walking toward the tree, cussing us out nonstop, a couple of chicks on horseback came wading along the river’s edge. There was nothing but open land between him and his pants, so he had no choice but to head back into the water.”
Todd laughed out loud when he added, “I’ll never forget the hilarious sight of him turning around in panic and running back into the river, holding on to his junk!”
Tala told her prank tale of having sewed up her home-economics teacher’s jacket sleeve so that the lady’s arm got stuck when she tried to don the garment. This was no news to me; I had heard the story before.
Jacob tried to get more mischievous stories from the group but the subject had run dry. The serious Yon stated, “I don’t do pranks; that’s for children.” His wife nodded in agreement. London said, “Count me out too,” and Derek commented, “We see a lot of weirdoes coming into our shop, trying to sell or pawn all kinds of bizarre stuff, but I can’t think of a prank off hand.”
Curtis said, “Oh, I remember something I did for a joke once. It wasn’t exactly playing a prank on any one person, but it was hilarious. I taped magnets to the bottom of my coffee cup, put it on the roof of my car, and drove around town. When other drivers or pedestrians pointed frantically at the top of my car, I smiled and did the Queen Elizabeth wave.”
His brother rolled his eyes and remarked, “That is just the kind of dumbass thing you’d find funny.”
Before the brothers got a chance to be at each other’s throats again, Jacob intervened. Looking straight at me, trying to butter me up, he coaxed, “Come on James. Let’s hear it from you, the ultimate story teller!”
I wasn’t in the mood and shook my head.
“Come on, be a good sport,” he insisted, and I gave in.
I said, “I agree with Yon, playing practical jokes is for kids. My tale is not about me being the prankster, but about others playing a prank on me. It happened at Boy Scout camp when I was 12 years old. One night, I woke up in panic out of a deep sleep, but it was too late. I had already peed in the bed. To my horror, several of my fellow scouts stood by my cot, laughing their heads off. Later, one of the boys admitted that they’d waited until I was sound asleep, then dipped my fingers into a bowl of warm water, making my muscles relax so that I had let go. To this day, I fight going to sleep when hearing running water, or even when just thinking of water.”
Someone said, “Good luck with the stream up here!”
The campfire gathering soon broke up, and we made sure that the fire was completely extinguished before turning in. It was too dark and too late to wash dishes; Jacob and Marcelo left them to do first thing in the morning.
CHAPTER 9
Snug inside our sleeping bags that first night, Tala remarked, “That was the best prime rib I’ve ever tasted!” And after a pause, “Let’s volunteer to cook the spaghetti dinner tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
Then she said, “What an eclectic group of people we are!”
“That’s not surprising, considering we live in Southern California and are used to mingling with folks from all walks of life.”
She snickered and said, “We may be an interesting bunch, but I doubt that Marcelo will get his ‘American experience’ out of us! And Curtis sure has a short fuse. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”
“Both brothers are temperamental and seem to have a sibling rivalry,” I said.
“Hush, listen,” Tala whispered.
A female voice with perfect pitch rang out from the tent next to ours. The sound was sweet and clear as a bell. We listened spellbound to the unusual melody and the foreign words.
When the singing stopped, Tala said, “How lovely! That must have been Min, singing a Korean lullaby to Mikey. The Kims sure are a dignified couple and their little boy is sweet. Did you see how the dog immediately took to him?”
“I did.”
She was quiet for a couple of minutes and then said, “Some of the prank stories were entertaining. I especially enjoyed listening to Marcelo. He is a good story teller. I didn’t care for Candie’s, though. Too spiteful for my taste.”
There is no cattiness in Tala, so I was surprised when she continued, “That woman is full of herself and thinks she can get her way by batting her eyes and tossing her blonde mane simply because she is Candie Valentina.”
“Seems to work for Todd and Marcelo,” I said.
“I can understand it in Todd’s case, but what could a brain like Marcelo and her possibly talk about?”
I said, “Get real! He may be majoring in physics, but I doubt he’d be interested in discussing the quantum theory.”
“The attraction must be strictly physical.”
“Good guess, Tala, considering that he is a 21-year-old male with hormones at their peak.”
She ignored my sarcasm and continued, “And did you see what Candie was wearing?”
As a writer I try to notice detail, but, like most men, fail to pay attention to clothing. I admitted, “No.”
“Well, let’s just say that her outfit was by no means appropriate for camping.”
I changed the subject and remarked, “I had an interesting talk with London. I never gave much thought to ghostwriting, but she made me aware that the job can be interesting and fulfilling.”
Tala remarked, “Hannah sure is protective of her. Did you see how she pounced on Curtis when he made that silly comment to London?”
“I would react the same way if he’d try to hit on you.”
“I can take care of myself, thank you! And what he said can hardly be called ‘hitting on her.’ He just tried to be funny.”
“He’d better watch his mouth in the future, though.”
There was a long stillness again, then she suddenly said, “You never told me that you were a Boy Scout nor the rest of that episode.”
“Oh, I wasn’t a Boy Scout and the peeing in my bed thing never happened. I made it all up since I’m better at telling fiction than true stories.”
Tala giggled and said, “You were the real prankster tonight, fooling everyone!” Then she said, “It’s been a long day. I’m bushed,” kissed me good night, zipped her sleeping bag up to her neck, and was gone in a matter of seconds.
I wished that sleep could have come that easy to me. It may have been the heavy meal, or the way fragments of the day’s events popped into my mind, it certainly was not the distant sound of the creek - - after all, I had made the running water thing up - - but I spent another sleep-deprived night for the second time in a row.
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