A Day in The Life of Hazel Kamalachi; Chapter 14, The Hiking Trip

by Heather in the Earth Kingdom

A/N: SOOOOO sorry it took SOOOOO long. And it's SOOOOOO short, but I have writing block. Hope you like!

Jake licked a drop of root beer off his finger, and, not completely full yet, refilled his glass with more. His cheeks were rosy with coldness, though his mom couldn’t figure out why, when it was already April. He stared at his empty glass sadly.

“You know, after having 3 glasses of root beer,” he said, “you’d think you wouldn’t be thirsty anymore.”

Hazel was seated next to him, having not even finished one glass. She shook her head in defeat, listening to the scene: Jake rambling about root beer and chugging down a glass, a minute for two cups, his mom cleaning the dishes and prodding a suitcase down below.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Hazel, dear?” His mom asked, licking a slob of butter that had mysteriously jumped from her pancake onto her shirt. Hazel watched her, fascinated of how they could actually walk that far.

“No, I could never do that,” she said, her eyes sliding away from them. She sighed. “You guys are hiking 20 miles over spring break; camping out, too. I don’t think I can even hike 3 miles.”
Jake slammed his cup down, his eyes glassy.

“Well, we’ll miss you,” said Jake, refilling his cup with soda. His mom grabbed it from him, her emerald eyes sharply piercing.

“Jacob, if you drink anymore caffeine, I’m sure you’ll explode,” she snapped.
Hazel laughed and stabbed her fork into the delicious breakfast they’d prepared her: buttered strawberry pancakes, cinnamon toast, and a pint of orange juice. Well, she thought, maybe they prepared it for themselves. She’d come over at 9:00 AM to say goodbye and they gave her breakfast.

“I need it if we’re going to hike five miles a day,” said Jake, “plus it’s sort of good for me.”

His mom gave him a ‘matter of fact’ look and patted his head.

“It is?” she asked, picking up the suitcase. Jake shrugged. Hazel smiled, and looking at the microwave clock, gulped. It read 11:32 AM; time for them to leave. His mom, Hollis, noticed and took her plate. The sun was now out completely: a mixed shade of yellows and oranges, little blobs of gray for the clouds, spider-like green lines reaching to the clouds for trees, no outlines. She nodded; cueing for Hazel to leave.
Hazel padded to the door, and went outside, still chewing a bite of toast. The oak tree that ducked behind her house was just a blur; the narrow sliver of river and its muddy bank had disappeared in a mist of gray humidity. Not a good condition to drive to the trail, she thought.
A little warm, she fanned herself, watching that world. It was so pretty, so artificial. Still kind of half awake, Hazel silently walked to the humid riverbank: an interesting site, with grassy shallow patches smoothed out, little paw prints dotted in the mud, fading near the stream. The tiny bit she could see of the ocean was dark and muggy, but still flowing gently.
Her hair blew back against her cheek from the sea breeze, rubbing her neck like a cat. A roar of wind came down the valley: Jake’s car. Hazel watched as it pulled out of the driveway, rumbling away, not to be seen for a long time.

“Have fun, Jake,” she whispered silently.