“You ready, skink?” she asked. “I need a bath like you need another tail.”
He’d lost his recently. Some danger had threatened, and being the amazing creature he was, he gave them the tail—the lizard version of the middle finger, except… he literally gave them the tail. But it’d grow back with time.
She stared at the lizard on her shoulder, but it didn’t talk back. This was a good sign. Perhaps she wasn’t losing her mind after all.
The ten minute trek to the small hot springs she used to bathe wasn’t too hard. She stayed away from the trails, moving through the trees instead, until she was deep into the woods. People ventured this way occasionally, but it was rare. And when they did, it was usually love-stricken couples looking for a remote romantic location. They ignored her and found somewhere else to makeout.
She’d chosen this land as hers because of the no hunting laws. She was aware it was private property, and that she was trespassing. But if they couldn’t find her, they couldn’t kick her out. And she was very, very good at hiding.
But it wasn’t until spring that she’d discovered the lodge tucked away in the mountains near the lake. The no hunting made sense now. With the business nearby, it would be dangerous for hunters to be roaming the woods.
Still. It didn’t keep the guns away entirely. There was the occasional poacher from time to time. That was how she’d come into possession of one of the most disgusting things she’d ever had to utilize in her years in the woods. And that was saying something, considering she’d run out of toilet paper several times.
Clara approached the steaming springs, scanning her surroundings to make sure there wasn’t anyone around. She closed her eyes and listened closely, tuning her ears to the sounds of the forest. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She breathed in the moist mountain air, holding it a few seconds before pushing it back out.
She was alone. Just as she wanted to be.
She opened her eyes, slipping the backpack from her shoulder, and her skink from the other one. She set them both on a nearby rock. Skink scurried into a golden sunray and his eyes closed.
Digging through her supplies, she found the soap and began stripping off her clothes. She’d wash the deer scent off her body first, then from her clothes. She brought the items to her nose, testing.
Her head jerked back and she coughed, gagging.
Or maybe she’d just throw them away.
But no, she needed the jeans. Pants that fit her short legs were hard to find, and she’d need them desperately come winter.
She took the clothes and soap with her to the water and slowly waded in. The heat felt good on her sore muscles. She needed more vitamin B. More greens. She ate the edible ones in the forest, but she’d look at the lodge next time. They probably had fresh spinach.
After setting the smelly clothes on the ground next to the springs, Clara dunked her head beneath the surface of the gurgling water, wetting her thick hair. The harsh, unscented soap was bad for her coarse latino strands, but she was desperate to get the deer attractant off of her. She smelled like hundred year old piss. She’d take the frizzy hair over that any day of the week.
She worked up a lather and spread it through her hair, massaging it all the way down to her scalp. Then she made sure to cover every inch of her body with it.
“Take that, one hundred year old piss,” she muttered, rinsing with the warm water.
She leaned back against the rock, lifting one leg in the air to examine it. Damn. She’d forgotten to look for a razor at the lodge. Finding one that hadn’t been used already was going to be tricky, but her old one couldn’t cut a peach’s fuzz. And besides, she was up for the challenge. The hardest to find items gave her the most satisfaction.
She’d give it a few days though, because the thought of donning doe urine again so soon made her want to hurl.
Using the soap and a rock, she scrubbed her clothes clean, giving up on the tank top. Then she wrung them out and set them in the sun to dry. Resting on the rock next to her skink, she let the remaining rays of the sun lap up the water from her body.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her two ratted notebooks. They were identical on the outside, but inside, they contained very different writings. She opened the one that had a pen sticking out of the spiral, and flipped to a blank page.
Today was a good day. Cool nights have arrived, but I don’t dread the coming winter as much as I usually might. I’ll miss Skink and the animals of course, but still, after living in the woods for all this time, I’ve never been more sure that this is what my life should be. I have no desire to reinsert myself back into humanity. I’m a woman in love. With the solitude. With the loneliness. I’m as happy as I deserve to be. It was a good day.