Dark Arts (10 page)

“Hello,” she said with a giggle.

“Sorry, been in close quarters for too long,
not used to having a door to close,” Maxwell said as he buttoned
the jean shorts. “Not many secrets on that bus.”

“No complaints,” Miranda said. “You didn’t
tell me to stay downstairs, either. Oh, I found towels.”

He turned to see her framed by the doorway,
down to her dark swimsuit, having left her dress behind somewhere
along the way. She was holding up a pair of large folded towels.
“That’s good,” Max said, closing the trunk and locking it. He put
the key under the leg of the bedframe. “As long as I don’t have to
use the towel I stole from a hotel a month ago. It hasn’t been
washed since.”

He stepped outside and locked the bedroom
door, wedging the key in a tiny space where the wall met the floor
on the other side of the hallway. “Worried about people getting
into your room?” Miranda asked. “Here?”

“No, luv,” Max said, accepting a towel from
her. He felt a strange lump in his pocket and realized then that
he’d taken the shard with him. “Just making sure I get the nicest
bed in the house. Never know who’ll try to take the room.”

“Do you still have a room in the main
house?” Miranda asked as they headed down the stairs.

“I cleared out by June,” Maxwell said.
“Thought this would be our summer, you know? Coming back from tour
early wasn’t the plan, there’s just not much booking out there. Too
many disco stages. Looks like I’ll be moving back in.”

“Well I’m happy you’re back,” Miranda
said.

“That’s a silver lining,” Maxwell replied as
they passed through the front door. “A shiny one.”

They made their way out of the cabin.
Miranda was about to go towards the main beach. Maxwell could hear
the murmur of the crowd and sounds of children at play. He put his
arm around her waist and said; “You remember when you were here,
there was the big beach, and the other beach?” He slowly guided her
in the other direction, watching a smile grow across her face.

“We were never allowed to go there,” she
replied.

“Now it’s our turn,” Maxwell said. “Thought
that’s where you meant to take me when you tried to drag me off to
the beach.” He led the way down a nearly grown in path behind the
cabin. It was clear enough to walk down at night, but straying
would get anyone lost in the dark. During the day, it was dim, hot
and the air felt thick.

A natural cave leading through a rock face
awaited them, it had been cleaned up and a thick boardwalk was
built to lead through it. The cool air in the dark passage was a
momentary relief. As soon as they reached the other side, a waft of
pot smoke drifted past the entrance. “I’m no prude,” Miranda said.
“But I’m not going to smoke, or take anything this weekend, except
for maybe a few beers. I’m not going to do anything I know I’ll
regret either,” she said.

Maxwell looked back at her and she avoided
his gaze, obviously wary. “I just don’t want that loud beach,” he
said. “I’m not dragging you off to get you high, luv. Feels like
I’ve been on the road years, seen more people half-mad on that
stuff. Just dealt with one of them.” He had her full attention, her
expression had already turned from one of trepidation to a soft
smile and in the golden light of the afternoon as it was screened
by leaves overhead, she was prettier than any women he’d ever seen.
He wanted to do what his well-tested instincts told him to, to take
advantage of the situation and get closer, but he decided to trust
her instead. “In all that time, after all those parties and strange
places, what I think I saw today has done my head in worse than
anything.” He stepped in closer to her. “If the first thing you
said when you came through there was that you’d be getting lost on
an acid trip, or even lost in some smoke, I’d have found my way off
alone somewhere.”

“I can help you with whatever’s going on,
Max,” she whispered, taking his hand. “We’ll have an afternoon,
some quiet.”

She took the lead then, slowly following the
last twenty feet of the trail down to a secluded beach, located in
the nook of a bend on the relatively small, spring fed lake. The
beach shore wasn’t sandy, but made of tiny, fine grey pebble stone
gathered from a nearby streambed.

There was a large fire pit and a smaller one
off to the side. With trees bending down overhead, encroaching
ferns and other undergrowth all around, the sounds of the larger
beach were absent, and there was room for twenty people, their
towels, coolers, and any other basic beach supplies. The pot
smokers who Max and Miranda caught a whiff of earlier were near the
trail entrance sitting on lawn chairs in the nude. “Two beards, can
you take that down the beach a bit?” Max asked politely of the
trio. “Breeze is carrying that right into the cave.”

“Sure, man,” the nearest one said as he
passed the pipe to a young woman to his right.

“Two beards,” she chuckled and pointing at
his long beard and his crotch.

“Oh, that’s right on,” the glassy-eyed young
man to her right said. “That’s it, man, that’s making it all the
way back to San-Fran. You’re Two Beards from now on.” He started
standing and picking up his lawn chair. “You’re all-right, dude,”
he said to Max as he held his thumb up and shook it at him before
moving on.

“The other way, mate,” Max said, pointing
towards the edge of the beach furthest from the more public, all
ages site. “No one cares if you smoke, we just don’t want to send a
cloud over to the uptight beach.”

“Oh, right, man,” he replied. The trio made
their way to the other end, and Maxwell got his first look at the
space since the previous summer. There were people at all three of
the unlit fire pits, and nudity seemed to be the craze that
afternoon. He could see at least fifteen people, and he counted
four swimsuits, his and Miranda’s included.

She seemed unaffected by the scene as they
walked closer to the water and spread their towels out onto the
fine pebbles. “Do you know any of these people?” she asked
quietly.

“Don’t recognize anyone,” Maxwell replied.
It was unusual, the Gathering had brought young people from around
the world, enough to outnumber the locals many times over. It was
still early for them yet. On a Friday many of them would still be
working that early in the afternoon. Miranda curled up with her arm
across his chest as soon as he settled in, and rolled up against
him for only a moment before saying; “way too hot for that,” and
rolling away so air was passing between their bodies. “You come
here a lot when you’re home?” she asked.

“All the time, usually with my acoustic, but
that’s been smashed,” Maxwell said. “Normally there’s only two or
so people here, five people is busy.”

“What happened to your guitar?” Miranda
asked.

“Zachary,” Maxwell said. “Last year’s been
bad, especially for him and Darren.”

“Why especially them?”

“Started on a high with the record out all
winter, sold a couple thousand around, then we get on the road to
find it’s not in record stores. The company bought most of those
copies to boost numbers, shipped most of them to radio stations and
a few hundred to us. Sent us the bill for the ones we got too.
Bernie, Scott and I had to take turns running ahead of the tour as
soon as we started, trying to get a few shop keeps to buy them, put
them out. We’re down to what’s in the house, sold everything we
brought with us, but we worked our asses off, sold most of them at
gigs, really.”

“And that’s what’s been hard for them?”
Miranda asked. “What about you?”

“Zack and Darren expected more out of this
summer than anyone, I think, starting on that kind of high, and
getting out there to see disco taking over everywhere, getting as
many cancellations as we did gigs, it brought them way down.”

“What about you?” Miranda said, rolling over
so she could look at him with her chin on his chest. “I know I’ve
only been around today, but I can feel how tense you are.”

“And you’re a relaxing sort to be with,”
Maxwell said with a raised eyebrow. “I must be a bunch of rods and
nuts ‘round everyone else.”

“I’m serious,” Miranda said. “I have your
record, it’s really good, especially the parts without Zack, you
must have been on a high when you started the tour too.”

“I was too busy earning,” Max said, stroking
her cheek instinctively. He’d never had close, comfortable moments
with anyone like he was having with Miranda. He could see her
sweating as much as he was, though, and the water was looking more
inviting by the second. “I picked up where my father left off when
the money ran out a week into the tour. Started looking for that
damned book, too. Didn’t have time to wallow about all our
misfortunes.”

Maxwell caught sight of Two Beards and his
lady friend, her long blonde hair hanging limp past her shoulders
in the still air, approaching with a plastic bag in her hand. He
recognized the shape of what was inside from twenty feet away, two
beer bottles. Their gentle jingling confirmed it.

Miranda turned to see what Maxwell was
smiling at. “Hello again,” Miranda called out.

Two Beards smiled at them both as his blonde
friend gave Miranda the bag. “We thought, since you two don’t
smoke, maybe we could bring you some beers instead. The lady down
there said you’re kind of the King and Queen this Gathering, so
it’s probably good for our energy here. I’m Candace, and this is
Peter, but I think he’ll be Two Beards for the rest of the week.
Our friend is Gavin.”

“I’m Max, this is Miranda,” he replied.
“King and Queen?”

“You’ve got this aura around you, man,” Two
Beards said. “You can’t see it, you’re inside it, I dig, but it’s
like this golden green thing, letting the shadows out in little
pieces. Burnt leaves, floating away on the wind.”

“You are very high,” Maxwell said with a
smirk.

A sharp elbow in the ribs was Miranda’s
response to his remark. “Thank you very much, we’re all equal this
week,” she said.

“Why don’t you get down to your real skin,
man,” Two Beards said innocently. “It’s nothing to anyone here, but
it’s going to make your flow go so much better. Helps get the air
at you too, feelin’ free.”

“Maybe I can get some of what you’re smoking
later?” Max asked. “I’m in the main cabin, I’m sure I’ll have
something to trade.”

“Sure, man,” Two Beards said. “Yeah, I’ll
get around there tonight. You think on what I say though, dig?”

“Get naked, won’t be able to stop thinking
about it now,” Max replied.

Two Beards seemed satisfied with the
exchange and turned back towards the group his trio joined at the
outer edge of he beach. His girlfriend leaned down low. “You’re
right, he’s really high, but he’s right too,” she whispered before
turning and catching up to him.

“Paying respect to the King and Queen of
auras,” Maxwell said, shaking his head. “Going to be a week to
remember.”

“Could be,” Miranda said. “Something to
think about though, I don’t see anyone else wearing a stitch.”

Maxwell raised his head and glanced down the
beach long enough to get an eyeful of young to middle aged nude
loungers and bathers then put his head back down. Even the people
who were wearing suits before had left them behind somewhere.
“Funny how suits disappear here.”

Miranda’s face made another appearance in
front of his, her chin resting on the top of his chest. Her brown
eyes stared into his. “Never gone nude on a beach before.”

“Who, me?” Maxwell asked. “Maybe when I was
a wee thing, two or three.”

“No, me,” Miranda said. She was blushing
from her full lips to her sweat-covered forehead. “There was a lot
of topless going on in Spain, but I never went nude. I don’t
know…”

“Ignore ‘em, we don’t have to if you don’t
want to,” Maxwell said. “I’ll take one of those beers in a minute
though.”

“Good,” Miranda said, putting her head down.
Maxwell felt her sigh against him as he traced his fingers along
the arm she had across his chest. “This is nice,” she whispered
after a few passes of his hand. “I feel a little out of place
though.”

Maxwell didn’t have patience to listen to
her go back and forth on the decision to take her one-piece suit
off, or much modesty, and as much as he liked being close to
Miranda, he could feel sweat pooling on him. “Time for a dip then,”
he said, extracting himself from her, standing up and dropping the
little clothing he had on his way into the water.

He could not ignore how aggressively cold it
was. Spring fed lakes were frigid regardless of the weather, but he
did manage to outwardly pretend it was no problem at all as he ran
to diving depth and leapt forward. It was just as much a shock as
it was relief.

He managed to face away from the beach as he
resurfaced, gasping once. A few long strokes took him to neck depth
waters on the beach’s slight grade. The curve and peninsula in the
shape of the lake provided a natural divide complete with tall,
thick trees between the two beaches. The quiet of the calm, cool
water was always a comfort to him. Maxwell couldn’t deny that he
was a creature most suited to summer.

His bravado was rewarded as he looked back
towards the beach from where he was almost neck deep in water.
Miranda was running towards the water, her swimsuit left behind. He
was quietly thrilled at the sight, she was more beautiful than he
would have guessed. An instant later she splashed into the water up
to her knees, shrieked, tried to stop and fell in. Miranda came up
sputtering. She recovered with a little more grace, flinging her
wet hair back and beginning her wading journey towards him.

Maxwell began walking towards her. She
noticed him when he was waist deep. “Oh, no,” she said, sloshing a
couple steps down the bank.

“You’re already wet,” he chided. “May as
well come the rest of the way in.”