First World Problems

'Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

At least my boots were made for this sort of thing. Probably. Tiny globs of stinky brown paste slammed into my arms, flattening against my skin. Adrenaline twisted my stomach tighter and tighter as my leg muscles burned, trying to keep up with Callum. If someone had asked me to imagine my worst personal hell, it wouldn’t have been nearly as bad as this. A sob worked its way out of my throat and that started the tears flowing.

I’d remained stoic the entire time I’d been here, but something about having monkey shit smeared on my arms and in my hair left me completely undone.

I could barely see with the tears streaming out of my eyes, but I followed Callum’s every move as he darted past large leaves. He held their large stalks back for me, and I stayed close on his heels so they wouldn’t thwack back in my face. Everything was a blur of green and black and the brown of the trail beneath my boots—thank God for those boots—and the surround sound of monkeys screeching ringing through my ears. This was one of those sounds I knew would haunt my nightmares. I just had to hope that the smell wouldn’t transfer as well.

After a few more seconds, the space around us started to get brighter and brighter, and the screeching receded. The combination of sprinting and crying had left barely any space for air in my lungs, so when Callum finally stopped in a clearing, I stopped, doubled over, and hungrily gasped for air. I rested my elbows on my knees, too exhausted to even think about standing upright again to reach for the water skin in my pack.

I let my vision fill with the tall brown and green savannah grass. A few seconds later, the mouth of a canteen, top already screwed off, appeared before my eyes.

“Two things,” Callum said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “Breathe deep into your belly, and drink as soon as you can.”

Slowly, I unfolded myself to stand upright, startled at how close Callum stood to me. His hand floated, open, near my upper arm. My eyes flicked to his hand, then up to his eyes. He was waiting to steady me if I fell.

I swallowed hard, trying to bring some moisture to the dry rasp in my throat. “Thank you,” I managed before I tipped some of the water from his canteen over my tongue.

He nodded. “You okay? The altitude change can be killer, even if you are in good shape.”

My lungs were finally filling again. “I’m okay,” I wheezed and glanced up. “How much farther?”

“Not too far now. I brought you through the shortest part of the forest. Thought it would be easiest, between the humidity and trying to avoid snakes. I guess it’s also the most monkey-infested this time of year.”

“Nice planning,” I mumbled, picking up the end of a chunk of my hair and pulling it in front of me for inspection. The stink flooded my nose. “Oh, God,” I said, dropping it and turning to the side.

“Yeah, they got me, too. Nothing can really prepare you for a literal shit-fest in the jungle.” His eyebrows knit together, making a wrinkle of concern above his nose.

He glanced at me as I pulled up to my full height and put my hands on my hips. I tried to keep my heavy breathing not-so-obvious, but from the look of concern on his face, I wasn’t doing a great job.

“You’re okay, right?”

I looked up and nodded. When my eyes finally connected with his face, I saw the humungous monkey pie sitting right on top in his floppy hair, like one of the British Royal Family’s fascinators.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat, and I knew before I even tried that there was no way I could stifle it. Callum caught on a split second after my smile started, even though he was still clearly confused. “What? What is it?”