Every time we visited Ben we brought him something – usually a candy bar or two. During our first meeting at his cabin, Brian started the tradition. We knew Ben didn’t bring in much money except for some social security and a little cash he earned by doing odd jobs in town. Sometimes during our outings he offered us lunch. It seemed natural to share things with friends.

          One Saturday morning on our way to Ben’s cabin, the gang met at Kelley’s store to stock up on snacks. Charlie was late. I pushed several Snickers and Milky Way bars across the counter and plunked down the exact change.

          Mr. Kelley picked up the money and shoved a bag of beef jerky back at me. “Here, Ben not only has a sweet tooth, but he loves jerky too. You’re going out to visit him today, aren’t you?” We nodded. “Don’t you tell Ben, but he really looks forward to your visits. Says it makes him feel young again.”

          At that moment, Charlie opened the door and stepped into the store, carrying her berry bucket with her lunch sack inside. But it wasn’t the same old Charlie. Mr. Kelley noticed the difference right away. “Why, Charlotte Kowalski, you sure do look nice today. You combed out your braids, and your hair’s all sorta curly.”

          Charlie’s cheeks glowed pink. “Thanks, Mr. Kelley. I don’t wear pigtails all the time, you know.”

          Then Brian added, “Gee, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with normal hair. It makes you look like a real girl.”

          “Thanks a lot, Bear . . . I think.”

          Jason and I just stood there staring at her slack-jawed with our mouths half open. She looked attractive, as pretty as any girl going to Carbonado School. Her wavy, strawberry blond hair framed her face with the late morning sun adding a luster to it. From that moment on I started to feel a tingle, a catch in my throat when I saw her. She changed from being just one of the gang and became a friend who also happened to be an eye-catching girl.

          I snapped out of my trance long enough to say, “We already bought the candy bars, and Mr. Kelley sent Ben some beef jerky, too. Time to hit the trail?” We thanked the store owner again for the jerky as we closed the door behind us and headed out the coal route toward The Notch.

          Jason and Charlie led the way. I don’t remember much of the trek that day because I had a difficult time keeping my eyes off her. Besides her flowing hair and her creamy complexion, I noticed other things. The way she walked. She kept up with us easily, but her free and easy, swinging movement made hiking look effortless. Her figure. Charlie’s body was developing curves in all the places that interested guys – at least me.

          When we arrived at the cabin, Ben was starting work on a project. He often maintained how much he missed fresh eggs. “Pickin’ up in the mornin’, crack ‘em, and fry ‘em in the skillet fresh eggs” he called them. Done with talking, the action had begun. He was fixing to build a chicken shed.

          His eyes sparkled when he saw us. “Now, who’s gonna help me build the chickens a home to live in? All of you can’t help. Too many cooks usually end up ruinin’ what they’re cookin’.” He paused for a moment, and his eyes shifted to each of us. “How about you, Jason? And, Brian . . . would you like to help?”

          “Wow!” whooped Bear. “You bet I’d like to help. It sounds like fun. Whadya think, Jason?”

          Jason smiled and nodded his approval.

          Ben glanced at Charlie and me and shrugged. “Sorry, you two, but it looks like Charlotte’s carryin’ her berry bucket. Maybe you could help her, Nathan?”

          “Sure, no problem,” I answered.

          Charlie and I began our climb up the hill toward her secret, native blackberry patch located at the edge of a nearby clear cut. “What do you suppose all that was about?” I threw her a quizzical peek.

          “What do you mean, Nathan?”

          “Well, all that stuff about ‘who’s gonna help me’, and then he picks Jason and Bear.”

          “That’s just Ben’s way of finding teaching time for the two of us that need it the most. Jason’s got a good eye. You can see that with his drawing, but he doesn’t get much experience working with his hands, except in the kitchen. And Brian? Well, he really doesn’t have any men to look up to, outside your father and Ben. Ben’s just trying to teach him some skills.

          “The truth is . . . Ben doesn’t really need any help. He built the cabin all by himself, didn’t he? And he did a great job. In fact, I think he’s an artist.”

          I glanced again at Charlie, wondering what she was getting at as we approached Ben’s water source just beyond view of the cabin.

          “Look here.” She pointed at the spring where a tiny stream of water bubbled between two large rocks out of the hillside. The cool, pure water trickled into a flawless, round basin hand-scooped in the earth and coated with stones. “See how beautifully he lined the catch basin for the spring water. He used all sizes of rocks, but somehow he fit them together like a jigsaw puzzle.”

          She was right. Ben had created the rock-lined pool like one of those Roman mosaics, seamless and perfect like a work of art.

          We continued toward the berry patch. Charlie and I weren’t often left alone, and today she was in a talkative mood. “Nathan, what do you want to do when you get older?” We entered the upper part of the meadow where it narrowed, and we kept to a barely visible trail through knee-high grass dotted by clumps of pink flowering vetch and purple spikes of lupine.

          “To tell the truth, I haven’t thought much about it. I suppose I could manage a store like my dad.”

          She stopped for a moment and turned to me. “Nothing against your father, Nathan. He holds down a good job, but kids our age just have more choices, especially with college.” Then she continued along the trail. “You could do something with your writing, you know.”

          I pursed my lips together and shrugged. That was something I really hadn’t considered. “Writing to me is just a fun hobby. I enjoy making up stories and don’t consider it work. But . . . it's something to think about.” She put the idea in my head. “How about you, Charlie? Do you want to be a doctor like your dad?”

          “No, I’ve never really wanted to be a doctor, but I want to know everything possible about plants. All sorts of plants can be used for medicinal purposes. By studying them and making them practical to use, I think a person could help others just as much as a doctor.”

          She aimed a finger at a white, flowering plant growing at the edge of the meadow. “Those are valerian plants, and their roots can be used as a sleeping potion or even a tranquilizer.”

          The path threaded its way through a strip of mixed deciduous and evergreen forest lined by clusters of light purple flowers. “Those are wild geraniums. The extract from their roots helps stop bleeding, and a tea made from boiling the whole plant can stop diarrhea.”

          I flinched at the word “diarrhea”. I’d never heard a girl as special as Charlie use the expression before now.

          “Even the dandelions you find in your backyard can lower high blood pressure.” At that moment we reached the edge of the clear cut. Charlie knelt down in the middle of a group of small plants with roundish leaves. She parted them and exposed several fingernail-sized, reddish berries. “Of course, you know what these are, don't you?"

          "Of course, they're wild strawberries."

          "You know what they're good for, don’t you?”

          Wracking my brain for some medical use and coming up empty, I answered, “I guess I don’t.”

          She beamed a full grin and chuckled. “They’re good for eating. Sorry for the trick question.” She smirked and picked a few and poked them into her mouth. “Just like those.” She nodded at the clearing in front of us.

          We had reached the wild blackberry patch. The trailing vines of the Pacific blackberry overran about half of the small clear cut. Old tree stumps, even fallen logs wore a green, leafy coat. The viney mat hid its black, juicy treasures beneath.

          It took practice to pick these blackberries. Although some grew on the surface, basking in direct sunlight, the larger juicy fruit lay under the leafy mat. The picking technique was simple. You spread the vines with one hand while stripping the clusters of berries beneath with the other. But you had to be careful. When removing the prize, you could snag your hands and wrists on the tiny barbs. When you finished the job, miniscule, prickly welts dotted your picking hand.

          Since it was the height of the season, it didn’t take long to fill up the blackberry bucket. With little barbs of hunger beginning to gnaw at our stomachs, we sat down with our backs against a rotting log and opened our lunches. Our picking had worked up an appetite, and the aroma of our food, baloney sandwiches, oranges, and potato chips, made us ravenous.

          I scooted closer to Charlie as we consumed our lunches, and our eyes probed the curtain of trees bordering the blackberry patch. My eyes fixed on her as she gazed across the clear cut and explored the plaits of hair falling on her shoulders. With my mind, I traced the shaped of her nose and the curve of her neck, as if seeing her for the first time.

          Our lunches finished, Charlie sat with her hands propped back and her knees pulled up toward her chest. The smells of freshly-washed clothes, moist earth, and new growing vegetation mingled in the cool air.

          Shafts of sun broke through the overcast, illuminating the meadow and highlighting her soft, even features and the reddish tinge in her blonde, wavy hair. The sun cast her cheeks with a rosy glow, and she arched backward. Her gray, ribbed turtleneck fit snugly, accenting her breasts beneath.

          Completely unrehearsed, the moment seemed right, and she was like a magnet drawing me closer. Powerless to stop, even if I wanted, I leaned over and kissed her gentle on the lips. She didn't resist . . . my first kiss.

          When I pulled back, she looked so lovely that I bent to kiss her a second time. But, raising her right hand, she placed two fingers against my lips and whispered, “We’d better not”.

          I figured that she knew best. I stood up, held out my left hand, and pulled her to her feet. “Since we’re finished picking, I guess we’d better go,” I sighed.

          She nodded.

          We retraced out steps, walking in silence through the forest and upper meadow until we reached the spring. Before we moved in view of the cabin, she stopped, faced me, and took my hand. She held it for a moment and said, “Thank you”.

          “Thanks for what?” For the kiss? For not kissing her again? I didn’t know what she meant.

          She paused. “Thanks for making me feel special – not just one of the guys. But, Nathan . . . I don’t think we should do that again. There’s so much we need to accomplish in our lives. I don’t think we’re ready for a boyfriend and girlfriend type of thing. You’re about the sweetest guy I know, but you’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.”

          She gazed into my eyes, and even though I wasn’t sure, I forced my head up and down in agreement. Then, she released my hand, and we plodded down the hill, taking our time. When we reached the cabin, we laid the berry bucket and my backpack on the porch.

          As Bear caught sight of us, his eyes lit up and he yelled, “Hey, you guys! Come look!” He ran up the hill, grabbed Charlie by the arm, and almost dragged her to the side of the cabin where Jason and Ben were putting away the tools.

          “Look, we framed all the walls, and we even framed the door so that we can make a little trap door for the chickens at the bottom. And see those four roof trusses!” He flapped his hands at the triangular supports leaning against the bottom of the cabin. “We’re gonna put these up to support the roof later, but we need to get some metal roofing from the mine first.”

          We admired their professional-looking job. Even Jason acted excited, and Ben seemed happy too.

          Then Charlie hoisted the full berry bucket while I strapped on my backpack. The four of us waved goodbye to Ben as we headed home with Brian babbling away about each detail of the construction. Jason put in his two cents now and then too. We reacted to their comments, but Charlie and I had lost our gift for conversation during the long walk home.