Page 66 of The Wild Man

I look at Wild Man. He’s not paying attention to either of us as he starts digging into the pack. He pulls out a toothbrush and tosses it into the pile of junk he’s accumulated over the years. I’ll be digging that out later. Then he pulls out a tube of toothpaste. Before he can toss that, I snatch it from his hand. He pauses his exploration of the pack to glance at me.

“Toothpaste is your friend,” I tell him.

He’s been keeping his teeth relatively clean by the mint leaves, but this will do a much better job.

He goes back to digging in the pack, and I look back at Ben.

“How often do you come?”

“I figured prolly once a month or so.” He spits a piece of gristle into the fire. “’Bout the time he would be needin’ more. I’m a bit late this time cause my gout was givin’ me hell.” His weathered hand rubs over one of his knees. “I left here that first day leavin’ everything I had. Owed it to him for what he did. Told him I’d be back, but I don’t think he understood. He was a might surprised when I did come back with more supplies.”

“Did you ever try to get him to leave with you?” I ask curiously.

“I asked, but again, he just ignored me.”

“Did you tell the authorities or anyone else about him?”

From all the rumors I’ve heard about the wild man in the woods, none of them could be confirmed. As far as everyone knew, no one had ever actually met the mysterious man and communicated with him. Everything was just speculation. A tale someone told years ago, but not one anyone could prove as true. Most people thought the rumors were just stories, but I always believed them.

“Nah.” Ben shrugs, tossing another chunk of meat into his mouth. “Boy seemed alright out here by his self. Seemed like it was the place he wanted to be, and if he wanted to leave, he could have easily followed me. Who was I to bring people ’round he may not want to see?”

His answer is reasonable, but it’s also sad. Wild Man was never given the opportunity to make the choice of living in civilization or alone in the wilderness. However, if an eyewitness, someone who actually met the wild man, had come forward, curious people would have flooded the area. Not to mention, the authorities would have probably gotten involved. I shudder to think about what would have happened to Wild Man if he were discovered.

“Fey.”

Ben looks up from his bowl. “Wuz that?”

“His name,” I reply.

His eyes slide to Wild Man. “Huh.” He brings them back to me. “It’s a strange one, ain’t it?”

“I figured it’s probably a variation of his name. He hasn’t heard the name in so long, he probably remembers it wrong. Or maybe it’s a nickname his parents gave him.”

“S’pose so.”

“Thank you for lending me your shirt.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Finished with the meat, Ben sets the bowl down and picks up the jug of water. He chugs half the contents before he wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.

I continue to watch the curious man. When he first came upon us, I didn’t know what to think of him. To a man like Wild Man, anyone could be a threat, and I’ve grown protective of my savage lover. But after sitting with Ben for just the little time I have, my worries have faded. Ben seems to really care about Wild Man. He was grateful to him for saving his life, but I get the feeling it’s grown to something more over the years he’s been coming out here. Something that resembles paternalism.

“Don’t reckon he’ll be needin’ those anymore,” he says with a chuckle.

I look down at what Wild Man just pulled from the pack. It’s another nudie magazine. He briefly glances at it before he throws it into the smoldering fire pile. My cheeks heat when I glance back at Ben, who has a knowing smirk on his face.

So that’s where he got the others from. I guess it makes sense for Ben to have brought them to Wild Man. Wild Man is a virile male in his prime with needs. Until recently, he had no sexual experiences to visualize. I bet those magazines came in real handy over the years.

“How did you come to be here with him?”

How much to tell him?

And more importantly, should I use this opportunity to try and get away?

Those two questions play around in my head on a loop as I think about my answer. Ultimately, the very last thing I want is for Wild Man to get hurt. My time spent with him may have started out painful, but I’ve grown to care for the man. More than I want to admit at the moment. Who knows, maybe it is Stockholm Syndrome, but it would devastate me if something were to happen to him. Just the thought sends a sharp pain to the center of my chest. And just as painful is the thought of leaving and never seeing him again. He’s become a vital part of my life. When I think about the future now, I see him there.

If I were to leave now, I’d be stripping a part of myself and leaving it behind. And my father and brothers would hound me until I told them where I was. They’d no doubt come for Wild Man. A chill races up my spine to think about what they would do to him. My family can be irrational and down-right dangerous when it comes to protecting our family. Especially me, the only female in the bunch.