winning the bet

After four arduous hours of creeping uphill, Gabe, Hacken and myself finally reached the top of Dead Woman's Pass. We spent a couple of moments basking in our accomplishment before collapsing down to rest and relax while the rest of the group finished the hardest leg of the trek.

I laid down with the sun on my face and closed my eyes. I opened them minutes later to see Gabe and Hacken talking with worried smiles.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Toilets," Gabe said to me.

Hacken nodded. "We heard there are real toilets at the campground where we're eating lunch."

I saw their minds in motion and couldn't stop mine from kicking into gear. The only "toilets" we'd seen so far were nothing more than holes in the ground with foot markers indicating the best place to squat. Peeing, obviously, was not a problem. But pooping? Well, that was something else.

"You thinking of going?" I asked them. "You really willing to give up already? It's only been two days."

"It's a toilet," Gabe said. "Who knows when we'll see another one."

Hacken didn't say anything. He didn't have to. His eyes were nodding in agreement.

"Suit yourselves," I said before walking away to lay back down on the grass, "but I'm still gonna hold it in."

Once the whole crew arrived we began our descent to the lunch site. The three of us outpaced the rest and made it down in a little over an hour. We passed the time talking about music, movies and, of course, the toilets.

"I don't know," Gabe said, "but I'm really thinking of going."

"Have you ever taken a $20 deuce before?" I asked.

"It's worth it," he answered.

The three of us sat next to each other in the dining tent as our lunch was spread out. As was the routine, the meal started with a hearty soup and was followed by a salad, a stew (some sort of chicken concoction), 2 different vegetable sides and 2 different starches. Plates were filled and forks shot into action.

About three bites in Gabe stood up and made his way outside the tent. Hacken and I met eyes and started laughing at a cacophonous level that drowned out the entire tent.

"What is it?" asked Jeanie, a lonely extrovert in her mid-forties who shared every single internal thought in her heavy Boston accent. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Hacken managed to get out in between laughs.

"You boys laughing at what I said?" she asked, her eyes shining with the recognition she was dying to get.

"Sorry," I said when we'd gotten ourselves back in control. "Didn't hear you." I debated whether or not to let the group in on our bet but decided against it. "We were laughing at something else."

"Oh." Disappointment covered her face like a mask.

Gabe came back into the tent with a smile.

"You out?" Hacken asked.

"No," Gabe said as he sat down. "Was just doing recon. The toilet looks good. There's no seat, but it's a real toilet."

"Your call," I said. "But I think you should go."

Our minds stayed in motion the rest of the meal. Everyone watched us with suspicious eyes because they knew we were up to something. They just didn't know what.

Lunch ended and Gabe lasted 10 minutes.

"Let me get the wipes," he said to Hacken. "It's time."

Hacken smiled, clapped his hands and handed over the wipes.

"Enjoy."

Gabe walked off and Hacken turned to me.

"Dude," he started, "let's call a truce. We'll split his $20 and just call it even."

"What's the matter?" I asked. "Looking for an out?"

"No. I'm just trying to help you out."

"Mighty white of you. But I'm ok to keep waiting."

"No you're not!" His lips formed a straight line while his eyes pleaded with me. "You want to go."

"I sure do, but I'm not going to."

"Fine."

Gabe returned with a smile on his face and a glow like he'd just deflowered a member of the Swedish royal family.

"How was it?" I asked Gabe.

"Dude," he said, "I feel like a new man."

I too wanted to feel like a new man but I didn't want to lose the bet. I was more than willing to deal with my internal discomfort if it meant Hacken had to do the same.

"Did you squat?" Hacken asked, hoping Gabe didn't subject his cheeks to the cold and dirty ceramic.

"Yes." A moment passed and a smile formed on his lips. "No. I sat on the porcelain."

We all started laughing. Hacken looked at me, at Gabe, at the toilets in the distance, grabbed the wipes and walked off with a scowl. I stayed behind but was soon overcome by curiosity. I made my way to the toilets and found him waiting outside. He laughed when he saw me.

"Come on," he said, "let's just call it even."

"Look," I answered, "the minute you flush I'm gonna go. But if you don't go, I'm not going to. I'm more than willing to turn around and walk away."

"I'm doing this for you, you know."

"No you're not. You're doing it for you. You have to go."

"I fucking hate you," he said before walking into a stall.

I sat down on the ground and waited. Hacken emerged after five minutes with a grin on his face and relief in his eyes. He handed me the wipes and called me an asshole.

"Easiest 40 bucks I've ever made," I said before entering the stall and unleashing two days worth of Peruvian fare.