We walked. A trail strewn with jagged splinters of rocks. Boulders splitting, at the mercy of penetrating heat and humidity. Lichens growing symbotically with algae like green tufts of body hair. I dutifully follow my guide, navigating over the treacherous crevasses. Occassionally, I kick a stray stone over the edge of the cliff we've been trailing. No splash heard. Cockle shells strewn on patches of white sand. "How the heck did the shells get here?!" I muse aloud. The silent man in front, turns around with eyebrows raised. His reverie disturbed by my idotic comment. "Nothing!". I shake my head at him as I haul myself up a boulder. It's smooth, rounded and sanded by scrambling hikers like us. But he waits for me at the top. "You were saying?". I smiled and said nothing again. He reached out, roughly grabbed my hand and impatiently pulled me to the top. "you're supposed to follow my steps, not scramble around, if you want, we'll turn back!". I pulled my hand back, electrocuted by the strength in his hand and the coarseness in his voice. A combination of surprise and annoyance. "Keep walking" I thrust out my chin at him in defiance.
Silently, he stared at me and without a word started walking ahead. I watched his back. The patch of sweat started at his mid spine, spreading steadily down his lower back. His backpack covered the upper half of his body. A trickle of sweat visible just below his nape at he reached over to maneuver around a jagged branch long dried. A skeleton hanging in defiance of life. Damn! I can see the lean muscles ripple. The wet T-shirt straining at the sheer force of the effort. I know, its the air. It's getting heady. A lethal combination of frigid gusts of spring breeze and the sun. A seduction akin to a series of hot showers and icy dips in the lakes of Sweden. I knew, he knew. I was watching.
"You go ahead!" he stepped aside. I hesitated. It was a taste of my own medicine. "Fine!' I lunged forward, my ponytail protesting at the sudden movement. He had not moved. He knew, I knew. He was watching. A patch of red spread across my cheeks. Teen years all over again. Awkwardly, I pulled myself on to a plateau. Breathless, all senses tingling. Heightened by the precarious height, penetrating scrutiny and a panorama of serrated rocks below. Silently, he came up and stood by me. I could smell a combination of sweat and cologne on him. So close was he. Again the same tingling sensation crawling down the ridges of my spine. His smell permeates the air. I close my eyes. With an effort, I rise. Slowly. My nerves a mass of high wire as wisps of long, stray hair brush his shoulders. My ponytail in awry as my muddled thoughts. A kiss. a kiss. Here. Now, sandwiched high, between the azure sky and blue Potomac! In trance, I rise to meet his perceptive gaze. Idiot! I head past him. Down the deceptive trail. Without a backward glance.
