Chapter Text
What was it that made me agree to this? Jason thought as he trudged up the rugged trail.
It was his first time backpacking in the country's most expansive national park: Spring Meadows.
Oftentimes, it was a place of natural attraction; what with towering mountain ranges, receding cliffs, towering evergreen trees, complete with its namesake, meadows with hot springs.
Recently, it was where Jason's Uncle Randy became the park's lead regional manager, and he had invited Jason to take him on his first visit to Spring Meadows.
"Afterall, it was just the place people would go to, just to get away from it all", Jason's dad cheesily quoted from the park's commercial (it was never updated, so it always appeared in black-and-white on the TV screen).
"Yeah, away from their pathetic suburban bubbles", Jason sarcastically replied to his dad as the hiking veteran that he was, lovingly added some of his old gear into his pack.
"Well Jason. Think of it like this- you're never going to have a better opportunity to make memories in your youth than now!
"Plus, how else are you gonna show off all those skills I paid for you to learn in Scouts?"
And with that comment, his old man belly-laughed, slapping Jason's back. The exasperated 14- year- old rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his mouth from making any further statements.
His Scouts experience was one of the worst memories for Jason, as he was dropped off wearing his dad's Scouts uniform that barely fit him. The other boys laughed at him as he stood out like a sore thumb; the uniform colors and hat had changed since fifteen years ago.
The new uniforms then were more sophisticated and professional - looking. Jason looked like he belonged in the Cub division with his baggy pickle-green uniform shirt and highwater pants (his dad was on the heavier and shorter side than he was at his age) with a yellow- patterned ball cap finished with a faded red worn brim, handkerchief, and wagging flag on his pack to match.
The rest of the Beaver division wore gray uniforms with wide-brimmed leather ranger hats and burgundy handkerchiefs.
"Hey bozo! Tell your pops the circus is the other way!", one scout jeered, and the whole division erupted with laughter. Even the scout master stiffled a snark reaction from behind his attendance clipboard.
All the excitement and anxious nerves he had worked up on the drive up to the small lake dissipated from the then 9-year-old Jason. He grew beat-red in the face, clashing with the red he was wearing, and scooted to the edge of the division's end. All eyes glued to him.
He knew the entire month was going to be hell, and nothing like his dad hyped it up to be.
When he got back, his dad asked "So! How was it, bud?"
All Jason could muster was a fake grin and a lie. "It was a blast! Thank you for taking me, Papa!". He would never shoot down his father for trying to do something for him, especially after his mother passed away, and he knew his dad only wanted to do the best job he could as a single parent. Money was always tight, but he never made that an excuse to try and spoil his son when he could.
So that's why Jason had to lie to him.
Even now.
"You're right", he said with a side-long smile as his dad patted heavily on his shoulder approvingly.
In truth, the only thing Jason got out of his experience from Scouts was to- as much as he can- avoid the older, tougher boys in the division who actually used their skills to their advantage when they decided to prey on him for fun.
That's right; they were the preditors, and he was their prey.
At least this time, Jason was going to be with someone he knew. Well, sort of, anyway.
Uncle Randy, much like his younger brother, was a seasoned outdoorsman. He probably only saw him when he was a toddler, back when his mom was still alive.
He was a large man just like his dad, though a bit stouter with age and a beer belly in recent pictures.
"I wish I could go with ya, but somebody's gotta run the ol' shack", the man said as he then pulled his lanky son into his sturdy arms that made him feel like a toothpick ready to snap.
"I'll miss you, Pa", he stiffled to breathe as he hugged him back. His arms barely reaching around his father's broad, oil-stained sleeves.
"Call me when you get there! Now get a move on before you miss your bus!"
And without a moment to lose, Jason stumbled out of their cramped mobile home, still adjusting to the uneven weight of his pack, while walking backwards, waving one last time to his dad before turning around and jogged to the street corner where his bus would arrive.
The bus was empty as it was the earliest one of the day, and it would only make the stop to the tram once a week (which would be a 3 hour drive). Jason hastily swung his backpack to the side against the sliding door to retrieve his bus ticket. The old driver briefly flinched as he handed it to her.
"Spring Meadows, huh?", she said as she punched the ticket. "Haven't ya heard the talk going round about that godforsaken hell hole?"
"No, Ma'am, I haven't " Jason replied frankly. The driver was always in a sour mood and would constantly grumble some gossip to herself between stops.
"Well, better keep your head 'bout ya, ya hear? Too many damn teenagers snooping around trying to find some bigfoot tomfoolery in the middle of the woods by themselves- not a clue as to what they're doing- and ended up getting attacked by them cougars and bears.
"No damn common sense, if you ask me" she grumbled, shaking her head as Jason nodded in agreement and walked over to the back of the bus.
He plopped down in a window seat, swinging his large pack next to him. As the bus took off, Jason glanced one last look at the street his mobile home was on before it dissapered from view.
It'll be the first time he had left home since Scouts.
Trying not to feel too sentimental, he took out his walkman strapped to his cargo pants, along with a flimsy string of earbuds. He turned the port ever-so-slightly until he could hear even feedback from both buds, listening to a song that didn't even record from the beginning as it was taped from an FM radio station.
He closed his eyes as he knew his stop was going to be the last on this bus ride, placing his fingers on the rewind and play buttons for when his tape ended, and drifted to sleep.