Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

up to something.
    “Listen, Peter. I’ve had lessons in sneaking. I can follow you whenever I want to. So maybe it would be better for everyone involved if you just spilled your guts now.”
    Peter smiled. “I’ve seen you try to sneak before … or rather, I should say I’ve heard you try and sneak before. Your threat doesn’t scare me. It amuses me, but it doesn’t scare me.”
    “Shut up. I can too sneak if I really want to.”
    “Uhhh…no you cant.”
    “Bet me.”
    “No thanks. I don’t want to take your money.”
    “I don’t have any money.”
    “Okay, then, I don’t want to take your harmonica.”
    I frowned at him. “It’s not for sale.”
    “If you bet me, it is.”
    I sighed. Peter was impossible to argue with these days. “What’s gotten into you lately, huh? You’re acting all … bossy and stuff.”
    “I was always bossy. You just never noticed.”
    I shook my head. “Nope. Not this bossy.” I shook my finger at him. “But don’t you worry, little camper. I’m gonna find out your big secret and then I’m going to tell the whooooole world. Everyone’s gonna know it.”
    Peter shrugged. “Be my guest.”
    I finished my meal in silence, half listening to the awesome or not so awesome traps Paci and his buddies were planning to set out in the swamp, in the areas between the canoe rental place and here. I was more focused on Peter’s secret life. I couldn’t figure out what was going on with him, but I was going to, as soon as possible. He was full of extra umph and sassiness, and I knew there had to be a reason for it, other than the fact that we’d just gone and kicked some canner butt.
    Now I had two missions. One was to find Bodo. The other was to find out what or who had lit a match under Peter’s butt and set him on fire.
    ***
    It was several days later before I got my chance to sneak up on Peter and the little mystery he had going on. I was lying on my mattress after lunch, preparing to take a nap, the heat making it too uncomfortable to do anything else. I still wasn’t back to one hundred percent with my arm, even though it was healing well and the stitches were ready to be taken out.
    “I’m going to take a nap,” I said, yawning for effect.
    “Good. You need it. I’m just going to straighten up around here for a bit, then maybe I’ll join you.”
    He messed around in the pantry for a while, but the whole time he was in there, I could tell his heart wasn’t into it. Time to trick him into showing his hand.
    My fake snoring campaign worked like a charm. He fell for it -hook, line, and sinker-sneaking off within minutes. I kept it up until I was sure he was far enough away not to hear it anymore, and then I jumped up, pulled my moccasins on in a flash, and headed out to follow him. He was taking the path that led towards the shower.
    I’d been practicing my sneaking all week, learning better which leaves to avoid stepping on and the spots where I was sure to make sounds everyone around me would hear without effort. I wasn’t anywhere near as good as Coli, but I had improved. Maybe instead of sounding like an elephant in the swamp, now I sounded like a gator instead; and I could live with that.
    I couldn’t hear Peter in front of me, so I walked as fast as I could, not worrying about a little extra noise. Eventually, I got to the edge of the trees that ringed the area near the shower. I hated to think I’d wasted all this effort on Peter taking a shower. Not only was that not interesting at all, it made me feel a little too much like a pervert for my liking.
    But as soon as I got to a tree I could hide behind, and stopped focusing so much attention on not making noise, I saw what I’d come for - and it wasn’t just Peter at the shower. It was someone else, too, and everyone was staying clothed.
    Who is that? I squinted my eyes, but couldn’t make him out. It was a guy for sure. Tall and broad-shouldered. But he was in the trees on the other side of the shower and it was too dark in there for me to see details. Dammit. Come out here so I can see you, Mystery Guy. Peter was standing in front of him, and it looked like they were talking. After a few seconds, Peter’s arms started flapping up and down; he was definitely angry. I watched him put his hands on his hips, then cross his arms over his chest a few seconds later. And then, finally, his arms dropped to his sides. His head hung down and the other guy disappeared into the trees.
    Peter was turning