The chapel is across the little meadow where people are already setting up their tents. To the north there is a “bear-proof” kitchen concealed slightly by trees, but connected to the driveway. I look around, taking it all in from my place in the driveway. Everything looks the same as I remember it from years ago. “That’s ridiculous,” Aaron says, coming up behind me. “She can sleep in my tent.” I turn towards him, and his hand goes to the small of my back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mrs. White says. “Where are you going to sleep?” “In my tent,” he says. “I still don’t--” Aaron stops his mom in mid-sentence. He gets a little closer, looks her in the eyes and smiles. “It’s fine. We can use the tent with the divider and it’s only for tonight.” He breaks his gaze. “Maybe that would work,” Mrs. White says nodding. *** I walk noiselessly along the path. I’m just slightly ahead of Aaron, letting the moon light my way. Everyone goes on a midnight hike the first night of. They were barely more than tatters now, appearing at oncemoth-eaten and melted, but with no sign of deliberate mischief. Bits offabric clung to the moistened leaves of the shrub as he peeled themaway. His tunic was useless, a sticky mess which he flung to theground. His pants were little better, but by selectively tearing theirremains into strips, he fashioned a crude loincloth. He shoes, made ofbuckskin, were pitted with tiny holes but usable. He cursed his ruinedoutfit but dressed anyway and listened as warm breezes washed through thebranches around him. He heard the throaty grumble of his pony close by, butthe equestrian sounds were also of exertion and he came upon the b**stsurrounded by an astonishing looking bit of greenery; gigantic andpitcher-shaped, it perched beneath the bronco's belly and had clearlyattached itself to the stallion.The boy approached to get a closer look. The stallion eyed him and jerkedhis hind quarters and whinnied softly. The plant, which anchored itself.
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