And with laughter the whole Earth shook (Raseri)

Done, I thought in relief when I heard the signal, shifting my weight onto a foot and taking a deep breath to clear my head. Sweat dripped down my forehead and off the tip of my nose, but no matter how many times I raised a wrist to wipe it off, I never felt any cleaner, or drier. It felt as though my very being was saturated clear-through; a sleeveless t-shirt and faded blue jeans clung tirelessly to my skin, and a mop of long brown curls hung heavy and wet as a sponge, sticking to my forehead. All in all, I felt gross.

The sky had been cloudless all day, and I imagine in some districts that was a good thing—but as anyone who’s ever worked in District 11 before can tell you, the sun could be a more of a burden than a blessing. When it bore down all day on your back, your neck, and your shoulders, and you came home looking like a tomato, wincing every time something came into contact with your peeling, blistering skin, you wouldn’t think quite so fondly of the sun. I could feel a burn forming on my already sun-freckled skin, and my lips were cracked dry beyond helping, aching for the cool kiss of water. Luckily, I knew a shortcut on the way home where a spring ran through a small patch of forest—I would go there in a bit.

For now, I was tagging along with the rest of my group, keeping to myself and hanging a bit behind as they chattered amongst each other about the day’s work and what they would do when they got home. After our shifts, we workers flock to any scrap of shade like flies to honey in the hopes of just a moment of sanctuary from the summer heat, so naturally they all crowded under the first tree they passed, walking slowly but not daring to stop for long since everyone wanted to go home more than anything else. I was in no hurry, though—being the easygoing guy that I was—so I lingered behind once they’d disappeared, enjoying the shelter of the thick canopy of leaves. I sat down in the cool grass and rested my back against the trunk of the tree, taking a moment to relax and breathe in some air that wasn’t thick with dirt and sweat and heat. Slowly, I could feel the wetness on my clothes receding, and although my smell wasn’t getting any sweeter, I began to feel a bit less repulsive.

After a moment or so I felt a tickle on the crown of my head, and when I lifted a hand to scratch it, I felt the crunch of dead leaves. Instinctively, I craned my head back and looked up, wondering what could’ve knocked them down. I didn’t see anything up in the branches but more leaves, but since no one else was around, I went ahead and asked anyways.

”Hello? Is someone up there? Ya don’t have to hide, ya know, I don’t bite or nothin’.”

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There was a rustle and a sigh in the tree. ”I don’t mind if you bite,” a voice said, ”just don’t want you to nark.” The voice’s owner leans out to look at me, and I see that it’s a girl—and a cute girl at that, all blue eyes and long brown hair, with a real nice smile beamin’ right down at me. I matched it with my own, happy to have someone to talk to for now. ”Just wanted a bit of shade and sometime away from all that,” she added.

”I hear you,” I told her, bringing my thumb and forefinger to my mouth and zipping my lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. Didn’t bother me any if someone was playing a little hookie; in this heat, I didn’t blame them. I might even have done it too, if I could, but all of us Holbrook kids had learned a long time ago that if we skipped out on work, Uncle Gabe was gonna tan whatever part of our hides the Peacekeepers didn’t get to first. We all had to bring home our share to help support the family, that was important.

I could feel the girl looking at me, and suddenly I felt self-conscious. I immediately raised a hand to my hair to fluff my curls up a bit so they didn’t look so weighed-down with sweat, and I quickly wiped off a part of my dirt-smeared face with a clean patch of my t-shirt. Hopefully she was far enough away that she couldn’t smell me. She probably thought I was one of those gross teenagers who wore their blue jeans until they could stick to the wall and only took a bath when they were told to. I wasn’t; I tried to always look my best when it was possible.

She interrupted my thoughts then, asking if I should be out in the fields, or if I was finished. ”’Cause it’s getting to be brutal out,” she added. I tilted my head to look at her for a second as she chewed on a leaf stem, reminding me of the days of my childhood when Desmond and I would play at being farmers in the backyard, when he’d pretend to be a cow and chew on the grass. It made me smile for a minute, and then my cheeks flushed red when I remembered she had asked me a question.

”I’m all done for today, just stopped a minute to enjoy the shade,” I replied. ”I was gonna take a shortcut to a spring in the woods on my way home. You’re more than welcome to tag along, you know, if you’re tired of sittin’ in a tree.” I grinned up at her, hoping she'd accept.

{occ-the writing style’s a bit different in this post, I’m experimenting with Emery’s voice.}

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”Of course I want to go!” she said, climbing out of the tree. I brought my hands back down to my sides; I hadn’t realized it, but I had extended both arms to her while she was coming down towards me, like I always did for Evangeline when I was afraid she would fall. Now that she was standing next to me, I saw how much taller I was, although it didn’t really come as a surprise—when you’re six foot two, you tend to dwarf most people you stand next to, especially girls. Hope I’m not botherin’ ya though,” she added. I laughed.

”’Course not,” I said. I didn’t know why she thought she would be a bother; I had been more worried about me bothering her, really, since I’m all smelly and not looking my best, and I know girls don’t like to be around boys when they’re all gross like that. But she must not mind too bad, if she was wanting to go along with me. It would be nice to have some company, and maybe make a new friend. I didn’t have too many of them, not close ones anyway; just Desmond and the rest of my family, and I wasn’t sure that even counted, since I was related to them.

”But you’re probably a lot older than me,” she continued, ”ain’t gonna bother you to have a kid around?” Oh, so that’s what it was. This kind of thing tended to happen a lot with kids my age, thinking I was a lot older than I was. I didn’t blame them, what with my beard and my height and my thundery voice—I had been an early bloomer. Heck, she probably thought I was some creepy twenty-something year old trying to flirt with her, and we were probably the same age, if not close to it. I laughed again, and grinned at her, shaking my head.

”I’m Asha by the way,” she said, reminding me that I still hadn’t introduced myself.

”It’s nice to meet you, Asha. My name’s Emery,” I answered politely. ”The water’s this way,” I told her, jerking my head slightly in the direction of the spring. I wondered if I should offer her an elbow to hold onto or something, like Desmond always did; he was always doing gentlemanly things like that, and women seemed to like it. But then I got shy decided that she probably wouldn’t want to stand too close to me when I was stinky anyways. ”And darlin’, I’d be willing to guess I ain’t much older than you,” I said with a laugh as we walked side by side. At least, I hoped I wasn't. There was always the chance that she was like me, younger than she looked. ”I’m only seventeen.”

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”Ain’t no way you’re only seventeen!” Asha exclaimed in disbelief as I led her through a field, trampling through tall brown grass that swayed in the breeze and tickled our legs as we walked. ”I just turned sixteen and you look bunches older than me! Not that it’s bad or nothin’…” I just nodded slightly as she talked, smiling a little smile. A year wasn’t a long time—heck, seventeen and sixteen were like the same number, almost. I knew it wasn’t nice to stare, but I watched Asha while she looked at me—she was probably still trying to figure out how I could look the way I look and not be twenty-something—taking in the way her blue eyes glinted in the sunlight when she looked up at me, and the way her brown hair fell around her shoulders. Was it as soft as it looked? I wondered what it would feel like if I ran my fingers through it, like Adrian used to do to me when I was little and I cried. Then my cheeks flushed red, and I looked away just in case, because sometimes I felt like people could tell what you were thinking when they looked at you, and I didn’t want Asha to know that I had been thinkin’ about her like that. Just in case she didn’t like it.

”I just mean… you look…” She didn’t finish but I knew what she was talking about, and I suppressed a laugh at the words caught in her throat. If only she could have seen me a year or two ago; I had been all little and skinny, more like a curly-haired twig than a boy, really. One year, I had shot up real tall and filled out, just like uncle Gabe had said I would, and now I looked almost as old as Adrian. Sometimes people even asked if we were twins. ”Old,” I said, finishing her sentence for her, letting go of another chuckle. ”I know.”

”You don’t work in the orchards, do ya? I ain’t seen you around there and I have to work every day.” I shook my head. ”Nah, I work in the fields,” I told her. Plowing, harvesting, rotating crops—that was the kind of work I did. When I was a lot younger and a lot smaller, I had worked in the orchards, because back then I had weighed a lot less, and could climb up high enough to get the apples that hid up in the skinniest branches. Now I work in the fields, with the adults. All that manual labor builds muscle, so I guess it’s not so bad. But there are days like this one when I miss it, and the shade given by the thick leaves of the apple trees.

Speaking of shade… As soon as we reached the border of the patch of trees that held the spring, it felt about three degrees cooler (or something.). ”Shh, listen,” I said with my finger to my lips, slowing down for a second. If you listened close and tuned out the sound of dead branches and twigs crackling underfoot, you could hear the water rushing in the distance. ”Hear it?” I asked. I pointed. ”It’s just past that big tree right there. The one with all that green moss on it.”

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Asha’s hand pulled at my arm. ”Race you!” she said, but I must have been too caught up in the way she smiled up at me to remember how to run, because she left me in the dust, and I was still smiling like an idiot at the spot in which she had just been. ”Hey!” I laughed/shouted at her, dodging branches and jumping over roots as I sprinted for the creek. I ran fast, but Asha smoked me like a cigar; she had her shoes off and her feet in the stream before I even stepped near the edge. Plopping my butt down on the soft earth beside her on the upstream side, I slid my left shoe, right shoe off my feet with my toes and peeled off my socks before lowering my feet into the water with a splash and a sigh. Incredible was the first word that came to mind, a word I usually reserved for special occasions (because I didn’t know many big ones like that.). I pulled my shirt over my head too, and tossed it next to my shoes, now that we were in the shade and I wasn’t worried about getting a sunburn.

”It was really nice of you to bring me here. It’s beautiful. Makes this day about perfect.”

Perfect. That was a better word. It wasn’t just incredible, or fantastic; it was perfect. It was like time had stopped, and right now, I didn’t have to worry about getting home or going to work or settling stupid arguments or putting food in the kids’ bellies. All that I had to think about—all that I wanted to think about—was the shade, and the cold water, and me, and Asha. Asha especially, because I had decided that I would love to be around her even if it there was no shade, and no water. And she seemed to be getting prettier every time I stole a look at her. We were sitting so close together, and this day was so perfect that for a moment, I thought I should just press my lips against the smile she was giving me and see if her lips would press back. I almost did it—almost—but then I chickened out. What if she didn’t want to kiss me, and she ran away? The thought was terrifying, because the day was perfect because Asha was here, and it would cease to be so if she were gone.

”Just about, yeah,” I agreed finally, a little caught up in my thoughts. There was only one thing that could make this day anything but ”just about” perfect, but I was too scared to try it, too scared I’d make her up and leave. ”And I’m glad I brought you. I come here just about every day, but I ain’t never had this much fun. It’s not as fun by yourself.” I looked at her for a minute, and that feeling crept into me, the one where your heart beats faster and you feel like you’ve got butterflies flying around in your tummy. I think that’s your body’s way of telling you that it’s time to kiss somebody. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a teenage boy, it’s that you can’t always listen to what your body’s telling you.

So I pulled my eyes away from Asha and leaned forward to put my hands in the water, cleaning some of the smudged dirt off my face and my hands. Then, as an afterthought, I slapped the water, sending a splash towards Asha. ”This water’s great! Have some more! ” I exclaimed with a laugh. Yep, just about perfect.

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”Is it your hide-away?” Asha asked me softly. I nodded.

”It kinda is,” I said. I was pretty sure no one else knew it was here, either; any time I had ever come to this spot, it had been empty, and Asha was the first person I had ever brought along with me. ”I don’t mind, though. It can be yours too. I mean, if you want,” I told her, suddenly becoming shy for some reason. I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand, losing eye contact and then regaining it. ”I would like that,” was what I was trying to say, and I finally got it out. I had had more fun in the past hour than I’d had in a week, and I didn’t want this to be the only time I got to spend time with Asha.

”Ohhhh buddy! You’re gonna pay for that!” Asha called when I splashed her. Her shorts soaked a darker blue, she splashed me right back, squealing like a little kid. The cold water shocked my skin, and I let out a holler, not even bothering to think about whether or not someone could hear us. And why should I, when we were in our own world? We could laugh and shout and splash as much as we wanted, and nothing was going to happen except for the things we wanted to. No one could touch us here.

When I was done splashing, I sat cross-legged in the middle of the creek—since my pants were already soaked from the splashing, there was really no reason not to—facing Asha. The water ran over my legs on its way downstream, and mud from the bottom soaked the seat of my pants, but it felt good in the heat. ”You’re a lot of fun, Emery,” Asha said, making me smile again. I had been laughing and grinning so much that my face muscles ached when I tried to stop. ”I’m glad you found my tree.”

”Thanks, Asha,” I answered her with a grin, reaching a hand up to ruffle my hair a bit, since it was wet and laying flat against my head. ”You’re not too bad yourself.” She was great, actually. ”I’m glad we did this. It’s not too often I get to have this much fun.” It wasn’t too often I got to spend time with a girl, either; to be honest, Asha was the first one besides my sisters that I had talked to—well, really talked to—in a few months. And I hadn’t had feelings for someone since even longer than that.

“Hey, you ever gone fishing for crawdads before?” I asked suddenly, as an idea came out of nowhere.

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