Page 5 of Scarred Mountain Man
I wake up, startled by a sound. It takes me a second to realize I’m not only on Pepys Island, I'm also sleeping in a stranger's cabin.
I get up, and that's when I hear a noise, someone grunting in pain. It's still dark, and I don't know where the flashlight is, so I just follow the sound.
Oliver is having a nightmare, I can tell. I crouch down close to him, I can't really see him outside of his outline.
"Hey," I whisper. He keeps struggling, he sounds so pained, so desperate, I want to make it okay. Touching him, first lightly, then shaking him slightly, I try to wake him up.
Suddenly, his hand shoots out, catching my arm. The strength of it nearly knocks me back.
“Fuck,” he rasps, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“It’s fine. I just lost my balance.”
"You shouldn't have touched me," he spits out.
He sounds mad. My heart squeezes at the same time my blood boils.
“I'm sorry for waking you up! You were having a bad dream. Is that so bad that I touched you?”
He looks so vulnerable. His eyes are still wide, horror carved into his face, and for a second I can’t breathe. He looks broken.
"Fuck no, Miranda. I'm sorry."
"I fucking hate rain," he grumbles, he's still breathing hard like his bad dream is lingering in his mind.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how to talk to people. Especially a beautiful woman like you."
"You think I'm beautiful?"
"Anyone who's sane would think you're beautiful."
"I don't think anyone's ever called me beautiful."
"Really?"
"Really." I don't know why I'm saying it. It sounds depressing. I've grown used to it by now. Why am I telling him that? I wave my hand. "It's not a big deal."
"Not even your parents?"
I chuckle. "They were never in the picture. I bounced between foster homes. The best thing that has ever happened to me was becoming an adult. I love to live by myself, to have my own independence, my own money so I can make my own decisions."
"But you still believe life is good."
He says it like a statement, like he already knows I’m like this. He's right, I really believe life is good, that life is a gift despite everything that has happened to me. And it really is. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
"I don't like to dwell on the bad. There's so much good out there, don't you think?"
I pause for a second. It's weird to be this trusting around someone, I'm much more comfortable being alone with my paints but, with him, I want to talk more.
"I believe life is good but I also don't spend a lot of time with people. I'm more comfortable being around nature, that's what I find magical you know? How a tree grows its roots, how fruits appear on their tree after a while, there's a lot of miracles around, don't you think? That's why I love to paint."
"You're a painter?"
"Yes. It's actually why I'm here. I wanted to have my own painting retreat somewhere isolated like the Almond Mountains."
"And yet you're stuck with me."
"I don't mind," I say quickly. Because I don't. I can't see him clearly but I could swear he's leaning closer.
