Part of me thinks investing in Elk Springs is silly when all I want to do is get away. But the other part of me worries I’ll be here for the rest of my life, and no matter how many cute guys wander into town, I’ll never escape. So, for now, I’ll hedge my bets and keep improving the place. Plus, that gives me a chance to show off my smarts to Aiden and demonstrate my worth.
Last night, I was thinking about all the extra water capacity, which gave me an idea. The whole town is on a composting septic system, so the drains work. But the town’s well runs off electric pumps, so there’s no water. Placing one of the large drums high enough—say a hundred feet—could create enough pressure to supply water to the bank.
Elk Springs nestles right up to foothills. A steep slope rises behind Main Street, where a mountain stream runs year-round. If we could carry the drum up there, keep it filled with stream water, and connect it to the bank’s water main, it might just work. So Aiden and I spend the better part of the day lugging a large water drum on a trail that switchbacks up the hill.
It’s a hot day, so halfway up, Aiden removes his shirt. I don’t complain one bit. His sculpted form is intoxicating. He has strong, broad shoulders, and his arms make those fun little bumps at the triceps. He’s got a few tufts of hair on his chest and stomach.
Aiden’s looks remind me of my ex-boyfriend, Felix. Same general face shape and body type. Very similar eyes. That was part of what struck me about Aiden when he wandered into my town. I have the slightest twinge of guilt thinking about Aiden in this way while Felix may be alone back in Seattle. But I shove that guilt away. I broke up with Felix for a reason.
Personality-wise, Aiden and Felix couldn’t be more different. Felix was soft-spoken and okay with doing whatever I wanted to do. I would always initiate things in our relationship. That worked for a while, but eventually, it got old. I wanted him to contribute more. Felix was also very loving and fiercely loyal. It broke his heart when I called it off between us.
On the other hand, Aiden strikes me as somebody more confident in how he carries himself and everything he does. Even though I’ve been giving the orders on the jobs around town, I get the sense that Aiden usually runs the show. And that’s exactly the kind of guy I want to help me get home.
What is his deal, anyway? I’ve been getting flirty vibes from him, but something is holding him back. He hasn’t said a peep about his personal life. The only hint I have is that name he called out in his dream. Marcus.
“I think this was the best spot, right?” Aiden’s question brings me back from my thoughts.
We’re at a flat section of the hill, below where the stream collects into a naturally forming pool.
“Yeah, this looks good. Let’s set it down right over there.”
With the tank situated, I run plastic PVC pipe from the pool of water to the top of the drum. An in-line filter in the middle removes the bacteria. It’s amazing what you find when looting people’s houses. The drum starts filling with water, as I imagined it.
In one of his trips down from the junkyard, Ezra brought me hundreds of feet of PVC pipe for irrigation. It was great, but way more than I needed for the garden. An enormous pile has been sitting next to the bank for months, with grass growing through it. Working from opposite ends, we glue the pipes together until they’re long enough to go all the way from the drum, down the hill, to outside the bank. Several hundred feet in all. Navigating it up the slope through all the trees is an interesting challenge. But with a bit of coaxing, we line up the pipe. Next, I cut the bank’s water main with a hacksaw and attach it to the PVC pipe.
Aiden does a drum roll on the counter in the bank’s bathroom while I turn on the sink. Air sputters out for a bit, but then the faucet comes to life, pouring out water. We both let out a cheer. Caught up in the moment, we do a quick hug. Any observer would think it’s purely platonic, and that may be what Aiden thinks too. But it’s magical for me. Aiden’s muscular body presses against mine. The heat of his skin warms me, and I take in his scent. There’s a stirring down below, so I turn away from him, acting as if a dust ball in the corner is the most exciting thing in the room.
Then, the magnificent sound of the flushing toilet fills the room, followed by it filling back up. I turn to see Aiden next to the toilet, smiling. I cheer and pump my fists in the air. After a year of using outhouses, never has there been so much joy over a toilet flush. We attempt a high five but miss badly, then break up into a fit of laughter.Man, do I like him. I haven’t laughed this much since I was a kid. And laughing seems so easy between us.
After our strenuous morning, we take a well-deserved break. While Aiden’s snacking on cold corned beef hash from a can, I wander off to the bathroom. Staring back from the mirror is a person I don’t recognize. I’ve avoided mirrors in the last year. Splashing water on my face from the newly working faucet does nothing. All it seems to do is smear around the dirt and get my beard wet.
God, that beard.
I need to get rid of it. That and this massive mop of hair on my head. What I need is some hot water and soap, a scrub brush and a razor. Tomorrow, I’ll work on getting cleaned up.
After we’ve eaten, there’s still a few more hours of sunlight. So Aiden and I break down the logs we sawed up yesterday. Watching Aiden swing the ax is another exercise in sexual restraint for me. With each swing, his shoulders and lats flex. And his butt pushes out each time he bends over to pick up the logs.
Only Aiden’s wincing spoils the mood. Every few chops, he clutches his ribs and makes a grunting noise, which makes me feel a little guilty for forcing him to do all this strenuous work. But it reminds me of the sounds he made in his dream last night.
Between ax swings, I ask him, “Hey, Aiden. Who’s Marcus?”
He buries the ax in a log and stares at me with a hardened expression. “How do you know that name?”
“You were calling it out last night. During a dream.”
Aiden’s face darkens. He pulls the ax out and starts chopping wood harder than before. Between swings, he says, “He’s just a person I knew once.”
Okay, that’s a touchy subject. I take the hint and ask no more.
*
For dinner, I take the other rabbit from yesterday and put it on a spit. I make a campfire outside the bank and set up a stand so the rabbit can roast, rotating it occasionally.
We sit around the fire in two camp chairs I pulled out from my looted outdoor gear.
Aiden’s been quiet since I asked him about Marcus. Which kind of sucks because I’ve been planning on bringing up my idea of tagging along. I hope to find the right time to slip it into our conversation. But that’s hard to do when there is no conversation.
In a moment of inspiration, I run into the bank and bring out a guitar I found in a nearby home. What’s a campfire without some campfire songs, after all? Practicing the guitar has helped to pass the time.
