Tree planting

"'dja have an African Queen moment in the blue lagoon, Jenny?" Marley asked. He was lying with his head on an old log, staring at the fire.

"A what?"

"A leech. Like in The African Queen, with Bogie and Bacall."

"Hepburn," said Dan.

"Yeah, Hepburn, whatever."

"No, just one leech. Amani got it off me. I was fine."

"Most challenging operation I've ever performed," Amani said. "She only fainted three times."

Eventually, Marley went to his tent, and came back with a tiny, oddly-shaped guitar in one hand, and a Zip-loc bag in the other. "Time for a little relaxation," he said. He put the guitar down and opened the bag.

"Did you bring anything besides the guitar and the grass, Marley?"

"You forgot the rolling papers, man."

The five passed a joint around the fire, and Marley began to play. "This is called a Backpacker guitar," he explained to Jenny. "Made by Martin – the same guys who make the best guitars in the world. Great for coming here, except Siobhan can't sing."

"Screw you, Marley." Siobhan put on an exaggerated accent. "All's us Newfies loves ta sing, b'y Jayzus!"

"I didn't say you didn't like it, Red – I meant you were nogood." She threw a sweatshirt at him.

Darkness fell, and the singing continued. Jenny didn't know what time it was, but she could feel herself getting sleepy. She yawned, stretched, and looked up to see a sky filled with stars, more stars than she had ever imagined could carpet the sky. She knew that it was at least partially the pot, but she felt so at peace and part of the world. The moon was waning, so its wedge was even thinner than the previous night. "My God," she murmured.

"Amazing, isn't it?" said Amani. "Everybody who comes here sees the stars and does what you're doing."

Jenny looked around the fire and saw that everyone else was looking up, too. She smiled. "I guess I'm not as stoned as I thought."

"I dunno," said Marley. "That's some fine Bubbelicious we smoked."

"Some what?" Dan said.

"Bubbelicious, man. That's the variety."

"Very ... chewy." Laughter rippled around the fire.

"I'm gonna go to bed," said Jenny. She gave a round of good nights. "Thanks for making my first day fun, guys."

"It's not all like this," said Dan. "Be ready to work tomorrow."

Jenny wasn't sure what was more amazing – how quickly she had fallen asleep, or how it seemed like no time at all had passed between lying down in her tent and hearing someone clanging a spoon against a frying pan and yelling.

"Grub's on! Time to get up!"

She pulled herself out of the sleeping bag, stretched, grabbed a fleece pullover to cut the chill in the air, and unzipped her tent flap.

Marley was the cook for the day, and she could smell bacon. Her stomach rumbled.Must be the Bubbelicious, she thought, and smiled.

Breakfast was quick, and the crew piled into the back of a dilapidated Dodge Ram truck with giant tires and a box full of equipment.

"Where's Dan?" Jenny asked Amani as the truck bounced and jounced over the terrain.

"Dan's always gotta be up before us. He takes off on an ATV, makes sure our blocks are ready to plant, gets our seedlings to us. He's the supply guy."

"Wow. Sounds like a lot of work."

"He doesn't work hard as us," said Siobhan, "but if he doesn't do his job for us, then we all suffer when pay time comes."

Marley chimed in. "Yeah, man, without the boss, you can't do shit in this job. And Dan's a good boss. You're gonna be the handicap today, JD."

"Aw, leave her alone," said Amani. "We were all virgins once."

About an hour later, they got to their planting area. Dan was there, with what looked like a thousand bags full of seedlings. The crew geared up, with their spades, their planting belts.

"Yo, JD – what's with the gloves?"

"I thought they'd protect my hands," Jenny said.

Marley said "C'mere, I'll give you a tip." He produced a roll of duct tape from the truck. "Let's wrap up your fingers. You'll do better, and it's the best protection. I swear by it."

The day was both fast and slow. Jenny tried to count, and lost count of the seedlings she planted, a dozen times in the morning alone. Marley worked next to her, watching her technique, stopping her when her spacing went off, and making sure she was on the right line.

"Marley, I'm slowing you down," she said.

"Listen, girl, if I keep an eye on you, this work won't have to get redone. I'd rather catch the errors now and get more money in the end than have you off on your own and end up helping you replant 2000 trees, 'know?"

By lunch, they'd planted several thousand trees. The heat was intense. Water seemed to go down Jenny's throat and out her pores at equal rates. After a few attempts to keep up her end of conversations with Marley, she quieted down and just focused on planting. Under the duct tape, her fingers were still feeling raw and sore. Her back ached.

As she sat with the group and ate, she barely paid attention to the chatter and boasting about who'd got more planted. As people got up to get back to work, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"How's it going?" Amani asked.

"This is ... hard. I thought I was in better shape than this."

"You are. It's just that this is different from anything you've ever done. Don't worry. It's manageable. Watch out for sunstroke, though."

By the end of the day Jenny was utterly exhausted. She had lost track of how many trees she had planted. As they waited for the truck to arrive to get them back to camp, the others compared notes with her and each other. She discovered she'd planted about 500 trees. For 10 hours of draining, backbreaking labour, she was getting about 40 bucks.

"Oh my God," she said. "I'm going to kill myself for less money than I'd make at McDonald's!"

Don't worry," Siobhan said. "Everybody starts slow. By the end of the week you'll be at 1000, I'll bet."

She was right, but it was the hardest week of Jenny's life. The days ran together into a cycle of waking up before the sun, eating, silently being driven to the new block, taping up, and planting. Sometimes she'd hear lunch called and think "I just started, how can it be lunch?"

Her numbers slowly increased. So did the bugs. By Thursday, she told the other members of the crew she thought she'd used enough spray to endanger her unborn children. They laughed. Marley said, "Hey, think about how many you've eaten, if you wanna think about something." That was not helpful.

She was sore all the time. Amani, however, came through with some heavy-duty pain pills that let her sleep. "Don't overdo it, though, Jen. I'm dosing you with these one at a time, 'k?"

By the end of the first week, she did hit 1000 trees. By the end of the second, she was doing between 1800 and 2200. Even Dan was impressed. "You're getting the hang of this, Jenny."

They worked for 17 days straight planting. "How much area have we covered, Dan?" Jenny asked one day. "About five per cent of this cut."

The terrain amazed her. Freshly cut, the woods were almost flat, except for the unwanted trees that were left behind by the crews. The expanses of cutting were larger than she could have imagined. And she saw vibrant areas where other crews had replanted. "That's 2000," said Marley. "That's '96, my brother planted there."

After 17 days, it was time to move camp, and time for a break. The crew broke down their tents and gear and stowed them in the transport vehicles. As they jounced down the road, the mood began to lift.

"Beer!" Marley shouted out. "BEEEER!"

"Showers!" Amani responded. "HOT WATER!"

Siobhan joined in. "KFC!" Her Newfoundland accent came closer to the front as she got irritated with the laughter around her. "Whass d'matter w'dat? I like KFC." The crew rolled around the truckbed.

There were showers, but no beer or KFC at the cabin. Time was marked with military precision. "Come ON, Jenny! There's only so much water in the tank!"

Eventually, showered, shampooed, and feeling oddly and unbelievably clean, the crew headed into town to party it up before the next stint.

Lac Rouge was a logging town, and despite its name, you'd go a long way before you heard a French accent. A main street filled with four-by-four pickups and Jeeps, a grocery store, a supply store, and two bars. As the crew jumped down from their truck, their spirits were high. "Let's go!" said Amani, and headed straight for the Fleur-de-Lis. Inside, it was dark, and a few old-timers leaned into the bar nursing beer.

The girls grabbed a table next to the jukebox, and the guys headed to the bar to check out the TV over the bar and catch up on sports scores. A paunchy bartender came over, a scowl on his face.

"Hi, Skip!" He grunted. "Can you run us a tab?"

"Whaddayawant." He looked Amani up and down.

"Six pints for a start. Thanks!"

He muttered something as he walked away.

"He hates us planters," said Siobhan, "the old prick. I think he doesn't like anyone young."

"It's not that," said Amani.

"What is it, then?" Jenny asked.

"It's that we're HOT." The girls broke up.

The evening went predictably. The boys tried to drink their weight in beer, and the girls worked on keeping the jukebox in action.

"Omigod. Pink! I love Pink!" Amani jumped up and grabbed Jenny's hand. "Come on. Dance with me."

Jenny got up as the first verse of "Get this party started" began.

Amani was a great dancer. Her eyes closed, brown skin under the white tank top, she was immersed in the music. Jenny could hear her tablemates hooting at her and started to feel the groove of the music move her.

Halfway through the song, Jenny began to note there were more hoots, and not coming from their table.Well, she thought,we are HOTTT!and kept dancing. Amani grabbed her hands, and they began to dance more closely together, when suddenly, the music died.

Boos erupted around the bar. Jenny looked over to see the bartender Amani had called Skip standing by the jukebox with the cord in his hand.

"This ain't no strip bar. You wanna do a lezzie show, go down to Kapuskasing."

"What's your problem?" Amani asked.

"You know what my problem is, sweetheart? Snotty little college brats like you who come in here and think they own the town 'cause they got money in their pockets. Why don't you go the fuck back to Pakistan or wherever you came from?"

"WHAT did you say?"

Skip's eyes glinted as he realized he'd struck a nerve. "I told you to go home, you little Paki cunt. All of you –" he gestured to the planters, who were now all standing – "fuck off back to –" his words were cut off by Amani's slap.

The sound of it rang through the bar, and seemed to echo in Jenny's ear. A red mark began to rise on his left cheek, and there was a moment of stillness. Skip's hand stole up to his face, as if it needed independent confirmation that this girl had slapped him. Two guys got up off their bar stools.

"You're fucked, Paki. You're fucked now."

"Fuck you, Skip."

He stepped toward her, and Dan and Marley stepped between them.

"All right, guys. We're leaving. Back off, Skip. We're going," Dan said. He turned to look at the three women. "Come on. Grab your stuff."

One of the guys at the bar said, "Yeah, take off, paki."

"Shut the fuck up," Marley responded.

They left the bar with their eyes darting around them. They felt like soldiers trying to beat a strategic retreat. Outside, Skip opened the door.

"You owe me $78," he said.

"Bullshit," said Dan. "We had 10 beer at the most. That's what – fifty-five bucks?"

"No way."

"Guys – 11 bucks each." They dug in their pockets and silently gave the money to Dan. Amani was silent and made eye contact with no one, but when she gave her money to Dan, he wouldn't take it. "Oh, no. Yours is free."

He handed forty-five to Skip. "You know what, Skip? My girl Amani gets hers free, since she was served so badly. There's your money."

"You're fucking joking."

"Perhaps you better call the police, then. I'm not giving you another penny."

Marley chimed in. "Yeah, call the cops. Maybe they'd like to hear what you call customers. And what goes on in that back room on Tuesday nights."

Skip's eyes moved from one to the next. "Get the fuck outta here."

"Bye, Skip," said Dan. "And don't think that we won't be telling every other planter about what you said to one of my people tonight. None of us are coming back here, trust me."

Skip grunted, turned, and went back in.

As the five of them walked back to the truck, Jenny put her arm around Amani. She shrugged it off.

"Just leave me alone," she said. "Just don't."

"What do you guys want to do?"

"I'm done," said Amani. "I don't wanna party."

"Okay," said Dan. "Can you take the ATV back up to the cabin?"

"Yeah."

"Can someone go with her?" He looked around.

"I'll go," said Jenny.

"No, it's OK," Amani said. "I'm fine on my own."

A chorus of "no" was the only response. They got the ATV out of the truck bed, and the two girls helmeted up.

"I'll drive," said Jenny.

"You know what you're doing?" said Dan.

"I'm fine."

They climbed on and took off. The ATV headlights showed them the flickering ghosts of Lac Rouge, and then the woods. Amani held on behind and occasionally shouted out directions as they went through the dirt tracks back to the cabin.

When they got there and climbed off the four-wheeler, the silence seemed complete, and the echo of the engine seemed to roar in their ears.

"I don't wanna sleep inside," Amani said. "Can we pitch a tent and stay outside? I mean, would you stay with me?"

They grabbed some gear.

"I know where we can pitch it," said Amani.

They walked a short distance away from the cabin. The tent went up quickly, and within a few minutes, they were inside in sleeping bags, their lantern extinguished.

"Jenny?" Amani said.

"Yeah?"

"I have a surprise for you."

"What?"

A lighter flicked in the darkness. "Bubbelicious." They giggled. "I borrowed a joint from Marley's stash."

They passed it back and forth between them. Jenny could feel the tension of the night slipping away, felt her upset recede. But she felt alert, as if something were about to happen.Spidey senses tingling, she thought, and giggled.

They smoked the joint, and lay in silence for a while. Jenny would look over periodically, but Amani's eyes were open – she could see that much. Neither was sleepy.

"What an asshole," said Jenny.

"Yeah," Amani said shortly. "It's great to be born in Canada, brought up here, and still be a Paki cunt."

"He's a jerk, Amani."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less." She wiped her eyes. "God, I don't know what word I hate more."

Jenny moved out of her sleeping bag. "Don't think about it." She knee-walked over to Amani and stroked her face.

"Jenny?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you lie down with me?" Amani opened her bag. Jenny lay down beside her. "I just want to feel someone close to me." Her arms encircled Jenny. Jenny stroked her face again, and felt warm tears on her cheek.

"It's okay, Amani." She kissed her on the cheek, tasting the salt of her tears on her skin. It was then that things changed.

Afterwards, neither of them knew what had really marked the beginning. Was it the kiss on the cheek, the opening of the sleeping bag, the decision to pitch the tent?

Amani turned her head. Her lips met Jenny's, and the two kissed for the first time, mouth to mouth. And suddenly they were kissing. Jenny felt both overwhelmed by sensations and aware of every nerve ending in her face. Her lips were touching another woman's. She was kissing Amani the way she'd kissed boyfriends, and her body was responding with arousal. She was confused, excited, and fighting between being carried away by pure sensation and trying to analyze what was happening.

As all of this went on in Jenny's head, she continued to kiss Amani, and Amani was responding in kind, or perhaps Amani was kissing her and she responding. Amani's tongue slipped out of her mouth to touch Jenny's lips. Jenny's mouth opened, and their tongues met. Tingles of pleasure found their way to Jenny's brain.

After seconds, or minutes, the kiss broke. Jenny opened her eyes to find Amani's eyes looking at her. She thought she could read similar feelings in Amani's face to her own.

"Amani, I don't know wha—"

"I know. I don't know either."

"I've never done---"

"Shut up." Amani's lips curved into a smile, before they moved back in to find Jenny's. "I just want to feel good. Do you feel good?"

Jenny thought for a moment, but her body was telling her the answer to the question. She did feel good. She felt right with Amani. She kissed her back, hard.

Their kisses became steadily more passionate. Amani put her hands on either side of Jenny's face, kissed her on the lips, the cheeks, the ears, the neck, as if she were trying to taste every inch of her skin.

Jenny again felt overwhelmed by sensation. Her hands moved down Amani's back and stole up inside her shirt. Her smooth, warm skin felt soft and gentle under her hands, roughened from planting. She pushed the shirt upward.

"Let's – "

She only had time to say the one word before Amani sat halfway up and pulled off the shirt. Jenny did the same. She felt as if she were stepping off a cliff, into the air, falling, not knowing what lay beneath, but unable to stop herself or change her mind, and almost serene, her serenity combined with arousal, her arousal combined with nervousness.

Then Amani's hands were on her breasts, and Amani's lips were on her neck. Her nervousness faded into the background as roughened thumbs touched her nipples. Her breasts sent signals of pleasure to her brain, and she closed her eyes. None of the boys she'd been with had ever created feelings like this in her, aroused her in this way. She was amazed at how horny she was, how hot she could be. Her pussy felt hot, wet, like she was filled with liquid gold.

Her hands stole towards Amani's small breasts. The nipples were already hard, and as she touched them Amani groaned in her throat, exhaled. Jenny gently pushed her down onto her back. She lowered her mouth to kiss Amani's left breast, licking and sucking. Her nipples were amazingly hard – harder than Jenny's ever seemed to have been.

"oh, fuck, yes," Amani said from somewhere above her. She moved to her right breast. More murmuring, from what seemed like a million miles away. Jenny was consumed with the taste and the feel of Amani's breasts, the slight salt tang, the nothingness, the hard nipple covered in soft skin, the opposites together of it.

She could feel Amani moving beneath her, and reached her arms up to hold her arms down. Her breasts brushed against Amani's, and the sensation of their nipples touching made her quiver. She sighed and rolled against her as Amani responded. They kissed again, this time more deeply than before, if that was possible.

Their breasts, now pushed into each other, their ribs, their bellies, all touching, their lips on each other's, their hands entwined – all combined to make Jenny feel an orgasm approach. She surrendered to the sensation, felt her consciousness split between her head and her pussy, and let the kisses and the feel of Amani's nipples brushing her breasts carry her over the top.

Suddenly she found herself on her back. Amani had flipped her, and as she did, her hand stole down to touch Jenny's cunt through her underwear. Her body overloaded and she came, crying out softly, thinking there might be other people from the camp within earshot. Amani's fingers on her made her even wetter, hotter. Suddenly she felt the soaked crotch of her panties pushed aside and a finger gently inside her.