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"You see, that's the problem with you tree-huggers, you make so many assumptions about us loggers. We are all nothing but big, bad land and woman rapists huh? Well the truth is I never once asked you to strip for me. I asked you to take off your shoes and socks. You're twenty years old, while I am thirty five for God sakes. There is no way I can keep up with you, but being barefoot, well that's different. You can run, but you sure aren't going to get anywhere fast in these woods being barefoot."

With a huff, Amy began to get redressed. As she did so, she turned so that the logger could not see her nudity. She also wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to maintain her composure as she slowly realized that the man was indeed right. He had had never asked for her to undress. With anger steered at her own stupidity, Amy only had to make a few steps before she realized he was also right in that being barefoot would seriously slow her up.

With each step she cringed. Between the dim light of the moon, the working forest they were walking in, and the cruel amounts of sticks, rocks and forest liter that carpeted the forest floor, Amy felt everything under her bare feet. It had been years since she had strolled through the forest without shoes or socks, and now that was something she was regretting.

"Where are you taking me anyway? We aren't anywhere near a road and it doesn't make much sense to walk around the woods in the middle of nowhere late into the night?"

"Well if you had a car I could have driven you into town to the authorities, but since you had a bike I got to hold you until the boys get here in the morning. There's an old logging camp just ahead. We'll stay there until I can figure out a way to us back to civilization."

"So where is your truck then?"

"Back in town. I rode in with Bobby in the lowbed truck delivering the delimber. I was going to run the feller-buncher all night so I can get ahead of the skidders, but you put a stop to that plan. As much as I hate it, it looks like you and I are stuck with each other for the night."

"And why the logging camp," she asked as they topped a knoll and the moonlight hit a derelict set of cabins that spread across a glade that was slowly beginning to crowd in? "Why the hell these cabins," she asked in disgust as she saw where he was taking her?

"It's the only hospitable place around that I know of."

"Hospitable," she asked as she looked around the cob-web filled camp, with dust littering the floor. "You don't care; you're not the one that has to walk around barefoot in this dump."

"Its an old logging camp. Its so far from town that the loggers stayed here all week, or in some cases, all winter. Back in the fifties or so they stopped making these places. Now they use camps that can be transported by truck so it's a bit more civilized."

"And your portable cabins?"

"They have not got here yet so this is home for the night."

"Lucky us" she said sarcastically as the logger threw the woman a broom he found on the porch. As she began to sweep the place to a more habitable condition, the logger returned from a back shed with a armful of firewood in hand. It only took a few minutes for him to start a fire and at least get some light in the dark cabin. As the fire began to consume the beech wood he had set ablaze, it crackled and sent embers lazily into the air. Out of the corner of her eye Amy saw the man toss her sneakers and socks into the fire and watched with horror as the fire began to lap first at the laces, and then at the stark white canvas.

"What the hell did you do that for? I was just about to ask for them back so I would not have to walk on this god-awful floor barefoot, not to mention polluting the air with that burning plastic and rubber!"

"Would you just shut the hell up.

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