Clueless Camping - 1. An unexpected holiday

When you're eighteen years old, about to graduate from high school, and have a long summer of relaxation and fun in front of you, the last thing you want is for your whole world to be turned upside down. And you certainly don't want it to happen the way it did to me.

Loud shouting from the hall woke me around midnight, and before I'd worked out the agitated voices belonged to my father and my twin brother, the latter had left the house and slammed the front door behind him. I jumped out of bed and saw Evan get in his car in the drive way. Moments later I heard it start and take off down the road with a roar. What on earth had happened?

Years of experience with my father's temper had taught me not to get involved. I returned to bed, lying with my back to the door and tried to breathe evenly. I could still hear his voice raging with a few pauses where I'm sure my mom endeavored to calm him down.

A few minutes later my door was gently opened and the distinct perfume of my mom revealed she was checking on me as expected. I stayed still and she quickly closed the door and went back down. I could easily imagine how she persuaded him to return to the living room, where he'd pace up and down and rant. I lay awake for some time, expecting my brother to return, but he didn't.

The next thing I knew, it was nine thirty in the morning. My mom woke me up, when she entered my room with a suitcase and began packing my clothes. "Get up, Russell, and go take a shower." She dumped a pile of clean clothes on the bed next to me, and I noticed they were my favorite jeans, a nice shirt and some of my more expensive underwear and socks. "Hurry up, your father had to go to an important meeting at the bank, and we need to be gone, before he gets back." Even as I stared at her in shock, I obeyed.

My mother very rarely exercised her authority but when she did, Kristin, my older sister, Evan, my twin brother, and I never hesitated to do as we were told. Especially if we knew it might prevent one of my father's rages.

When I got back from the bathroom carrying my toothbrush and my shaver, Mom shook her head. "No, put them back. You can buy new stuff when you arrive. I don't want it to be obvious we've left." I looked at my wardrobe and could see she'd left almost half my clothes and augmented them with some of my brother's old stuff.

"Put some of your favorite books in the suitcase and the one you're reading in your backpack, and give me your phone and your credit card. Leave the laptop. Any mementoes you want to bring?" I started to shake my head, but then I went over to the bookshelf and grabbed the thick photo book that documented my first fourteen years as a carefree identical twin. Mom didn't say anything, but tears filled her eyes and she gave me a quick hug. Then she added the books to the suitcase and closed it.

I put on the nice shoes I rarely wore and my mom took my jacket and my backpack, while I lugged the suitcase downstairs. We went directly to the double garage and I noticed Mom had already placed a smaller suitcase in the trunk. I added mine on top and watched as she turned off my iPhone and dumped it in a metal box. Closing the lid she hid it in a thick envelope and stuffed it into an old safe in the back of the garage. She closed the safe again and muttered something about 'not able to track it in there, I hope'. I knew she was thinking of the tracker which both my phone and my laptop had.

"Get in the car, Russell, and don't turn on the sat nav." Again I obeyed without question and Mom backed the car out, closed the garage door with the remote and drove off. Soon we were on the highway and when we were cruising at just above speed limit, she finally seemed to relax. Maybe now I'd get an explanation about the fight and the flight. Including where the hell we were going.

I did or at least partly, and it was worse than I thought. "Your twin brother and your father had a major disagreement last night. I can't tell you what about, but Evan has left for good and won't be coming back."

I stared at her, completely speechless, and out of all the confused questions in my head a stupid one popped out. "But what about our birthday party on Friday?"

Not that I really cared about the huge event which was meant to celebrate Evan and me turning nineteen. It would just be another occasion for people to compare us, and shake their heads sadly (mainly our older relatives) or look at me with scorn or ignore me completely (the younger guests).

But also an opportunity for me to observe Evan as he moved around confidently, charming people, getting admiring glances from girls, joking with the guys. A chance for me to pretend I was him, my handsome successful twin and not a pale, plump, useless imitation.

I hated mirrors, but I loved looking at Evan. His auburn hair was artfully tousled, and his green eyes sparkled from under finely arched brows. He has a classical nose and his beautifully shaped mouth smiled often to show perfect white teeth. Neither of us was tall, but still above average height, and my fit and sports loving twin carried himself in a way to make him seem six foot.

Evan had come home from college for my graduation which was tomorrow, and for the party. Now he'd left, and my mom refused to tell me why. But apparently it was serious enough for us to leave as well. "Mom, why are we running away? And where are we going?"

She shot me a quick look and pointed out the window at the sign saying Miami International Airport. "We're getting on a flight to JFK, and once we're there, I'll go talk to Kristin." That made sense, as my six year older sister had gone to college in New York, and she was still living and working in the City. My father was extremely proud of Kristin doing well in the banking business.

But then my mom spoke the words which really had my whole world falling apart. "You're continuing to Newark and getting on a one-way flight to Denmark, and you're not to contact me or anyone else over here. Stay away from Facebook and no emails or texts or anything. My cousin Jacob will pick you up, when you arrive in Copenhagen and you're to do exactly as he says."

I felt like I was going to throw up. She was packing me off to her relatives in Denmark, and I'm not talking about South Carolina, but fucking Europe!! The one place I’d sworn never to return to. The country where my childhood and happiness had ended almost five years ago.

I wanted to scream and object, but Mom knew exactly how to evoke my compliance. "Russell, your father is furious with Evan and he wants to force him to come back home and well," her face got an icy look I'd never seen before. It scared the hell out of me. "I'm afraid he'll stop at nothing to get his way, and you know that if he threatens you or harms you, Evan will do anything."

Oh yeah, I'd no doubt about that. I'd seen my brother take on bullies almost twice his size and reduce them to a whimpering mess. Amongst my twin's many accomplishments were high level self-defense skills and absolutely no tolerance for people who teased his weaker and younger brother. Only by two minutes at birth but by now the difference felt like the year which separated us in high school. Evan was fiercely protective of me, and I loved him more than anything in the world. If hiding in Denmark would help him, I'd do it. No matter how much I hated the idea.

I knew my father could track me down at some point, because there'd be records of my passenger name and oh damn: "Mom, how will we buy the ticket to Denmark without leaving a trail?" She gave me a grim look and the single word CASH. When she pointed at her handbag on the floor in front of me, I picked it up and opened it. There were two fat envelopes filled with 100 dollar notes and she told me to put one in the neck wallet with my passport and hide it under my shirt. Now I knew why she made me wear a dark blue shirt.

I won't go into details about the nightmare of international flights, but less than 30 hours later I exited the airport terminal in Copenhagen and looked around with bleary and jet lagged eyes. In fact I could hardly remember what my mother's cousin Jacob looked like.

He was actually Kristin's age, because his mom was the youngest sister in a family of seven siblings, of which my grandfather was the oldest. Surprisingly enough he was an only child, since the family was Catholic just as my father's. But I think Jacob's dad was Lutheran or whatever the Danish state religion is.

Anyway, I didn’t have to worry, because a voice called my name and then I was hugged, long and hard. When Jacob finally let me go and stepped back, I got my first look at the tall, blond, blue-eyed Viking, who grinned happily and grabbed my suitcase. Great, another self-confident hunk destined to make me feel ugly, inadequate and painfully shy.

I wanted to sulk or cry, but I bit my lip and followed docilely as my Danish host led me to the end of the terminal building. I had plenty of experience with concealing my feelings.

We got on the Metro train and I looked out at the landscape until the train plunged underground. It was the second week of May and spring seemed to be in the early stages this far north. Most of the flushed trees were pale green and many were still naked. We only rode a few stops, maybe ten minutes, and got off at Christianshavn station.

Jacob explained that he had a small apartment in the area and I nodded without speaking. He seemed to get I wasn't feeling sociable and mostly left me alone. Though I did catch him studying me intently a couple of times, and he asked me twice how I was feeling. I kept my replies to monosyllables like tired and OK.

In his apartment he told me to take a shower and crash out on his bed after I declined eating anything. "I'll wake you up in four or five hours and we can have a meal and talk." Zombie-like I obeyed, collecting my wits enough to get a clean pair of briefs and a T-shirt from my suitcase before going into the bathroom.

The hot water felt wonderful and I enjoyed the soaking for a while before using the body wash on the small shower shelf. Drying off I dressed and stumbled back into the bedroom. Jacob had a huge double bed with two duvets and I snuggled under one of them and let sleep claim me.

I was woken from a nightmare involving me running through a dark forest with a monster behind me bellowing in my father's deep tones and a shadow beside me imploring me to get away. I wasn't sure whether it had Evan's or Mom’s voice.

"Russell, wake up. Wake up man, you're having a bad dream." Jacob's calm tenor and the warm hand on my shoulder extracted me from the terror of my dream and I rolled over on my back and squinted at him. His blue eyes held more compassion and caring than I was used to seeing from any male except my twin. When his hand moved up to push my long hair away from my face, I felt as if I'd been granted another protective brother.

A much older, mature and somewhat domineering brother, as it turned out, but I didn't mind. Having someone else take charge and make decisions for me was almost a relief, even if I actually resented most of the choices he made. Because the talk we had while eating was more Jacob telling me about the plans he'd made for the summer.

We were going to tour around Denmark with backpacks and a tent, and we'd mainly be hiking or cycling or canoeing. I wanted to tell him he had the wrong twin. Evan would've loved the idea, but I hated being outdoors and doing physical stuff. I preferred sitting in a comfy chair with a book or my laptop.

However, Jacob's reasons were irrefutable. "We need to be away from cities and larger towns, and not even my mum knows my plan. We can't stay in hotels where they want ID, though if the weather is bad, we can probably get away with using hostels or smaller inns where they're less fussy. I'll call home occasionally to find out what's going on, and hopefully we can come back after a few weeks. Unless you want to continue our holiday in the Danish countryside."

The big grin came out again, and I couldn't help giving Jacob a small smile back. He was so exuberant and enthusiastic it was hard to stay morose. Though why he felt happy about dragging an unfit, chubby, and reluctant cousin around remained a mystery to me.

In addition, I wasn't convinced all of this cloak-and-dagger stuff was necessary. I'd thought about it during the ten hour flight and by now my mom’s reaction seemed excessive. I'd gone along with the trip to Denmark to placate her, and maybe it was wise for me to be out of my father's immediate reach. But why did we have to hide in the jungle? Okay, not that Denmark had anything resembling remote wild areas, one of the other Scandinavian countries would probably be better in that respect. Anyway, what could my father do if he found me? I was a legal adult and he couldn't drag me home, could he? Hmm, better not put that to the test.

I was still tired, so I went back to bed around eleven at night and promptly fell asleep. I woke the next morning feeling a lot better, even if I was momentarily confused by my surroundings. The curtains on the window were not quite closed and I could see the sun was shining. Muted sounds of traffic and someone snoring softly reached my ears.

There was an intriguing scent, which... Shit. I turned over to face the middle of the bed, and there next to me was Jacob, fast asleep. I don't know whether to blame my jetlag or the confusing events leading to me being here, but I honestly hadn’t thought about the fact we'd be sharing his bed.

I told myself not to worry about it, why should I? After all, Jacob seemed to think it was no big deal, as he hadn't even commented on it. And I'd shared a bed with Evan now and then, when we visited relatives who were short on space. Also, Jacob and I would soon be sleeping together in a small tent, and being under separate duvets was almost as private as sleeping bags.

Yet, somehow it was different, and I tried to work out why. Was it because Jacob had kicked off his cover to reveal he slept in nothing but boxer briefs? Or was it the fact he was virtually a stranger and I was studying him while he slept?

Jacob was certainly worth a second glance, and I bet he had girls drooling over him all the time. Hmm, wonder if there was a girlfriend and how she'd feel about him going off for several weeks with a stupid son-of-a-cousin from Florida?

His body was muscular and tanned, with a profusion of blond chest hair and a thin trail leading from his navel and into his underwear. Which by the way was tenting in a most impressive manner, and I found myself wondering if Jacob was uncut like Evan and me. Suddenly I realized I was ogling my cousin's morning wood and I blushed with shame. Turning my back quickly I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my own erection too.

For some reason the memory of one of the few good father-and-son conversations I'd had, came to mind. When Evan and I were seven and facing the school year where we'd start having PE and maybe doing sports with communal showers, our father sat down and prepared us for the questions and teasing we might face.

"In America a lot of boys are circumcised. That means you remove the foreskin of the penis, which is the fancy word for your willies. In fact I'm cut, but you two aren't. Your mother considers the custom barbaric and she made me promise if we ever had sons, I'd let you keep your natural equipment."

Evan and I had glanced at each other, and I knew we were both pleased. Not just to know why we were different, but that our mother had stood up to my father. I guess we'd thought it was impossible.

"In fact she was so adamant it was put into our marriage agreement as a legitimate reason for divorce. So I want you boys to know that any annoying attention you suffer from this is completely her fault. Anyway, you should just tell anyone who dares to comment that the way you look is how God made you." He sneered, "And they are the unnatural ones, especially since they go around looking at other boys' intimate parts." Evan and I nodded and to my father that was the end of the matter.

Thankfully, comments were few and far between, and Evan fielded most of them with a joke. By the time we were teenagers no one seemed to care, though I don't know how Evan dealt with the problem in high school. I was exempt from PE and sports due to my health problems, so I never had to face the gauntlet of communal showers in my late teens. Maybe the fact we went to rather strict Catholic schools also helped. Luckily it wasn't a boys only once we got to high school, so the attention of my class mates were probably more on girls and their attributes rather than minor differences in male equipment.

I liked having girls in the school too, even if I realized none of them would be interested in me. Their presence created a different dynamic in class, and though some of them were rather bitchy, they usually treated me well. Not because they liked me, but they sure did care about what Evan thought of them. And once my twin had proven a few times what he would do if anyone, male or female, bothered me, they got the message.

Or maybe it was the fact that the first girl, who was nice to me and eventually became my friend, got invited to the Junior Prom as Evan's date, much to the consternation and envy of the girls in his own year. By the end of my junior year and Evan's senior year, Charlotte and I were good enough friends that we went to our Junior Prom together.

I told her if she got invited by anyone else, I'd be fine with pretending to go on my own and then just get 'sick' on the actual night. She told me not to be stupid, and she preferred me to the other guys in our year. "You're a proper gentleman, Russell. Always kind and attentive and you never try to take advantage of me." Her compliments made me proud, but indeed I'd never gone beyond a chaste kiss on her cheek and the occasional hug if one of us felt sad (mostly me). But then after all she wasn't my girlfriend.

Though from what she confided in me, other guys didn't let that stop them, if opportunity arose. Not that there was too much possibility of something bad happening, as our school dances and other events were heavily chaperoned. And like me Charlotte didn't go on dates outside school, mostly because her parents were even stricter Catholics than mine.

When I asked her if she minded not being able to have a boyfriend she laughed. "I'm not falling into the trap of getting married young and having a horde of kids. I'm going to law school and afterwards I'll work in my dad's firm. Maybe when I'm around thirty, I'll start looking for a husband."

I had no doubt she'd achieve her goals; Charlotte Nichols was a firm-minded person. Not like me, but maybe we got along so well, because I didn't mind her bossing me around. On the other hand she had a lot of tact, so she never tried to bug me about exercising or dressing nicer or being more outgoing. Things I had to endure from relatives and other 'friends'.

Charlotte and I also went to our Senior Prom together, and I think that's one of the few times my father had a compliment for me. As I left, he actually patted my shoulder and gave me his tight-lipped smile. "I'm glad to see that you're better at choosing a proper girl than your twin, and more constant too. I approve of Ms. Nichols, and you're very lucky to be dating her." I didn’t bother to correct the misunderstanding.

Having distracted myself sufficiently with thoughts of Charlotte and other things, I slipped out of the bed and went for a pee in the bathroom. When I got back, Jacob was awake. To my relief he was sitting up with the duvet around his hips, and when he mentioned breakfast, the rumble from my stomach made us both laugh, thus dispelling any leftover awkwardness.

Having eaten he dragged me to the Metro to go shopping for hiking boots, a backpack, a sleeping bag, and other stuff for our trip. Home again he helped me pack and did his own packing, because we were setting off in the afternoon.

When I hoisted the backpack on my shoulders, I thought I'd fall down, it was so heavy. But I couldn't complain, because Jacob had our tent, cooking gear and field rations on top of his own stuff. We took a bus to the Central Station and caught a train to Jutland, the part of Denmark attached to mainland Europe.

I forget where we got off after changing to a local train. Jacob had booked a room for us in a small inn not too far from the station. 'Not far' meaning almost three miles and more than an hour’s walk! The room was probably not in Jacob's name, but I didn't care. It had twin beds and after eating a meal at the inn, I was more than ready to crash. Jacob let me go up to the room before him, so I could take a shower and be in bed, before he turned in.

Next morning we set off into the countryside. Apparently Jacob had decided to start me out gently, because we walked to a place where we could rent a canoe. On the other hand he wanted us to paddle over several lakes, which meant work, even if we were going downstream. Jacob said the lakes were part of a waterway called Gudenåen, a name meaning creek-dedicated-to-the-gods. In spite of the epithet Å, which is a weird Danish letter and a word for stream or creek, this was actually the longest river of Denmark. I was relieved when he told me we wouldn't paddle the whole length.

That day only across three lakes, and we'd take a break at Himmelbjerget, which could mean Skymountain or Heaven Mountain. Strange, I didn't think Denmark had any mountains. Being in the front of the canoe I missed the twinkle in Jacob's eyes when he translated the name.

After a bit of instruction I found paddling relatively easy. Jacob steered thus all I had to do was add speed. The weather was partly cloudy, so it wasn't too hot, and the quiet surroundings and rhythmic stokes made an almost hypnotic calm descend on me. Convenient because the third lake, Julsø, was fucking huge and took forever to navigate.

I kept looking out for something even vaguely resembling a mountain or just a high hill. Nope, nothing but some forest covered slopes. So I was surprised when Jacob steered us to a landing on the south side of the lake and announced we were at the bottom of Himmelbjerget. This time I caught the smirk on his face. However, once he'd made me climb all the way to the top including up the small tower, I conceded it was a steep hill. One of the highest points in the country and the view over the lakes was indeed breathtaking. So I guess this was the closest you could get to the sky (or heaven) on your own legs here in Denmark.

We ate lunch at the picnic grounds, sandwiches we'd made at the inn and drinks purchased at the small kiosk. We had fun laughing about the silly souvenirs, but Jacob actually bought me a patch for my backpack. "Happy Birthday, Russell. We'll attach it tonight. I'm buying one every place we visit, then you'll have a memory of this holiday." Of course he also took pictures with his small digital camera, but the little cloth patches would be tangible reminders.

Jacob was such a considerate guy. I felt I could really get to like him, even if he did make me spend time outside. The break from the paddling was welcome too, and meant I could continue without too much grumbling about the length of Julsø.

So we made it to Jacob's chosen camping spot fairly early in the afternoon. Good thing too, because setting up the tent and cooking a meal on camping gear took us a while. Mostly because I didn't have a clue, but Jacob seemed to have endless patience with my clumsy efforts.

He insisted we take a walk in the forest before starting dinner. "Come on Russell, the beech wood is at its best right now. Just flushed and with all the white anemones on the forest floor." I had to admit the sheer light green foliage was vibrant in a way I'd never seen before. As we walked along the path following the lake edge Jacob kept chatting.

"These trees probably flushed in the past day or two, because the anemones are still in full bloom. They're adapted to flowering before the bud break of beech, so they can take advantage of the sun light. Actually most of the plants in beech forests are early spring flowers or very shade tolerant. That's because once the canopy closes, hardly any light reaches the forest floor. Not like oak forests, they have a lot of undergrowth." He suddenly looked at me. "Am I boring you? Just tell me to shut up, if you get fed up with the lecture."

I smiled, because it was actually pretty cool to have him rambling on. It saved me from having to come up with intelligent conversation. "No, it's fine, but how come you know so much about trees and stuff?"

Jacob seemed baffled. "My dad's a forester, I thought you knew that?" I shook my head, but didn't want to tell him I'd forgotten most of my previous stay in Denmark. Partly on purpose as I tried to suppress any reminder of the awful time that followed.

I was pleased when Jacob shrugged and went on with explaining that Danes loved beech forests in spring. "We have a saying 'Håbet er lysegrønt' which means 'The color of hope is light green' and I'm convinced it's because the sight of woods like this fill us with the joy of spring, and renewal of life, and hope for the future."

Looking at the beauty of the forest around us, I could see his point. In any other situation I'd have considered this shade of green as too bright and artificial. But the soft, green leaves moving in the breeze and being caught by the sun were undeniably natural. As we walked on Jacob told me some more things, ending with: "The beech is our national tree, too. Though a lot of people voted for the oak. We even sing about the beech tree in our national anthem."

This time I was almost certain Jacob was pulling my leg. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I sure am; both the first and the last stanza mention the beech tree and the sea as important to Denmark." Before I could reply, Jacob started on the song. It was slightly weird standing in this beech grove on the edge of a lake with a blond Viking singing lustily. I noticed he had a strong tenor, and even if I couldn't understand the words and the melody wasn't particularly catchy, somehow the whole experience sent a shiver down my spine. Afterwards Jacob explained the last stanza said that Denmark would last as long as the blue seas reflected the beech trees on the coast. Like I said: weird, but cute too. And better than Happy Birthday to You, a song I hated.

So, on my 19^th birthday I had more fresh air and physical activity than in the past year put together. By the time we'd washed up after our meal, I was exhausted. Jacob seemed to realize and he got out the thin self-inflatable mattress he'd made me buy. It was only about an inch thick, but seemed fairly comfortable. I brushed my teeth, got in the tent and closed the zip. I stripped down and checked myself for ticks, put on a clean T-shirt and boxers and crawled into my sleeping bag. I was asleep within minutes and never noticed Jacob getting inside the tent with me.

When I woke the next morning, he was already up and preparing breakfast. It seemed to be a sunny day. As I sat up, a groan escaped my lips. I was so sore! My arms were aching from paddling, my legs from walking, and my back from sleeping on the ground. I managed to crawl out of the sleeping bag and put some shorts, socks and sandals on.

As I left the tent and crabbed my way over to the log, where we'd sat for our evening meal, I uttered some more moans. My evil cousin just grinned. "Something wrong, Russell? You feeling a bit worn out?" I glared at him and mumbled something nasty about fucking crazy Danes with stupid plans.

To my surprise Jacob got up and moved behind me. I tensed a bit when his hands landed on my shoulders and he started rubbing them. But the massage felt so good and I guess I was so unused to casual kindness or TLC that I just sort of melted whenever Jacob showed his considerate side.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you too much yesterday, Russell. But we'll stay here for a couple of days, and just relax and only go for short trips." With a final pat on my shoulder he went over to the small camp fire, and soon we were eating hard boiled eggs and rugbrød (rye bread) together with a couple of sausages left over from last night and huge mugs of sweet tea.

Jacob managed to engage me in a chat about which books and movies I liked. To my surprise, he turned out to be another sci-fi fan and he even liked some fantasy books too. Once we started discussing Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, time flew by. When I expressed my astonishment at his interest in these subjects, he laughed. “Don’t let the sporty image fool you, I’m a geek inside. I just didn’t know before I started doing computer science and meet all sorts of interesting people.”

He told me he was almost done with his university degree. All he lacked was writing his master’s thesis. “I’m doing that in the spring semester of next year. I plan to travel around the world this autumn.”

The next few days were calm and unremarkable, but somehow never boring. Jacob always knew interesting things about the nature around us, and he'd point out birds or identify plants and trees I'd never seen before. Or at least didn't remember seeing before.

Whenever thoughts of my last visit popped into my head, I felt the familiar black mood descend on me. But unlike at home, where I could mope for hours, I was soon distracted, either by Jacob's voice or the turn of the river opening up a new view, as we paddled downstream past the town of Silkeborg on the third day.

At one point we went along a patch of trees which looked strange. They were still naked, but unlike some of the other unflushed trees we'd seen, this part of the wood seemed different. Maybe because some of the trees near the river were clearly dead. Two trunks had fallen over, and I spotted a woodpecker busy with digging out something from one of the standing dead trees.

I turned in the canoe to get Jacob's attention and pointed at the forest. "What kind of trees are they? Are they just really late in coming out?"

The expression on my cousin's face was a strange mixture of amusement and regret. Sort of like he knew something funny and the joke was on me. But after a moment he turned serious and actually steered the canoe over to the bank so he could explain.

"They're ash trees, and yes they flush very late in spring just as the oaks do." I nodded, because I remembered how he'd shown me a group of old oaks in the forest on one of our walks. "But the reason they look strange and half dead is because they're sick. My dad told me there's this new disease which is decimating ash trees all over Europe. It's a bit like Dutch Elm Disease, except this fungus doesn't kill the trees directly, unless they're just small plants."

Jacob pointed up in crowns of the ashes. "The ash dieback fungus kills all the young twigs and the trees make new shoots from the older branches or even from the stem. That's why they have all those long shoots standing straight up from the branches."

Now that he'd explained, I could see that the bushy appearance of the tree tops was part of the reason I'd found them strange looking. And I could see some of them had twigs coming out from the trunk, making them look slightly fuzzy. Many of the youngest trees were clearly dead, the bark cracking or falling off.

Jacob scowled at the forest and shook his head. "Most of the Danish foresters are going crazy, trying to cut the ash trees and sell the timber before it loses its value. But this stand is probably a protected ash habitat, so they can't log it. Or maybe it's just too wet and difficult for loggers to handle. Anyway, my dad says ash trees outside the forests also get sick but most of them can probably live for a long time with the disease. There's some biological reason for that, but I'm not sure what it is."

He shrugged and looked at me to see if I was getting bored, but as usual I found the subject fascinating. I may not want to run around outside and do all sorts of physical stuff, but I liked to watch nature programs and read about it.

"I remember reading about this bug which has gotten into ash trees on the east coast. They are spending millions trying to get rid of it. It's called ehm..." I wrinkled my brow trying to recall the name, but all that came to mind was this picture of a bright green insect and the abbreviation EAB. But apparently Jacob knew what I was thinking off.

"You mean Emerald Ash Borer?" At my nod, he scowled again. "Yeah, my dad has talked about it too. Apparently we don't have it in Europe yet, except it's present around Moscow, and the Russians aren't doing enough to eradicate it. So the beetle is making its way west. And of course there's always the risk of having it introduced directly from Asia in spite of the trade regulations and rules that are meant to prevent that."

Jacob looked like he was getting pretty agitated now, and I suddenly realized we'd managed to get into a matter he cared about. He must have guessed from my face I wanted to know more. Which I did, in a way, but actually it was also because I enjoyed watching him get all animated and almost emotional.

In the few days we'd spent together, Jacob had been calm and considerate, but somehow also a bit remote and apprehensive. As if he was waiting for me to either yell at him or take the initiative in talking. Well, Evan might, but even before we began living different lives, I'd never been comfortable with approaching people or starting conversations. I doubt anyone noticed, since my twin and I were a matched set, and he always got me included in the fun. Until I got sick...

All of this was part of the random thoughts popping up in the back of my head as I listened to Jacob ranting about the danger of 'invasive species'. I almost giggled at the first thing which came to mind, the sort of sci-fi alien invaders devastating Earth and killing innocent humans. But I soon realized that humans were the bad guys here.

"You know how people worry about global warming and the consequences like more hurricanes or higher sea levels? Well, the real threats to nature and biodiversity aren't climate changes, but global trade, travel, and too many humans." I looked at him with incomprehension; what did that have to do with the invasion subject? Jacob went on with explaining how most animals, plants, insects and diseases that were invasive got moved from one continent to another because of international trade. Often it was ornamental plants, but also in wood packaging around all kinds of goods.

"There're control measures to prevent this, but implementing them costs money for the production places. We're focused on buying as cheap as possible, and one easy way to be competitive on prices is to cut corners on safety. Usually work place safety but also things like heat treatment of wood or inspection of plants before export." I suddenly remembered a small headline about a factory in China catching fire and lots of workers dying because the emergency exits had been deliberately locked. Scary stuff.

Jacob dug out two cans of coke and some snacks which we shared as he told me stories about invasive species. Mostly how humans had wrecked a lot of damage on nature by introducing plants or animals either deliberately or by accident, without realizing the consequences before it was too late. Some of the examples like the cane toad in Australia had me laughing about the stupidity of man, in spite of the inherent biodiversity disaster which wasn't funny at all.

I noticed that whenever Jacob made me laugh or react strongly to his tales, his face lit up with a grin or he'd look pleased. When we continued down the river, he seemed more relaxed and happy in my company.

It reminded me of my mom's reply from when I'd admitted hating socializing. "Don't worry about not being talkative like Evan. Just ask questions about their interests. People love a good listener." On the occasions when I had to interact with people, e.g. during school trips or projects, the advice certainly helped. I stayed in the background, volunteered to takes notes (which everyone else disliked), paid attention to everybody in the group, and laughed politely at their jokes.

But somehow I didn’t have to pretend with Jacob. His stories were usually fun or informative, he seemed interested the few times I contributed to the conversation, and he never made me feel stupid or weak. Best of all he didn’t pry, and he never shouted at me in anger.

We continued up the river and arrived at the new camping site late in the afternoon. While we were putting up the tent, Jacob told me we were close to the bog where the Grauballe Man was found. "He's in a museum in Aarhus, maybe we'll have a chance to go and see him." He explained more about the find, and I wrinkled my nose, not really sure whether I wanted to see the prehistoric corpse of a human sacrifice. Even if he was considered one of the ‘most exceptionally preserved bog bodies ever recorded’.

But once again Jacob's skills and enthusiasm in telling a story captivated me. He really did go out of his way to try and keep me amused, and I found myself wondering why. Not that I didn't appreciate being distracted from the events that had brought me here. Anything which kept my mind from dwelling on my father's probable anger at me running away, speculating on what Evan had done, or worry about how my mom was dealing with the situation, made me grateful. But none of it made sense.

When we lay in the tent that night I decided to ask him. "Jacob, I appreciate you're doing this, but why?" We had a flash light hanging from the tent pole and I could see his confused face. "I mean I'm sure you've better things to do than take some distant relative camping. Like be with your friends or something."

Somehow his smile was sad, or maybe the shadows cast by the light made me imagine things. "Before your mom called, I was going to work most of the summer, to save up for my trip abroad." He held up his hand to stop me from apologizing. "She's compensating me for the money I'm losing, but this isn't about money. I'd have done it no matter what. Though getting paid to do what I like for a holiday for weeks is cool.”

He gave me one of his quick grins, but immediately turned serious again. “Don't you understand, Russell? I owe you. I'd do anything to make up for what happened last time you were here."

I stared at him, numb with shock, as a couple of tears ran down his face. "What do you mean?"

He frowned and sniffed. "Don't you remember? I was the one who took you and Evan on a hiking trip on Bornholm that summer. I forgot to warn you about the ticks and the risk of TBE. Evan and I dumped our clothes and took a swim in the sea when we got back. But you didn't and when the itching made you notice the two ticks some hours later, it was too late. You were already infected. Fucking hell Russell, you nearly died, and it was entirely my fault!" Jacob buried his face in his hands and cried.

Suddenly, it was like our roles were reversed. The handsome, confident man, who'd been in charge of me, was reduced to a sobbing wreck, haunted by remorse and guilt I didn't even recall. It would be so easy to blame him and hate him for the months I'd spent bedridden and weak. For the lost chance of being with Evan, being like my twin brother in high school, instead of the pale washed-out shadow who emerged from rehab nine months later with a slight limp, a duller wit, and the remains of a heart flutter. I might have done so three years ago, but not now.

The doctors had assured me the aftereffects of my initial TBE and the subsequent complications due to a later infection would eventually go away. The last of my biannual checkups at the start of my senior year confirmed I was back to normal health, but it was too late by then. I was boring, overweight, introverted, unattractive, shy and moody.

I managed to stay out of PE, because my year had already been planned, and not even my father suggested I take up sports. He’d been quite blunt, in fact. “There’s no need to diminish the memory of Evan’s outstanding achievements by trying out for the teams. You don’t have the necessary skills.”

I saw no reason to try to catch up with Evan in other ways either. It would never happen anyway. Before I became ill, we looked the same on the outside and Evan’s unconditional love and support meant I felt confident about my abilities and my personality, even if it wasn’t as captivating as my twin’s. The gap between us hadn’t mattered before, but after almost five years it felt like a huge pit, and I’d judged Evan’s attempts to bridge it as due to compassion and obligation.

I suddenly heard my own voice, distant and cold. "So you're just taking care of me out of pity, then?" Jacob's head jerked up and his gaze was so heated, I recoiled.

"Fuck no, Russell. The summer I spent with you, Evan and Kristin was wonderful. Most of my real cousins are much older, because my mum is twelve years younger than her next sibling with kids. So you guys were like the first cousins I'd ever had, and we had great fun. Until you got sick just a week before you were going home. Right after your dad had come over to join you. I only got to see you in hospital a few times, before they flew you back home."

I suddenly recalled a vague image of Jacob's face hovering next to mine, his voice saying words that escaped my memory. What else had I forgotten? I knew my father left first with Evan and Kristin, who had to go back to school and college. My mom stayed for an extra month, until I was out of my coma and stable enough to endure the ten hour flight home.

Even though we'd been going first class and I'd had a bed, it still set me back. The stress of the trip may have been the reason I got the second infection a week after arrival. In any case none of that was Jacob's fault, and I knew enough about my whole health issue to realize my prolonged journey back to normal was as much a result of the secondary problem as the TBE.

I shared this with Jacob, and it turned out he'd never been told the full story. He still felt guilty about the ticks, and I realized why he'd been so adamant I check myself at night in the privacy of the tent, before getting in the sleeping bag. I was now immune to TBE of course but there're other tick borne diseases. I just thought it was another sign of his caring manner, like the way he insisted on lots of sun screen for my pale skin.

We talked half the night, mostly Jacob reminding me of the fun we’d all had that summer five years ago. When I woke the next morning it was like some deep wound inside me had started to heal.

The next weeks were awesome. We decided to go back to Silkeborg and store the canoe at the camping site, while we went biking. Jacob rented two mountain bikes, helmets and shoes, and taught me now to ride the forest trails. On the third day when I was recuperating from saddle sores (in spite of us having the proper padded trousers), Jacob loaded his bike in the canoe, paddled it to the rental place and rode his bike back. The guy was an amazing specimen of male fitness.

When we tired of cycling, we caught the train west and ended up at the coast. It was an incredible place of endless, wide beaches, huge waves, and open sky. We didn't do any swimming as the North Sea was too rough and cold, but worked our way north to the small fishing town of Klitmøller. Jacob told me it was a wind surfers' paradise, 'the Cold Hawaii of Europe'.

Once again I suspected he was having me on, but no. When we arrived, there were loads of surfers enjoying the waves and the perfect wind conditions. Jacob didn't try to persuade me to do any wind surfing. I was more than content to sit and watch him battle the rough nature of Vesterhavet, which is the Danish name for this sea.

Naturally, he looked great in a wet suit and impressive on a board. He wasn’t as good as the professional guys, and we both admired them for the stunts they could do. But even if Jacob just did simple stuff, I still thought he looked like a surfer god.

I noticed several girls seemed to agree with me. On occasion they’d try and chat with him, but somehow the flirting ended fairly quickly. One or two of them gave me an annoyed look, when Jacob left them and made his way back to where I was sitting. I wondered why, after all it wasn’t my fault they were disappointed with their lack of success. I’d told Jacob if he wanted to hook up with a girl, he should just do so. “I’ll stay away from the tent for an hour or so, if you like.”

My cousin just shook his head. “That’s really sweet of you Russell, but I’m not interested in casual sex right now. Nor do I want a girlfriend. In fact starting up any sort of relationship would be rather difficult, since we’re supposed to keep on the move. And when the summer is over, I’m going travelling, remember?”

I had to admit I was relieved Jacob seemed genuinely disinterested in spending time with those girls. It would’ve been too much like having to watch Evan being charming and getting lots of attention.

“But you know what Russell? Some of them might be more interested in you than in me.” I laughed at his joke and told him to stop pulling my leg. His expression was weird for a moment; then the conversation moved onto something else.

One day he rented a kite and we had fun flying it for hours. We bought fish from the local boats and cooked them in the outdoor kitchen of the camping site. We hitched a ride to the nearest town with another surfer and I bought some more clothes, as my shorts were falling apart.

I think Jacob called home during that day, but he didn't say anything to me. He just disappeared for half an hour and came back with a closed face. For some reason I ignored it, I'd no desire to think about my life back in Florida. It suited me fine to be removed from the expectations and the endless comparisons with Evan, from feeling lonely and useless. Here at least, someone was happy to be in my company.

Every day spent in the wind, sun, and sand reduced the time I'd normally spend brooding and worrying. We continued north, finally reaching the tip of Jutland called Skagen. Famous for the artists P.S. Krøyer, and Michael and Anna Ancher using the special light of summer, sea and sky. We went to the museum and saw some of their paintings and the studios where they worked. I’d never been a fan of art museums, and Jacob admitted he wasn’t either. “But you can’t go to Skagen and not see some of these paintings. After all they are world famous and actually quite pretty too.” After strolling through the museum I had to admit he was right.

We spent half a day at the migrating coastal dune, Råbjerg Mile, running up and down the white sandy slopes, laughing and shouting like little kids. We tackled each other, rolling down the soft hills, and wrestled for fun. Jacob was much stronger than me, of course, but he was also ticklish. Once I realized that, it evened out the odds nicely.

We climbed to the top of the highest dune and enjoyed the view. It was awesome to see the forces of nature in play, especially knowing that most of the surrounding areas had been plagued by similar sand drift for two centuries, until the gradual planting of dune grasses and pines helped stabilize the land.

After staying at the top of Denmark for five days we went south to catch the ferry from Frederikshavn to Læsø. The weather forecast promised sun and high temperatures, though as an inhabitant of Florida, I considered the expected 27 C (80 F) merely clement rather than hot for July.

But it was at Læsø, my life was once again turned upside down, and it might not have happened if the tent wasn't so hot at night. But it was and even if we left the door unzipped and tied back, it was still warm and confined so we slept on top of the bags.

Thus I woke a couple of times to the sight of Jacob's impressive morning wood tenting his boxers. The third day we woke almost simultaneously and he spotted his erection the instant I did. Luckily for me I always sleep on my stomach, so he couldn't see I had a boner too. He grunted and turned his back and moments later he got up and went for a morning pee, which solved the problem I guess.

However that night Jacob took a walk on his own just before we went to sleep and the next morning he was flaccid. Unlike me who again had to deal with the morning irritation. So when he pulled the same stunt the next evening, I decided to follow him.

I'd no idea why I wanted to spy on him; it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Sort of like a curious silly puppy insisting on sticking his nose into a bee hive. There was a full moon so it was quite easy. He didn't go very far either, just a couple of dunes away to a dip between two large sand hills. We weren't at an official camping site; there was no one else around.

I crouched at the side of one dune and peeked, and boy did I get an eyeful. Jacob stripped naked and at first I was treated to the sight of his muscular ass which together with his strong back and wide shoulders almost took my breath away. He slowly turned and his erect manhood came into view in the revealing moon light.

His face stayed towards the water, but his body had its left side to me. I could see the moment he grabbed his long, thick and yes uncut cock and began stroking. His other hand roamed over his torso, playing with his nipples and his balls, as he gradually worked himself to an impressive climax.

He was so beautiful in the moonlight, like a young Norse warrior spilling his seed on the sand as a sacrifice to the fertility goddess Freyja. It wasn't until Jacob cried out and I saw the result of his orgasm I realized I had my fingers wrapped around my own rigid member. At the sight of my protector's ecstasy my dick convulsed and I came in my underwear. It was my best orgasm ever.

I don't know how I managed not to cry out or to flee in panic without Jacob spotting me. I got back to the tent, grabbed a water bottle and cleaned myself in record time. I donned a new pair of briefs and dove into the sleeping bag, spending several long minutes trying to still my heart.

I was utterly embarrassed and confused. How could I spy on a private moment like that? And even worse: masturbate at the same time! Yet when Jacob took off the next night, I couldn't resist and snuck after him.

He went to the same place, stood naked in the moon light, and I drank in the vision of this godlike creature. Spellbound and aroused until an amused voice broke the silence. "Are you enjoying the view, Russell? Why don't you come down and join me?" SHIT. I guess it was an excellent test of my doctor's claim that my health was fine, or else I might've had a heart attack right then.

There was no point in fleeing, I was so busted and would have to face the consequences. I got to my feet and shuffled down the side of the dune, trying to keep my eyes on the ground. However this meant I got a close up of Jacob's hard-on as I came near. I stopped and shut my eyes. I held my hands in front of my crotch in a vain effort to hide my own arousal, which somehow refused to go away in spite of my embarrassment.

I heard a small sigh and the sound of cloth against skin. I shivered in the cool night breeze from the sea. A large warm body arrived directly in front of me and another kind of shiver ran up my spine. I could smell the distinct scent of my cousin, a mixture of his deodorant, salt, sweat, and a musk which had my dick twitching in my underwear.

A soft touch on my cheek made me look up at Jacob. His eyes were bright in the moonlight and I swallowed at the compassion on his face. "Come on Russell, let's go back to the tent and talk."

Such ominous words if not for the fact of Jacob enclosing my cold fingers in his large warm hand. He gently led me back to the small canvas shelter that had been my home for almost two months. A glorious bubble of time and space which might end now. I wanted to cry but bit my lip to keep some semblance of calm.

At the tent Jacob made me wait outside while he got my mattress and both sleeping bags. He put the mattress on the sand next to the old withered piece of driftwood that had served us as table and bench for the past few days. Unzipping his sleeping bag he draped it as a blanket over both and motioned me to sit down and hold it in place. Making a similar blanket out of my bag he sat next to me and spread it over our legs. When he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, I broke.

Flinging my arms around his neck I sobbed into his shoulder, trying to apologize and explain, venting all my fears of having ruined everything. A small chuckle from Jacob brought me to my senses. Well maybe his warm hands caressing my back and my hair helped too.

"It's time for us to be honest with each other, Russell. I was delighted to have you watch me yesterday. I'd almost given up on you." What? I was even more confused now.

"You're so innocent and clueless, and it's very cute and attractive, but also frustrating. I couldn't believe it when your mum said you'd no idea about Evan's issues with your dad."

I tried to pull away from Jacob, but he held on. And it was so nice to cuddle in his warm embrace and listen to his heartbeat and his mellow tenor. "But I soon realized she was right and you had no clue, not even about yourself. Do you know why you like looking at my naked body, Russell?"

I shook my head against his chest, even if the truth was slowly dawning. Jacob was careful, like someone coaxing a scared kitten out of a dark place.

"Do you remember telling me about Charlotte? I asked if she was your girlfriend and you said no. Then you asked if I had a girlfriend." I remembered Jacob had gazed at me with a pained look for a second or two after saying no. At the time I assumed he'd had a bad break-up so I changed the subject.

"I so wanted to tell you it would've been a boyfriend in any case. But you weren't ready for that piece of info at the time."

My whole body jerked at the word boyfriend and this huge blinding light went on inside my head. Fuck that meant Jacob was... and the reason why Evan fought with... and it wasn't just the girls who ignored me, I... I was such an idiot, so blind and dumb.

But what did it matter anyway; no one wanted an ugly, fat, boring jerk like me. Certainly not the handsome man next to me; Jacob, my sort of cousin whose scent filled my nostrils, making me want to taste the warm skin of his tanned neck. Jacob, the companion I’d admired and trusted and liked more and more every day.

Jacob, my protective Viking who cradled me in his strong arms, soothing me with soft kisses on my hair and whispering my name over and over. "Russell, shush now, Russell my sweet, shshh, Russell, don't be upset, please. Russell, oh Russell can't you see?"

Oh yes right there in the moonlight shining on the dunes and the sea I finally came to my senses and had my world shift one last time. I was in love with Jacob. I loved a man. And I wanted that man to make love to me. My whole body yearned to have his mouth and hands touch it, and most forbidden of all: I ached for him to take me, penetrate me and claim me as his.

So that's exactly what I begged him to do. Not with so many words, but I lifted my face to his and sought out his lips with mine. Our first fumbling kiss, so sweet and unexpected, was followed by more as Jacob ravished my mouth and taught me how to give intimate delight with our tongues as well as soft tender kissing.

He pulled me into his lap and the hard length of his manhood left me in no doubt about his desire for me. His hands and mouth started to explore my body, and suddenly my insecurity and self-hate reared their ugly faces and I stiffened.

Jacob stopped immediately and looked at me. "Russell, what's wrong, sweetheart? Am I going too fast? We're not going to do anything you don't want to, I promise." I saw the look in his eyes but I still refused to believe he could really love me or want me. And even if he did, it would only last until he met Evan, the much more attractive version of me.

"Russell, you're getting that look on your face again. Something is hurting you or bothering you. Please tell me." He took my hand and kissed my palm, his eyes never leaving mine, and I knew I couldn't lie.

"I'm in love with you, Jacob, and I want to be with you. But, but why would you want to be with me? You're so handsome and charming and kind, you could have anyone. Why should you want to be with a fat, ugly, stupid boy like me?"

At my first words Jacob's whole face lit up with a huge grin, but as I continued his jaw dropped and he stared at me in confusion. There was a second or two of silence, an eternity of agony. He began laughing and I wanted to smack him.

But he prevented it by pulling me into another flurry of hot kisses intermingled with the most wonderful words I'd ever heard. "I love you, Russell. I've been in love with you for days. Ever since that afternoon at Skagen when you stood on Grenen with one leg in each sea and smiled at me like you were happy to be at the top of the world with me. I love you and I want you so much, I can hardly control myself."

Another laugh. "Silly boy, why do you cling to your old self-image? Haven't you looked at yourself these past weeks? Noticed how your clothes are getting loose? How girls and guys stare at you with desire? So interested I want to yell at them to back off, because you're mine. MINE." He claimed my mouth once more and I gave in.

Thus right there under the moonlit sky Jacob taught me what it means to love another man. He kissed me and undressed me and worshiped me with fingers and lips and tongue as I lay naked on the mattress. He knelt on the sand next to me and took my manhood in his mouth until I screamed my ecstasy for the whole island to hear.

As I had done the night before, Jacob relished the spectacle before him. He spilled his seed when I came; another offer to the Norse goddess of love sprayed on the sand while he drank my juices to the last drop. And I knew it was truly the start of more fabulous summer days and nights exploring the natural delights of love.