Love is Blind
By: Nick Brady
(© 2019 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 3
Camping 

 When I went to Ian's room on Sunday afternoon his door was open and he had earphones hooked up to his tape recorder and was pecking away on a little machine. I rapped on his door and he raised up to ask, “Andrew?”

“Hi. What have you got there?”

“This is my Braille machine. I use it to summarize my audio tapes from class.”

“Cool. How does this work?”

“Braille writing is a set of six raised dots that stand for various letters and numbers – some are like shorthand. I can read Braille about as quickly as you can read print.”

I ran my finger across the page to feel the dots. “Is it hard to learn how to do this?”

“About as hard as it was for you to learn how to read printed letters. There's a simpler version that you start out with in grade school, then you keep adding to it.”

“You have lots of tools, I guess.” I was impressed.

Ian was back in business mode so I read a short story to him. He asked a couple of questions and we were done. Over the next few weeks I read to him several nights a week after supper, then he would relax and we talked and joked around. We started spending more time together, going over to the Student Union to hang out and watch TV. I whispered a few things to him but he got most of it on his own.

One day he told me he was going to meet Stuart before supper. We're going to meet at the Campus Tavern for a beer,” he said.

“Is this your first time to talk to Stuart?”

“The first time to meet in person. I've talked to him on the phone a few times. He seems like a nice guy. Would you like to join us?”

“Sure. They're pretty casual about checking for ID's. They've never carded me.”

“We can let Stuart order the beer,” he laughed. “Want to drop by so we can walk over there together?”

I fetched Ian about five. “You pass right by the tavern on your way to the boarding house,” I told him.

“I think I know where it is. I can smell the beer and cigarette smoke when I pass by.”

Ian brought his cane but took my arm to make better time. When we walked in there were several guys sitting around and a heavy-set man wearing dark glasses, smoking a pipe, and sitting in a booth. "I bet that's him," I told Ian.

“Stuart?” Ian asked.

“Yes. You must be Ian,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Stuart. I've brought my friend Andrew.”

We sat down opposite Stuart and I noticed a large black dog lying under the table.

“Who's this guy?” I asked.

“That's Brutus,” Stuart laughed. “Don't step on him.”

The barman asked us what we wanted and Stuart told him “Three draw beers.” They arrived on the table with no questions asked. “So how are things going for you, Ian?”

“Very well, thank you. Andrew and I eat at the same boarding house and he's been reading for me.”

“Good. It's not always easy to find a good reader.”

“Andrew reads very well and he's been helpful in a lot of ways,” Ian said. “I'm lucky to have his friendship.”

Stuart smiled. “No doubt. Are you adapting to college life?”

"So far, so good. It's a lot different than OSB. Actually, I'm enjoying it."

We chatted and joked while we drank our beer. At one point I looked down at Brutus lying peacefully under the table. “Does your dog like beer?” I asked.

“Oh no,” Stuart replied. “He doesn't drink. He's driving.” Stuart laughed.

After a second beer, Ian and I excused ourselves saying that we didn't want to be late for supper. Stuart remained and ordered another.

As we walked to our boarding house, I asked Ian, “Will he be OK?”

“Oh sure. Brutus will get him home. I guess that's one of the advantages of a guide dog. Stuart has Brutus and I have you.”

I laughed. “Do I qualify as a guide dog?”

“No. You're a lot better than Brutus. He doesn't have a Chevy.”

Toward the end of October we had some nice fall weather. The days were warm and sunny and the nights were cool and crisp. It was my favorite camping weather. I asked Ian one evening, "What would you think about tent camping this weekend?"

“I've never done that but it sounds exciting. How would that work?”

“I've got a pop-up tent and a few camping things. We could go out Saturday and come back Sunday. What do you think?”

“Would we make a campfire and cook out there?

“That's the idea. Would you be up for that?”

“Certainly. I won't even need a flashlight. What can I bring to this party?”

“I've got everything we need. Bring a coat in case it gets chilly at night. We can split the cost of groceries if you like.”

“I would insist on that. Oh yes, I would love to go camping!”

I picked Ian up on Saturday morning and we drove over to the little market just off campus where I stocked us with enough food to feed us for the weekend and a carton of Coors beer. The perishables and the beer went into my cooler and the rest we left in grocery bags. My tent and some gear were in the trunk.

I drove us out to the lake and we found a campsite near the water. Ian helped me thread the tent poles through the nylon sleeves of the tent and it went up quickly with a minimum of fuss. I tossed several blankets and a big sleeping bag inside and we were ready.

The sun was warm and the sky was clear. “There are a lot of hiking trails in the park. Are you feeling adventurous?”

“This whole trip is an adventure,” Ian laughed. “You lead and I will follow.”

I put a bottle of water and two Snickers bars in my rucksack and we were off. The trail led us past the lake and into a wooded area. Ian left his cane behind and bravely took my arm. The path was not paved but fairly smooth.

“It cooler in here,” Ian said. “I can tell that there are a lot of trees around us. Do you hear the birds? Oh! That's a crow.” He was interested in the smells, the sounds of leaves rustling under our feet, the texture of the tree trunks. He was aware of more than I was. We took our time as we made a short loop back to our campsite.

“Are you hungry?” I asked when we returned. “I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  That's what's for lunch.” We sat in front of my little tent and enjoyed the sandwiches and the soft breeze that came off of the lake.

“This is nice,” Ian said quietly.

“This time of year is my favorite time to go camping,” I told him. “The days are warm, the nights are cool and the bugs have gone.”

I looked off to a small dock that was connected to the shore by a walkway. “When was the last time you went fishing?” I asked.

“Never. All of this is new to me.”

“I have a couple of fishing poles in the car. Would you like to try your luck?” Ian's smile said he would.

I gathered up my meager fishing gear and we made our way to the dock with Ian on my arm. I had picked up a small container of night crawlers from the market and threaded the hooks on both poles with the wiggling worms, placing a lead weight just above the hook. Ian touched the baited hook and nodded his head. He understood.

We sat on the edge of the dock and I dropped my line into the water letting the line sink to the bottom. After explaining the Zebco reel to Ian, he did the same thing. “You'll know it's on the bottom because the line will go slack. Can you tell when that happens?”

“Yes. I can feel it if I let the line pass through my fingers.”

“When the line goes slack you want to reel it in a little so the hook is hanging just above the bottom,” I said. “Hold the line lightly and if something bothers the worm you should be able to feel it.”

We sat quietly and focused on our lines. If I were by myself I would probably put a float on the line and watch for its movement, but knew that Ian could best see with his fingers.

“Oh! Something is there. I can feel it,” Ian said with surprise.

“The fish is checking out the worm. Wait until he runs with it.”

"It's stopped now," Ian said. "What do I do?"

“He may have sucked the worm off the hook,” I laughed. “Pull it up and let's check it.”

Ian reeled in his line to find a bare hook on the end. “I can do this,” he said and managed to impale another worm then dropped it back to the bottom.

I was so interested in watching Ian that I neglected my own pole. He was leaning forward, communicating with the worm through his sensitive fingers. “He's back. I can feel him playing with my hook.” Suddenly he jerked on the line and shouted, “I think I got him! What do I do?”

“Reel him in. Turn that crank before he gets away.”

Ian did as I suggested and the line began to move from side to side as he reeled it in. Then it broke the surface with a splash. I leaned out and grabbed the line, quickly tossing it behind us. “Lord, look at that! You got a nice bass. I figured it was a catfish.”

“Is that good? I don't know much about fish.”

“That's the best. It's a big one too. Would you like fish for supper?” I laughed.

Ian was very excited. “I did it! I caught a fish!”

“You sure did. Not bad for your first try.”

“Now what do we do?”

We moved back to shore with our treasure and I took a sharp knife out of my fishing bag. “We need to clean this sucker.” I sliced off the head, slit it down the belly, pulled out the entrails then flipped it from side to side and scaled it with the back of my knife. Ian closely followed the process with his hands.

“Be careful,” I warned him. “This knife is sharp.”

Ian inspected the finished product. “That's a nice one. Can you cook it out here?”

“Oh sure, that's not a problem. There's enough for two. I hope you like fish.”

“I love fish. We won't have to worry about it being fresh enough!”

“It's getting close to supper time and I need to build a fire. Have you had enough fishing for one day?”

“I suppose, but I'd like to do it again. How will you build a fire?”

"We need to scrounge up some firewood. There is plenty of deadwood under the trees. Let me take a look."

“I can help,” Ian insisted.

He took my arm and I led him to a place where some dead limbs had fallen. “We should be able to break up enough for a decent fire,” I suggested. Ian gamely felt his way around the fallen limbs and managed to break off a small armload of sticks the size of his thumb. With a few larger pieces we had enough for a decent cooking fire.

There was a fire pit at our campsite where I placed a bundle of dry grass in the center then stacked sticks around the sides to form a tepee of wood for the fire. “Once we get it going I can add the larger pieces. We'll let it burn down to make a bed of coals.”

“I think I understand,” Ian said. “But I'll let you light it.”

When our fire was burning well, I added more wood and got the fish ready. I washed it carefully, then sprinkled it with salt and pepper and wrapped it in foil. “When the coals are ready I'll lay this on top to cook.”

“Won't it burn?”

“Not if it's wrapped tight. It will steam in its own juices.”

Ian was fascinated with all this. I could tell it was his first experience and was enjoying it immensely. I opened a can of baked beans and placed it next to the fish to heat. “We have fish, beans and I brought a loaf of bread. Will that be enough?”

“I'm sure it will. You're a good cook, Andrew.”

“I learned to do this in Scouts. You can cook as well on a campfire as in a kitchen if you know how.”

I opened a couple of beers and we sat down to wait for our supper. “Are you having fun?” I asked.

Ian sat with his arms around his knees. “Oh yes. I never dreamed camping could be so much fun. I always wanted to do something like this.”

“Do you think you could do this by yourself?”

“Probably not, but if we do it again I can be more helpful.”

“I'm sure we can camp again. You make it fun for me. You're good company, Ian.”

He smiled and said, "It's beginning to smell good. Will it be ready soon?"

“It won't take long. I'll turn the fish over and get out the bread and by then it should be ready. I have some paper plates for us to eat from.”

I carefully unwrapped the fish, releasing a delicious odor, stirred the beans and lifted the steamed fish from the bones, putting half on each plate. With the bread it made a very nice meal washed down with another cold beer.

“Oh! This is wonderful,” Ian exclaimed.

“Thanks for the fish. You're the one who caught it,” I reminded him.

Ian smiled and wiped the plate with the last of his bread. “This has been a day of new experiences.”

“For me too. Is there anything you can't do?”

Ian smiled. “Not with a little help. Thanks, Andrew.”

I threw the rest of the wood we had gathered onto the fire and we finished the beer while it burned away in the growing darkness. The temperature began to drop when the sun went down and we were getting cold. I slipped into the tent and brought out one of the blankets.

“Let me sit next to you, Ian. I have something to keep us warm.” We sat side by side with the blanket wrapped around both of us and simply enjoyed the quiet. I put my arm around his shoulder and held him close. “Are you warm enough?” I asked.

“Yes. You make a good heater,” he laughed.

After the nice supper and the last beer, we sat for some time was the fire died to embers.

“It's nice to sit like this,” I said softly.

"Yes, it is," Ian replied and laid his head on my shoulder. "I've had a wonderful day." After a bit, he added, "I think I'm falling asleep. Should we get into the tent?"

I stood and we went to roll out the sleeping bag. It was an old Coleman double bag that I used when I was a boy. It was ample for two and we would be warmer together. Once the tent was zipped up it was snug inside and we undressed for bed, stripping down to shorts and a T-shirt. “I hope you don't mind the double bag,” I said. “It's all I have with me but it should be roomy enough for both of us.”

“It'll be fine,” Ian replied. “I don't mind at all.”

We wiggled into the bag and I tried to move over so that Ian had plenty of room but we were touching in places and I could feel the warmth of his skin. He seemed to be comfortable with the arrangement.

I thought he had gone to sleep when he said softly, “I've enjoyed being with you today, Andrew. I've never had a friend like you. I will always remember this day.”

“I can say the same. You make me see a lot of things differently. You're aware of so much I think I'm learning from you.”

“That's a nice thing to say. I suppose we can learn from each other.”

“You catch on to things very quickly,” I hesitated. “I really like you a lot, Ian. I'm so glad we can do things together.”

Ian turned on his side and our legs touched. “I like you too. I never had a friend like you before.”

I ran the back of my hand over his T-shirt to feel his slim body beneath. “I guess it's mutual then.”

Ian gently laid his hand on my shoulder. “I'm a little cold. Do you suppose you could hold me?”

 I pulled him close and felt his warmth against the length of me. I was aware that he was strong and that his hair smelt nice.

Ian was right. It had been a day to remember.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/08/2021