The sun rose slowly over the mountaintop into the orange-purple sky until it showed its full face of fire. Its warm rays touched the trees, causing a steady rise of steam from the dew-drenched leaves. Mist dripped from the tips of the larger leaves, issuing a rhythm as each droplet fell onto the forest floor. A glance away, the morning flowers alive in the meadow stretched and opened to greet the new day, bringing all the colors of a rainbow to the field. Their burst of color signaled the bees and butterflies to begin their daily dance of pollen transfer. The butterflies sniffed the petals of the morning flowers. When they opened a little more, their busy friends were invited to enter and sip the ambrosia. The field pulsated with activity.

Between the edge of the meadow and the forest floor slept Josh and Marley. The sun's rays shot directly into their eyes, disturbing their sleep as they lay tightly enveloped in their sleeping bags. With the nudge of the sun, Josh muttered an indistinguishable profanity and rolled away from the bright light, while Marley swung her arm over her eyes in a gesture of declination to the sun's invitation to awaken. Marley had been having beautiful dream about a prayer flag flapping on a majestic mountaintop and didn't want to leave the feeling of pure contentment and peace.

It had been a rough night for these two unseasoned campers who, as adults, had camped infrequently. No matter what position they arranged their bodies or where on the ground they moved, a rock or a stick would seemingly rise from deep below the surface to poke them. Since their arrival at the campsite was late at night, it had been difficult to see all the hidden obstacles, and besides they were both too tired to do more than a cursory removal of rocks and branches.

By the early hours of the morning, Marley had found that if she lay snake-style, curled in an S shape between the rocks, her large bones would fall between the rocks and she could sleep. So when the sun beckoned, neither Josh nor Marley were ready to greet the morning with any enthusiasm.

Ignoring the sun's heat, they both snuck in another hour of sleep. When Josh was roused the second time, he felt like he had been sleeping in an oven; sweat covered his body. He was thirsty and had a strong urge to pee. He looked around to scope out a place for relief from the sun and decided to head toward the forest, where he sat in the shade of the closest oak tree. His black hair pointed helter-skelter. His coal-black eyes peeped through squinting, puffy eyelids. He stretched his arms over his head, yawned deeply, and tried to convince his body it had had enough rest. The trip yesterday had worn them both out. They had a late start from their homes in San Francisco and had hit stop-and-go traffic even though they had taken the back way up through the North Bay, stopped for breakfast in San Rafael, lunched in Redding, and started their five-mile hike toward Mount Shasta at three. They found an opening in the dense forest around eight and fell into their sleeping bags exhausted. They thought their exercises at the gym would have prepared them for hiking — but hiking was different from the treadmill.

Since they had arrived at their campsite in the dark, this was the first-time Josh had a chance to survey the beauty that surrounded them. Sitting on a log, he saw the busy meadow backdropped by the mountains, and it reminded him of past camping trips both with his parents and with his Boy Scout troop. His father worked hard in a laundry for an hourly wage, and so the family could only afford camping vacations, but that was always fine with Josh. He loved the freedom camping seemed to offer. He hadn't been camping since he was a teen, and a nature adventure had been calling his name. Both he and Marley decided they wanted to include more of nature into their busy lives. He whispered to himself, "This ain't bad."

Josh was still hazy when he swung his legs off the log and headed a little way from camp for a "no-hands" morning pee, an experience few males ever get to enjoy since usually aim is required. Both hands were free, and he was able to use them to swat at the buzzing insects being drawn to his sweaty body. After he relieved himself and wiped stray urine off his foot with a leaf, he swaggered back to camp with an air of machismo. His father had taught him the no-hands pee on the first camping trip he could remember, like it was a rite of passage, somehow. He thought, It's funny, but that's all I can really remember about that trip.I guess having that man-to-man time with Dad was important, now that I look back on it. It's strange the things we remember from our childhoods. He took a big breath of mountain air and looked up at the sky as a hawk soared overhead. Yeah, he thought, this is great. I like this place.

Upon returning to camp, he saw that Marley was still wrapped in her sleeping bag, like half of a spooned couple. He wondered what she was like as a little girl; probably she slept in a Cinderella sleeping bag. He smiled at the thought. As his gaze lifted, he was stunned to see that everything in the camp had been ransacked. Their things were strewn hither and yon, and with a quick glance he noticed most of the items were missing. Running toward his pack, his tall lanky body fell forward when both feet became entangled in his sleeping bag.

Normally he would laugh at his clumsiness, but for now he was worried. He stood up the best he could while trying to kick the bag off his feet, hopped over to his pack, looked inside, and found it empty. What was Marley up to? Was she playing a joke? he thought, more than a tad annoyed at her and not thinking this was very funny.

On closer inspection, he saw that Marley was still asleep, just the tips of her blonde hair visible at the edge of her sleeping bag. He remembered the food he had tied up in a tree. He saw it was also gone, along with the pans that should have rattled a warning. There remained two canteens of water.

Josh yelled, "Damn it!" as he slammed his empty pack to the ground.

Marley was awakened by Josh's yelling and running from spot to spot, back and forth and around in circles. He looked like a crazy man. Since Marley wasn't privy to the seriousness of the situation, she laughed hysterically at his antics.

"Be careful," she said. "My shingle isn't out this weekend."

"Don't laugh!" Josh blurted. "I don't think your little joke is very funny." He pouted as he sat down on a fallen tree.

Marley, taken aback by his attitude, asked, "What're you talking about?" She sat up.

"Are you telling me you're not playing with me? You didn't destroy our camp and hide all of our food? Oh, God, please tell me this is a not-so-funny joke."

"What? I didn't do anything. I've been asleep." Marley became quiet as she looked at the empty campsite. She brushed the long blonde hair out of her face, her large lips pursed and her eyelids partially closed over her ocean-blue eyes from the glare of the sun.

Before she could respond to Josh and the situation at hand, she was flooded by an experience from her childhood. Something here brought memories to her mind of her father. Marley remembered the time her family had planned to go to Lake Shasta on a fishing trip.

Marley and her mother had been responsible for the meal planning, the preparation, and reserving the cabin. Marley's father, Leland, had only needed to obtain the fishing licenses and gather...