Libertine Camp

They were sitting Indian style around a fire built from sticks and brush found around the campsite. While the five girls were passing around a bag of wine, the men

were drinking their own private beers and passing a bottle of cheap whiskey to each other, if only to keep warm. Ted, Jim and Sanchez were the only men, or at

least young men there. At the beginning of the trail there was a cabin where an old, surprisingly high-browed man lived. He was not a woodsman.
The eight friends parked their two cars, a Honda Civic and a Jeep Cherokee at the cabin’s free trail parking area, and hiked up a slight hill. The trees were full of

autumn color yet with the sun setting behind the ridge of another small mountain, the only colors they could see clearly were the yellow, as all the reds and oranges

just looked brown in that lighting.

Jim took control of the fire, while Ted in deep thought gathered sticks and whistled. Sanchez was talking to one of the girls, Cara, about a reality TV show.

“I can see my breath…we need to hurry,” said Ted to Jim.
Jim nodded.”It’s almost ready, toss me your lighter.”
Ted reached into his pocket and pulled out two lighters and gave a wink at Jim. They began lighting the crinkled newspapers that were lying beneath the brush and

leaves. Above the brush and leaves were the teepee shaped twigs and over those were the larger branches that were dry enough to catch. When the twigs caught

flame, the air gently moved between the larger branches allowing them to burn faster and before the sun set, the fire was large and warm.

Three girls were sitting on one blanket, and Sanchez was in his fold out beach chair. Ted sacrificed his original seat on the comfort of leaves and pine needles to let

Jim and Samantha sit together away from the direction of the wind.

Valerie patted her hand against the fleece blanket and scooted over so he could join the three girls but he shook his head and lay backwards with his palms flat

against the ground, fingers pointed away from the fire, and looked at the now star-lit sky.

“Oh Valerie… if I could sit next to you forever I would, but having to leave you to go behind that tree over there and take a piss would break my heart. So I’ll stay

here, where only my lungs, filling with smoke from cigarettes and burning wood, will be the only part of me that hurts.”
“Oh Ted! How romantic, you drunk.” Valerie said and they all laughed.
“I’m only and poet when I am drunk and I want to be a poet, so I must be drunk all the time.”
“And that is why you will be alone forever.” Jim chimed in.
“No I will be alone forever because all poets are libertines, and a libertine is always alone until they are doing libertine things.” Said Ted in with a full but sad smile.
“And what are libertine things Ted?” asked Jim.
“What is a libertine?” Sanchez asked.
Ted, looking Sanchez dead in the eyes, and speaking with resentment, “It is the opposite of you.”
“Oh Teddy Bear is getting mad,” said Jules, looking at Samantha for approval.
“I am not mad, I am being honest. But then thinking about it, I just may not be a libertine, maybe I am just someone who likes being around libertines. Anyways,

Sanchez, a libertine is someone who embraces life, everything with no morals and no thought of right and wrong because there is no such thing. You see that

mountain,” pointing through the barely visible trees at a mountain with snow on the peak above the tree line, “well if that mountain crumbled and toppled or

whatever, and killed us all, would you think people would call that mountain evil, no, they would call that an act of nature that happened to take the lives of eight

lovely young campers. That is nature, that is libertine, but a libertine is a lover, not a killer, and the very downfall of libertines, bon vivants, writers, artists, poets,

yadayadayada, is that they love and feel too much. Especially in drunken stupors. That is my downfall, so I must be a libertine.”
“What are you talking about Ted?” Jules asked, once again, looking at Samantha.
“He’s talking about something that you’ll never understand sweetheart,” said Samantha with a wink at Ted.

As the conversations lingered away from Ted’s topic, the stars and the mood became brighter. Music from Sanchez’s iPhone played loudly through the woods and

Michael Jackson’s dance impersonations were done, rather perfectly against the smooth pine needles on the ground, Jim and Samantha danced, as did Ted and Valerie. Sanchez tried to dance with Jules’ but she was too busy dancing with Mary, while keeping an eye on Samantha.

Valerie put her head on Ted’s shoulder and he kissed her hair. They were shivering together in the cold New Hampshire wilderness, about 15 miles from the Canadian border.

As Sanchez, Mary, Jules and Cara went into their tent, Samantha, Jim, Ted and Valerie moved back to the fire. They sat, the young men holding their loves with pride. The girls were now drinking small sips of whiskey and Jim was talking about a new project he was working on. And while Ted was listening to him, his mind was on Valerie, and how she would never love him and how she would go back to school and how he would go back to the city and never see her again. But he sat there, listening to Jim, holding on tight to Valerie, and smiling, staring into the fire.