Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

trying to ignore the bright red heat of embarrassment that climbed up my neck and reached my ears and face.
    I grabbed the orange and one other that was nearby.   “Okay, put me down.”
    “Wait, dare’s anudder one over dare!” he said, jogging off to another tree.
    “Oh my god , you’re going to drop me!” I screeched, grabbing his hair and holding onto the oranges with my forearm against my stomach.
    “Get it.   Dare’s tree of dem.”
    I made a sling out of my shirt and dropped all the oranges in, glancing down and noticing for the first time he had stopped plugging his nose.   “Plug your nose!”
    “Oh, sorry!” he said, reaching up to pinch his nostrils again.   “Anudder one!” he said, starting to run again.
    I held onto his hair at first but it wasn’t working, so I reached under his head and grabbed his chin.   I could feel stubble there and it reminded me of my dad.   It was strange to have a memory of my dad wrapped up in this moment with Bodo.   It made it easier for me to laugh along with his teasing, which I was finally realizing this was.   He wasn’t just a dopey German guy.   He was a dopey, silly, fun German guy.
    “Get dem.   One, two, tree, four.   Now we have a picnic.”
    “Fine.   I have them all.   Now put me down .”
    “Okay,” he said cheerily, headed back towards Peter, taking long strides that reminded me of riding a horse.   He was really tall.
    “Any day now…”
    “Okay!”
    We came through the last row and arrived back at our bikes and Peter.   Buster was barking and running around.
    “Put me down before Buster tells every canner within five miles we’re here.”
    “Okay, you asked for it!” said Bodo, before he reached up and put his hands under my thighs.
    I only had enough time to yell, “What the hell are you…!” before I was launched up into the air above Bodo’s head.
    The oranges went flying in every direction as my arms and legs sprang out, trying to find purchase with something solid and only meeting air.   And then a split second later, I landed, cradled in Bodo’s arms.   He’d thrown me up above him and caught me like a baby.
    “Uh huh!   How about dat move?   You like dat one, yes?   Like da circus!”
    “Bodo, put me down, you ass.”
    He inhaled strongly and made a confused face.   Then a face like he smelled something distasteful.   “You are right.   You do smell.”
    I started hitting and kicking him in a flurry of fists and feet, no finesse to my moves at all.   I just wanted to get him the hell away from me and my smelly self.
    He dropped my legs so I was standing and then released me the rest of the way, ducking away from me and putting his arms and hands up to protect his face and head.   Once far enough away that I couldn’t reach him anymore, he went running away into the trees, laughing hysterically the whole way.
    Peter was dying - curled up on the tarp and holding Buster to him, laughing and snorting so hard I thought he was going to vomit.   Then he farted and laughed all over again.
    “Holy shit, you guys have problems,” I yelled, stalking off with a beet red face to find a private place to pee and bake in my humiliation.
    ***
    By the time I got back to the tarp, Peter and Bodo had calmed down and set out a lunch for us.   We each got a bottle of water, a chip, two oranges, and a dried hunk of beef from one of the army-navy meals.   It looked like a feast.
    “Wow, Peter, this looks awesome.”
    “Yeah, it’s like a real meal almost,” he agreed.
    “I put my food in da trailer too.   You can give it whenever you want.   I leave it for you,” Bodo said to Peter.
    I was too embarrassed to look at Bodo, so I looked at Buster instead, giving him a small chunk of my meat.   I noticed the guys did the same thing.   Buster also didn’t mind oranges, apparently.
    When I finished I got up and found the square of plastic and the water bucket.   “I’m going to set up the water catcher.   I’m sure it’ll rain later.”   The clouds were already coming in from far off.   Florida could be counted on for rain every day in the afternoon during this time of year.   “Peter, show Bodo the bleach and the cooking water so he doesn’t accidentally drink those.”
    “Okay.”
    My water catcher was nothing sophisticated.   I just took the plastic square and hooked two corners to two sticks stuck in the ground, using clips that my dad had given me from his desk - binder clips - and