This Will Hurt

© Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved. You may not copy or share this work without my written permission. Please respect creative ownership.

-----

"This will hurt," Aan warned with a worried glance. She pulled and then shoved Dee's arm before either of them could change their minds, and the shoulder slipped back into its socket with a wet snap. He clenched his teeth with a force of will, squeezing his eyes shut in a bid to outlast the fading agony.

Afraid of being cuffed, Aan stepped away and watched Dee struggle with the pain of his cradled arm. He was a large man, broad shouldered and toughened by his former lifestyle. His eyes were blue in contrast to her dark brown ones; in fact, they were as different as any two humans could be, save their eyes were both filled with anxiety and suffering. And, their bodies were both leaner and sun-scorched from their last few days of hardships.

She bit her lower lip as she worried about their predicament. Dee had been great at finding food for them, but the shoulder would hinder him in no small way.

"Try to move your fingers," she offered after a few minutes, studying him with her dark, almond eyes. "See if the pain is less."

He grunted and experimented a moment before nodding. "That was far worse than the original injury," he commented, taking deep breaths to regain his composure. The fall had been bad enough, and he knew he should feel lucky to have gotten off so lightly, even if it felt like the muscles behind his shoulder were torn.

Aan nodded. "You were fortunate. We really should move if you can. Maybe we'll find a still place in the river like we did the other day."

Dee grimaced as he wiggled his wrist. With his good arm, he grabbed the stout stick he had found at the river's edge two days ago and used it to stand. Gravity pulled at his wounded shoulder, but he ignored the dulled throbbing as best he could, following Aan's petite form out from under the rock ledge.

They continued along the river, each silently bearing the pangs of constant hunger and dwindling hope. The day before yesterday they had found an eddy with fish lazy enough to be caught. But, it had taken an enormous amount of effort to catch the fish and get a fire lit. Then it had been an equal amount of trouble to get any meat away from the bones and scales. The scream of a gliding hawk seemed to enunciate the fact that though this land teemed with life, it was beyond their reach.

After several hours of picking their way along the rocky shoreline, Dee saw several pieces of dry wood and a large eddy. "Aan, this may be a good place to stop for the day, so we have extra time to find food. The pit in my stomach is warring with my shoulder and my fried skin for my attention."

She looked around her for a second before nodding, inwardly relieved that he had mentioned stopping before she was forced to ask. She could smell herself enough now to be bothered by it, though oddly enough, Dee's body odor seemed to be less irritating.

"Let's do ourselves a favor tonight, and try to get clean in the water," she suggested. When he glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, she scowled and added, "I need your warmth at night to keep from freezing. It does not mean I enjoy smelling you. Please do me the favor." She was relieved that he winced and turned away. Perhaps she had misunderstood his questioning look.

"I'll get firewood and take care of business while you wash then," Dee stated before making his way into the tree line.

Aan waited several heartbeats before shedding her clothes and taking a few timid steps into the water, pausing to twist her long black hair and hold it in a ball above her head. The calm patch of river was almost shockingly cold, and it made her dizzy to have such sudden relief against her overheated skin in conjunction with the pain of her goose pimples. It was an odd reminder of how badly the sunburn hurt on top of everything else, and how much worse Dee's fair skin must be bothering him.

She rubbed a free hand over her skin as roughly as she could stand and let go of her bladder. It was a simple pleasure to not have to squat behind a tree again, and she had to fight the urge to wash her filthy clothes. She'd be naked while they dried, or she would freeze in wet clothes once the sun went down; neither of those options was acceptable.

If only the plane had not burned before we could get supplies from it, she wished for the hundredth time. Priding herself on her practicality was one thing, but the near hopelessness of the situation stretched her emotional control like a rubber band that quivers the second before it breaks.

She stayed in the water as long as she dared before scanning the tree line and going to her clothes. Vowing to bathe in the heat of the day next time, she shivered and fingered her nasty clothes. After hesitating a moment longer, she compromised by shoving her underclothes in her jeans pocket to be washed and worn later.

It was not long after she settled onto a giant boulder to watch the river that Dee came back with a pile of berries cupped in the end of his shirt. "You won't find any of these sour things in the supermarket, but they seem to be edible. Some kind of grape, I'd guess; I cleaned the vine."

"Thanks," she said gratefully as she took two handfuls. Sour she could stand, so long as it helped fill the void in her stomach. "I'll turn my back while you wash up, but you should hurry before the sun loses any more of its warmth; that water is chilly."

"If you insist," he chuckled. She heard him drop his clothing in a pile and wade in. His whoo echoed off the rocks, and he cried, "It feels like there should be ice in here. Making me shrivel to nothing." Aan found herself fighting a tired smile as Dee continued to carry on like a little boy.

"I think our smell scared away all the fish," he guessed after he had put his clothes back on and joined her. "I did not even see any small ones."

"Maybe," she conceded, "but I bet we sleep better now that we are cleaner."

"I'd much rather have a stomach full of fish than a breath of clean air," Dee winced as he massaged his injured shoulder.

"We will figure something else out," Aan said hopefully. "Can you show me how you started the fires? Maybe I can get it going tonight since your shoulder must be bothering you."

"That would be an understatement," Dee nodded and wiggled a small rock out of his pocket, grateful for any help he could get. "Here's the rock I used last night. Find some dry kindling like leaves and this brown grass while I find another rock with a good striking surface."

Before long, Dee came back with a fairly large rock cradled in his good arm and dumped it beside her small pile of kindling.

"Now, granted I am no master woodsman," Dee declared with a self-depreciating air as he crouched beside her, "but I've always found it best to use the smallest stuff I can and try to angle any sparks into the dry grass. You can always add the small sticks and then the larger sticks once the fire has caught, but I know if you add them too quickly you can suffocate the fire and make it go out."

Aan nodded patiently. She felt immeasurably better since she had warmed up from her bath. "And what is the trick with the rocks?"

"I'm less sure on that. I just strike the rocks at an angle until I can get a spark. The grittiness of the rock I carry around helps, I think. And this larger rock I found should make it easier."

Aan looked dubiously at the setup. It seemed unlikely that she could cause a spark to go right where she needed it.

"Try it," Dee encouraged. "Just experiment until you get comfortable–-"

He broke off suddenly and reached for his walking stick. Aan followed his gaze and was surprised to find a lean dog staring at them from the edge of the trees, eyes glowing as they caught the waning light of the setting sun. Even more surprising was Dee's reaction, for he jumped to his feet and raced at the dog, waving the stick wildly about him with his good arm and yelling at it to go away. Just as quickly, it scrambled back into the trees, and he returned with a satisfied look. His face split into a grin when he saw her baffled stare.

"That, Aan, was our first competition here, and I wanted to make sure it did not return to its pack thinking we were food. I think we should build a larger fire tonight, just in case."

"In case what?" Aan was almost too afraid to ask.

"Well, in case that dingo brings its friends back for another look." Aan shivered at the thought of a dog looking hungrily at her. Dee saw her reaction and added, "I am sure there's much easier game around to keep them happy, but I just want to be cautious. I'll go find more wood."

With that, he left her to tackle the problem of starting the fire. She tapped the larger rock with the stone in her hand a few times to get the feel for it. Then she hit the rocks together a little harder as she worked up her courage. Still she got no result. Part of her wished Dee had stayed a minute to make sure she was doing it correctly but, then again, she hoped she could have the fire going by the time he got back. Gripping the smaller rock more firmly this time, she struck down as hard as she dared. The larger rock shifted under the impact, and she let out a yelp of pain as the rock scraped off her skin.

"What is it?" She heard Dee's voice call from the trees, and frustration turned to anger.

"You do this damn thing," she shouted back, gripping her injured hand. She scowled at him as he hurried to the camp with a small bundle of sticks under his arm.

"What happened?" he asked as he neared and dropped his pile of wood.

"The damn rock cut me," Aan fumed. "If you had not left so soon–-"

"Hey," he interrupted soothingly, taking her injured hand to inspect it and then looking into her eyes. "Partners, remember? We gotta stick together and survive together. I'm sorry I did not help more, but I really wanted to find us more wood for tonight and in the morning when we'll really need it."

Tears threatened to replace her defused anger, and she had to look away. She stared across the gentle river to the massive rock ledge on the other side; a sight she would have enjoyed for its beauty under normal circumstances. "I guess I am trying not to feel so hopeless," she muttered. "If only...if only I still smoked, I'd have a lighter with me."

Dee did not want to dwell on their situation any more than she did, so he moved the large rock beside the pile of dry grass and leaves, turning it up on its side. "Here," he resumed his normal tone. "Help hold this rock in place so I only need one hand to light the fire."

Once she held the rock firmly in place, he used steady downward strikes to get sparks into the pile of grass. Sooner than the other times, he saw wisps of smoke rising from the grass and gently blew on them until a small flame leaped into existence.

"There," he said with satisfaction, pocketing the rock. "We're getting this Boy Scout stuff down. I need to go find more wood while I still have some light. Please add more sticks carefully as the flame grows, smallest ones first."

Aan dutifully grew the fire until she had used all the wood he had found. The heat seemed to irritate her skin, but she knew they would need the warmth before long. Then, struck by a thought, she went back to the water's edge to wash her underclothes so they could dry by the fire. As a bonus, the cold water numbed the scrape on her hand, so it became easier to ignore.

She hesitated with her bra, tempted to sling it into the water and forget about it. But with no support, it would be obvious if she got cold or wet–-a dark part of her mind warned her not to make a bad situation worse. With reluctance, she wrung it dry along with her panties and took them to the heat of the fire.

Not long after, Dee returned with a final load of firewood, and he looked pleased by the size of the fire. "That should serve us well for half the night, at least. What are you doing?" He was looking at her curiously as she held her underwear behind her back.

"Drying my underclothes," she admitted with some embarrassment. "Please look away for a few minutes while I finish." But Dee only settled down on the other side, determined to make light of it.

"You are so smart; wish I had thought of that. The worst thing of that bath was putting on my old clothes. Don't worry about me; I'm not interested in seeing your underwear."

"Then look away," she insisted, and he complied without further protest. Just three days ago her life had been normal, she mused. On a small charter plane from Sydney, she had been headed back to her waiting husband and daughter. One crash, one dead pilot, and here she was with the only other passenger. She fought a losing battle against the depressing idea that she would not see her family again.

Dee seemed to read her mind in the stretched silence. "So, it's your turn to tell about yourself," he said, barely audible about the crackling of the fire.

"I'm too tired and hungry," she sighed.

"Come on," he begged, turning to face her across the fire. "You promised last night you would tell me about yourself. I told you all about myself, and it helped to take our minds from this situation." Aan froze, realizing she still held her damp bra next to the fire in plain view, but he was looking at her face, not her underclothes. Then he added, "if not for you, then think of my throbbing shoulder."

"Okay." She gave in, tucked the bra behind her as casually as she could manage, and spent a moment thinking about what to tell this guy who was a complete stranger just three days ago. "I was born in Burma in 1978. Five years after you were born in America, I think. My father was strict, and farmed for a living. He did not pay much attention to me since I was not a son, and I married as soon as I could because I knew it was the only way to be free."

"Burma? Near Vietnam?"

"Well, Myanmar now, but most of us still call it Burma. Father said the name was changed only as a sign of power, though they claim it was done to show more than just the racial Burmese lived there." Aan shrugged.

"What was it like to grow up in Burma? I knew you looked too different to be Oriental." She was not sure how to take that statement, so she ignored it.

"It was not so long after the war over Vietnam, and fearing a similar battle in our country, the military was key in keeping both Communism and Democracy away. My father had old friends in the military, so I almost never saw any of the oppression others talk about. He forbade me to learn English, though he indulged me with a few education books." She was not about to reveal the details, her real childhood memories as a willful girl, who learned through many humiliating beatings that her father would accept nothing less than submission, of the lack of open support from her mother or the cruel attitude of her brother. "We were very poor by your standards, but we had plenty to eat. I spent most of my time in the fields, exploring them when I was young and then working in them when I was around twelve.

"Modern times were catching up to us, and by my teenage years, I knew English, and even went to a friend's house to play on her computer." She paused a moment to relive the past, warming to her story. "I loved the freedom. My friend's parents were very...how do you say it...hip. I learned much of what I knew about American culture from my friend, who had gone with her parents to visit in the early '90s.

"But my father never changed, so in some ways, what I learned made it even harder at home for me. Most where I lived were farmers, stuck in their way of life, so I went with my friend into Mandalay every chance I had. I met my future husband there." She was lost in memories for a long minute, but Dee remained quiet, studying her.

"He was a college student, filled with ideas of how we would travel and see the world," Aan continued. "But my pregnancy changed all that. I married him against my father's permission and moved into a small apartment in the city."

"That had to be tough on you, to have such a controlling father."

Aan shrugged away the bad feelings. "I have not seen my family since. Zeng Guo became my family, and then my daughter of course. She's almost six." Aan smiled sadly and began to tear up.

"We will get home," Dee said with quiet conviction, "but we must work as a team and do whatever it takes."

Aan nodded and felt the determination blossom anew in her. She was afraid talking about the past would make her despair, but it had the opposite effect. She was more ready than ever to fight for survival.

"So, what were you doing in Sydney?"

"Zeng and I own a small clothing store in Mandalay, small enough to be under the Tatma–-the military's view." Aan gave a snort of bitter amusement. "I insisted on going to see our buyer in Sydney since it was a quick trip, and I had not been away from the city since my girl was born."

The silence threatened to stretch on forever, until Dee broke it with a grin. "The first thing I am going to do when I reach civilization is drink a beer."

Aan laughed in genuine surprise. Dee seemed to know exactly what to say to keep her positive. "I want a big bowl of ice cream," she smiled at him.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, "I wonder how ice cream will go with my beer."

That made her laugh again. It felt amazingly good to think about the things she would do once she was out of this mess. "Let's sleep so we can get an early start."

"You won't hear me argue with that logic," Dee replied as he added a few more fat branches to the fire and settled down beside it.

Aan went a few steps into the night to put her warm underclothes back on before settling on the other side of the campfire.

"You will want to stay over here close to me tonight," Dee reasoned. "The fire will lose its warmth long before we wake and we will need each other if it gets any colder."

Aan hesitated a minute before complying, still not trusting the big American. Daytime companion was one thing, but night seemed to bring out many hidden fears in her, nightmares from her childhood that she thought buried forever. Part of her had been frightened last night when he talked about his short career in the Army. His story had seemed strange to her, with him laughing about school fights and wild helicopter rides, and somehow she felt worse that he was no longer in the military even though he had commented that it was completely normal.

But his military training might make the difference in our survival, she told herself as she tried to sleep. Without being dreadfully tired, she knew the hard ground and her anxieties would make sleep nearly impossible. She listened to Dee's slow breathing and thought of home. She hoped that her husband was sheltering her little daughter from the fear he must be feeling. I'm coming, Zeng, she thought. She drifted off to sleep wondering what the future would hold for them.

---

Aan woke from a fitful sleep to find she was shaking. The sun-ravaged skin on her face and arms felt stretched and gave off more heat than the dying embers. Strangely enough, that only seemed to make her colder. Muscles were cramping in her legs from staying in a fetal position and in her stomach from any meaningful lack of sustenance. Slowly stretching, her joints ached as she turned onto her back and saw Dee from the corner of her eye. He was unmoving, staring at the sky.

For a horrible second, she thought he was dead, until she saw him blink. He slowly looked at her through eyes of pain. "Clouds covered the stars a few hours ago and the breeze got colder." She could tell now that he was shivering too, and he did not state the obvious that he hurt too badly to sleep.

She glanced at the remains of the fire. "Can we restart this?"