Work Text:
You feel your eyes growing heavy as the post-lunch food coma sets in. The four-cheese tortellini is doing a number on your digestion, but it was worth it. You’ll need the comfort and calories in preparation for what’s to come. For the second time in the last five minutes, you glance at the clock in the bottom right corner of your second display. At the same time, the messaging app your company uses lights up. It’s your boss.
You straighten out your posture and open your chat history.
Can you send everything over to me again? Call with Cs went past scheduled time.
Also, you should touch base with Lakrissa about transportation for this weekend. Something about an issue with one of the vans the agency was supposed to send over.
Nothing serious, mind. Just may need to do some creative rearranging.
You quickly check the clock again. It’s one o’clock. Work is ending in an hour to allow for the time it’ll take to get to the mountains for this “bonding experience”. They always try to hype up these company retreats every year, but it’s never quite as relaxing or bonding as they claim it will be. After all, the company’s still footing the bill, so it will never be a true vacation in that sense. Fully relaxing is out of the question, no matter how hard your boss tries to insist that he’s “off the clock” for the weekend.
You tried to get out of this year, but when you heard that the location would be one of the nicer glamping retreats up in the mountains, you figured you’d might as well give this one a chance. At the very least, you could escape out to one of the hiking trails. You’ve never actually been glamping before, but you’ve heard good things about this spot. However, due to the price, you would never go by yourself. Splitting the cost would be unlikely as well, since your friends were more interested in all-inclusive tasting tours in wine country than hiking trails in bear country. There was nothing wrong with wine tasting, of course, but after the fourth winery in a row, you find that it starts to get a little repetitive.
In truth, you miss camping, but you wonder if it is starting to lose its magic the older that you get. There was something truly special about camping as a kid, at least as far as your experience went. You were truly free then. Uninhibited. It was just you and the great outdoors. Your worries were limited to poison ivy or stubbing your toe. Your parents were the ones who handled all the preparations, cooking and cleaning. Well, they did still drag you into the last one, but that was manageable. You didn’t have to organize any of the trip, for instance, which was partly why you enjoyed family camping trips so much.
Still, even if you can never experience camping as a kid again, you miss the freshness of mountain air and the distinct, piney smell of the evergreens. It had been, what - more than two years since you last went, and you had to cut it short because a work emergency came up. There just never seems to be enough time anymore. You used to go on solo camping trips all the time during college and into your early twenties. Looking back, you can’t believe you went on so many of those with such naive confidence. With all the true crime podcasts you’ve consumed since then, you’re honestly stunned at the fact that you didn’t end up in more dangerous situations during all those solo adventures.
Corporate life and a numbing weekly routine has made you soft. Perhaps glamping is all you can handle these days. At the very least, it could be a way to ease yourself back into proper tent camping. It might inspire you to plan an overnight trip later in the summer, if you can convince any of your girlfriends to go with you. Yet as you imagine this scenario, it already seems a little out of reach. God knows it’s difficult enough trying to plan a girl’s night out in advance. Everyone is always so busy.
You wrap up the remainder of your work tasks, sending your slide deck and accompanying reports to your boss once more since he’s too lazy to simply run a search in his inbox for your name. You type a quick message reply to say you’ve sent it off before closing your laptop and heading towards reception to find Lakrissa. She’s been running around the office, making last minute preparations, so it just seems easier to try to find her and ask about the transportation situation face-to-face rather than send a message. You follow the sound of what seems like a small commotion outside and see a number of passenger vans already lined up at the curb. Lakrissa is frantically checking a clipboard while trying to type on her phone with one hand.
You try to approach without startling her.
“Lakrissa? Everything okay? Alan told me to find you. Something about seating arrangements for the trip up.”
“Oh gosh . I’ve been too preoccupied with this mess to send out a department-wide message. Looks like we’re a van short for our department.”
“Oh no, what happened?”
“Some mechanical issue with one of them, I guess, so they sent an Escalade instead. Sure, it’s an upgrade, comfort-wise, but because of that, it means we’ll have to do some rearranging since we’re short on seats. I’m going through the list though and it looks like IT has a couple open seats in one of their vans. Would you be okay to ride with them instead?”
“That’s it? Yeah, that’s totally fine. I mean, we’re all going to the same place after all.”
The relief on Lakrissa’s face is palpable. “Right? That’s what I thought. Still, thanks for being flexible. And hey, it gives you a chance to connect with some new people. I think some of the newer hires will be in your van, including that really tall guy.”
“Oh? Which one?”
In truth, it was hard enough for you to keep up with new hires in your own department, let alone a department as large as IT.
Lakrissa laughed. “You know, the one who’s like 6’5'' and built like a rugby player. Longish hair, Britishy accent, though I think he has dual passports or something like that because either his mom or dad is American. I can’t remember which one.”
You grin at her. Clearly, she has been doing some ‘market research’ on this particular new hire. Not for any sort of romantic reasons, mind. As far as you knew, Lakrissa had no interest in the male species. She just enjoyed a little friendly snooping. As one does.
You think for a moment, tilting your head to the side. “The only British guy I know in IT is Gale Dekarios, and he’s not a new hire.”
“Oh right, I kinda forgot about Gale. But no, not him. You would know immediately who I mean - he’s kind of hard not to notice. I didn’t believe at first that he was a project manager - I was sure they’d made a mistake and that he’d be over with us in sales.”
“Ohh, him ,” you say, as the dots finally connect. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen him around, but I don’t think we’ve actually spoken to each other, at least not that I can remember.”
You can’t seem to recall his face, but the physical description rings a bell. You do remember seeing someone rather tall over in IT, but there were a fair number of tall people in that department, and also quite a few gym rats along with the stereotypical idea of what an IT employee might look like. In a company as large as yours, there was bound to be a mix of genders and body types represented. It was easy to just become a number at a place like this, and so many people came and went it would be impossible to try to keep track of them all.
“Well, now’s your chance to properly mingle.” She winked, and you could tell she was holding back from suggesting more. This kind of corporate code-speak was necessary while still on company grounds for HR reasons, but you just knew that if you were out with Lakrissa at a bar, she’d have continued freely without a filter.
You just barely catch yourself before you roll your eyes at her comment. Perhaps there were some benefits after all to being restrained by a mandatory code of conduct.
You gather up your rolling carry-on and well-worn hiking day pack, heading in the direction Lakrissa had indicated. You find the van soon enough, and you are one of the last to be loaded into it. After confirming your seating arrangement with the department head, you head around to the back of the van where you hope you can still find a place for your luggage.
You are intercepted by a very tall, broad shouldered man, who opens one of the van’s back doors before you get the chance.
Ah. Speak of the devil .
This had to be the aforementioned Halsin.
“Let me get that for you, if you don’t mind. It’s a bit of tetris level back here, sorry.”
You hear the accent right away, though you can’t exactly place it. Somewhere in the general vicinity around Northern England and Scotland, perhaps.
“Yeah sure,” you say, handing off your luggage to him but keeping your day pack with you. “But if it’s tetris, wouldn’t the luggage disappear? There’s a completed row at the bottom here.”
He stops for a second, as though momentarily confused, and you start to feel a wave of embarrassment sweep through the pit of your stomach, but then he lets out a quick, hearty chuckle. Even if it was purely out of sympathy, you’re grateful to not be left instead with an awkward pause.
“You’re right. I guess a puzzle box would be a better simile.”
You avoid eye contact with him, but that’s due mostly to the sun shining directly in your face. Shielding your eyes with one hand, you look up at him. He really is an imposing physical presence, considering how you barely come up to his shoulders, but he seems to be aware of this fact, for he doesn’t close the distance between you and waits until you set the luggage down in front of him before he picks it up.
“Did they tell you your seat yet? You should be by the window in the first row. I can handle this, don’t worry. Go get yourself situated. I promise we don’t bite over here in IT.”
He flashes you a teasing grin, which you can only just make out, as the sun is still bothering you.
“Thanks,” you say, side-stepping just an inch so that his towering frame can block the rest of the sun from your eyes. “I appreciate it.”
Now you can finally get a better look at his face. His facial features pair well with his broad frame. He has a strong chin, prominent brow ridge, large nose and a wide-set jaw. He looks to be in his late thirties to mid forties, but it’s hard to tell exactly because his ruddy complexion is accentuated with a fair amount of sunspots and pock marks from old acne scars. His light brown hair is thick and wavy, the length looking like it might reach the nape of his neck, but it is hard for you to tell because he has it gathered into a messy half-back ponytail. His eyes, the only soft feature on his face, are a light hazel. There is a hint of what must be an extensive tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, but you can’t tell much of the design from what you can see.
By all accounts, he’d be considered attractive to the average person, but broad, brick-house built men like him weren’t usually your type. Not that you really had a type these days. And not that it even mattered, since he is your coworker. There is no way in hell you’ll ever make that mistake again. If a man was going to catch your eye, it would be outside of work. And he’d be of the pale, wispy variety with long, spindly fingers. The kind that might be bowled over by a light breeze.
He finds a suitable place to squeeze in your luggage and then holds out his hand.
“I’m Halsin, by the way. We may have met once or twice before, of course, but just in case, I thought I’d introduce myself again.”
You take his hand. His handshake is strong and firm, and you hope your eyes aren’t too noticeably wide as you see your hand become enveloped by his. You try to side-step your mind from going into the gutter as you remember the colloquialism about men with very large hands…
Coworker. He’s your coworker, remember? Don’t be weird.
“Halsin. Gosh, have we met already? My apologies. I’m getting worse with names as each year goes by.” You give him your name in return and then thank him once more before heading into the van.
You see Gale sitting in the row behind you, and you acknowledge him briefly before getting settled in. You’re immediately thankful for the window seat, as it means you’re likely able to sneak in a quick nap on the journey up the mountain. You set your bag on your lap, as the seat next to you is occupied by a small cooler and an assortment of other miscellaneous necessities. The seat next to the door is empty, but you soon find out it is Halsin’s seat when he jumps into the van and slides the door shut.
He turns to you with an expectant look on his face as he tucks back a loose strand of hair behind one of his ears.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I switched seats with you. I find that I get just a bit of extra legroom if I sit by the door.”
You glance down and see that his legs are still very much confined in the small space of the van, but that it would have indeed been much worse on the window side, behind the driver.
“Gosh, yeah, that’s the downside of being tall, isn’t it? I definitely don’t mind the switch at all. I much prefer the window.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He pinches the middle of his shirt and tugs on it back and forth as a means by which to fan himself while the driver is still working to get the inside of the van to a comfortable temperature. You catch a whiff of whatever scent he seems to be wearing, though you cannot exactly determine what it is you’re smelling. It’s certainly no Tom Ford, but you find it pleasant and unassuming – fresh with a hint of earthiness in the bottom notes.
“I like your pack, by the way.”
You glance down at the bag on your lap. “Oh really? Thanks. I think I picked it up ages ago at an estate sale. It’s definitely seen better days, but it’s been with me on some pretty great trips, so I suppose I’ve become a little attached to it. Besides, if it’s not broken, why replace it?”
A wide smile brightens his face, immediately softening all his features. Warm and inviting, it genuinely catches you off-guard, as you certainly weren’t expecting quite this dramatic of a transformation. Not that he had been stern before, but for someone with such a physically intimidating presence, you did not expect to be so disarmed by his smile.
“Brilliant. I feel exactly the same when it comes to material possessions. Waste not, want not. Do you hike a lot, then? I’m quite fond of it myself, but I can’t seem to escape out there as often anymore.”
His voice trails off, and for a fleeting moment you see a deep crease form in his brow, as though he is troubled by this statement. It’s only a glimpse of vulnerability, but you feel yourself perking up. You have finally found something in common to talk about with a coworker that isn’t small talk about the weekend.
“Oh really? I was just thinking the same thing. I used to go hiking and camping quite often, but you know how life gets. And I haven’t been on an overnight trip in ages. How about you? Do you do any backcountry trips or just day hikes?”
“These days, I’m doing more trail riding on suitable weekends instead of day hiking, but when I could get time off, I preferred backcountry trekking. You know, the real remote stuff. No bathrooms, nothing left behind and all that..”
“Camping on hardcore mode, yes. I see. I’ve only done a couple of trips like that and I don’t know if I can hack it anymore. It was a lot of work, even back when I had more energy. One summer in college I did a stretch of the Pacific Crest trail in the Sierras. Now that was intense.”
His eyes widen as he exhales a whistle of approval. “Seriously? That’s pretty incredible. It’s a bucket list of mine to tackle that entire trail. How far did you get?”
“Not as far as I would have liked. God, I got so many blisters that trip because I forgot to bring more than one pair of wool socks. Never again.”
He chuckles and nods his head in understanding. “Valuable lessons of the trail you’ll never forget, no doubt. That’s so impressive, though. Genuinely. Wish I could properly get back into all of that.” He pauses for a moment and then gestures towards Gale in the row behind you both. “I’ve been doing my best to convince this guy to pick up the hobby so he can go with me. I keep telling him the adventure will do him good.”
Gale, who seems to be already preoccupied with a book, looks up a little confused at having been dragged-in mid-conversation. “Sorry, you what now?”
“We’re talking about camping, Gale,” you say. “ Real camping. Not this glamping charade that we’re headed to now.”
“Oh, that. Yes, Halsin won’t stop talking about doing a multi-day trek along the Appalachian Trail. I can’t say I’m convinced yet. Not only does it seem like a lot for a beginner such as myself, but I cannot help but think it conflicts with my philosophy of what makes a good vacation, which in my opinion should be first and foremost about respite instead of what seems like an extension of work itself.”
It’s at this point that you start to regret pulling him into the conversation. You forgot that once he gets going on a topic, it’s hard to get a word in edgewise, but there is nothing you can do about it now until he is finished with his thought.
He pushes up his glasses as he continues, unphased by your blank expression. “When Halsin first broached the topic with me, I went ahead and ordered a few guides on the subject before doing some of my own research on some backpacking enthusiast forums. You should see how many tabs I have filled in my excel document about it. There’s just simply so much to learn and prepare if you’re going to take on such a monumental endeavor. Not to mention all the dangerous wildlife one is likely to encounter. Believe me, it’s not a decision to be taken lightly.”
He finally pauses to take a breath, and you feel as though you’re supposed to be taking notes, but when you look back at Halsin, he seems completely unaffected by Gale’s objections. To your surprise, he simply shrugs.
“I think once you’re there, so long as you have the essentials covered, the wilderness will show you the way, if you are willing to open up your eyes and ears to really observe and listen. There’s only so much you can learn from books, after all. This kind of knowledge is best absorbed by going out there and experiencing it first hand.”
“Well, I don’t know about that approach, either. I think Gale’s right about planning. I would never just jump into a trip without a solid plan. There are, after all, plenty of things that can go wrong when you’re on the trail.”
“Sure, but you can’t plan for it all. You’d never go out if that was the case.”
“Precisely,” Gale says, as though glad to have finally gotten his point across. He goes back to his book, having said his peace.
You shake your head, clicking your tongue. You are convinced that Halsin is yet another man who just seems to have everything work out for him. Or who is just not as experienced as he makes himself out to be.
“I guess that’s where we see it differently, Halsin.”
“I suppose so, but as long as you’re enjoying yourself and still make it back safely, does it really matter how differently we approach the excursion?”
You catch a mischievous sparkle in his eye when he looks back at you, and you slump back into your seat, wondering if you’ve misjudged him after all. As you mull over what he’s said, something else begins to tug at the back of your mind: you feel you no longer need to pass the time going up to the mountain by taking a nap. Something or someone here, rather, has piqued your interest enough to keep you awake.
You arrive at the location just as the sun is starting to make its way down towards the horizon. The soft light of golden hour casts an inviting glow over the entire surroundings, making everything look that much more picturesque. As though on the same wavelength, your coworkers all start to take out their phones in order to capture this moment before it fades. The only one who doesn’t is Halsin, who is simply taking in the scenery with his arms crossed, a serene expression on his face.
Of course . He would be that type. Probably doesn’t have any social media either . He probably thinks he was born in the wrong generation, or something like that.
You can picture it now: he submits a letter of resignation in a year or two because he’s bought some off-grid log cabin in the Alaskan wilderness where he’ll live out his lumberjack dreams.
The size of his arms would certainly give weight to the idea of him moonlighting as a backcountry lumberjack. You were sure that if he did have a profile on one of the dating sites, he’d be showing off his arms in nearly every photo, maybe accompanied also by the fish he just caught in “nature’s pantry.”
God. He would be someone who’d unironically type that out.
As you snap a few shots of the nearby lake and the grounds outside the reception, you wonder how someone like him even wound up working as a project manager in IT for a company as big as yours, and you make a mental note to ask him about this if you end up bumping into each other again during the retreat.
Your musings are soon interrupted though as some of your team members rush over to you, pulling you into their gossip about the ride up as you discuss sleeping arrangements and the weekend itinerary. As you pick up your luggage to follow them to your assigned cabins, you turn around once more, but instead of taking in the scenery, your eyes are searching for someone who stands out a head taller than all the rest. You seem to have lost track of him though, and you are bothered by the fact that this bothers you.
No matter. It will pass. He was nice to talk to in the car ride up, but it’s unlikely you’ll have much else in common. For as much as the company tries to promote inter-department mingling, people are always going to gravitate towards what they know.
After a simple dinner of lasagna and salad, the facility manager ushers everyone over to the bonfire area, where refreshments and the fixings for making s’mores have been set up. You try to hide your excitement at the prospect of making one, even if you won’t probably eat it all. They were far too sweet for you, but how could you resist? They’re a staple of the camping experience.
However, your work friends were more interested in checking out the hot tub, so you are by yourself for this evening it seems. You aren’t too broken up by it. After all, you do work with them every day. At the makeshift bar, you see a selection of small batch whiskeys on offer. You order a double and receive it poured over a large, hand-carved whiskey ice ball. Taking a tentative sip, you start making your way over to the s’mores table.
Almost immediately, you hear the distinct tenor of Gale’s voice loudly behind you.
“What a delightfully rustic display of confectionary goodness, and so very classically American, wouldn’t you say, Halsin? I dare say, I’ve been looking forward to finally tucking into one of these.”
You almost choke on your next sip of the whiskey as you spin on your heel, looking at them both with surprise.
“Are you serious? Gale, don’t tell me you’ve lived in the US all this time and have never had a s’more.”
Gale opens up his mouth reproachfully, but Halsin answers for him, another mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Gale doesn’t do camping, remember? And as far as I’m concerned, s’mores are best consumed in the great outdoors, with red hot coals stoking the fire below and the stars shining above. Much like we are about to experience now, I wager.”
“Fair enough,” you say. “But do you even know how to make one, Gale? I guess s’mores aren’t a thing in England.” You look to Gale and then Halsin for confirmation and to confirm his accent's origin.
“They aren’t, no. That’s why I was going to ask Halsin to demonstrate for me.”
You raise your eyebrow incredulously. Halsin immediately seems to understand the implications behind the gesture. “I’m familiar with both cultures,” he explains. “Thanks to my mother. I’ve spent more time in England, though. It’s why I’ve still got the accent.”
You take a few graham crackers and one of the dark chocolate squares, setting them beside your marshmallows on the plate. “Is that so? Whereabouts in England?”
“Do you know Yorkshire?”
“Yorkshire…that’s where the Moors are, right? Wuthering Heights and all that?”
His chuckle is more like a deep rumble in his chest as he nods at you with approval. “The very same. Yes, I’ve spent countless hours exploring the Moors. A hauntingly beautiful place. Nowhere else like it.”
His eyes lock with yours and you suddenly feel very exposed by the intensity of his eye contact, so you shift your weight and clear your throat. “Well, good luck with teaching Gale how to make s’mores. I’m hoping mine turn out alright, though I can never seem to get the marshmallows to the right consistency..”
“In that case, why don’t you join us? If you’re not waiting for anyone, that is. I’ve gathered a small group of us from team three – you already know Gale and myself, but have you met Cal and Lia? They’re here too. I’d be honored to introduce you.”
You freeze for a moment, scrambling for some kind of excuse, but you don’t find one that wouldn’t somehow come off as rude. Besides, you think that it might be a good idea to try to get to know some other people in IT. Try some inter-department mingling for once.
You tell Halsin that you haven’t met them, at least as far as you’re aware, so he leads you over to the chairs they have claimed by one of the bonfires. As you get introduced, Halsin grabs another chair for you. You don’t notice until you sit down, but he has placed your chair between him and Lia.
At this angle, you can see how the light of the fire casts an inviting glow over his face, softening his features more. You can also see more of his tattoo now; a flourish of swirling and interwoven dark red lines run down his neck, presumably over to his shoulder and possibly down his right arm. It looks like it might be tribal in design, but not the typical kind of tribal tattoos that you so often see on gym bros and crossfit evangelists. Though it’s still too early to tell. You’ve been making a lot of assumptions about him recently, and not many of them have been correct.
You watch as Halsin shows Gale how to make s’mores, and you nod impressively when he looks to you for approval. He seems genuinely pleased to have received it, and your brow furrows when you feel a sudden knot in your stomach. It makes no sense at all why you should be feeling this. Even more unusual is the fact that it shouldn’t be this entertaining just to watch someone learning how to make s’mores, but there’s just something about Halsin’s way with words that effortlessly draws you in. It’s a little infuriating, in fact. You think that Lakrissa was right. He should be over in Sales if he’s got this effect on people.
“So, Halsin,” you say, focusing intently on your browning marshmallow instead of the size of his arms. “How did you end up at the company? Based on your extensive outdoor knowledge, I’d have pegged you for someone working at the National Park Service or the British equivalent.”
“Ah yes. There’s the twenty-quid question.”
“Get it a lot, I’m guessing? If you’re tired of answering it, you don’t have to.”
“No, it’s fine. You’ve shown more restraint than most to wait until now to ask. It’s a natural question, after all.”
“It’s all my fault,” Gale pipes up, his voice laden with sarcasm. “I dragged him from the Moors, kicking and screaming for my own selfish reasons.” He turns his skewer so his marshmallows don’t burn, and his tone shifts to become much more serious. “You see, I wanted a project manager who I could trust and who I knew would actually know what they’re talking about, instead of one of those clueless sods who just want to suck up to Corporate for a promotion.”
Halsin chuckles, though more subdued than before. “I assure you, I came willingly. But Gale did refer me, because he knew I was looking for more stable work in the States, and he knew me from when I used to TA some of the computer science courses at our university. Though I had moved on a bit from the industry since then, I still had the necessary background required for the role. I’ll admit, though, that my coding skills leave much to be desired.”
“Now hang on,” Lia protests, jumping into the conversation. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re more than proficient in several languages, including C++, which I’m not as familiar with.” She turns to look at you. “His help in that has been invaluable .”
Cal nods. “Yeah, cuz there was no way me or anyone on the team was going to be learning that. It might as well have been ancient Greek.”
“ And ,” Gale exclaims, as though being tagged back into the conversation. “The most important element in all of this is that he understands what we all do as programmers and can communicate it succinctly, effectively and convincingly to the higher ups, leaving us to do what we actually want to do: code in peace.”
Halsin waves his hand, as though trying to swat away the myriad of compliments flying in his direction.
“Come now, you’re making out what I do to be far more important than it is. In reality I’m just chasing down information ninety percent of the time. And sure, I can get by with basics, but I’m no wizard with code. Not like Gale here. He’s a prodigy. The company is very lucky to have him. And I feel very lucky that he referred me. I don’t think I would have gotten the position otherwise.”
As you look between the four of them, examining their expressions and hearing the earnestness in each of their voices, you feel your walls coming down a bit more. There was none of that fake politeness that people usually exhibit when speaking with or about a direct supervisor. All of this praise was genuine, and you found yourself becoming even more confused. Who exactly was this Halsin guy and why did he seem to inspire such loyalty?
After indulging in the s’mores and another fifth of whiskey, you sit around the fire as it starts to die down, staving off the chill of the night by cozying up to the heat of the smoldering coals. You look up into the velvet night sky and let out an appreciative gasp. There are more stars overhead than you have seen in a long time. You crane your neck back to try to spot more between the trees.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Halsin says, his deep voice cutting through the din of the background chatter. “But there’s an even better view just beyond the property line.”
You turn to him, folding your arms. “How do you know? Have you been here before?”
“No, never,” he laughs. “It’s far too posh for my tastes. And far too self indulgent. No, I just came back from a little wander around the property.” He pauses for a moment, as though gauging the full extent of your interest. “Would you… like to see what I mean?”
You might be imagining it, but you think you detect a hint of nervousness in his tone. The thought is laughable. This hulking figure of a man, nervous? Unbelievable. Normally, you’d refuse such an invitation, especially in an environment like a bar or club, but this is your company’s work retreat. He doesn’t mean anything by it, surely. Based on what you’ve seen of his interactions with other women so far this weekend, there were no ulterior motives at play. For most men, it was very easy to tell. It was almost like they gave off an aura, like that of a predator stalking prey. Halsin had not set off any alarms in you so far, and goodness knows you had been looking for an excuse to ring them. Still, you think it best to make sure it’s not that far beyond the property line.
“Sure,” you say, quicker than you expected. “Lead the way.”
Another warm smile lights up his face, and you feel the knot twist in you again. You always were a sucker for a disarming smile.
No, don’t be an idiot. You’re just touch starved and ready to soak up any kind of positive attention, regardless of who it’s from. That has to be it .
You bury these troubling thoughts and push the feelings away as you get up and order a final fifth of whiskey to take out with you. Before you head out, Halsin extends the invitation to Cal and Lia, but they both say they are ready to follow Gale’s lead and retire for the evening.
So it’s just you and Halsin walking in silence together, side by side. He opens the gate for you and then leads the way along a path that borders the treeline and the property fence. You do not speak to each other as you move along, and you are reminded of just how much you needed this kind of reprieve, having spent most of the day making corporate-approved small talk. In fact, it was only the last hour that you felt you could actually relax and let some of your guard down. To luxuriate in this kind of silence, without awkwardness, is incredibly refreshing.
After reaching the end of the path, you see that there is a small set of stone stairs that leads up to a raised clearing, perhaps designed specifically for stargazing. You can see a stone slab table or two where one might place a telescope, for example. Halsin stops in front of the stairs and then breaks the silence.
“It’s just up there. I found information about it buried within the venue’s brochures. It’s still part of their property, but not advertised as a key feature, which I find interesting.”
“I guess stargazing doesn’t have the same draw as bocci ball and hot tubs.”
He chuckles. “Maybe. But perhaps the weather doesn’t often afford good enough views for proper stargazing. You’d have to be higher up on the mountain for that.”
“I see. Seems like the weather gods are on our side tonight, then. That’s lucky.”
“It would appear so. Let’s make the most of it.” He looks back in the direction you came, as though to indicate to you that you are still close to the property itself, and then heads up the stairs in front of you. You follow him, and when you reach the top, you look up and gasp. The sky is littered with stars, more than you could ever count.
“Holy shit…You weren’t kidding.”
“I rarely do… about this kind of thing, anyway.”
You take in all in for a moment, searching for constellations that you recognize, though you don’t know many. You revel in the beauty of the cosmos as you take another sip of your whiskey.
“How is it?”
“The sky?”
“No,” he grins. “The whiskey.”
“It’s not bad. Want to try?”
He hesitates for a moment.
“Oh shit,” you say, covering your mouth with your free hand. “I shouldn’t have assumed you drank.”
“No, no. I asked about the whiskey, after all. But that’s very considerate of you to think of that. It’s true that I don’t drink as much these days. Special occasions, though, well–” He slowly extends out his hand towards your glass. “I can make an exception.”
You smile at him, and his fingers graze yours for a fraction of a section as the glass passes between your hands. A feeling of warmth blooms in your chest, but you are sure it must just be the whiskey. He takes a moment to smell it before taking a small sip, smacking his lips to properly taste the top notes. You hear him murmur with delight as he passes it back to you.
“You’re right,” he says, a touch of raspiness in his voice now. “That is very nice. Dangerously so.”
“Even better under a view like this, wouldn’t you say?” You gesture back up at the sky, as you find yourself scooting yourself closer to him.
“Absolutely.” He pauses for a moment, searching for something in the sparkling firmament above. “Ah! There! I can see Ursa Major, even. That’s amazing.”
“That’s the bear one, right?”
He nods. “Yes. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Know a lot of them do you? You’ll have to impart some of your knowledge to me. I’m afraid I only know the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt.”
“The Big Dipper is a good one to know. You can easily find the North Star from its location. But here, let me point out Ursa Major for you.” He walks up behind you and then indicates that he wishes to guide your arm to the constellation’s starting point. “May I?”
You nod, and he takes a hold of your wrist, telling you to extend your forefinger so he can steer your arm like the needle of a compass. You try to follow the line your forefinger is drawing in the sky, but you can’t help but be distracted by the feeling of your wrist wrapped up in his strong hand. It feels warm and rough against your skin. Oddly comforting, even.
“There,” he says, when he’s guided your hand to the correct position. “Do you see it?”
You swallow hard as you barely manage to squeak out a ‘yes’. It is probably a combination of the whiskey, the cool evening, and the unavoidable romantic undertones of standing underneath a blanket of stars, but you cannot suppress a shiver that runs down your spine.
Halsin immediately notices it and lets go of your wrist, stepping back to give you some space. “Are you cold? I could always grab a blanket for you from the patio.”
“No, no,” you say, a little too loudly, after clearing your throat. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by all this cosmic majesty.” You hope your tone is convincing enough. “I think the only better view I’ve seen is in Death Valley.”
“I know exactly where you mean.” The exuberance in his voice is palpable. You can’t help but find it endearing. “By the dunes, right? You can see the milky way clearly from such a low elevation. It’s incredible.”
A smile appears on your lips unbidden. “Yes, exactly. I remember just staring up at the milky way for at least an hour. It was one of those life-defining moments. Have you been to Death Valley, then?”
He nods. “Once. A long time ago. An ex of mine wanted to go, so I planned a short trip around her birthday in early April. Perfect time to go, in my opinion. The desert marigolds there were in full bloom, absolutely carpeting the landscape in bright yellow. That year, they had actually gotten a decent amount of rain, and I saw a huge flock of migrating meadowlarks, which was an absolute highlight, not to mention the pipistrelle bats and the kangaroo rats making the most of the blooming foliage. You know, for a name like Death Valley, I was just blown away by the amount of life that we encountered.”
As you watch him regale you with this memory, his animated hand gestures and dialed-in expression keeping your focus, you feel yourself letting go more and becoming drawn into this genuine moment of inhibited joy. This is the kind of passion you feel you have lost a long time ago. But seeing him expressing it freely and without reservation stirs something within you. You yearn to know more. To understand and probe at the source of this joy, both out of a sense of wonder and maybe a touch of cautious suspicion. For how could he live in their society and still exude this measure of childlike wonder at the world? The spell breaks for a moment as you start to overanalyze the feeling instead of just reveling in it. A low buzzing of irritation begins to fester within you and starts to seep into your words.
“That’s… pretty detailed of an answer. You seem to know a lot, Halsin. About nature, I mean.”
“Well, yes. It’s my first love, after all. I was working with National Parks England before I got the job here.”
“Oh really?” The shock at discovering this adding unnecessary volume. “So… wait, you left willingly from a dream role to come manage IT projects at a big software company in cubicle hell? Why?? ” Your tone drips with accusation, probably mostly from your own feelings of inadequacy. It was something you could probably disguise much easier if you weren’t three whiskeys deep.
The look he gives you is hard to read, but you can tell that your words and tone have dimmed his light somewhat, because his posture slumps ever so slightly. His hands drop to his sides, and his voice lowers. Immediately, you regret what you said, but it’s too late now. You’ll have to live with the repercussions.
“I–” he searches around, avoiding eye contact. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” He stretches one arm behind him, restlessly scratching at the back of his head as he struggles to explain himself. “Not many would make the same choice, I wager. But I have my own reasons, none that I’ll bore you with now. Sometimes, as painful as it may be, life often forces you to make a tough choice. But looking back on it, I know I would make the same choice again. Perhaps, one day, I can go back to conservation work. But until then, well, I guess I’ll just have to make the most out of my time in ‘hell’, as you so distinctly put it.”
He grimaces at you, and you feel your stomach twist in knots to hear your words thrown back at you.
“Halsin, I-”
“Listen,” he interrupts, lifting up his hand to stop you from trying to backpedal. “It’s getting late. I should probably get back and get some sleep. Enjoy the rest of the stargazing, if you decide to stay. I’ll see you around.”
Your head pounds. Your stomach churns. The inside of your mouth is parched, and it hurts to swallow. You desperately need refreshment, but you know that if you gulped down too much water now, you’d throw it right back up. You’ll just have to be patient.
You groan as you fumble around in your luggage. You brought coconut water and ibuprofen tablets in anticipation of this, having learned your lesson from one too many hangovers that just seem to get worse the older you get. The coconut water is not chilled, and it tastes so much worse lukewarm, but you manage to drink enough to get the ibuprofen down. You hope for relief soon, because you don’t want to miss breakfast. You’re going to need some hearty carbs to make it through this day.
As you struggle to wash your face and look presentable, you can’t help but replay the scene from last night over and over, from where it went wrong. The look on his face. The way his body language immediately shifted from light and playful to cowering and nervous. And it was all your fault, just because you were annoyed to see someone so seemingly unaffected by the unbearable weight of living.
You could blame it on your company. Or your asinine team members. Or your parents constantly nitpicking every life decision you make. Deep down you know they’re not the true cause for blame. Halsin showed you that very clearly last night. There is one unifying factor at the core of all of these issues: you. Perhaps you are just rotten. Damaged beyond repair. Perhaps you just want to bring others down to your level.
Somehow you stumble downstairs, and your descent into self pity is interrupted as someone spots you in the dining hall, calling you over to their table. You freeze in abject horror, but when you see who it is, you relax just a little. It’s Lia, sitting next to Cal and a few others whose names you can’t immediately recall, as you met a bunch of new people last night. Your head still throbs, but you’re grateful that it’s Lia who called you over instead of your team members. It’d be much harder to pretend like everything is okay with them.
“Hey, you made it.” Lia chirps to you as you shuffle over, seemingly unphased by your stonewalled expression. “Excellent timing, too. They’ve just refreshed the waffle station.”
You sit down next to her and try to force a smile. “Hey,” you croak out, and you decide to be honest with her about your mental and physical state. “Yeah, I’m surprised I even managed to claw my way out of bed.”
“My sympathies,” Cal says, immediately recognizing your condition. “I’ve been there.”
“What?” Lia says, before the light of recognition flickers in her eyes. “Oh! You’re hungover. That sucks, I’m sorry. Do you have any meds?”
“I took some already,” you say, and without thinking, blurt out the very thing that is burdening your conscience. “Say, have you seen Halsin yet?”
Cal shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen him since last night.”
“He tends to rise early, even on vacation,” Lia says, polishing off the last of her coffee. “I didn’t believe him at first but it looks like it might be the case after all. Crazy. I could never.”
“Oh that’s too bad. I was hoping I might find him before it gets too late. I need to apologize.”
Cal and Lia look at you in shock. “Huh? What for?”
You sputter out a disappointed sigh. “I think I struck a nerve when I asked about why he left his Parks job in England to come work here. I was just curious, but I worded it really harshly. He took it pretty badly, understandably so, immediately leaving without answering the question. I feel especially bad because we were having a great conversation just before that.”
Cal and Lia exchange glances for a brief moment before answering. Your muddled brain is unable to determine what these glances might mean. The corners of your mouth begin to water, and you immediately divert all remaining brain power to keep from throwing up.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Cal says, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know if you were too harsh or not, but I don’t think Halsin would really be that upset. I mean, he deals with much worse on a daily basis.”
Lia nods. “Yeah to be honest, I’m surprised he reacted that way and didn’t tell you the real reason. It’s not like it’s some carefully guarded secret, after all.”
Your ears perk up. “Oh? What do you mean?”
“Well,” Lia continues. “He took the job and moved to the US to help out his mom. She’s been in a bad state for some time, and I’m not sure it’s getting any better.”
You feel your jaw drop. “What?”
“Yeah his dad is out of the picture, and his older siblings all have their own families,” Cal continues. “So I imagine he felt as though the responsibility fell on him. He needed to be physically closer to her, as moving her to England would be impractical.”
“He gave up a lot so he could help her.” Lia concludes, her eyes downcast. “It really is admirable.”
You sit in silence upon hearing this news, as your feelings of self loathing twist and cut deeper within you. “Wow,” you say, finally. “Now I really feel like a piece of shit.”
“It’s not like you knew, though,” Cal cuts in. “I mean, Halsin didn’t tell you. So how would you know?”
“Well, yeah, I’m practically a stranger - why would he tell me?” you say bitterly. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to know me any further, after I put my foot in my mouth like that.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I mean, he couldn’t stop talki–” Cal shoots her a daggered look and she stops herself from continuing. “I mean, you don’t know until you talk to him about it, right? Just to clear up any misunderstandings. I think that’d be nice.”
Cal leans forward, drumming his fingers on the table. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I remember him talking about hiking one of the trails as soon as we got here. That’s the most likely place he’d be right now, if you’re still looking to meet up with him.”
Lia nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! I remember that now. See? You can catch up with him and all will be well. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah okay,” you say, standing up slowly to keep the room from spinning. “But before I go, I’m really going to need one of those waffles.”
God fucking dammit . Of course he’d pick the most intense trail.
Even though most of your hangover is gone, you are still feeling lethargic and off-balance. After finding Gale and confirming the exact trail that Halsin took, you were so eager to try to catch up with him that you left in a discombobulated state, completely forgetting to change your shoes.
You are hiking in ballet flats, sweating profusely. Partly due to the lingering effects of the hangover, and partly because you are just tremendously out of shape. You haven’t had time recently to go to the gym on a regular basis. You take heavy, shaking breaths as you trudge back and forth through countless switchbacks. After a half hour of a steady incline, you pause to catch your breath for the second time in several minutes and gulp down a bunch of your water. At this rate, you’ll never catch up to him, but that was partly your aim. You figure you can at least cross paths with him on his way down, and then you can just head downhill for the rest of the journey as you make your peace with him. Or, if it’s still horribly awkward between you two, you can tell him you need a rest and let him go on by himself.
It’s the best plan you can come up with in your addled state, and you go over in your head what you might say to him before rounding the corner of a long bend that hugs the side of a cliff, with the treeline on the other side. It’s very serene and peaceful, if a bit cold, even for late June. You watch your feet carefully, making sure that you don’t slip on a loose rock or trip on an exposed root. You are so careful with this, in fact, that you do not notice the bridge ahead of you, or the giant black mass that is in front of it.
You freeze when you register what that mass is.
It’s a bear. A very large, black one.
The firing of your brain’s synapses feels like lightning in your skull as a myriad of thoughts rise to the surface. These are the things you know for sure:
It is a black bear. It is probably male, judging by the size. It is only about fifty feet away and has definitely noticed your presence. You are alone.
You remain frozen in shock, a good thing in this case, from what you can recall of bears. It wasn’t a good idea to run. Or was that just for mountain lions? Or, wait, Grizzly Bears? Should you play dead, or is that just a myth?
Your eyes dart side to side, looking for something, anything that might serve as a weapon. A large rock, maybe, if you can even pick it up and throw it far enough for it to be effective. As your options dwindle in front of your eyes, you hear a noise coming from the other side of the bridge, behind the bear. It is animalistic in nature, but it is not the bear making those noises. No, they sound very much human.
The bear turns towards the noise, clearly startled, and you seize this moment to crouch down and tip-toe towards a large trunk that’s to your right. You feel tears forming in your eyes out of sheer terror, and you may be moving faster than you should, but you just can’t wait any longer. The flight aspect of your survival instincts has kicked in. You just pray that scurrying away doesn’t activate the prey instincts of the bear.
“Go on, bear! Get going! Come on, bear! Off you go, then! Rahhh!”
You might be imagining it, but that sounds like… wait, no . Could it be? Your curiosity gets the better of you as you peek your head over the stump to see the bear galloping off into the woods, clearly having been spooked enough to deem the confrontation no longer worth it. Now that the bear is gone, you can see that your suspicions are confirmed. Halsin is standing on the bridge, using his hands to amplify his voice and standing on his toes to make himself look bigger. After he’s certain that the bear is gone, he relaxes his posture and takes in several long, deep breaths.
You are still stunned by everything that just happened, but you still manage to find your voice.
“Halsin!” You call out as you shuffle towards him, the relief spilling over in every breath that you take. “Oh my god, are you okay? I can’t believe that. You just saved my fucking life.”
When you reach him, you can see his hands are shaking slightly, and his brow is dripping with sweat. “That was close,” he says, wiping his forehead with a hand towel. “Too close for comfort. I saw you steadily approaching the bear, but I didn’t want to startle him too soon. I was worried he’d charge off in your direction. Hell, you really had me clutching my pearls there for a moment. Did you really not see the bear until the last moment?”
You shake your head, the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins, and you feel as though you could suddenly run a marathon. “No. I was too concerned with trying not to trip on anything. Gods, Halsin, I’m sorry. But I am so so glad you were here at the right time. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. My brain went blank. I forgot everything I had ever learned about bears.”
“And about hiking, perhaps,” he says, a stern edge to his voice. “Why did you hike up here alone? Did you not hear the announcement the facilities manager made about an increase in bears in the area? And it looks like you’re almost out of water. Not a very wise thing to do on a trail, even one as well traversed as this.”
You narrow your eyes in indignation.
What is up with this guy, seriously?
“Oh yeah? Well, excuse me, Smokey the Bear. I’ll have you know that I made my way here in a hurry so I could meet up with you and apologize. So yeah, some things may have slipped my mind. Like, putting on comfortable hiking shoes for one,” you scowl as you point downwards at your ballet flats, now coated in a fine layer of dust and dirt. “But I needed to seize the moment and clear my conscience before it was too late. But now I also need to thank you for saving my fucking life. Isn’t that just the icing on the incompetency cake, Mr. Bear Whisperer? Good fucking god.”
As you lean into your rant, you notice him watching you with folded arms and an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, but when you say that you want to apologize to him, his expression completely changes. He unfolds his arms, and a look of confounded wonder and amazement washes over his face as all sternness melts away. His voice is soft and low – hesitant but hopeful.
“You came all this way to… apologize to me?”
The sudden switch in his demeanor once again throws you off-guard, though this time in a much more pleasant way.
“Well,” You stumble with your words for a moment as the irritation begins to fade, faster than you expected. “Yeah, of course. It’s the decent thing to do, after all.”
“I’m sure it is, if I could just figure out what you need to apologize for.”
You roll eyes and groan. “Oh come on, Halsin. Don’t make me spell it out. For last night, remember? You stormed off like I had thrown a drink in your face. I didn’t mean to be so nosy. I was just… well, I am just bitter and cynical sometimes. But I shouldn’t have projected that onto you. I made it awkward and I’m sorry for that. I actually enjoyed our conversation and I just hope I didn’t ruin a connection before it got started. You actually seem pretty cool, you know. God knows it’d be nice to have another friend at the company. Someone who just isn’t in my department, at that.”
It is now his turn to look away from you, avoiding eye contact as a soft smile, the softest you have seen yet, slowly forms on his lips. He takes a moment to respond, as though trying to fully process everything you have just said.
“I see. Well, thank you for explaining that to me, and for making the effort to come meet me. You really didn’t have to. And I assure you, there’s no need for apologies. I think perhaps you misunderstood my reaction, which is completely fair. But no, I wasn’t upset at you. I just didn’t know how to answer you without ruining the mood, but I guess I did regardless.”
You feel as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. “That’s a relief. Oh and don’t feel like you have to explain anything further. Why you chose this job is your own business.”
“It’s nothing so secretive,” he says, eyeing you hesitantly. “But there’s a time and place for everything. Especially now, I think I’d rather bask in the fact that we had an up close encounter with one of the most magnificent creatures on the planet, and we still have all our limbs intact.”
You let out a long exhale. “I know, right? That was crazy. I still haven’t completely processed it. God, wait till the others hear about it.”
You start to walk back down the trail together, once again in a comfortable silence. After some time, he speaks up once more.
“I would like that, by the way.”
“Hmm?” You say, looking over to him after taking another sip of water.
“If we could become company allies. Friends, even. I think I would like that very much.”
Two months later…
You owe me twenty bucks.
No way. I’m going to need to see proof.
I’m not lying, but if you really don’t believe me, talk to Gale on Monday.
Well I’ll be damned. You convinced him. And you mean to tell me you still don’t want a transfer over to sales? You could easily double your salary, you know, with negotiation prowess like that.
And triple my stress? No thank you, I’m good. So anyway, I called the campground and they actually had a cancellation. Are you free in two weeks?
I might be. Where’s the campground?
I’ll send you a link in a minute. No bears, I promise. Are you in?
To see Gale bring an entire week’s worth of food for three nights? Absolutely.
Ha! You’re not too far off. To be honest, it will never be ‘real’ camping with Gale, but that just means you and I will have to make our own trip one of these days.
Sure. Carry my backpack as well as your own and you’ve got a deal.
Damn. You drive a hard bargain. Still, I think I can manage. Besides, I think it’s a small price to pay, for the pleasure of your company.
Perfect. I look forward to it, then.