The Middle of Somewhere Read Online Free Page A

camera?”
    The man ignored her and she regarded him with concern. She couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t taken off his sunglasses, nor could she fathom why anyone who seemed so unhappy about roughing it would be backpacking alone. Dante, at least, had a reason for being here, even if he had no clue what he was getting himself into. She had tried to warn him, but when he began to take her warnings as evidence for her lack of feelings for him, she backed off. But this stranger was another story. Why would he put himself through this? Did he lose a bet?
    The man kicked his pack several times, shouting, “I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna kill him!” with each kick. Spent, he staggered in a small circle, tripped on a rock and came down hard on his hip. “Goddamn fucking rocks everywhere!”
    Dante jumped up to help him but realized he was barefoot and sat again. He didn’t do barefoot. “Are you okay?”
    The man had lost his sunglasses in the self-induced fray and was searching for them on his hands and knees.
    â€œAre you visually impaired?” Liz asked, thinking the impairment was more likely mental.
    For some reason, this question calmed him. He looked straight at her.
    â€œOh!” She pointed at him and couldn’t help jumping up and down in excitement. “You’re that guy!” She turned to catch Dante’s eye so he could verify her I.D., but he was digging in his backpack. “Dante!”
    He didn’t look up. “What? I’m trying to find my camp shoes.”
    â€œIt’s that guy! The one in the movie!”
    â€œOh, here they are.” He bent to strap on the shoes. “My feet are killing me. What movie?”
    Liz continued to point at the man, so when Dante finally finished with his shoes, he’d know whom to look at. The man sat on a rock in the
Thinker
pose and rubbed his hip with his free hand. He seemed to be reminding himself to refrain from betting on a day never getting worse.
    â€œThe movie we saw last week. He played the dumb cop.” She shrugged at the man in apology.
    He raised his hand. No offense taken. “Matthew Brensen,” he said. “Just to end the suspense.”
    â€œThat’s right!” she said, then caught herself. “Of course, you would know that.”
    â€œI would.”
    Dante walked over, introduced himself and Liz, and shook Matthew Brensen’s hand. The actor was not a big star—he’d never win an Oscar—but was famous enough that his embarrassing moments had a better than even chance of ending up on
Entertainment Tonight
.
    Brensen said, “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing out here?”
    â€œHaving a bad day?” Liz offered. The excitement of a celebrity sighting was wearing off. She was tired and wanted to eat dinner before it got any darker and colder.
    He nodded sadly. “I let my fucking agent sign me up for a lead in a goddamn backpacking movie. Smart, right? But, okay, I go with it. Expand my scope and all that horseshit. Then the director says I need to find out what it’s like.” The anger flared in his voice again. He spread his arms wide. “So here I fucking am. And you know what it’s like? It fucking bites!”
    Dante nodded sympathetically. Brensen pulled out his phone, and cursed when he couldn’t get a signal. Over their heads the sky was chambray blue, fading to pale pink at the horizon. The setting sun cast an amber glow on the distant peaks. A handful of deer had gathered in the meadow, heads low.
    â€œTell you what,” she said to Brensen. “Dante’s about to have a cold bath in a saucepan. You’re more than welcome to join him.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    The next morning, as soon as she judged it light enough, Liz crept out of the tent, leaving Dante dead to the world. Their body heat had warmed the interior; leaving it was like walking into a