Read Online Everything Beautiful by Simmone Howell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simmone Howell
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pinewood pole and listened to Neville attempting to coax some conversation out of Dylan.
“So.” Neville shook the arm of Dylan’s chair. “Big changes.” He paused for comic timing. “Long hair.”
Dylan sniffed.
Neville adopted an exaggerated macho stance and gave his chair the once-over. “What’s your ride?” He was trying to be cool, but Dylan wasn’t having any of it.
“I could do with some of your hair,” he continued, touching his own head lightly. “I don’t know what God wants with mine, but He seems intent on taking it.”
“Maybe you should get a hat.” Dylan sounded bored.
Neville considered this. “I could,” he said. “I could get a hat. Hats could become my thing. Everyone needs a thing, right?”
Dylan shrugged. There was a long silence.
“What about you?” Neville asked him. “Are you into doing weights? If you are we’ve got some hand weights, barbells … Bibles,” he joked.
Sarita poked me in the ribs. I saw Dylan’s face close up. Fleur and Craig were approaching. They were walking in step and looked like a shampoo commercial, all sun-kissed and leggy and happy. As soon as they saw Dylan they separated. Craig put his hand up for a high five. Dylan ignored it, said something to Neville, and then pushed off back to his cabin. After that no one seemed to know where to look, except for Sarita, who was staring at Craig with such longing that I had to snap my fingers in front of her face.
“We’re going to do a trust walk,” Neville announced. He winked at me and put forth a shoe box. “Pass these around, Riley.” I stared at the box, then my eyes moved up to his badge. He didn’t need a hat—wacky badges were his thing. This one was black and white and basic. I’m into Jesus. I passed the box around while Neville barked, “Grab a blindfold and a partner.” At the sight of the usual suspects clutching to each other, Neville stressed, “I want you to pair up with someone you don’t know very well . Laura, Lisa, come on. Don’t make me ask twice.”
I tried my blindfold on. It worked. I stood absolutely still and listened to the group get its thing together. Bird was humming, Laura and Lisa were pleading with Neville. I could hear shuffling and giggling. I was expecting Sarita to take my arm when I felt a column of warmth at my side. “I saw this in a magazine once.” Craig’s breath in my ear gave me the shivers. Two seconds later someone pinched my arm.
Fleur hissed, “ Sorry .”
I heard Craig trying to appease her. “But Fleur, I know you.” His voice had laughter behind it. Was he laughing at me or Fleur? It was impossible to know.
Neville’s voice rang out. “The game is leader/follower. The leader has to lead the follower around the camp. This is a nonverbal, nonvisual experience. Use your senses to explore the world around you.”
Craig took my hand, and I was acutely aware of how sweaty mine was.
He led me over the plain. I felt spidergrass tickling my bare ankles. Then we were in the scrub, and sticks snapped beneath my feet. I could feel the temperature change when we walked in and out of trees. I had the sense that we were getting farther away from the group. The idea of our seclusion made my temperature soar. The silence was claustrophobic. But it wasn’t true silence—there was still activity and electricity in the air. It made me think of field recordings. I could hear: our footsteps on the hard ground; Craig’s key chain clinking; our breath out of sync; bird calls; insects rubbing their legs together. And all of this was weirdly sexy.
Craig stopped walking and dropped my hand. I felt him come behind me and push me forward. I panicked, thinking I was falling, but then my body bounced against a rope fence. Craig lifted my blindfold. “Look down.”
I looked. Twenty feet below was a gaping hole in the ground. It looked like a giant’s footstep. Or a natural well—only there was no water in there, just dry reddish mud decorated by crazed cracks and
“So.” Neville shook the arm of Dylan’s chair. “Big changes.” He paused for comic timing. “Long hair.”
Dylan sniffed.
Neville adopted an exaggerated macho stance and gave his chair the once-over. “What’s your ride?” He was trying to be cool, but Dylan wasn’t having any of it.
“I could do with some of your hair,” he continued, touching his own head lightly. “I don’t know what God wants with mine, but He seems intent on taking it.”
“Maybe you should get a hat.” Dylan sounded bored.
Neville considered this. “I could,” he said. “I could get a hat. Hats could become my thing. Everyone needs a thing, right?”
Dylan shrugged. There was a long silence.
“What about you?” Neville asked him. “Are you into doing weights? If you are we’ve got some hand weights, barbells … Bibles,” he joked.
Sarita poked me in the ribs. I saw Dylan’s face close up. Fleur and Craig were approaching. They were walking in step and looked like a shampoo commercial, all sun-kissed and leggy and happy. As soon as they saw Dylan they separated. Craig put his hand up for a high five. Dylan ignored it, said something to Neville, and then pushed off back to his cabin. After that no one seemed to know where to look, except for Sarita, who was staring at Craig with such longing that I had to snap my fingers in front of her face.
“We’re going to do a trust walk,” Neville announced. He winked at me and put forth a shoe box. “Pass these around, Riley.” I stared at the box, then my eyes moved up to his badge. He didn’t need a hat—wacky badges were his thing. This one was black and white and basic. I’m into Jesus. I passed the box around while Neville barked, “Grab a blindfold and a partner.” At the sight of the usual suspects clutching to each other, Neville stressed, “I want you to pair up with someone you don’t know very well . Laura, Lisa, come on. Don’t make me ask twice.”
I tried my blindfold on. It worked. I stood absolutely still and listened to the group get its thing together. Bird was humming, Laura and Lisa were pleading with Neville. I could hear shuffling and giggling. I was expecting Sarita to take my arm when I felt a column of warmth at my side. “I saw this in a magazine once.” Craig’s breath in my ear gave me the shivers. Two seconds later someone pinched my arm.
Fleur hissed, “ Sorry .”
I heard Craig trying to appease her. “But Fleur, I know you.” His voice had laughter behind it. Was he laughing at me or Fleur? It was impossible to know.
Neville’s voice rang out. “The game is leader/follower. The leader has to lead the follower around the camp. This is a nonverbal, nonvisual experience. Use your senses to explore the world around you.”
Craig took my hand, and I was acutely aware of how sweaty mine was.
He led me over the plain. I felt spidergrass tickling my bare ankles. Then we were in the scrub, and sticks snapped beneath my feet. I could feel the temperature change when we walked in and out of trees. I had the sense that we were getting farther away from the group. The idea of our seclusion made my temperature soar. The silence was claustrophobic. But it wasn’t true silence—there was still activity and electricity in the air. It made me think of field recordings. I could hear: our footsteps on the hard ground; Craig’s key chain clinking; our breath out of sync; bird calls; insects rubbing their legs together. And all of this was weirdly sexy.
Craig stopped walking and dropped my hand. I felt him come behind me and push me forward. I panicked, thinking I was falling, but then my body bounced against a rope fence. Craig lifted my blindfold. “Look down.”
I looked. Twenty feet below was a gaping hole in the ground. It looked like a giant’s footstep. Or a natural well—only there was no water in there, just dry reddish mud decorated by crazed cracks and
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