Free Stay With Me by Carolyn Astfalk Page A

on cue, a faint hoot sounded in the direction the owl had flown.
    “Chris?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Would you sleep a little closer to me?”
    He knew she couldn’t see his expression, but he
smiled. He hoped she couldn’t hear it in his voice. “How close?” He dragged his
bag and sleeping pad with him as he scooched across the tent floor towards
Rebecca.
    “Next to me.”
    He repositioned his sleeping pad, bag, and pillow
alongside hers, lying on his stomach while she remained on her back.
    “Still scared?”
    “Just a little. I’m not used to this.”
    Raising himself onto his elbows, he leaned over her
and tenderly kissed her taut lips once and then again before scooting back down
into his bag.
    “I thought you promised no fooling around.” She was
smiling. He was sure of it; he could hear it in her voice. The kiss he had
given her was reserved and controlled. She could not construe that as
threatening.
    “Kissing’s not fooling around. At least not that
kind of kissing.”
    He had been desperate to kiss her earlier when they
were setting up the tent but had resisted. She had turned toward him and was
tucked perfectly against his chest. His heart rate had sped up and his hands
had ached to pull her to him and kiss her like crazy, but he wouldn’t break his
promise to her. He wanted her to trust him.
    “Chris?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you pray at night?”
    Good—a change of subject. If she could get her mind
off of being scared he knew she’d be fine. “I do.”
    “What do you say?”
    “Well, I thank God for the day, and I do an
examination of conscience and say an Act of Contrition.”
    “You do what and say what?”
    “I think about the sins I committed that day and
ask God to forgive me.”
    “Oh . . . Can I pray with you tonight?”
    “Sure.”
    The polyester sack crinkled as she shifted onto her
belly and folded her hands on her pillow. “I’ll start and then you do your act
of whatever it was there.”
    Chris chuckled. “Okay.”
    Her gaze followed his right hand as he made the
sign of the cross. She waited, so he nodded for her to begin.
    “Lord, thank you for our safe trip here today.
Thank you for the beauty you’ve created here—the mountains, the trees, the
wildflowers, and the animals. Thank you for Chris and for all he’s done to make
me comfortable here. Please keep us safe from harm.”
    She looked up, signaling she was done, so he spoke.
“Now I take a minute to think about my sins.” He bowed his head over his folded
hands, so he didn’t see if she did the same. Then he thought about his day. How
he had been short-tempered with his mom when she pressed him for information
about Rebecca. How he had thought himself better than the sloppy obese man at
the campsite near the road. And how his eyes and his imagination had lingered a
little too long on Rebecca’s curves while she helped him put up the tent. He
looked back up, and she had an earnest expression on her face. She gave him a
small smile, and then he recited an Act of Contrition from memory. She joined
him in the “amen” and then watched as he blessed himself again.
    “Why do you do that?” she asked, setting off a half
hour or more of conversation about the practice of his faith. She was
respectful and inquisitive, and her questions were sincere. Chris found that
they helped him refine his own thoughts about why he did what he did. Finally,
she said, “I like the Act of—what was it?”
    “Contrition.”
    “Yeah. It says it all. I’m sorry, here’s why, and
this is what I’m going to do about it so it doesn’t happen again.”
    “That’s pretty much it.”
    “Maybe you can teach it to me.”
    “I’d be happy to.”
    After that, they must have both drifted off to
sleep. The next thing Chris knew he was awakened by an ear-splitting crack of
thunder that reverberated in the ground beneath them. Rebecca shrieked and
called out to him.
    His own heart thundered from the shock of it, but
he had been in storms at