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Randy sat at the kitchen island and sketched Yashee at work. She was focused, carefully going through the motions of a recipe she had long memorized. He captured the expression on her face as she skillfully cracked eggs with one hand, steadying the large glass bowl in the other. She was, apparently, making pies. Several of them. Randy had been confined to the island early on for trying to dip his fingers in the cans of sweetened condensed milk. Raz’ul had been banned from the kitchen all together after he questioned her judgement on spices and attempted to divine Yashee’s secret ingredients. After three wrong guesses he was lovingly evicted for his “never ending questions.” She hummed to herself as a timer went off, and she shifted tasks, removing the pie dough and rolling it out. Randy was hit with a pang of... longing? Grief? He wasn’t quite sure. Confused and a little upset, he swept up his book and charcoal and hopped down. In an effort to conceal his panic movements he tried to explain away his speed.
“I think I’m gonna take a walk. I’ll be back soon.”
Not looking away from the pie dough she mumbled a small agreement. Randy left the kitchen and began the ritual of preparing to exit the dorms and the building. He was not built for cold weather, even though this early in the month it was barely scraping 35 degrees, he refused to go out without a good coat, boots, and gloves. He shuttered to think what true winters were like this far north. It was cold like this that made him miss the warm insulation of the forest leaves and evergreens. He plodded awkwardly through the warm plush carpets of the hallways til he reached the front doors. He was met with a gust of chilly wind and a smattering of rain. He tugged the ear flaps down lower and pulled the hat over his brow before stepping into the gloomy weather.
It was less raining then it was inconveniently launching freezing cold water into Randy’s face. But it was nice to be alone. He’d been cooped up in the dorms for the past two days studying and preparing for finals. He ~~loved~~ cared for Yashee and Raz’ul, but they were awful roommates. Raz’ul sheds like a nervous cat when gets stressed out and he bounced and rocked in every chair, which Randy didn’t blame him for. Yashee transferred her stress into food. She hadn’t stopped cooking for days now. Randy enjoyed the good food, but now every inch of kitchen was covered with Tupperware. Randy wasn’t used to the energy. He was sensitive to every mood swing in the dorm and it was stressing him out. The still late fall air soothed his tense nerves. His mother always warned him about walking around after dark, she wasn’t the only one to give that advice. Bit Randy didn’t really want to think about them or his mother. For now it was him, the night rain, and nothing else. He walked for a few hours, long past when he should have been back, but his Ira Glass was silent, so he kept on. By 2 or 3 in the morning, he didn’t quite know, he reaches his favorite spot on campus. It was a muddy creek that fed a muddy pond that fed some muddy aspen. He perched on the flat rock the sat on the edge of the creek and stared as the moonlight lit the water.
He ignored the rustling behind him. If it was animal foolish enough to be out in weather like this, then it was dumb enough to do as it pleased. If it *wasn’t* animal, then well, clearly either it wasn’t smart enough to be quiet, or it wanted him to hear it. Instead, Randy slowly worked off his leather gloves and tucked them away. He cracked his knuckles and dug out his sketchbook and charcoal. He sketched the pool as he waited for his watcher to make themselves know.
“On a night like this, a kid like you should be warm at home.” *Rhiannon*. He wasn’t surprised. It had been sometime since they’d seen each other, and even longer since he’d left ~~home?~~ the camp.
“You never did like my late night walks. What was it you used to call them? ‘Wastes of time that will get you killed.’ Weren’t those the good old days.” He continued sketching the pond, but he gripped the charcoal a little tighter. He didn’t want to go back, but he wasn’t sure he’d even have a choice. The sound of her shoes scuffing on the stones blended with the scuff of the pencil. She took a seat next him and twirled a small knife between her fingers.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Randall. Feeling a little homesick? We are nearing the ‘holidays’.” Rhiannon sneared on the last word, and Randy recalled her hatred of the holidays. She never talked about but Randy suspected that it had something to do with her time *before*.
“Can’t be homesick if you don’t have a home Rhi.” If she was going to press his buttons, then he was gonna press hers. She snarled and flipped the knife. She composed herself.
“You shouldn’t say such cruel things. The Nowhereman loves you, and he only wants you to be safe at home.”
“Ha, sure. I had forgotten how brainwashed you always were. ‘Don’t forget, no one else could ever love you.’ They don’t love us, they want us, and I don’t have any plans on walking right back into their arms.” He tucked the pencil back into its holder and carefully shut the book, placing it back into his bag. He stood and stepped barefoot into the pond. Turning he saw her, his old friend, his sister. He saw Rhiannon, one leg tucked under her chin and the other dangling above the pond, the soft moon shadowing her face. “Goodbye, Rhiannon. I’m going to go back to my friends now. It was, nice, to see you.”
“Goodbye, Randall. Don’t forget. No one else can ever love you. “ she stood and started to make her way back into the woods. “You’re never going to get too far from home, you’re always going to crawl right back.” She slipped into the night, leaving Randy feeling lonely, but decidedly not alone.