Dreaming in Color by Cameron Dane (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

“Oh, wow.”

Colin stared, mesmerized and enchanted by the view before him.

Halfway up Marek's mountain, Colin stood at the edge of a small pool of clear water, perhaps only twenty-five or thirty feet in diameter. Colin could see the dark, rocky bottom but didn't fool himself into thinking that meant the spring was shallow. He took all that in on a cursory scale…for the moment. Right now, though, Colin could not take his eyes off the waterfall across the span of the pool. Rushing down from a ledge some twenty feet above, the small fall only looked to have a three- or four-foot width, but it didn't matter. The smooth arc of water running into the spring was framed by lush green foliage, and red, yellow, and orange flowers of various varieties, making it a center point of something incredible.

Marek leaned in and nudged Colin's shoulder. “Like it?”

“Are you kidding?” Colin asked incredulously. He could not stop staring at the striking testament of Mother Nature and time, as well as the rest of the amazing surroundings. Colin hadn't thought anything could be as gorgeous as Marek's beach and ocean view. He was wrong. “This is beautiful.”

“You're not too tired or sore?” Marek slid in behind Colin, wrapped his arms around his stomach, undid the backpack waist strap, and slid the pack off his shoulders. “I noticed last night you have some additional scarring on your hip. It's a strenuous hike up the side of this mountain for someone who hasn't done it before.”

“It's from the attack.” That must have been why Marek kissed his hip so tenderly last night. In the heat of Marek finally touching him, Colin hadn't even thought about it. He lived in this body every day; he was used to it. “If I end up sore, I'll recover,” he promised. He bent his right knee off the ground and rotated it from the front to the side and back. His flexor tightened some already, and he knew he'd need some pain relievers tonight before bed. “This is worth a sore hip. Thank you for bringing me.”

“No problem. I had a feeling you would appreciate it.” Marek unbuckled his bag and let it fall to the fern-covered ground next to the one he had given Colin to use. He stood shoulder to shoulder, hands in his front pockets. “It's a temporary fall, or what people sometimes call an ephemeral waterfall. It comes with the rain, and depending on how long it storms, it can last for as little as a few hours or up to a few weeks. I've seen it run off for ten days straight at the most so far, but only once. Usually it's a morning or afternoon to a few days.”

“It's like a perfect tourist postcard snapshot. I've never seen anything like it in my life.” Colin dragged his attention off the scenery long enough to send Marek a wry, sidelong glance. “And it's almost all yours.”

“Almost.” Marek dug his hands deeper into his pockets, but a proud smile stole the “aw shucks” gesture. “I can count on one hand the number of times I've crossed paths with another of the island's residents while hiking on this mountain. And I'm all over this place a lot.”

“How could you stay away if this was your backyard?” Not to mention that Marek apparently didn't have a nine-to-five job consuming most of his waking hours. He could obviously afford this luxury.

“I don't know if you noticed,” Marek said, drawing Colin's focus back to him, “but there's a shelf behind the fall. Do you want to go behind the water and look from the other side? It's a short but slippery climb to get in there, so just be aware. We can leave the bags here for now.”

Colin stepped back and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Lead the way.”

Following, Colin stayed close on Marek's heels as he circled the pool and came to what looked like an uneven, narrow set of stairs dug into the rocky mountain face.

Marek stopped and turned, facing Colin once again. “It's not far but just take it slow and make sure you can feel a good grip with your boots before you push off to the next step. If you keep your right hand on the rock as you climb, you'll find natural places to hold as you move.” Colin nodded, and Marek added, “I'll go first. Give me at least one free step between us before you start. Okay?”

Colin agreed, and Marek began the brief climb. Watching where Marek placed his feet and how he used the mountain wall to help him, Colin actually gave the man two steps before he started. He moved steadily upward and inward with careful precision, extremely mindful of the traction the soles of Marek's boots gave him; he understood why his running shoes would not have been adequate for this task. Perhaps bare feet, where he could use his toes almost as fingers, would be the only thing that might work as effectively.

With the last steep stair, Colin's legs shook from the tension and concentration, but he stepped onto a rock shelf with a jagged, angled roof cut right into the mountain. Dampness clung to the stone, and the slightest mist from the waterfall constantly floated into the enclosure, lowering the temperature at least ten degrees. The sounds of the water running over the lip above and splashing into the spring below amplified in Colin's ears, blocking out the chirps and squawks of birds and other life beyond. Ahead, Marek stood close to the ledge, his arm stretched out to his side with his fingers grazing the inner plane of the fall.

“Come look and feel.” Marek beckoned with his other hand. “You might think you climbed a good distance up, but really you haven't. It was more in than up. Take a glance over the side at how close we are to the pool below.”

Colin walked to Marek's side with a sensation inside