LANGUAGE OF LOVE, CHAPTER 1
A Ford Explorer jostled down the Forest Service road, trailing a wide plume of light brown dust. Anyone following would have had to stop in their tracks, for a few minutes, to give the choking particulate matter a chance to settle. There was nobody for miles around, though, as the vehicle had turned off of a lightly-trafficked highway nearly three hours earlier.
"
I'll bet you anything,
" the girl began.
"
They're doing each other,
" completed the boy. They were sitting in the back seat of the bouncing Ford, holding hands.
"Would you guys stop already!" said the woman driving the SUV, exasperated. "Hank, please tell your son to use English!"
"Right after you get your daughter to," replied Hank, from the passenger seat. He was laughing softly. The woman groaned theatrically.
"
I bet you they'll make some excuse for staying at the trail head after dropping us off,
" continued the girl, seemingly oblivious to her mom's frustration.
"
What'll you bet?
" asked the boy.
"
Foot rub?
" ventured the girl.
"
Hmm, sounds nice, but I'm gonna get one anyway. And,
" he started.
"
You know you'd lose,
" completed the girl. The boy squeezed her hand in acknowledgment.
"Hank, I know they're talking about us!" the woman continued. The large man shrugged. "And I think they're completing each other's sentences again."
"How can you tell?"
"From, like, how they're pausing and stuff. It's creepy!"
"I dunno," Hank replied, "they seem happy. And this is all about their birthday present, so we gotta indulge them."
The pair in the backseat, now both eighteen years old, had been born about twenty-three hours apart.
"Do we ever not indulge them?"
"Do we ever not indulge each other?" Hank riposted.
"Fair point," the woman conceded. A smile crept over her face, as she considered what manner of indulgence was about to come her way.
"
She forgot about us already!
" the boy said.
"
All she really cares about is gettin' Chocolate Bear's pants off,
" the girl suggested. They squeezed each other's hands in mutual agreement, turned to face each other, and grinned. It took all of their self-control not to burst out laughing.
Ten minutes later, the black vehicle, encrusted with dust, pulled into a crude parking area at the very end of the Forest Service road. There were no other cars. Before everyone unloaded, Hank informed them, "We might, uh, hang out here for a bit, to catch up on messages and stuff."
He was worried the kids might see the car still there, from the trail, and then wonder if they were having mechanical problems.
"
Dad didn't notice there's no cell reception here,
" the boy said. He gripped the girl's hand with desperation now, narrowly staving off another round of uproarious laughter.
X X X X
"Are you two sure you're gonna be okay without your phones?" the woman asked.
"Mom, we're, like, safer out here than back home," the girl said, hugging the older woman. The gesture was awkward with a fifty-pound backpack on her back.
"Here, you might need this," her mom said, slipping a metal object into her daughter's hand.
"What is it?" the girl asked.
"Maker's."
The girl flushed red, and hurriedly stowed the flask in her pack.
"Um, thanks, mother."
The boy had just finished saying his goodbyes to his dad, and was heading over to the two women.
"
What'd she say?
" he asked, noting the girl's red face.
"
She gave me some bourbon,
" she explained.
"
That's very,
" he started.
"
Sandy,
" she continued.
"
Then again, it's very,
" he said.
"
Linda too,
" she completed. Linda was the boy's mom. "
What do you think her and dad are up to right now?
"
"Kids! I'm standing right here!" Sandy exclaimed. "Stop with the Freech! Or whatever the fuck you call it."
"Sorry!" the pair said, in perfect unison. This only seemed to aggravate Sandy more.
"Okay, gotta go, or we'll be setting up our tent in the dark!" said the girl, hurriedly. She kissed her mom briefly on the lips, as did the boy. She took his hand, then marched off, towing him behind her, in the direction of the trail head. "Bye, uncle Hank!" she shouted, over her shoulder.
X X X X
"Do you think it's okay for them to be off by themselves?" Sandy asked. She and Hank were sitting in the back seat of the Explorer.
"Isn't it a little late to be the responsible parent?" Hank replied.
"Yeah, I guess so," Sandy said, not offended in the slightest. Hank marveled as the concern that had been so evident on her face mere moments before disappeared in an instant. She leaned towards her brother-in-law. "So, time to check our 'messages'?"
"I got you a message right here," Hank said pointing towards his midsection with both index fingers. He had intended for this motion to come across as suggestive and mildly lewd. The effect, however, was spoiled by the fact that Sandy was already unbuckling his belt. Several minutes later, had the two hikers turned around, which they did not, they would have seen the SUV gently rocking from side to side.
X X X X
The teenagers did not think to look back, having already walked past the trail head, up a small incline, and around a corner. Once they were out of sight, the girl felt a gentle wave of relaxation radiate across her body. The boy felt the same sensation. They almost always did, when they transitioned from being together, among other people, to being all by themselves. The effect was more pronounced at this moment, knowing that not only were they alone, but that, once the two adults finished whatever they were doing, nobody else would be anywhere near them. Both experienced backpackers, they had chosen an obscure trail that was not well-maintained, not well-publicized, and which required a long drive to even reach.
They were feeling garrulous; the conversation was non-stop. Had an eavesdropper been around, however, they would not have recognized a single word being said. The two were speaking a language that was a combination of Pig Latin, a variation on Pig Latin called Earz, and a number of nouns and verbs selected from Finnish and Hungarian. They had begun speaking the language with each other at age nine, in order to have secret conversations in front of close friends and family. At first, they just used Pig Latin. They practiced continually, and could speak it so fluidly that nobody could understand them. Or so they thought. After a few months, Linda, the boy's mom, let slip that she knew they wanted to pitch a tent in her backyard, something they'd only ever discussed in -- supposed -- secret.
This kicked off a minor arms race, of sorts, in which the kids evolved their made-up tongue into an ever-more complicated form. First they folded in Earz, figuring that using both it and Pig Latin at the same time would be too mind-bending for anyone else to follow. They were smart enough, having learned their lesson from last time around, to conduct tests that would validate the security of their communications. Sure enough, after a while, Sandy slipped up and, as her sister had, revealed a secret the kids had deliberately never spoken of in English.
The ultimate form of the language solidified when they were ten. They began adding in words from Finnish and Hungarian, chosen for their lack of cognates with English. Both kids began using the Dualinga app to build up familiarity with the two tongues, and regularly practiced new vocabulary with each other. Since they still applied the rules of Pig Latin and Earz to the foreign words, even someone who knew either language would have great difficulty recognizing anything. The pair dubbed their language Fraytch, which was a portmanteau of "Finnish", an "R" sound, just because it sounded good, and the "aitch" sound people used to describe the letter "H". "H" stood for Hungarian.
For the first hour, the trail wound its way, uphill, through a forest of pine trees. Where possible, they held hands, but let go whenever it got too narrow. They spent most of the time discussing college. They were both to attend the local university, which would save on cost as they could continue to live at home. Excellent students both, with nearly identical academic strengths and interests, they were planning on applying to the Mechanical Engineering department as sophomores. They were strategizing how to pack enough credits into their first year to have the right prerequisites so early on.
"
Thank God you pushed for us to take AP Statistics,
" the girl said, at one point. "
I don't see how this would work otherwise.
"
"
You saved my ass in that class,
" the boy said.
"
Aw, shucks,
" she said. For some reason, he had struggled with the teacher's explanations of statistical concepts. She had helped, to be sure, but not to the degree he seemed to think. "
But I'll accept a kiss as a way of saying 'thank you,'
" she added.
The boy kissed her on the lips, something that they did a few times each day, for one reason or another. This time, when he kissed her, she felt a faint, electric tingle shoot from her navel up to her chest. The boy felt something similar, too.
"
Hmm,
" she said.
"
Hmm what?
" he asked.
"
Just hmm.
"
They had just reached the border of the pine forest. In front of them was a rocky plateau. The trail was nowhere in sight. They got out a topological map and compass, but despite years of experience, could not come to an agreement about which way to go. The part of the trail they could see did not correspond to what was on the map at all. The boy, mostly operating on a hunch, felt they should continue straight, and the girl felt they should follow a dried-up creek bed that led off to their left.
They entered into a brief, heated argument about which direction to take. This was not unusual for the pair. Since neither one felt nervous around the other, they tended to express themselves without any filter or artifice, and, as a result, often found points of conflict. "You two sound like an old married couple," Linda liked to say when they would get into it. She could rarely understand what they were saying, but could tell from their tone of voice when they were bickering. These conflagrations were inevitably short-lived. Their usual mode of reconciliation was to get out a notepad -- they always had a notepad handy -- and write out the pros and cons of each other's point of view. Furthermore, each of them had to, in good faith, briefly take the other's side and attempt to argue their point. In most cases, this resulted in a logical resolution to whatever they were disagreeing about. Their parents marveled at this, and frequently gave each other grief for being so much less mature.
In this particular case, however, there was no obvious way to determine who was right. The trail, on the topological map, appeared to be drawn incorrectly. They had a solution for this sort of problem, too: rock, paper, scissors. Or rather, a variant of the well-known game. It was difficult for them to play as most people would, because they could read each other's micro-expressions too well, and guess, with high probability, what the other would choose. Neither could explain how, exactly, but they had proven it many times over. It spoiled the game for them, turning it from a way to generate a random result, into a battle of who could react faster to the other's body language.
Thus it was that, having determined no logical way to resolve the conflict, the pair turned their backs on each other. The boy made a fist with his right hand, and the girl flattened hers. They turned around.
"
Awww!
" the boy whined.
"
The fates are with me!
" the girl crowed.
"
Nerd!
"
"
You're one to talk!
"
They headed down the gulley. After about thirty seconds, the argument was forgotten, and they picked up a discussion of Settlers of Qatan strategy, a continuation of a debate they had begun on the previous day. It was easily their favorite board game. Not only did they track wins and losses against each other -- she was ahead by fifteen victories at the moment -- they most enjoyed playing together as a team, in a two-versus-two variant. In the local region, they were the top-ranked co-ed team within their age bracket. Nearly half an hour passed, and they barely noticed the terrain, so engrossed they were in their discussion. Suddenly, the boy realized that the ground beneath their feet was a lot flatter than it had been: they had stumbled across the trail again.
"
Dang, I guess you were right,
" he conceded.
