over my face. I took her bottom lip to my memory.
She left to the next room. I looked to the rolling ceiling of logs and measured my circumstance. I laughed. Next thing I knew, I was lighter than helium.

The window shone a bright, cloudy white into my eyes. Of all the places me and my partner been, nowhere is as dull as the light that the clouds here radiate. I didn=t like waking to an uncomfortable atmosphere, and so I thought of Lady. I turned my face away from the window and saw her stirring another pot of steaming tomato soup. I shifted my weight and failed. On my left wrist was the knot of a tied rope. It was tied about my wrist and anchored on a pole of the frame of the bed. I looked to my other arm and found the same conclusion. I panicked and my knees bent, but only slightly, because each of my ankles was tied, independently, to the frame on the other end. My movement must have startled her.

AOh. Hikin Man is awake. I hope you don=t mind some more tomato soup and eggs.@ I felt the helpless expression on my face, the bending brows and the ajar mouth. Then the most peculiar reasoning=s came about in my head. I felt too ordinary. I wanted to be different for her. I figured that she was experienced in what she was doing to me and was use to men hollering, begging and puking. I didn=t want to be just another catch for her. I wanted to be that fish who jumps into the boat.
AThanks,@ I said, AI would have rolled right off this bed in my sleep.@ She laughed and swayed back and forth, brushing her rough hair from her forehead. She took the pot off the oven and set it next to my face. I could feel the lukewarm air that surrounded the metal pot. She took the wooden stirring spoon, full of tomato soup and strands of egg-white, pieces of rice, and let it hover next to my mouth.
ATake a bite, Hikin Man.@ I opened my smile and she poured the warm soup inside. I swallowed with difficulty since she had me on my back. Some soup leaked from my mouth and streamed down my cheek. She took her finger and wiped it. She was smiling the whole time. Her face, her bottom lip was close to me. The dirt on her face had traces of green smudges. Her teeth, straight and symmetrical, were a soft yellow. The cloudy-white light from the window shone on her tangled, blonde hair, making it bright, majestic, especially with her face so soft of color. She smiled as I received her spoons of soup.
AI like your soup.@ Her smile grew. I enjoyed how her smiles did not wrinkle her cheeks so much. It was as if her face was shaped for a smile. I could picture her without a mouth and she would still be smiling to me.


The black subtly transformed to a soft grey as my eyes opened. I woke with my eyes on the window again. Rain drops left trails on the glass. Some of the trails I could not follow the whole way because of the skinny, wooden cross on the window. Though it was relaxing to listen to the rain tap at the logs of the house, to smell another pot of tomato soup, to hear her knock the wooden spoon against the edges of the pot, I felt awe numbness at my feet. I looked to other end of the bed. That end of the mattress was soaked in red, the heaviest reds at where I should have had feet. I did not know how to react. I wasn=t even sure if reacting would do me any good. I stared at the soaked mattress like I remember staring at them Niagara Falls, trying to follow sections of water from the river and over the falls, timing how long it takes for it to hit the lake below.
AHello,@ she said. I looked away from the wall and to the pot on top of the burning, metal oven. AJust the same as yesterday, your daily special.@ I fought the natural need for my face to strike her in anguish. I liked who she was. I saw Lady to have eyes I would always recognize more than a full moon beyond branches. She put the wooden spoon to my mouth and I let her feed me. My body started to spasm. My legs vibrated and pulled at the ropes that tied them. She had tied ropes about my shin. ANow, now. Aren=t hiker-men supposed to have strong legs?@
AI=m having an orgasm,@ I said. What did I say?
She laughed, spilling tomato soup out of the spoon. AYour soup=s quite the experience,@ I said.
ABack to sleep Hikin-Man.@


I was probably awake for a few minutes this third time, unconsciously staring at the window. Had to be the next day because the window was dry inside and out. When I recalled that that cloud-white, dismal glow is that which annoys me I turned my face away. I saw Lady standing in front of the metal oven, lit and burning. Steam rose from the pot on top of it. Lady had taken her coat off, and beneath she wore a thick, bulky, red sweater. She stood with weight on one leg, itching at her shin with the other, savoring the soft cotton of her red sweater with her crossed arms. I could see the red-orange pulsations of the fire reflect off of her soft, pudding face.  My body shook and vibrated. I looked to where my feet use to be, finding where my legs use to be. My eyes flooded. My lips bounced. My vision jerked left to right. When I felt ordinary again, too predictable for Lady, I shut my eyes tight. I took a deep breath.
AHiking-ManY@ she said. I heard her footsteps on the wood-floor. When I opened my eyes I saw the rolling logs of the ceiling. I turned my face toward her, getting a sight-full of her red, cotton sweater. I angled my face up to her eyes. She was smiling like my mother use to when I was sick and she brushed at the hair above my forehead.
ADid you build this yourself?@ I asked her.
ANo, Hiking-Man.@
I laughed like I embarrassingly hurt myself. I could feel my brows bend ferociously. I knew I looked like I hated her. I felt my eyes overflow. My arms flexed and pulled at the rope. AIYI, I don=t hate you,@ I said.
ADo you think I hate you, Hikin=-Man?@
AYou can feelY whatever you want, Lady. As long as you feelYsomething.@ With each word I got hic-ups and shook.

AI think you need some more sleep,@ she said.
ASleep needs me.@ She laughed and brushed my sweating forehead with her red sweater=s sleeve.
ABoth of you need tomato soup, first.@
AI=ll just wait here until you finish.@ I closed my eyes and listened to her laughs. I listened to the tapping of the wooden spoon upon the metal pot. I regret it, but I kept my eyes closed when she fed me the soup. I even spit some soup out of my mouth on purpose so that she would touch my face.

Tap. Tap. Tap, tap tap tap tap woke me up. My hazy eyes were on the window. Rain drops leaked down the glass. I had not enough energy to focus on the upper-left square of the window, keeping my sight on the drops of the lower-left box. I was, before, displeasured of the cross on the window, but now found it an easing way to watch. I heard crackling and popping. I pulled slightly with my arms and I was still tied to the frame. I looked to where my feet, my legs use to be. They still weren=t there. I looked to the oven. She stood in front, weight on one leg, arms crossed. Her red sweater laid on the floor by my bed. She replaced it with a thin, grassy-green t-shirt. My suspicions of her feminine body were true. Her shoulders were tiny, but her neck long. Her beasts were pushed up by her crossed arms, her cardboard-hair swaying down at them.
ANo soup?@ I asked. I almost whispered. She turned her eyes to mine.
ASo selfish is the Hikin=-Man,@ she said and smiled like she was teasing.
AIt is warm in this place,@ I said. I couldn=t really feel anything upon my skin.
AI got some good burning material.@

AI got a joke for you,@ I said. She walked over to me. She lowered herself to my level. AWhat do you call a fly with no wings?@
AFood for you and your partner,@ she answered with a playful smile. I tried to laugh, but only small exhales of air barely escaped.
AA Walk.@
She laughed a real one. This gave me enough pleasure and energy to laugh along with her. I felt my stomach rise and fall. AWhat do you call Hikin=-Man with no legs?@
ABob,@ I said. She giggled, and her smile, her soft face, was close to mine as she rested her chin in her arms upon the mattress.
Her face went flat. AFood for Lady.@
I kept smiling at her flat, soft face. I heard her, but I figured I wanted to hear her laugh more. AI=ll probably taste more like tomato soup now,@ I said, no longer able to hold my eyes open. Yet my ears, their hearing, withered away with her laughing.

I woke. My eyes were on the window again. I saw nothing outside. It was dark. It was even hard to see the wooden cross. I turned my face to the other side. I saw her sleeping in a wooden rocking-chair placed in front of the burning oven. The door to the oven was open. The bottom of one of my legs stuck out from the oven. My jeans were still on them.
She sat on the chair in a fetal-curl. Her face was towards me. Her hair bent over the back-rest of the chair, hanging almost the whole way down to the ground. I knew I couldn=t make her laugh, so I sang for her.

My partner use to sing before he slept. He would sit on a log in front of our fire. I would usually be done away in a sleeping bag. I never sang that song before, though I memorized it from listening all those nights. Some nights, when he didn=t sing, I rolled and moved, the cold or the fear of bugs keeping me up.          
AYour mystery,@ I began to sing in whisper, starring at sleeping Lady, the soft pulsations of my body burning in her oven and glowing on her face.
AYour mystery. Man=s tyranny. His thoughts, taking him across, your mystery.@ I pictured my partner sitting over the fire, singing and poking a stick at the burning logs. My partner was so wise, though he never gloated. I met him, once a confident man of my own. Traveling with him sank my ego. I saw that, as he was an example to me, I had so much to learn. He always went against things. We never walked along a river, but in the opposite ways they flowed.
AYour mystery. We know more of the stars than, your mystery.
The deepest waters of your misery.
The deepest waters of your mystery.
Your mystery. Man=s tyranny. His selfish mind, taking him beyond, your mystery.
Your mystery. Put me to sleep. Drown me in, your misery.
The deepest waters of your misery.
The deepest waters of your mystery.
          Your mystery. I=m closer to your mystery. Living here with you, and your mystery.
The deepest waters of your misery.
The deepest waters of your mystery.@

Next thing I knew it was that damn, good for nothing, annoying, cloudy-white glare on my eyes. I turned my face away. Lady stood by the oven, not lit. She saw my movement and gave me a smile.
AHikin=-Man,@ she said and walked over to me.
ALady,@ I said. She laughed and put her hands through her tangled hair.
AWhy am I Lady?@
AWhy am I Hikin=?@
AA good one. Why are you?@
AI was always followin= someone.@ I pulled my arms but I felt no arms to be pulled. I looked at my waist and a rope was bound around my body, wrapped several times. The rope wrapped around me and a then a few times around the bed.
She knelt down to my level. She rested her chin in her arms. I could barely see the corners of her lips rise above the soft, peach skin of her arms. AWho will you follow now?@
AI think it=s best for my sake to lay here and follow sleep.@ I closed my eyes and kept smiling.
AI am so sorry, funny Hikin=-Man.@ When she said funny, I opened my eyes. She scooted her smile closer to me. AI don=t have anymore tomato soup.@ Her smile turned to shame, a straight line that was her lips.
ADon=t you worry, pretty Lady. I will hike to a grand field of tomatoes. I will pluck the fattest ones. I=ll steal eggs from their mother=s.@
AOh, you=re terrible,@ she added.
AI=ll hike to China, take their rice.@

ANo. Not the hard working farmersY@ she laughed.
AThen I=ll teach you how to  home-cook some real tomato that=s good to sleep forever for.@
AYou=re so funny, Hikin=Man.@ She stretched her neck. She let her smiling lips hover inches from mine. We laughed with each other. We were smiling as we kissed. She brushed the hair above my forehead.
She stood and walked over to the oven, opened the door and adjusted the ashes and crisp objects with a stick.
AI=ll need to get the fire going again,@ she said. She went into the room of mystery, came out with her double-edged axe.
AMy heart will burn for you, Lady.@
AYou ain=t got any killers? Do you?@ she asked. I laughed. She walked toward me, smiling. She raised the axe above her head, the metal of the heads almost grazing the ceiling of logs. When her smile disappeared, I turned my face to the window. A cloud, glowing that damn, eerie haze, unleashed the sun as the cloud crept away. The sun glared incredibly. I felt its heat on my eyes, my face. Then the burning erupted from my chest. The sun=s light swayed left and right. AHe=s pinned!@ It was hard to breath. I felt like I starved myself. AHe=s down there!@ The light stopped jerking around and centered on my eyes. AThere! Get him out of there!@ I felt the weight on my chest as if she sat on me. ATake my heart for warmth, Lady,@ I whispered. I coughed and my ribs ached. It was a stomachache in my chest. AHe=s moving.@

I must have hiked for those tomatoes. I felt I was about to meet perpetual sleep. This one time I did not follow my partner, I followed my illusions to a Lady truer to my dreams than my ambition to know nature. Among Lady and not my hiking partner, I felt out of place. I felt like I was trying to hike the ocean floor. I heard once that they know more about the stars than the ocean=s depths. I felt proud that I was where few have been, maybe none, smiling on my deathbed.