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issue 6
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| Mosquito Bite |
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|by Eric Stepp-Bolling
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"Better put some repellant on. These mosquitoes will eat you alive."
Gary threw the small plastic bottle to Stacia who caught it deftly with her left hand, and without thinking, placed it in her pocket. Eat you alive. The words had a certain charm, a certain
portent. Of course mosquitoes never ate. They simply drank. But the image held enough visual stimulation to warm her against the chill of early evening.
"Look at that sky!" Above them rode waves of softening blues, crimsons, magentas, and deep purples, in layers travelling from east to west, from horizon to horizon. "Every time I doubt the existence of an omnipotent will, I make this trek and suddenly I realize the efforts of a being of infinite goodness."
Stacia had her own ideas about that. Infinite goodness necessitated infinite evil. "All things have their polar opposites," she said. "This quaint panorama is some drought-ridden. farmer's curse."
Stacia pulled the mosquito from her arm and rolled it between her fingers. It left a red stain.
"Perhaps backpacking on a first date is not such a good idea," Gary said.
The thought of physical exercise never appealed to Stacia, but isolation had its practical points. "I don't miss the stench of the city. The Italian restaurant next door keeps me awake all night with its nauseating smells."
"Too bad. I have a fondness for Italian food."
Stacia sighed. Sucking would not be a wise approach. Spicy food made for spicy blood. What she needed was a good meat and potatoes man. Still, there might be something better to do in the wilderness than drain a crank case. Her green eyes focused on the small fire with its flames tasting the night air like hungry snakes. The smell of burned wood intensified her passion. "Why did you ask me out. Gary?"
He seemed to hesitate a moment before replying, his eyes caught in the same flames as hers. "If I remember correctly, you picked me up."
"I was making conversation to someone at a bar. You asked me out," and she gestured with a sweep of her arm to indicate her surroundings.
"Perhaps I wanted to get to know you better?" Gary said.
"Perhaps." There was something unusual about this man that Stacia was not comfortable with, but comfort and need often were not bed partners. Briefly she tested the flame with her arm. The hairs on her forearm burned away quickly leaving a pleasant odor. "What do you want to know about me?"
He laughed then, but it seemed forced, not genuine. "Let’s start with your beliefs. What is important to you?" She watched him as his smile quickly died. It was hard to call him handsome. Intriguing might be a better word. Would she play his game for the night? One last night, he probably deserved that at least. "I believe in me. . . what drives me -- my needs, my wants, My desires -- drives the world around me."
"All right. I can deal with existentialism. What are your needs, wants. Desires?" Gary picked up a stick and began to play with the fire, but his real attention was on her. His eyes glanced at the fire,
but his concentration was on her.
"I don't think you really want to know," she said. "Oh, but I do." And he seemed to be completely serious. Stacia found a large dead branch and stoked the fire. The flames quickly engulfed the wood, pushing back the oncoming darkness. "I am like this fire. Attractive isn’t it."
Gary nodded. "The flames purify and destroy." "Is that a conscious choice?" Gary said. "As much as any choice is conscious." Stacia kicked off her shoes and stuck her toes into the fire. It felt good to warm them against the red embers. "I attract men… usually the type who need purification...
"… or destruction?" asked Gary still occupied with Stacia. "Are you attracted to me?" Stacia said.
"Like a moth."
Shifting her position, she felt the smooth, sharp blade of the knife beneath her. "I would like to know you better. The real you. Not the surface Gary, but what's underneath." Her hand reached for the grip of the knife. It felt comfortable, necessary.
Gary smiled sheepishly. "I presume that to be an honor. Then the smile vanished and his eyes focused on her again. "Do you believe evil is necessary?"
Her knuckles whitened around the grip. "It is necessary as a balance. Too much of a good thing… well things would get pretty ugly." It was becoming increasingly difficult to control her breathing. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in as much air as she could.
The brand Gary had been poking into the fire glowed a deep red. "Then I have one more question for you. Do you believe in retribution?"
"The 'eye for an eye' kind? My needs and my desires fulfill my motives."
"I see. Would you please toss me the repellant. This time of night the mosquitoes get thick."
She released her grip on the knife. When she found the bottle, she threw it to him.
He seemed to be in a hurry to spread the liquid over his exposed body. Then he said to her. "One should never take unnecessary risks.
"I would say you have taken an unnecessary precaution." Stacia was standing now, her bare feet firmly planted in the crimson coals left by the consumed wood. In her right hand, she brandished the hunting knife, its blade gleaming a reflected red. "Now I want to see what you are truly made of."
Gary had not taken his eyes from her. "Very impressive." Then he took the heated brand from the fire. In the night oxygen it flamed briefly. Without hesitating he placed the brand against his cheek. It smoldered slightly then went out. "Some moths are fire proof."
Stacia bared her teeth and made an animal hiss, but before she could advance on him, she heard the swarm of mosquitoes. They came like a black cloud outlined by the dim glow of the campfire. She had been bitten by mosquitoes before, but these stung with a vengeance. First they covered her head, then her shoulders, her body and even her legs. Only her feet still standing in the embers remained untouched. She fought them, she crushed them, but they came in droves. circling. alighting and sucking.
Gary watched in silence. Finally he said, "Retribution is a balance. We do keep track." Then he packed his equipment and slowly walked down the mountain.
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