Are you sure you can make it?

They stood a foot away from the perforated metal fence encompassing his backyard. It was a barrier between his yard and the moist dirt hill angling harshly to the local park, where they once caught salamanders for their science class. He thought about them crouched over the eggplant colored amphibian, the smell of her hair intoxicating him, so that he heard nothing except for the ringing in his ears. She tossed her hair behind her back, so long it brushed the soil at their feet, some brown earth clinging to the wheat coloured ends. She hadn’t noticed the streak of dirt she left on her cheek when she pushed the rest of her hair behind her ear, too intrigued by this wet creature in her palm. He reached towards her, thankful for this chance to touch her face. He rubbed it off with his thumb, the invisible blonde hairs of her face soft velveteen against his finger tip.

He heard the hallow sound of the metal fence against the poles that were forever locked against it. He looked up and she was already at the peak, her legs straddling either side of the fence, the area between her legs resting between the clipped wire ends.

Coming? Or what?

She threw her head back and laughed, this time her hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck.

Might need some help up here.

He pulled himself up with his arms, not able to use the diamond holes for his feet like she did, his boots too wide to fit. He only had a second for the rubber tip of his shoes to grip the edge before having to pull himself up again. He knew she was watching him, glad that he’d done this so many times before, liked the way he climbed expertly, taking him less than a minute to get to her.

She wasn’t quite sure how to maneuver herself to the other side of the fence.

You go first.

She said this as though challenging him, not wanting to admit she didn’t know what to do next.

Here, spread your left arm further away from you — he did this with his own arm — and angle your left toe into one of the holes in the fence, your feet fit. Hold on tight and then swing your right leg around. He swung his over the top and began climbing down.

He was already at the bottom of the fence when he looked up at her looking at the sky, her head thrown back the way she had when she laughed but this time just staring at the tangerine-hued clouds of the sunset.

Who’s taking their sweet time now, huh?

She looked down at him and began her descent, only slipping once at the bottom, the earth loose under her sole, mud now caked on her naked knees.

You okay?

Yeah, obviously, fine.

She wiped the mud from her knees with her palms and then her palms onto the back pockets of her cutoff levis.

They started down the hill, grabbing onto the large pine trunks for support. They didn’t speak the entire way, each just concentrated on their own limbs in an attempt not to go tumbling forward into the swamp. They kept moving further apart, the trees determining their path.

This way.

He started walking west, to the same rock they had found the salamander under the last time they were here two summers ago.

He waited for her to catch up.

Want some?

She pushed a can of coke in his direction, the cold air escaping through drops of perspiration on the outside of the can.

He took it from her.

Thanks.

He took a careful sip, a few bubbles still escaping into his nose. He gave it back to her and took off his backpack, hooking his arms through the straps so it was now on his chest. He unzipped the bag and took out a pack of Marlboros, a lighter and a bottle of water, the frozen water tapping against the inside of the plastic bottle.

It was hot, not one of the hottest days that summer but the recent rain made it unbearably humid. He lit a cigarette putting the Marlboros back into the bag before taking his first drag, one eye squinting against the cloud of smoke. He swung the backpack onto his back, shifting a little to get it into the right position. He took a drag and passed it to her.

Think we’ll find him again?

Yeah, maybe our little purple man’s had babies.

She spoke through the smoke escaping her mouth.

You think he found a purple wife?

Stop being ridiculous. He was the only purple salamander in the world, their babies’ll be brown. Maybe one of them'll be purple if he's lucky.

They both laughed at their conversation. She glanced over at him but he was staring down at his feet.

They finally got to the large rock where they last found him and climbed on top. The surface was still wet but as they sat down he could feel the moisture lifting, the sun sucking it back up into the sky.

She gave him the cigarette and lay down, her spine curving around the rock, her neck hanging over the edge, her knees saluting the sky, the mud now dry in cracked streams along her legs.

He leaned back on his elbows, at first looking at the crowd of pine trees and the stubborn rain drops clinging to the bottom row of needles where it was still cool, closest to the earth but soon his attention was drawn to her raised shirt, exposing a perfectly taut stomach. He had never seen this part of her before.

He looked from her stomach to the length of her stretched neck, the sun reflecting off small drops of sweat running to the back of her head. He positioned himself on his side towards her, resting the weight of his head on his hand. He put his index finger on the bottom of her chin, she moved slightly under his touch. He pulled his finger along her chin, down her neck, his fingertip now moist from her sweat and stopped at her collarbone. She opened her eyes and looked in his direction. He brought his finger up to his mouth and licked the moisture away.