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Trail angel: someone, usually a non-hiker, who helps a hiker on the trail by giving a hiker a ride, food, gear, money, a place to stay for the night, or just a helping hand out of the goodness of their own heart without any expectation of pay or compensation.
2015, Hot Springs, North Carolina, United States
40 days.
That’s how long Aarush Rayasam had gone without his husband William, and that, more than the weather and his gear, was weighing him down. It had been a sunny morning, but now it was raining. The rain splattered on Aarush’s raingear as he trekked on the quiet North Carolinian road to the town of Hot Springs. With the prospect of a well-deserved zero-day ahead of him away from the Appalachian Trail, melancholy for missing William was starting to settle in. The trail was distracting, but now that he was off it, he didn’t have to concentrate as much, and William was on his mind.
When Aarush told William a year ago that he wanted to travel to the other side of the world to hike a trail in a foreign land, William immediately began to research. Aarush had already hiked many trails in the UK. He’d even been able to hike in the Himalayas three years ago by accompanying a friend who was visiting her family in a small Nepalese village for the first time since she was eighteen. William was not as avid a hiker or traveler as Aarush, but he supported Aarush’s wanderlust with enthusiasm.
On the road close to Hot Springs, rain slipped into Aarush’s eyes, and he blinked the water away. The rush of rain and his blurred vision made the appearance of the pale blue truck that drove past him in the rain a complete surprise. He gasped, startled, and watched with trepidation as the pale blue truck screeched to a halt ahead of him, the back taillights glowing a deep red in the hazy fog.
Then the truck’s backup lights flashed on and the truck slowly rolled backward and pulled up alongside Aarush. The window of the front passenger side rolled down as the truck ground to a halt. “Y’all need a lift to town?” called the flat, almost emotionless voice of a man with an American southern accent from inside the truck.
Aarush hesitated, and as he did, the rain began to torrentially pour so powerfully that it splattered mud all over his hiking boots and bounced off the truck in splatters. “Yes! Thank you!” Aarush said in a rush.
Suddenly, the driver’s door flew open. Aarush heard the thuds of heavy boots. Aarush quickly took in the details of the stranger as he walked around the truck to fold up the roll up cover on the truck bed. He was a young white man, clean shaven, with severely short hair. He was wearing work boots, a staff T-shirt for the same resort Aarush was going to be staying at, jeans, and a bandaid near his hairline. “Let’s get your gear back here,” he said. The rain was soaking through the man’s shirt, into his hair, and a flash of lightning revealed dark circles under his cold ice blue eyes. There was blood under his bandaid. Aarush caught sight of the name sewn into his staff shirt: Tom.
Aarush quickly freed himself from the waist and chest straps of his gear and handed over his backpack and trekking poles. Tom put Aarush’s rain-soaked gear into the truck bed, along with his trekking poles, secured the backpack with bungee cords, and rolled the truck bed cover back down. He motioned for Aarush to get in. Aarush climbed into the truck, pulled on his seatbelt, and stifled a groan as he settled into the seat. It felt good to sit down. Tom stepped up into the truck and closed the door. “Where to?” Tom asked in that same expressionless voice. Rain was dripping down Tom’s face. Aarush didn’t know if Tom noticed.
Aarush pushed back the hood of his raingear. Aarush became hyper aware of the moment Tom froze completely and stopped breathing as Tom stared at Aarush’s face. “Forgive me for being forward,” Aarush said calmly. His heart was pounding. “I will be staying at the resort you work at for two nights.”
Tom tore his eyes away from Aarush’s face and glanced down at his resort shirt. “Is that where you need to head to?” Tom asked. When Aarush hesitated, Tom said, “I can drive anywhere in town, even outside of town, if you need it.” When Aarush didn’t answer for a moment, Tom looked right at Aarush again.
Tom looked like a man who was a second away from giving up.
Tom frowned. Concern, the first emotion Aarush had seen from him, flitted over his features. “You all right?”
Aarush shuddered as a chill rushed through him. “I apologize. I think I may have chilled myself.”
Tom reached for the dashboard to put the heat up a few degrees more. Aarush felt warm air blow on his face from the vents. “That better?” Tom asked quietly.
“Yes, thank you. And yes. A ride to the resort would be splendid.”
Tom put the truck into drive, and they drove towards town. “I’m Tom,” Tom said after a few awkward minutes. “Got a trail name?”
“It is Greenie.”
“Why’s that?”
Aarush grinned and Tom’s icy eyes darted over to look at his smile before his eyes darted just as quickly back to the road. “I own a Greenery back in Crawley, England,” Aarush said. He didn’t tell Tom that his husband owned the greenery too. Aarush didn’t think it would be a good idea to share that detail with Tom.
The rain slowed to a light spritz just as Tom had to stop for a train that rolled through the center of town. Aarush realized that he couldn’t see any stoplights at all except for the red lights of the train crossing. As they continued driving, Tom suddenly slowed down again and came to a stop as a casually loping animal crossed the road in front of them. “Oh,” Aarush said in surprise. “Is that . . . That is not a stray dog.”
Tom shook his head. “Coyote,” he said quietly. Then, almost as an after thought, Tom said, “I saw one this morning in my backyard.”
“They’re smaller than I realized,” Aarush said.
Tom hummed in response, drove forward again once the coyote was off the road, and was completely silent during the rest of the drive.
When they arrived at the resort, a woman that may have been just a few years older than Aarush, dressed in a resort shirt and jeans, walked out to the parking lot to Tom’s truck. “Thank God you’re here early, Tommy John,” she started saying as Tom and Aarush stepped out of the truck. “We’re overrun with hikers and—Lord, what the heck happened to your hair? It wasn’t like that yesterday!” One of her small hands reached for Tom’s hair. Tom’s eyes widened and he flinched back, bumping into his truck with a thud, as she touched his dark hair, but she somehow didn’t notice his panicked reaction. “Oh, your poor, beautiful long hair!” She tsked as she looked at the bandaid. “You nicked yourself too.”
“I’m here to check in,” Aarush interrupted efficiently with a smile.
Thankfully, the woman was distracted by Aarush and Tom was able to step around her in retreat. “Welcome!” she greeted, and she focused her overwhelming hospitality and concern on Aarush. “I’m Bernadette. Welcome to the resort!” Tom wordlessly opened the back passenger door and slung Greenie’s backpack on his back and picked up his trekking poles. They walked into the main house while Bernadette cheerfully told Aarush about all the features of the resort. Aarush checked into the resort and Tom, still carrying Greenie’s gear, walked with him to the cabin Aarush would be staying at for two nights. It had a full bath, a fire ring outside, a TV, a fridge, and a queen sized bed.
“If you need anything, stop by the main house,” Tom said. “I’ll be there till eleven.”
“Thank you very much,” Aarush said with a smile. “And thank you for the ride.”
Tom nodded, his eyes not quite meeting Aarush’s, and stepped out of the cabin without a backward glance.
Aarush stared at the door Tom had exited out of. “That was . . . odd,” Aarush said quietly. He took a deep breath, tried to shake off the unease of the encounter, and began to unpack.
Aarush took a long shower, groaning under the spray in bliss. He brought a load of laundry to the main house. As Aarush sat in the small sitting room while he waited for his laundry, he gave William a call.
“Hello, Love,” came William’s sleepy and deep voice.
Aarush closed his eyes and smiled. “Darling, I miss you,” Aarush murmured.
William chuckled huskily. By the sounds of it, William was getting ready for bed. It had taken a few days for them both to get accustomed to the time difference and a while to figure out the best times to call each other. “Talk to me more about what you miss about me, Love."
“Waking up in the morning with you,” Aarush whispered into the phone. “Gardening with you. Sleeping beside you. Walking the dogs with you.”
“Mmmmm. Tell me more?”
Aarush laughed into his hand. “I miss you desperately, especially when I see roses.”
“Did you see any today?“
“Yes. Deep red ones right here at the resort. They’re lovely. You're lovely.”
William laughed softly. Aarush guessed he was thinking about the first time they met ten years ago at a bar. Aarush had been 45. William had been 36. They’d both gone through enough life experiences that made neither of them feel young any more by the time they were 18, but they’d been told by friends that they flirted with each other like they were young and in love for the first time. That first day they met ended, among other things, with a tipsy trip to the park where they looked at roses.
Aarush spoke a while longer to William in the sitting room at the resort until his husband started falling asleep listening to Aarush’s voice. They whispered goodnights to each other and more endearments till Aarush ended the phone call. Once his laundry was done, he carried it back to his cabin.
Aarush dressed in his violet and turquoise swim trunks, stepped out of his cabin once again, and soaked in one of the hot spring tubs. The tubs were filled with water directly from the mineral hot springs. Aarush had been told that the water had healing properties and he almost could believe it when the warm water soothed the aches and pains from the trail.
As Aarush stepped outside, drying his jet black hair with his towel, he looked up from the gravel path and paused. Tom was standing with a woman in her mid thirties in the parking lot beside a yellow Jeep. She was wearing pearls and a bright pink dress that complemented her blond hair and her complexion. She held out a small cooler by the handle to Tom. “You forgot your dinner again, Tommy,” she was saying.
Tom stared at her in silence numbly.
The woman raised her eyebrows at Tom. “Thomas John,” she said expectantly.
“Thank you, Mama,” Tom said softly as he took the lunch box from her. She looked much too young to be his mother, unless Tom was much younger than he looked.
“You’d lose your nose if it wasn't on your face, Tommy,” Tom’s mother chided fondly. Her eyes shifted over to stare at Aarush as he walked past. Her hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion as she took in his darker features, purple and turquoise swim trunks, and slender figure. Aarush was a grown man, but this woman’s look made Aarush’s skin crawl. The last time Aarush had received a look like that was when he and William were holding hands on the Tube in London. Was he really that transparent?
“Ma,” said Tom in a quiet and sharp voice. Aarush glanced quickly over his shoulder in surprise to see Tom looking at his mother with a frown and an indignant expression. “What are you doing?”
Aarush wrapped his towel around his bare shoulders and retreated to his cabin as he heard the woman speak angrily to Tom, but Aarush did not wait to hear what was said.
1978, Brixton, London, England
Aarush opened his eyes and stared at the faded sheet under his hand. He felt the weight of the blankets on him and the weight of the world holding him down. If he didn’t move, if he went back to sleep, he would forget he was couch surfing on a stranger’s couch. He would forget he wasn’t home. The din of Bangladesh was so loud he sometimes had to sleep with ear plugs in. But at least he’d been home.
Aarush closed his eyes again and heard the noise of footsteps. “Oi.” That voice belonged to Kendrick. Ken for short. “Look, I can’t let you stay another night for free.”
Aarush cracked his brown eyes open to look up at Ken’s face. Ken was so much bigger than Aarush, so much broader. He’d been nice two days ago. He’d offered to buy lunch for Aarush, and groceries, and a place on his couch.
But gratitude had an expiration date.
Ken made an annoyed face and Aarush realized with shame that he was crying. Ken sighed in disgust. “Just be out the door by noon,” Ken said. “Don’t want people wondering what you’re doing in my flat.”
“Ok,” Aarush said.
“Take a shower. Eat. Then leave.”
“Ok.”
Ken left his side and Aarush heard the door to the flat close behind him. “Get up,” Aarush whispered to himself in Bangla. After a moment, Aarush sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. Numbly, he got out from under the blankets and pulled off the too-big, borrowed pajamas. He showered, shaved, slipped into his grungy clothes, and walked out of the flat, making sure it was locked behind him. He didn’t look back.
Aarush had been in London for a month looking for work. It had taken him a few days to get a map, and another few to figure out what it all meant. He realized very quickly that all the English he learned in school couldn’t help him here, so he’d tried as often as he could to visit the libraries so he could study the books there. It barely made a difference.
As Aarush walked, five men walked by. It took Aarush a few seconds to realize all five of them were speaking Bangla.
Aarush whirled around to watch them. “Wait!” he called in Bangla. “Wait! Please!”
The five men turned around to stare at Aarush. They were all in their twenties. Maybe the oldest was in his thirties. “What is wrong?” one of them asked, his face guarded, and Aarush imagined what he looked like. They must have thought he was a pickpocket. The assessment wasn’t far off. Aarush had picked exactly one pocket since he arrived in London. When he saw the family photos hidden in the folds of the wallet, the guilt made Aarush’s whole body feel like lead. He had thrown the wallet into the Thames after he took what he needed from the wallet.
“I have no place to stay and I don’t know English well,” Aarush said quickly, the Bangla rushing out of him, and it felt so good to speak to someone in his own language that he felt tears in his eyes. He rubbed at his face in frustration with a shaking hand. “I can clean. I-I can cook. I can do chores. A-and I can—I need a place to stay. I’m trying to find a job.”
Four of the five men turned to one man, their eyes questioning, and Aarush realized this man, the shortest and oldest of the five, must have been their leader. Aarush stood stiff under the assessing eyes of this man. Then the man said in English, “Ok.”
The tallest of the group swore. “Ekraj!” he protested, and then in English he said, “We don’t know this person. He’ll rob us blind.”
“I not,” Aarush said in broken English. “I not rob. I need . . . I do anything.”
Ekraj’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t promise that,” he said in English.
“Then tell me what I can promise so I can get off the street for at least a week,” Aarush said quickly in Bangla in frustration and desperation. But Ekraj stared at him as if he hadn’t said anything at all. Aarush frowned. “What can do?” Aarush asked in English. “What can I do?” Aarush corrected himself when Ekraj’s eyebrow arched expectantly.
“Follow us,” Ekraj said, beckoning with a hand.
Aarush hesitated, and when Ekraj began to walk again, his back turned to Aarush, his friends followed. After another moment of hesitation, Aarush followed.
Aarush could smell the Bangladeshi restaurant before he saw it. He could smell curry, and it overwhelmed the scent of smog. They walked towards the side door. Ekraj turned towards Aarush and held the restaurant door open for him. Aarush stared inside.
“We all work here,” Ekraj said, and this time he spoke in Bangla. “It is my family’s business.” Ekraj nodded to his friends. “I hired them. We work together. Pay rent together. We even go to the same University. Help clean dishes today.”
Aarush hesitated one more second before he stepped through the door.
2015, Hot Springs, North Carolina, United States
Aarush woke up so caught up in the residual despair from the memory that he thought he was couch surfing again and Ken, the man who’d offered him a place for the night, was about to ask him to pay up or get out.
But Aarush opened his eyes and saw the sheets of the cabin’s queen-sized bed and heard the drone of a lawnmower and knew that Ken and the last couch he ever had to surf on was 37 years behind him.
Aarush rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes again. It’d been three years since he dreamt of his month of homelessness in London. Why was he dreaming of this now?
Aarush sprawled there for a few minutes listening to the birds and to the sound of the lawnmower. “Get up,” Aarush whispered in Bangla.
Aarush sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes. He stood up and looked out the window. Tom was busily mowing the lawn, wearing shorts, a green baseball cap, and his staff shirt. He was focused on his task with his eyes on the lawn.
By the time Aarush dressed for the day and walked around the resort to look at the flowers, it was lunch time. Aarush walked to the nearest café, an establishment that sat right on the waterfront of the French Broad River that ran right through town. He ordered collared greens and catfish and ate it while reading a book on his phone as he watched the rushing of the river outside the window.
“Are you a thru-hiker?” asked his server, a woman in her forties named Beth.
Aarush smiled up at her. “Yes, I am. Did my accent give me away?” He knew his appearance more than anything else said he was not from around here. Aarush hadn’t seen another Asian person since Tennessee, on or off the trail.
Beth laughed. “Your appetite did. You’re nearly done with that,” she said with a nod to Aarush’s plate. “Want dessert? It’s on the house.”
“Really?” Aarush said with a surprised smile. “No, I wouldn’t want to impose or—”
“Nope. On the house, honey.”
“Thank you!” Sometimes, there were perks to looking and sounding like you didn’t belong somewhere.
After Aarush ate dessert, his mood improved dramatically and he was humming under his breath as he explored the town of Hot Springs. He visited gift shops. He bought a necklace of pukka shells and visited a post office to send William a postcard along with the necklace. He’d been sending gifts home to William ever since he started the hike, and every time he sent a gift, William would call and say, “Love, save your money! How much was this?”
Aarush dutifully kept his gifts inexpensive, but he knew despite William’s protests that William loved every one of them. Aarush’s last gift for him had been a magenta scarf, and William posed in a selfie with their two Irish Setters with the scarf around his neck, looking cool and dashing and beautiful in the sun. He was wearing a set of his favorite sunglasses. The dogs were wearing sunglasses too.
Aarush wandered to the river shore. People were swimming in the water. He took off his crocs and put his feet in the cool water. He took pictures with his phone.
As he was heading back into town, he saw a sign on someone’s lawn. “Purple Tent for ten bucks! Speak with me inside!” Aarush blinked at the sign and then at the door of the small ranch-style home. Aarush already had a purple tent, but the zipper was getting a bit rough from wear. Aarush walked up to the door and knocked.
After speaking with the seller, Aarush was walking back to the resort with a barely used violet-purple tent to replace his current tent. When Aarush was a few yards from his cabin, he saw Tom sitting beside his lawnmower at a picnic table. He was wiping the sweat off the back of his neck with a navy blue handkerchief. His tired eyes were staring with a faraway expression at the grass. In the sunlight, Tom didn’t look as imposing as he had in the torrential downpour of the day before. He looked lonely.
Aarush made up his mind and walked over to Tom across the freshly mowed lawn. “Good afternoon,” Aarush called.
Tom didn’t look up. His eyes were still on the grass, lost in thought. Aarush waited for a moment awkwardly and stepped back to give Tom some space. Aarush’s movement made Tom’s head snap up and his eyes widened with surprise. “Oh,” Tom said. “Do you need anything?” Tom asked. His voice was professionally friendly and a little less emotionless than the day before.
Aarush smiled warmly and Tom’s eyes darted to Aarush’s mouth before he looked away. “No. I have just returned from a trip to town.” Tom nodded and looked at the tent Aarush was carrying and seemed fixated for a moment on the violet color. “I was drawn immediately to the hue,” Aarush said, patting the tent. “It reminds me of violets and flowers.”
Tom continued to look at the violet color of the tent in silence. Then he looked back up at Aarush. The corners of Tom’s mouth lifted in a small smile. Aarush couldn’t help but stare. That smile hadn’t been there the day before. Even though it was small, the smile transformed Tom’s whole face and lit up his blue eyes, slightly thawing the coldness there. “Yesterday in the truck you said you owned a greenery?” Tom asked curiously.
Aarush was surprised Tom remembered. “My specialty is sunflowers.”
Tom’s smile grew a little bigger. “Do y’all eat the sunflower heads?”
“I beg your pardon?” Aarush said, and Tom laughed. He’s lovely when he laughs, Aarush thought in disbelief.
“Sunflower heads,” Tom insisted, still smiling. He took off his green ball cap to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his handkerchief. He had a new bandaid on the cut near his hairline. He put his ball cap back on. “You can grill them up and eat them like corn on the cob. My Auntie Beatrice owns a small greenery a few miles from the trail and she grills up sunflowers every summer. She started up the greenery when she stopped trucking for a living.”
“Did you grow up here?” Aarush asked curiously.
“Born and raised here in Appalachia,” Tom said with a proud nod, patting the ground with his booted foot. “It’s a small town here, but it’s got good people. I’m gonna assume that you’re a thru-hiker hiking the Appalachian Trail.”
“And what gave you the impression that I was hiking the Appalachian Trail?” Aarush asked with a grin.
Tom grinned back. “Not much for a tourist from the UK to do in Hot Springs other than sample our mineral water and hike the trail.”
“Yes, the plan is to hike all of the trail. Have you ever hiked it?”
“Parts of it,” Tom said. “It’s literally my backyard. I’ve never hiked the whole thing though. Maybe . . . maybe one day I’ll hike it.” After a small silence, Tom asked curiously, “Did you schedule a resupply run with anyone yet?”
“Oh!” Aarush said. “No, not yet.”
“Would you like a ride to Walmart?” Tom asked. “Or somewhere else? I’ve got the rest of the day off after I put this away,” Tom added with a wave of his hand to the lawnmower.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Tom pushed the lawnmower into the shed and Aarush helped him carry grass bags. Then they drove to the market.
1980, Brixton, London, England
Aarush sat cross-legged on the floor of his flat and put the two pizza boxes he was carrying on the floor. “I brought pizza,” he said with a grin.
Mohamed groaned. “Pizza? From where?”
“That Italian place on the block near the grocer,” Aarush assured with a smile as he handed out the mismatched plates to his flatmates. “I remember the other one gave you heartburn.”
“Shut up,” Mohamed chided, even as he gave Aarush a grateful smile.
“Pizza will not blend well with the curry,” Biharilal muttered.
“What? Yes, it will,” Virang argued, and he began to dig a large spoon into the rice.
Subhash flipped open one of the pizza lids and smiled. It was a pizza with tomato sauce. anchovies, and spinach but no cheese. “Thanks, Aarush,” Subhash said thankfully.
“What’s your contribution?” Mohamed asked Ekraj as Ekraj walked over to them.
Ekraj set down a six-pack of Kestral lager on the coffee table and the five men seated on the floor cheered. Aarush scooted over so Ekraj could sit beside him and felt a happy flush on his face when Ekraj’s shoulder bumped his. It may have been love. It may have been hero-worship, but Aarush didn’t remember meeting a man as wonderful as Ekraj in his whole life.
While a football game was playing on their tiny television, Aarush sipped some Kestrel, took a bite of pizza, and listened to his flatmates speaking in English, and only English, around him. When the clock struck 8 o’clock, the six of them switched to fluent Bangla. It was a rule they all kept in the flat. Odd hours were spoken in English. Even hours were spoken in Bangla. And if someone was practicing another language, they designated a few hours of their day to practice it. Aarush had been frustrated when he started living in the flat with that rule, but he soon realized just how important it was to keep that rule. It made learning practical English faster for him.
Aarush was happily dipping a slice of cheese pizza into his curry, much to Biharilal’s utter disgust, when Aarush paused and just listened to the voices of his roommates. The flat wasn’t ideal. It was crowded. The neighbors smoked. It had taken months for Aarush to fully trust these men. They knew some of the things he’d had to do to survive. They’d heard enough of his shouts during terrible nightmares to guess. None of them shamed him for it and none of them took advantage of him. They all worked together to pay for this flat, worked at the restaurant, and supported each other in school. Aarush hadn’t seen his biological family in two years since they disowned him, but he had a new family now, all because Ekraj had taken a chance on him.
2015, Hot Springs, North Carolina, United States
Instead of just dropping Aarush off by the doors of the supermarket, Tom parked his truck and walked inside with Aarush.
Several people called out to Tom. Most of them called him Tommy John, or Thomas John. Someone who Aarush realized was an elementary school teacher of Tom’s called him “Tommy,” and Aarush watched some of the light from Tom’s eyes fade at the sound of the name even as he put on a false cheerful smile.
A young man who looked like he’d spent most of school playing American Football was cutting up slices of roast beef at the deli. When he saw Tom, he whistled and shouted, “Is that Gaudet!? Shit, I haven’t seen you since graduation, Mr. Valedictorian! Git over here! Where’d all that gorgeous Fabio hair go off to?” Aarush learned his nickname was Buck. Buck greeted Aarush with a hearty handshake, and Tom spent a few minutes speaking to Buck before getting a friendly pat on the back from Buck as they parted ways.
As Tom and Aarush walked through the aisle where the flower wraps were, Aarush said, “You have many names.”
Tom smiled slightly. “Comes with the territory of living in the South,” he said. “‘Tom’s’ all right but . . . I like ‘Gaudet’ too. It’s my last name. Wanted to be called that in elementary school, but most of the adults wouldn’t call me that.”
“Then is it all right to call you Tom?” Aarush asked with concern.
Tom looked at Aarush in surprise and smiled. “Yeah, ‘Tom’s’ all right.”
When they got to the checkout, Tom immediately stepped up to the register and pulled out his card from his wallet. “Oh my,” Aarush said in surprise. “No, you don’t have to—”
Tom shook his head and Aarush saw another small smile on his face. “It’s expensive hiking the whole trail. Let me take care of it, Greenie.”
Ever since Aarush had dragged himself out of poverty, he’d been proud that he could pay for his own groceries out of pocket. Accepting help didn’t come naturally to him because part of him still felt like he was still paying back the friends he found in London when he was young and alone. He took a deep breath. “Yes. Thank you,” he said quietly.
After Tom paid for Aarush’s supplies, they carried the groceries back out to Tom’s truck. Tom picked up a CD case from the center console. “Want to listen to some music?” Tom asked Aarush. “It’s Garth Brooks.”
Aarush smiled. “You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t know who that is.”
Tom’s eyes widened and he gasped and put a hand over his chest. “Be still my beating heart, you don’t know who Garth Brooks is? Have to fix this now.” Quite suddenly, the color drained from Tom’s face and he blinked hard as if waking up from a nightmare. “Don’t have to fix that,” Tom said quietly, but Aarush didn’t know if he was talking to him or to himself. “You’re all right.”
“I’d love to hear Garth Brooks,” Aarush said.
Tom pushed the CD into the slot and they were both serenaded by Garth Brooks and country music as Tom drove Aarush back to the resort. Once again, Tom drove in complete silence as he stared at the road.
2005, Brixton, London, England
Aarush stepped into the Bangladeshi restaurant and smelled spices, food, and smoke, and he saw Ekraj busily speaking to one of his young employees. Aarush did not know the young man’s story, but something about the thinness of his face and the careful, guarded look he gave everything made Aarush remember himself at that age. Even in his sixties, Ekraj had no children and no wife. He confessed years ago to Aarush that though his family pushed for him to marry, he had enough family and did not feel the urge to have a wife or anyone. Ekraj had helped five young, lost men earn a living and survive university. Those same five men were still a huge part of Ekraj’s life. Mohamed, Virang, Biharilal, and Subhash had wives and children of their own, and Ekraj and Aarush were honorary uncles for all of them.
“You did a good job warning the patron about peanuts when you saw her medical bracelet,” Ekraj said to his employee in English. “Do not take it out on yourself that they were angry and left because their bracelet was for diabetes. We have a warning, as you know, on all our menus about allergies and our ingredients, but giving a reminder when you see a medical bracelet was a good idea.”
The young man looked down at the floor with embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said.
“You did what I would have done. There is no need to be sorry. All right?”
“Yes, Mr. Mitra.”
“Take a break, cool down, and eat something.”
The young man nodded and walked back to the kitchen. Ekraj watched him go. Ekraj rarely smiled, but Aarush could see a small smile there on his stern face, and that smile grew slightly bigger when he noticed Aarush watching. Aarush grinned and felt a little flame of warmth in his chest.
27 years later and even at the age of 45, Aarush still loved and secretly hero-worshipped Ekraj Mitra, this man who saw something worthwhile in eighteen-year-old Aarush when Aarush had nowhere left to go. Ekraj walked over and gave Aarush a hug. “You must meet someone,” Ekraj said immediately in English as they sat down together at a table.
Aarush laughed. “Mohamed, Subhash, Virang, and Biharilal are usually the ones who try to matchmake for me. Not you.”
“I had a customer here yesterday,” Ekraj continued without acknowledging Aarush’s playful insult. “He’s in the Botany graduate program. His name is William. He’s originally from Jamaica. He was writing an article for a queer online magazine about gender roles and expression in British society and how they influenced their colonies. It was during lunch break. I took it with him. I asked for his number and contact information.”
Aarush stared at Ekraj. “You are serious.”
Ekraj cleared his throat. The usually unruffled Ekraj unfolded the red cloth napkin on the table and folded it again. “I had to explain that the contact information was not for me,” Ekraj admitted, and Aarush laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth and stifle his laughter so he wouldn’t disturb the other guests at Ekraj’s Bangladeshi restaurant. “Speak about this to no one,” Ekraj pleaded in his calm voice, and Aarush struggled to breathe as he held in more laughter.
2015, Hot Springs, North Carolina, United States
Aarush, back in his cabin, was surrounded on all sides by his gear strewn in an organized chaos on the floor. The food from his resupply run with Tom had carefully been unpackaged and then repacked. His clothing was folded and he was carefully slipping them into large ziplock bags so they didn’t get wet if his backpack was soaked.
When Aarush finished packing up his gear, he headed to the bonfire and cookout the resort was hosting. A mandolin, banjo, fiddle, and guitar quartet were playing Blue Grass music. Guests were talking to each other while children played games of cornhole. Aarush caught sight of Tom. He seemed to be in charge of keeping the bonfire lit.
Aarush stacked his plate with corn, ribs, and chips and ate it all at one of the tables. He was immediately greeted by several other resort guests and asked where he was from. Aarush engaged in polite conversation between bites of food. When he finished eating and threw out his trash, he realized that throughout that whole night he hadn’t seen Tom touch any food. Perhaps he likes corn, Aarush thought, and went back to the food to get a bottle of water, a small condiment-sized cup of butter, and two ears of corn for the busily working and focused Tom.
“I did not know what else you liked besides corn,” Aarush said as he approached Tom.
Tom repositioned a burning log in the bonfire with a long stick he kept dipping into a bucket of water, and then looked up at Aarush. Then Aarush realized how strange this was. He was a stranger arriving with gifts of corn and water and Tom did not know him, not really. But Tom smiled at Aarush. “I love corn,” he said.
“Are you able to take a break?” Aarush asked with concern. “You have been supervising the fire all night.”
Tom looked over at the fire. “Yeah, I can,” he said, and accepted the corn. “Thanks. Aw, you even got me butter!”
Aarush laughed. “Again, I did not know what you actually preferred, but I remember our conversation about sunflowers earlier today.”
“This is . . .” Tom stared down at the food with a small smile. His face looked a bit pink. “Thanks.”
Tom ate his food while Aarush kept watch over the fire, and when Tom needed to tend to it, Aarush held Tom’s plate.
“Tommy John!” Bernadette called as she walked over towards them with a smile. “Oh! Hi there, Greenie! You haven’t heard Tommy John sing yet, have you?”
“No, I have not,” Aarush said with a curious look at Tom.
“I’m minding the fire,” Tom said in excuse.
Bernadette laughed. “I’ll mind it. You go sing.” She patted Tom on the back. This time, Tom didn’t flinch. “Show them non-Appalachian folks how it’s done.”
Tom walked up to the quartet. He put on a charming smile and motioned over to Bernadette, who waved at them. There was a small discussion, and then the quartet started performing a solemn-sounding song called, “Green Grows the Laurel.” Aarush had thought the song was purely Irish. To hear the song here in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina felt surreal.
The soaring and rumbling baritone voice that came from Tom reverberated around the gathered guests at the resort. Even the children stopped in their playing to listen. His voice was perfect for this song. It sounded just as heartbroken and world-weary as the narrator of the song.
And Aarush was distinctly aware that Tom used “he” and “him” when referring to the “sweetheart” of the song. But “Green Grows the Laurel” was sung in many different ways, with many alternative notes and lyrics, and the fact that the sweetheart in this version was a man, being sung about by a man, was not really noticed by anyone but Aarush.
“I once was as happy as the red blushing rose,” Gaudet sang in the last verse, his eyes closing. “Now I am pale as the lily that grows, like the tree in the garden with its beauty all gone. Can’t you see what I’ve come to from the loving of one?”
There was cheerful applause after the song drew to a close, and Tom and the quartet performed several more songs. By the fifth song, Aarush checked the time. If he wanted to get an early start at leaving in the morning, he’d need to sleep soon.
Aarush spent one more moment watching Tom perform. Tom had a charming smile on his face, but his eyes were still shadowed, and he seemed just as pale as the lily in “Green Grows the Laurel.”
Feeling unsettled, Aarush walked back to his cabin.
2005, Brixton, London, England
Aarush was early when he arrived at the pub in Brixton. He was only able to nervously check his watch twice before the most beautiful man he had ever seen walked into the bar. Aarush sat up straighter. Aarush recognized William from the picture Ekraj showed him. He was lovely. He wore a sheer purple scarf around his neck and tucked into his coat. He had a short afro, eyeliner around his dark and observant eyes, and a bit of red lipstick on his full lips. There was a watchful look on his dark face as he observed the people sitting in the bar. When William caught sight of Aarush, Aarush smiled and waved. William smiled softly and walked over to Aarush’s table. “You must be Aarush,” he said in a melodic voice.
“You must be William. Ekraj said I needed to meet you.”
William smiled again, but it was restrained and small as he took in Aarush’s face, his clothes, his mannerisms with a sweep of his dark eyes. Aarush realized all at once that William was nervous too. He could almost feel it emanating from him. “Ekraj said you are in the botany graduate program and you spoke with him for an hour about gender roles in European colonies.
William laughed. “Oh, yes, that conversation. I was afraid I bored him.”
“No. You had his attention.”
“Ekraj said the two of you are like brothers.”
Aarush smiled down at the table. “Ekraj practically raised me since I was 18 when I was disowned by my family,” Aarush confessed. “And I still feel like he’s raising me sometimes. If there’s such a thing as an angel, Ekraj would be one.”
William’s eyes were wide. “Oh, Aarush,” he said softly in sympathy. He looked like he didn’t know what to say, and Aarush worried that he had said too much about himself much too soon. William reached across the table and gave Aarush’s hand a squeeze. His hand was warm, firm, and smelled like coconut lotion.
While they sipped drinks and listened to music in the pub, they talked about themselves. Aarush did not share everything about his month of homelessness, but William seemed to know what happened to him from the little Aarush said about it. Aarush shared about how he lived with Ekraj and four other Bangladeshi men for all of his years at University till he moved out.
William spoke about himself. William had received a formal education, but at every step, he’d come up against intense hazing and bullying for being his flamboyant, Jamaican, and queer self. Eventually, he stopped caring about trying to fit into a mold because he realized it was impossible. He didn’t fit any mold, and Aarush was instantly attracted to him because of it.
They especially talked about plants. They were on their third drink, moderately inebriated, and they weren’t willing to let the conversation end yet. And when the pub closed, they left the pub and Aarush and William wandered tipsily through the public garden, hand in hand, laughing like they were in their twenties.
“These roses are hybrids,” William crowed and switched directions, gently pulling Aarush along with him. Aarush followed William to a rose bush of beautiful dark red roses. William knelt on his knees and began to gently inspect the roses with careful hands. “They’re lovely!”
Aarush knelt beside him. “You’re lovely,” he said as he gazed at William’s face.
William giggled and kissed the back of Aarush’s hand.
2015, Hot Springs, North Carolina, United States
Aarush trekked with all his gear to the same café he’d eaten at the day before. As he entered the establishment, he looked around. Beth, the friendly waitress he had met before, was not present. Instead, there was a young man of a lithe build wearing a green apron wiping down a table as the bell over the door chimed. He caught sight of Aarush and blushed scarlet. “G-good morning,” he stammered shyly.
“Good morning,” Aarush said with a smile.
“Sit anywhere. I’m Jimmy Ray. We’ll be with you in—” The bell over the door rang. “—in a moment. Gaudet? What . . . what happened?”
Aarush turned and saw Tom standing in the doorway. He was also dressed in a green apron. He wasn’t wearing a bandaid, and Aarush could see a healing scrape near his hairline. Tom walked into the diner with barely a glance at Jimmy Ray. “Nothing happened,” Tom said quietly.
“But—” Jimmy Ray protested softly, his slender hands wringing the dishcloth in his hands. “Gaudet, that looks—”
“Nothing happened,” Tom insisted again, sharply this time. Then Tom’s eyes seemed to grow dull and dark when Jimmy Ray’s eyes widened with hurt. Jimmy Ray nodded, biting his lip, and walked into the back room without another word. Tom watched him go, looking lost. He caught sight of Aarush. “I feel like I see you everywhere,” Tom said, almost tiredly.
“It feels like you work everywhere,” Aarush returned with a cautious smile.
Aarush ordered grits, okra, biscuits, and eggs. Tom, Jimmy Ray, and a few other servers walked around the café serving tables. With each passing minute, Tom looked more and more like he had on the first day Aarush met him, and the insistent feeling that something wasn’t right, that something was very, very wrong kept sending out a distress signal in Aarush’s head.
Aarush looked at his backpack. He had the added weight of two tents in it. He planned to send home his old tent and to keep the new one. He remembered that fixated look on Tom’s face when he saw the violet tent . . .
While Tom was pouring more hot water into his mug so Aarush could steep more green tea, Aarush heard himself ask, “Do you think you will ever hike the AT?”
Tom’s tired, defeated eyes looked up at Aarush. “Sorry?” he asked.
“The AT,” Aarush said, keeping his eyes on Tom’s face and not on the mug Tom was about to overfill. “Do you think you will ever hike the whole trail?”
Tom pulled the pot of hot water away right before he overfilled the cup. “I don’t think so,” Tom said quietly.
“I just bought a new tent,” Aarush said. “I would like to give the old tent away to someone who is planning on hiking the trail. It is a good tent, but I like my new tent more. Would you happen to know anyone who is planning to hike the Appalachian Trail, Tom?”
Tom watched Aarush for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know someone who’s planning to hike the trail.”
After Aarush was done eating, he partially unpacked his bag and retrieved the new tent he found just the other day. Aarush stopped Tom in the middle of the café and passed him the new tent. “It was good to meet you, Tom,” Aarush said.
Tom nodded, but he didn’t look Aarush in the eye. “You too,” he said quietly.
Aarush set off on his trek through Hot Springs and back to the Appalachian Trail. Aarush was not the most religious man, but he sent a prayer up to whatever celestial entity might be listening. He prayed that they might watch over Tom in his time of need.
“Please don’t give up,” Aarush whispered in Bangla.
2014, Crawly, England
The taxi pulled off the main road and Ekraj was riding down a long private road. Mohamed had joked a few times with Ekraj that once Ekraj had realized that William’s father was wealthy and worked for the High Commission of Jamaica in South Kensington, Ekraj should have pretended that yes, he was in fact flirting with William and not trying to introduce his ward, Aarush, to a good man. William came from privilege, did not flaunt it, and drives to Aarush and William’s home in the rural part of Crawly were always a reminder of just how loud Brixton was and how far Aarush had come.
Ekraj thanked the taxi driver and tipped her generously. He walked up to the open front door and heard jazz music and laughter. Ekraj walked inside.
Aarush and William were slow dancing in the middle of their living room. They smiled and gazed into each other’s eyes as they swayed. William was a much taller man than Aarush, not overly broad, and had an elegant grace and style that reminded Ekraj of his own mother. Aarush was slim, barely five foot five, and smiling so big that Ekraj almost couldn’t see the desperate young man Aarush had been all those years ago.
Ekraj never told Aarush that a small part of Ekraj had been tempted to just give Aarush money on that crowded street in London. It would have been more practical and less of a risk if Ekraj had just given him the money Aarush might have stolen from them. After all, Ekraj had four other men he was looking after. This stranger he did not know might bring his found family to harm.
Ekraj thanked Krishna, god of compassion and kindness, every day that he’d made a different choice for Aarush, had risked bringing him to his family’s restaurant where his sisters worked, had brought him back to his flat where his friends slept, and worried for several nights that Aarush would disappear with their belongings and money. But every night, Ekraj heard Aarush cry from nightmares, and every morning Aarush was still there, warily staring at the five other men as if they were loaded weapons and not people.
It was a wonder Aarush trusted men ever again, but gradually he did, and Ekraj ignored the gazes of admiration and attraction Aarush would eventually focus on him. But Aarush was hurt and needed to learn he didn’t have to give himself to someone just because they helped him live for another day. And Ekraj felt no attraction to Aarush. Ekraj had never been attracted to anyone in that way.
Eventually, Aarush developed attraction to other men. There was one young man in university, another one afterward, and then there was a lover, a rugby player, for six years till Aarush walked into Ekraj’s restaurant during lunch hour sobbing because he found his lover sleeping with someone else. When the rugby player had the audacity to sit down in Ekraj’s restaurant a month later, Ekraj still served him, but gave him such a stern and disapproving eye that the rugby player never returned.
Aarush, who struggled for survival all those years ago, who had cried on Ekraj’s shoulder because of a broken heart, was comfortably slow dancing with his soon-to-be husband with his front door wide open.
“You need to keep your door closed,” Ekraj cautioned in English. “What if a wild animal walked in?”
“Ekraj!” Aarush said with a warm, brilliant smile on his face, and strode over to Ekraj to give him a hug. William’s smile was much more reserved, but as Aarush hugged him, Ekraj saw the gratitude and warmth in William’s quiet smile. Ekraj had no doubt that Aarush had told William about his past, and how Ekraj fit into it. William always treated Ekraj with respect, sent him cards on his birthday, and often visited Ekraj without Aarush by his side. It was like having another family member in Ekraj’s ever-growing collection of people Ekraj watched over and could call on when he needed help.
“You must see the greenhouse,” Aarush urged Ekraj. “William is amazing with wedding decorations. It looks so subtle, but so warm.” Aarush set a hand on Ekraj’s shoulder and the two of them walked out to the backyard, William following them after he closed the front door.
2015, Silver Spray Falls, Appalachian Trail, New Jersey, United States
“If I fall, make sure you get a photo of my good side,” shouted Orange over the sound of rushing water as he stood balanced on a sturdy fallen trunk of a giant tree. The Silver Spray Falls was his backdrop. The trunk he balanced on was one of several that had fallen in front of the falls and over the water below.
“Gilligan Montero, don’t you dare tempt fate like that!” Tom hollered.
“Taking the photo now,” Cook called as he took a picture of Orange with his phone. “Ok. You can trip now.”
“That’s horrible, Owen!” Tom cried out as Orange grinned mischievously and carefully made his way off the trunk, down the rocks, and back onto the side path.
Aarush watched the exchange with a smile and laughed softly when Tom gently pulled the hood of Orange’s sleeveless hoodie over Orange’s head. Orange shoved Tom playfully with a laugh. Then Tom, Orange, and Cook crowded around Cook’s phone to see the photo of Orange.
“Secondhand tells me he has you to thank for starting the trail,” Porthos said to Aarush.
Aarush looked at Porthos. “He told you?” Aarush asked. Porthos nodded. “I’m pleased that he had someone he could talk to.”
“He said you helped him when he needed it most,” Porthos said. Aarush must have been making a surprised face, because Porthos smiled. “You probably did it all without realizing how much you helped.”
Aarush glanced back over at Tom and his two very close friends. Even after hiking with Tom for a few days, the sight of the easy smile on Tom's face was astonishing. It had taken Aarush only a few minutes at back in Pennsylvania to realize that this happy version of Tom who laughed freely and joked was the true version of Tom, not the withdrawn version he had met in the pouring rain in Hot Springs.
Aarush geared up and walked over to Tom. Tom was taking a moment to stare in wonder at the waterfall. Tom slung his backpack on and was snapping the chest and waist straps in place when he looked up at Aarush. “Sure you don’t want to get a photo by the falls?” Tom asked.
Aarush smiled. “No, I will not tempt fate.”
“Who said you had to walk up a log to do it?” Porthos said. Then she snapped her fingers at Aarush and Tom. “You two. Stand together in front of the falls. I’m taking your picture.”
Tom heel-toe-heel-toe shuffled sideways on the dirt towards Aarush. Aarush laughed behind his hand as Tom slung an arm over his shoulder. They grinned at the camera, sweat pouring down their faces in the heat.
Porthos sent the picture to Aarush and Tom via text and Aarush immediately sent it in an email to William and Ekraj with the words, “Still hiking with Tom, the trail angel I met from Hot Springs.”
Aarush tucked his phone away into his pocket with a smile.
Then Aarush, Tom, Sine, Tangent, the Musketeers, Orange, and Cook began to hike again on the Appalachian Trail towards New York.