We spend the last remaining moments of daylight stringing beads and old carnival charms forming grotesque creations with one eyed skulls and monster heads. I struggle with the beading thread and the barrel clasps trying to make it just the right length. After several frustrating minutes I am adorned with my magical creation of purple beads. The twang of the mouth harp provides the appropriate serenade. The night slips by as we snuggle on the blanket, trying to reclaim the heat the night has stolen.
Heads rest on legs and stomachs.
Rhett Butler groans under the weight of his companion s head. Into the night we giggle and sing, and listen to stories. Christian pulls a children s book from his pack. It s a Russian folk tale about a peasant s quest to win the heart of a princess. The story grows silly and the voices possessing Christian contort his face.