Hey Joe
Fictional story, fictional everything that's in it. I can't play guitar like Jimi Hendrix and have nothing to do with AI. I've never been to Fantasy Fest, done body-painting, or been body-painted. My thanks to Mormon Jack for reviewing the story and his kind comments. Responsibility for errors, typos, etc. belongs to me. If you didn't like my previous stories, don't bother with this one.
"Hi, honey. Is everything okay?" Tina rarely called me during office hours, so I picked up as soon as I saw she was calling.
"Yes and no. I'm fine."
"So?" I was in the middle of reviewing an important contract and wanted to get back to it.
"Remember your old friend Matthew?"
"My old friend Matthew... Yeah; our old friend. How long is it since we've seen or spoken with him? At least thirty years."
"Something like that. I just ran into him near the Salvation Army shelter."
"That's interesting." This conversation was lasting too long; I had to get back to the document. "Tell me about it when we get home."
"Joe, he's homeless. He lives at the shelter. Sometimes there's no room for him and he sleeps on the street."
"Whoa, that's terrible. Let's talk tonight if there's any way we can help him out."
"Joe, he's emaciated, dressed in rags, and hasn't washed in a long time."
"I told you, we'll work out a way to help him get back on his feet. That's what friends do. What happened to his wife, what's her name... Amal?"
"I didn't ask him about that yet."
"Okay, when we get home. I have a contra—"
"Joe, you're an AI project manager at a major IT company. We've got a nice secure roof over our heads. Your former best friend is sleeping on the street. I want to bring him home with me."
I wasn't excited by that idea. Not all our memories together were good. I didn't have time to argue, so I joked. "Do we have to talk to him with that cheesy— I mean hip lingo we used to use?"
She laughed. "Keep on truckin', honey. See you later."
Matthew had been a friend in high school, university, and for a couple of years following. We spent a lot of time together, going camping, clubbing, or just hanging out. We didn't make it to Woodstock but grooved at a bunch of folk festivals. Together with Tina, Matthew and I had perfected the art of being weekend hippies. We smoked weed from time to time, and peddled a bit of hash, smoking away our profit. I never dropped acid. The one time I took mescaline, I couldn't get it up for a week afterward. Tina concluded we shouldn't use drugs anymore. Whenever Matthew would be preoccupied with a new girlfriend, he would lose touch with Tina and me, coming back to us when they split up. When he started with Amal, it quickly changed from being "preoccupied" to being oblivious about anyone else in his life. Tina and I pretty much forgot him, despite the adventures we had shared. Now he was back.
********************************
"Left! Now! Paddle left!"
"Watch out for that rock, Matthew!"
"Come on Joe, j-stroke. Help me here."
"Tina, push us away from that tree sticking out of the water. Keep us pointing downstream... Don't push so hard; you'll tip the canoe."
"You're going to kill me, Joe. You said this was an easy set of rapids."
"It is, sweetie. Relatively speaking."
"Fuck you and your relatively— ahh! Matthew, watch out!"
Matthew turned and grinned at Tina. "I got it."
"Fuck you, Matthew," I yelled. "Turn around and keep your eyes on where we're going. You almost... shit— Take the channel to the left of the rock, not the right."
Matthew had to paddle hard to get there. Tina had to push off to keep the side of our canoe from slamming into the boulder. The sighs of relief were audible as the class III rapids gave way to fast-moving but calmer water.
Tina was in the center of the canoe. I was at the stern, Matthew in the bow. She looked back at me. "I hope this was the worst of it. I don't know if my pants are wet from being splashed, or whether I peed myself in fright."
I leered at her. "I can check that out if you take them off."
"Joe, Matthew is here." I could hear, rather than see the frown on her face.
I started paddling. "Matthew, paddle hard on your right. Tina, you too."
"We're going to hit shore."
"We'd better." I pointed at a small clearing, which was silly, because I was behind both of them. They couldn't see me. "Land the canoe there."
"Why? The water is relaxing here. Let's go with the flow."
"See the sign?"
Matthew shook his head. "No."
"I see it," Tina said. "Portage."
We were in a wilderness park that had few amenities. I planned our route before we started the trip. The portage took us around a small waterfall that expert canoeists might be able to handle, but I was the only one of our group who was more than a novice. I winced as the bow of our boat slid onto the soil between two trees; Matthew jumped out and pulled us farther onto the ground. Tina turned around and looked at me. I nodded; she clambered off the front of the canoe. Both of them went to sit on a fallen-over tree trunk. We were in an old part of the boreal forest, surrounded by tall spruce trees, broad pines and the occasional birch. The trees were densely spaced; it was possible to walk between them, but it wouldn't be easy. Fortunately, the start of the portage was clearly marked.
"Let's unload."
Tina clasped her hands above her head and stretched. "Why? We did one set of rapids; let's do the next."
"We're doing the portage. I like adventure, not suicide."
Matthew looked at her chest as she stretched. "Are you sure you don't want Joe to check out your wet pants, or maybe your damp blouse?"
I wasn't sure whether to slug Matthew or laugh. At least he didn't ask to check her out himself. Since he broke up with his latest sweetheart, he spent a lot of time with Tina and me. This was the summer break before our senior year of college.
"Come on. We've got to get our canoe out of the way in case someone else comes along." I pointed to the ground near the bow. "See the fresh tracks in the mud? Someone else has come through lately. I don't want anyone to end up in the waterfall because we didn't give them place to pull in."
It didn't take long to get the canoe out of the way. It was hard work, and with the humidity we were soon bathed in sweat. Matthew pulled his shirt off trying to cool down, and Tina whistled.
Matthew wasn't an athlete or gym rat, but was in good shape. "Why don't we all take our threads off," he suggested.
"We're going to carry our canoe through a forest. There are branches, there are bugs that would have a good time with our skin. Tuck your pants into your boots, put your shirt on, roll down your sleeves and button up as best you can. Maybe there will be a spot where we can cool off at the end of the portage. In the meantime, I'll dig out the insect repellant."
Tina followed my instructions, but Matthew insisted on going shirtless. He lathered himself with repellant, asking Tina to do his back and shoulders. "You're going to be scratched and bitten by the time we reach the end," I said.
He turned to face Tina. "Want to do my front? I may have missed a spot or two."
Tina shook her head. "Next time you'll do your own back, asshole."
His smirk faded. "Whoa! Downer... sorry." He turned from Tina to me and repeated himself. "Sorry, man."
I lined my friends up alongside the canoe, putting Matthew in front. He was stronger than me, and the portage went downhill. Tina took the middle, and I took the stern.
"Tina, you want the center yoke resting on your shoulders. Matthew, try to align the bow seat with your head, so if your arms are too sore, you can shift some of the weight. We're going to be blind behind you, so give us a running commentary of what we're walking into, and what we have to watch out for."
"What about the backpacks," Tina asked. "Are you leaving your guitar here?"
"Anyone who comes ashore where we did is going to have to come this way, unless they want to go over the waterfall, which would destroy the guitar anyways. We'll see them."
"How long is the portage?"
"We'll bring the canoe, rest a few minutes to catch our breath, then come back for them. I think it's about two hundred feet, but I don't know how rough it is."
It was rugged: steep and narrow, with uneven footing. As we approached the end I could hear the waterfall, and spotted what looked like a makeshift rack to put the canoe on. We were all sweating, Matthew especially. His skin glistened from all the effort.
"You should clean the scrape on your elbow, and wash off the repellant," Tina told him. "We'll get water from the river."
"The first aid kit is in your backpack. Let's rest a few minutes and then go back for our stuff."
Tina lifted and examined his elbow. "It's bleeding. Let's go now. You need an antiseptic."
"Let me rest."
"I'll touch your handsome chest if we go now."
Matthew stood straight. "Let's go, then." He took her hand.
She shook him off and tweaked each of his nipples. "Eww, you're so sweaty." She wiped her palm on the side of his jeans, and looked to see if I was upset with her touching him.
I smirked. "Let's get our stuff." She grinned.
We put our backpacks on a large, dry rock, and Tina looked for the first aid kit. I rummaged in mine, looking for the bar of soap. "We should wash first."
Matthew pointed at a clump of bushes. "That looks like a trail. I'll check it out." He returned two minutes later, accompanied by two men about our age. Both were naked, except for towels over their shoulders. He pointed to the first. "Neil," and the second, "Boris." He then introduced me to his new friends. "This beautiful young lady is Tina." Neil and Boris immediately sprouted erections.
"Uh, why are you guys naked?" I glanced at my girlfriend, who was staring at the new guys.
"We showered under the waterfall. We're drying off in the sun, relaxing. The bugs aren't too bad here," Boris said.
"Where's your canoe?" He pointed up the trail but looked at Tina, who was staring at him. "See something you like?" He covered his crotch with his hands, and turned sideways.
"What is that?"