(from a novel in progress)
“It’s beautiful,” the woman said as they paddled the brown, still waters of Little Otter Slide Lake. The man lifted his oar and listened to the great rustling nothingness of Algonquin Provincial Park. They hadn’t seen another human in three days: no boats or phones or cars. That’s the way the man liked it.
“Where’s the campsite?” the woman asked.
The man studied his map.
“Let’s go for the one on the other side of the island.”
With the man steering, they rounded the small, rocky island. The sun was just beginning its descent, illuminating the woman’s honey-blonde hair. Somewhere, a loon made its ghastly cry.
They found the campsite—a low, boggy clearing amidst tall pines—and beached their canoe. Here, the water was thick with sediment.
Bad for drinking, the man thought, but good for fish.
They unloaded their things, pulled the canoe ashore, then began looking around. Surrounded by three logs was a well-used fire pit and a pile of fresh kindling.
“Someone must have just been here,” the man said, touching the light, fluffy ash. He stood and looked at the woman he loved who was searching for a level patch of ground for their tent.
“What do you want for dinner?” the man asked.
“Pasta. And we can finish off the cheese. It won’t be much good after tonight.”
“All right.”
The man sauntered off into the thick forest, filling his arms with what wood he could find. The earth was dank, spongy and pockmarked with small pools of stagnant water.
We’re going to be eaten alive out here, he thought as he swatted another mosquito. He could hear the woman whistling as she assembled the tent. This was a perfect idea, the man thought, a perfect way to save our relationship.
He reached to pick up another piece of wood, only to realize that it was a bone.
“Ugh!” he gasped, dropping his pile. Next to the bone was another, then another, and a few metres away he could see a small pile of them: thick bones, thin bones, old splinted bones, and shiny damp ones.
That’s disgusting, he thought as he picked up his pile and returned to the campsite.
The woman looked up from where she was assembling the poles.
“What’s wrong?”
“Goddamn amateurs,” the man grumbled. “Don’t people know that she should pack everything out?”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’ve found the friggin’ barbecue island. There’s a whole pile of bones back there.”
“Bones?”
“That’s what I said.”
“What kind of bones?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to be a real carnivore to paddle in that kind of meat. But they should have burned the damn things. Don’t they know they could attract bears?”
The woman gasped—she was terrified of bears.
“Don’t worry, babe,” the man said grinning. “I’ll protect you.”
“Let’s find another campsite.”
The man looked up at the auburn sky and shook his head.
“No time. It’ll be dark soon.” The man put out his hand to touch the woman and she pulled away. “Listen. We’ll find a new campsite in the morning, all right?”
“I want to go now.”
“That’s not an option. I’ll make you a nice fire and dinner, then we’ll crawl into the tent for the night. After all that paddling, I’m exhausted. And first thing in the morning, we’ll break camp. I promise.”
“All right,” the woman said, letting the man embrace her. “But how do you know the bones weren’t left by bears?”
“Don’t be silly,” the man said, shaking his head.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Listen. There are only black bears here. Black bears are puppy dogs. If we see one, all we have to do is stand together and make a lot of noise. Bears are a hundred times more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The man helped the woman finish the tent, and while she set up their mats and sleeping bags, he made a little tepee of kindling and started the fire. He boiled the pasta, drained it, then mixed in canned tomatoes, field-picked mushrooms, salt, pepper, and what was left of the cheese. They ate their simple meal in silence, keeping close to the fire to ward off the mosquitoes. When they finished, they rinsed their dishes in the lake, put them in the mesh bag, and then used a rope to hoist that and the food bag high into a nearby tree.
“There,” the man said, “we’re safe.”
They stayed by the fire and watched the stars. The man took a small bag of marijuana and a corncob pipe from his bag and said,
“Do you want any?”
“Sure.”
They smoked in silence and the stars became more beautiful, more numerous. A stream of light flicked across the black universe and the woman put her hand on the man’s thigh.
“I’m so glad we did this,” she said. “The city can be so oppressive, but fresh air breathes life into love. You know?”
“I know.”
They kissed and the woman’s fingers traced a delicate path.
“Oh,” the man said.
“Let’s go in the tent.”
They rushed in, zipped the door, and undressed. The night air coming through the mesh felt cool and good on their sweaty skin. They touched, gasped. They did not hear the creature pull itself from the swamp. They did not hear it sloshily trudge towards the tent, feeling their warmth; nor the sound of its mucous drip, drip, dripping from its wide mouth and thorned tentacles. The creature tasted the air, then ripped at the tent. It wrapped a tentacle around the man’s neck, tearing him off the woman, squeezing the life out of him. The woman screamed, but was soon made silent by the tentacle the creature rammed down her throat.
Copyright © 2010 by Daniel Shawn Otis
Do you have issues with women? The past few stories have been hardcore misogynistic (well, just making fun of white, straight women)? Why? Am I not reading your stories properly?
Maybe?
I portray women living in a misogynistic world, forced to confront some pretty terrible men and their desires and expectations.
But does this portrayal make me a misogynist?
You could just as easily say that I depict men as vile and lecherous–inflated with a false sense of themselves; a false sense of control over other people and their universe.
For example, in this story, the woman is meek and the man thinks he is in control of the situation, that he is her protector. Well, in the end, they both get it at the hands (or tentacles) of some creature of the deep.