Love Long Gone

"After you. Take the middle path."

With Iris leading and Bonnie and Clyde criss-crossing the woods in front of them, the pair made their way. With the exception of eradicating any poison ivy he could find, J.L. had left the island essentially wild, and under the canopy of maples, birches, beeches, pine and hemlock it was as peaceful as it was beautiful.

As the sandy path passed through one clearing, J.L. paused and pointed at a high tree. "There's one of the cameras," he said.

It took Iris a few seconds to perceive the small box and solar panel mounted high up on one tree. "Oh," she said. "It's almost invisible."

"I put it there because the deer like to feed here. As far as I can tell, there are about 23 of them on the island."

"That's pretty exact. Did you see them all at once?"

He touched her shoulder, indicated a turn on the path.

"No. They're all distinctive, once you get to know them. Each one looks a bit different in size, color and pattern and they move on a fairly regular track each day.

"Actually," he said, estimating the height of the sun in the sky, "if you can be really quiet and not talk, there's a group which should be visible in a couple of minutes."

Iris turned to look at him and he took the opportunity to motion her to sit down beside him behind some low bushes. He pointed at his bare wrist as if to indicate a watch and held up his other hand with splayed fingers twice: 10 minutes.  He held his finger to his lips to stress the need for silence.

He took Clyde's collar in one hand and put Iris' hand on Bonnie's. The dogs were well-trained, well-behaved, but they were still dogs.

Iris settled down on the soft vegetation and tried to relax. The sun warmed the little meadow, groups of mayflies glittered in the bright light. After some time, she turned her head to look at J.L. He seemed to be so still as to have become part of the tree he was leaning against.

Sensing her movement, his head slowly turned towards her. Equally slowly, he lifted one hand, again raised a finger for silence. He turned his head just slightly towards the open area and a smile crossed his face. The finger on his lips, very slowly, turned and pointed.

Iris shifted her gaze past him and gasped softly. Where there had been only empty grass a few seconds ago, there were now, just 50 feet away, four white-tail deer -- a large doe, a smaller doe and two spotted fawns.

"Oh!" she breathed in wonder.

The older doe's head turned towards her. Without hesitation, the four bounded for the treeline, white tails waving behind them.

Both dogs started to rise, lay back down when caught by the firm grips on their collars.

"Oh! J.L. -- I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare them off. They just surprised me!"

"I think we surprised each other, Iris. Not a problem."

"I've... I've never seen one so close. They're beautiful!"

"They are that, aren't they?"

Iris was quiet for a moment, sitting still and looking at the empty space where the deer has been.

"But..."

J.L. smiled. "But how can we eat something so lovely?"

"Yes. I guess."

"Iris," he said gently. "This island can support about two dozen deer. Think it through. Each spring, each doe will have a fawn. Some will have two, some will have none, but one is a fair average, a good working figure. With me so far?"

"Yes."

"So, each summer, after the fawns are born, there will be 36 of them here. And next year over 50, the year after that, well over 75. What happens then?"

Iris was silent.

"You know what would happen, Iris. They'd eat every plant within reach. They'd eat the bark off trees, try to dig up roots. In the end, most of them would starve to death. Incidentally, after that, the island would take years to recover to the point where it could support more than a handful of deer. For them, it would be a disaster."

"But couldn't they just leave?"

"And go where? Sending a bunch of excess deer from here to somewhere else would only shift the problem. And it wouldn't actually solve the problem either, just delay it.

"In the real world, Iris, whether or not J.L. Townes goes hunting here, by next spring the island will be down to about two dozen deer, half of them pregnant. It may be 20 or 27, but it always hovers around two dozen.

"But remember, Iris, 12 fawns are born every spring, meaning that the island has surplus of them -- a dozen deer above the carrying capacity, the ability of the island to support them."

He turned to the girl. His expression was firm but not unkind. "What happens to that surplus, Iris?"

The young woman just looked at him, so he continued.

"Some will die of disease, some will break a leg and die slowly, a couple may drown, some will freeze to death, some will be chased down and eaten by predators. But the excess will die, one way or another. Mother Nature almost always wins, Iris -- and she's not a nice lady."

"Predators? Here?"

"Oh, yes. Coyotes, a lynx maybe. Had a cougar a couple of years ago. I wouldn't have minded except she and the dogs didn't get along."

Iris, silent, stared at the ground near her feet.

"Oh, some will leave, Iris, but others drift in from elsewhere. It balances out. But the good news is that there will be another generation of fawns born next year. And the year after that."

"So, you're saying that hunting doesn't make any difference?"

"Not if it's properly managed. It's all part of that 'circle of life' thing, Iris. I never take more than I can eat, never more than can be replaced within the year. Mother Nature has been doing it this way since Creation. I'm just another agent for her. And someday I will be buried and feed the flowers and trees. It all works out, the way I look at it."

Iris turned to face him. "You have a very calm way of looking at something so harsh, J.L."

"Ms Mackenzie," he replied, looking her in the eyes, "I like to think I'm closer to Mother Gaia than a lot of people carrying protest banners or writing strident letters about things they really don't understand. Life goes on here with minimal impact. Were I to live another hundred years as I live today, I would hope that there'd be almost no change to the island. Oh, and there'd still be two dozen deer here."

"Now," he said, rising to his feet and holding out a hand for her, "let's see if we can find you some more clothes."

Their expedition, while a pleasant outing, located nothing more of the girl's garments. Taking his cue from her, J.L. himself said little.

"The water should be down by late afternoon," J.L. said as they approached the house. "I can order a taxi on the net."

Iris nodded. "Thank you," she said softly. But for the rest of the morning, she was silent.

J.L. let her be, spent his time re-establishing his normal routine. Eventually, his stomach growled. J.L. didn't wear a watch, but tolerated the clock on his computer.

"Iris," he called as he headed for the kitchen. "Would you like some lunch?"

When the young woman didn't reply, he went looking for her, found her curled up outside with a book. She looked up as he approached.

"Some lunch?" he repeated.

The girl shook her head, sadly. "J.L.," she said, "I'm sorry to have been a bother."

"No bother, Iris," he said. He looked at her for a moment, sat down on the grass beside her. "What's upsetting you?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she said. "Just confused, I guess. But you've been very hospitable and I do appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he said with a small smile. "Just do me a favor and keep your mouth shut about how I live here. I really don't want a whole bunch of..."

"I promise," she said, cutting him off. "What time is the taxi coming?"

"It'll be at the other side at five. We should leave here at 4:30."

The girl blushed. "Um, J.L., could I push my luck and return these clothes later?"

J.L. grinned. His laugh boomed out across the island. "We could hardly send you home without them, could we?"

"I promise to get them back tomorrow or the next day."

"No hurry. Actually, don't bother. They're a bit small for me anyway."

+

J.L. watched the outgoing boats from the widow's walk. The promise of fair weather on a Saturday morning was too much for any sailor to miss, he thought. He sipped his coffee, watched it steam in the morning air.

His thoughts drifted back to the day spent with Iris. He'd grown accustomed to his own company; her presence, while not entirely unwelcome, had changed things. Even the dogs sensed his altered mood; Bonnie had begun following him everywhere. Normally she would never come upstairs, but now she lay at his feet, the tip of her tail beating slowly against the floor as she watched him.

"There's a good girl," he said softly. He reached down and scratched her fur. The tail-beat sped up.

J.L. had spent a long time thinking about Iris. Though he knew that keeping a recording of the beach scene would have been wrong under the circumstances, he still regretted deleting it.

Bonnie's tail suddenly stopped beating. Her head came up off the floor, looked inland towards the island. She rose, walked to the railing and gave a low 'woof!'

J.L. leaned deeper into his chair. Bonnie hadn't growled the way she would for an intruder, two or four-legged. It was probably just her announcement of Clyde's return from some top-secret canine expedition.

Sure enough, the sound of the big dog's paws could be heard on the stairs below. Clyde soon emerged and came over to J.L, wagging his tail. The man stretched out his hand in greeting, them jumped as Iris' voice spoke from behind him.

"Good morning, J.L."

The lean man spun out of his chair in surprise.

Iris giggled, her hands over her mouth.

It was a warm morning and, in the casual custom of one living alone, J.L. hadn't bothered getting dressed. He covered his groin with his hands.

"I'm sorry," she said, pointedly turning away to stare out over the harbour, "but you don't have a phone and I didn't get your email address or I would have asked. I just wanted, well, first, to return these." Without turning towards him, she held out a shopping bag.

Inside were the clothes J.L. had loaned her last week. Not particularly embarrassed himself but not wanting to embarrass his visitor, J.L. pulled out the old Army shorts and stepped into them.

"Thanks," he said, "but I did say you could keep them."

Iris turned to face him again.

"Well, you did say that, but I wasn't happy about it. And..."

The girl looked embarrassed in any case.

"And?" he repeated.

"J.L., I wanted to apologize again. I came here, onto your private property. And then I got all judgemental on you and we didn't exactly part on good terms. I'm sorry for that.

"And I wanted to say thank you again, face to face. You saved me from what would have at best been a very unpleasant night and you treated me very generously. So..."

J.L. raised a palm, cut her off.

"It's OK, Iris. You're welcome. Anybody would have done it."

"I don't think so, J.L. Not to that degree."

On impulse, she leaned down, kissed him on the cheek before sitting down in another chair.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Have you had breakfast?" She held up a second bag. "I brought you a loaf of banana bread, Mom's special recipe." She reached inside the bag with one slim hand. "It's still warm."

J.L. was torn. His privacy was in many ways his greatest treasure and in one sense he objected to anybody, however nice, intruding into his private little world. On the other hand, Iris had obviously gone to a lot of trouble on his behalf. She must have been up very early to have baked and got all the way here from the university by now.

And, he had to admit it, deep down inside, her presence made him realize that he had been lonely, more lonely than he wished to admit.

And, yes, she was definitely easy on the eyes.

He smiled. "Sounds good, Iris. I accept."

He led the way down to the kitchen. "The coffee's fairly fresh. Would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please."

"Unless you brought something else, Iris, how about some applesauce to go with the bread? I just put up a big batch this week."

The girl's eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "He cans, too? Perfect."

The two made minor talk over the meal. J.L. found himself looking at Iris across the table when he thought she wouldn't notice. To his disappointment, she was wearing a bra. She had a sprinkling of freckles on her cheekbones, something he hadn't noticed. And he could smell her, a flowery scent -- shampoo, perhaps?

The man found himself relaxing. The deep-down ache which had weighed down his heart for five years seemed to be just a little lighter.

She looked up suddenly, caught him looking at her. "What?"

At least she didn't catch me staring at her chest!  he thought to himself.

"Nothing, Iris. Just thinking. How long are you here for this time?"

Stay here forever?  The thought popped up in his mind from nowhere, amazing him. He quickly pushed it aside.

"I've nothing planned for the day, J.L. Can I help you in the garden? Is there more canning to do? Can we go back and see the deer again?"

Her smile was light, young, completely innocent of the emptiness so weighing on his soul.

"No canning right now, Iris, but I could do with some help picking raspberries, if you wouldn't mind. I can loan you a long-sleeved shirt or something. And, yes, we can go and see the deer."

The woman beamed. Again she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, J.L."

He wondered at how nice her lips had felt on his cheek.

.

The morning passed easily. The girl's easy chatter gave him no chance to brood. The day became quite warm and, despite the thorns on the raspberry canes, Iris elected to wear a pair of very short cut-offs. J.L's eyes kept flicking to her long, tanned legs.

"I think that's about it for now," he said. "Pretty much two gallons of berries. I appreciate your help."

"You're welcome! Can we go see the deer now?"

J.L. looked up at the sun, made a judgement.

"Sorry, I forgot about that. It's too late to see them in the same spot, but, sure, let's find another place."

Carrying the bowls of berries into his kitchen, he covered them with a cloth to keep out fruit flies.

"Would you like something to eat before we go, Iris?"

"Just a drink of water, I think, J.L. It was hot out there." Without formality, she turned on the tap, bent over to take a sip.

J.L. watched her; his eyes caught a glimpse of her bra -- today, a blue one. This time, he didn't turn away. The tops of her breasts had a rash of freckles, too. He turned his head away hurriedly as she straightened up.

Again, he let Iris go first as they headed into the woods. It wasn't entirely being mannerly; her bottom in the worn cut-offs was entrancing. His eyes followed its movements, its side-to-side sway as she walked.

It was however obvious that Iris had not spent a lot of time in the wild, at least not a lot of time in search of easily-spooked wildlife. Her cheerful voice was pleasant, cheery, but they were after all looking for easily-startled animals.

Eventually, he stepped forward, put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped, turned to see him with a finger over his lips. Her eyes opened and she nodded silently.

J.L. took the lead. After another few minutes, he stopped by the side of the trail. He put his arm around the girl's waist, pulled her in so that her ear rested beside his lips.

His arm feels good,  Iris thought.

"Here's where we have to get really careful," he whispered. "There's an old apple tree around that bend and, if we are very, very quiet, we might be able to see something."

Eyes wide, she nodded again.

"We're going to move very slowly. Watch where you put your foot down. Don't step on any sticks."

Again the girl nodded.

J.L. stepped off again. Iris thought his movements were indeed very slow; it seemed to take a minute for each step, with a large pause between each pace. The man, she realized, was putting a foot down, toes first, then slowly shifting his weight and pausing before beginning to move his other foot. Watching, she realized how very silent he was and tried to emulate him.

Where did he learn that? she wondered.

It seemed like forever, but as they neared the bend, J.L. began to crouch as he moved. Periodically, he turned to see if Iris was still there. She tried to smile, although in truth she felt rather silly.

Then J.L. sank silently to his knees. Slowly, he turned his body to the girl some paces behind him. Again he held his finger to his lips. Then the finger pointed around the bend, towards something Iris could not see. His finger pointed again in emphasis, then he cupped his hand and gestured her to move forward.

Her heart beating, Iris eased forward to beside him. There was indeed a crabbed old fruit tree ahead, but she saw nothing else. She was about to look towards the man with a questioning look when a handsome head, complete with an impressive rack of antlers, raised itself from the ground and Iris suddenly realized she was looking at a large whitetail buck.

The animal seemed completely oblivious to their presence. They were close enough that Iris could see the individual white hairs in its ears and the rough pattern on the surface of its antlers. Its jaws moved as she watched.

It was, especially for a city girl, an amazing sight. The buck looked around unconcernedly before it dropped its head again to feed.

She turned to see J.L. smiling broadly at her. Her smile in response was amazing, he thought, truly entrancing.

Suddenly the buck's head came up, staring past them. Iris heard soft but heavy footsteps behind her, then J.L.'s hand snapped out to catch Clyde by the collar. The buck, white tail flying behind it, bounded off into the brush.

As the two stood up, Iris turned to J.L. and locked him into a fierce hug.

"Oh, thank you, J.L." she said, that was just amazing!"

Without thinking about it, her arms came up around his neck, pulled his head down to hers, brought their lips together in a solid kiss.

Surprised, but not at all objecting, J.L. kissed back. To his delight, Iris' lips opened beneath his and her tongue swept over his own. He followed and their two tongues teased and explored. J.L. felt her hands moving over his back and shoulder. Uncertain both of Iris' reaction and his own feelings, he allowed his own free hand to move, holding the young woman by the waist. To his delight, he felt the girl pull him in against her in a strong embrace.

The moment ended when Clyde shifted. The dog, while well-behaved, still had his lapses and the sight of a fleeing deer was definitely one of them. And not even the combined weights of two adults can ignore being pulled by a 100-pound Alsatian.

Iris broke away from the kiss, her eyes wide and her face flushed.

"Wow!" she said, taking in a great gasp of air. She gave an amused smile. "Thank you again, sir. There's another skill you hadn't told me about."

The man smiled back, squeezed her waist. It felt firm and warm, but it had been so long and he was uncertain where to go with this.

Iris wiggled out from under his arm, knelt beside the big dog, his collar still being held firmly by J.L. "But you were a very bad doggie," she said, waving her finger in front of Clyde.

The dog licked her nose and she broke into gales of laughter.

The two walked back to the house holding hands. J.L. realized that he hadn't felt this good in a very long time.

When they got back to the house, Iris stopped, took both his hands in hers, looked up at him. In truth, they were much the same height.

"J.L., I have to go. I really enjoyed this, but I'd only planned to come over long enough to drop off your clothes and the bread. I have a major project due Monday and if I miss the tide, I'm in a lot of trouble."