Free Just Deserts by Eric Walters

said, spreading his hands about two feet.
    That thought made me feel a little better, although I certainly didn’t want to be startled by one.
    â€œAnd if you’re bitten by a viper, it’s not nearly as much fuss,” Larson said.
    â€œSo they’re not poisonous,” I said.
    â€œOh, no, they’re deadly poisonous. A bite would probably kill you within an hour or so.”
    â€œBut … but … how is that not as much fuss?” I asked, incredulous.
    â€œWell, if a scorpion bites you, we have to find a way to get you to a hospital, and that’s a lot of work. If a viper bites you, we just lay you down and either the winds bury you or the jackals eat you. Either way, that’s not much fuss.”
    Connor and Andy started laughing. Simple minds amused by simple things. I wondered just how loud they’d be laughing if one of them was stung or bitten.
    Just then a light appeared over the top of the dune and Kajsa reappeared. Apparently she had survived. She slid down the dune and rejoined our little group.
    All this talk about going to the washroom hadn’t made my situation any better. What made it easier was that Kajsa had just blazed a trail for me. I’d just follow her tracks and be pretty sure that nothing bad was in my path.
    â€œI’m going to try that bathroom thing,” I said as I got up and turned on my headlamp.
    â€œYou know about urine, right?” Larson asked.
    â€œAh … I think I’m familiar with the concept … I’ve been peeing for a long time now.”
    â€œAgain, I’m impressed, but you need to monitor your urine for quality and quantity,” he said.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Was I out here in the desert with some sort of pervert?
    â€œIt’s essential that you’re aware of your urine. Andy, could you please explain it to him?”
    Andy nodded his head formally. I think he was fighting the urge to salute.
    â€œThe greatest danger to a desert traveller is dehydration,” he began. “You need to consume sufficient water, and the best indicator of your level of hydration is demonstrated through your urination. One of the primary indications of dehydration is that the kidneys shut down and you are unable to void.”
    â€œVoid?”
    â€œTo pass urine.”
    â€œThen we have no fear of me being dehydrated, because I have to pee like a racehorse, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll just—”
    â€œThat’s only the most severe reaction,” Andy added. “You need to be aware of the colour of your urine. Good urine needs to be a light-yellow colour. If it gets too yellow, or thick, you could be facing problems.”
    â€œBelieve me, if my urine gets thick, I’ll let you know. Can I go now before I wet my pants?”
    â€œGood luck,” Andy said.
    I almost said something about how I was going to take a pee, not go off to war, but I didn’t think he’d find the humour in that. Frankly, I wasn’t sure he’d find the humour in anything.
    I started off. I tried my best to move slowly, casually, completely aware that while there wereonly four sets of eyes within miles, they were all upon me.
    I tilted my head slightly down to light a path a few feet ahead of me—a path marked by two sets of footprints, one out and one back. Kajsa’s steps wove a winding route around rocks and bushes—a route I assumed was safe, or at least safer than anything I could have come up with on my own. I started up the dune, the sand cascading down almost as fast as I was moving up. Reaching the top, I stopped, out of breath, and turned and looked back.
    The little fire and the four figures surrounding it were the only things I could see. In this big unknown world, they were the only things I knew at all, and I felt a reluctance to go down the far side of the dune and lose sight of them. I had the irrational thought that the moment I disappeared they