Page 22 of Captured on Film
Scooting closer to lock arms, Josheb said, “Doesn’t matter,as long as it works.”
Talk about a childlike faith.
“Okay.” Caleb cleared his throat. “Sometimes, I think theyknow I’m listening. And then they sing for me. Maybe if I’m listening for you,it’ll carry over …?”
“Someone sings for you? Are we talkingangel chorus,here?”
“That makes as much sense as anything.” He sheepishly added,“I guess I’ve always imagined it’s the stars.”
Caleb focused on the melodies he’d learned to love. Thevoices were closer than usual, which may have had something to do with theelevation. Or maybe the stars that shone more brightly away from city lightsalso sang more sweetly.
It wasn’t hearing so much as feeling. Like the song wasaimed for his heart instead of his ears. Caleb found most figments to be pests,but this …thishad always been his personal proof that humans must havea soul.
Just a little. Let me share this.
If that counted as a prayer, it was answered. He knew themoment his brother figured out how to listen.
Josheb offered a breathless, “Oh.”
Caleb relaxed and whispered, “Yeah.”
First Light
A hand shook Caleb’s shoulder,dragging him from dreams.
“Storm’s passed,” said Josheb. “Come with me?”
He grunted and fumbled for another layer. Everything feltdamp, especially his boots, but it hardly mattered. Soft pattering beyond thetent walls suggested a lingering drizzle. At the very least, the trees werestill dripping. Unless the sun broke through, there wasn’t much hope of dryingout.
Caleb emerged from the tent, immediately at odd ends, sincethe first thing he usually did in the morning was walk Nessie. It felt wrong,standing there without a leash in his hand. Crossing to her food dish, hetipped out the previous night’s rainwater. Then stuffed it in the top of hisbackpack, along with a packet of emergency kibble. “She might be hungry.”
“Good thinking,” said Josheb. And they trudged toward theriver.
The ground underfoot was a misery of mud. Caleb gave up onthe trail, which had been reduced to a slick rut, filled with standing water.Fallen leaves were nearly as slick, so he picked his way through stands of fernand other scrubby brush. It was less slippery, but the leaves wet his pantlegs belowthe knees so thoroughly, he might as well be wading through water.
“Try whistling?” suggested Josheb.
Caleb used hiscome alongwhistle, which didn’treally carry far. But even the breathy tweeting between his teeth seemed loud.The woods were too quiet, and the hush he felt put him on edge. “Hey, Josheb?”
His brother turned.
“Something’s not right.”
“How so?”
“Do the woods feelemptyto you?”
Josheb peered around, a frown on his face. Backtracking, he tookhold of Caleb’s wrist and gave the surrounding woods a longer look. “Let’s callit a good sign,” he finally muttered.
“What kind of sign?”
With a roll of his eyes, Josheb quietly answered, “Thiswould be anapex predatorkind of sign.”
“I was afraid of that.”
As they trudged onward, the drips turned to drizzle, furtherdampening Caleb’s spirits. He didn’t want to meet an apex figment. Unless itwas one of those singing stars. Were they around by day, hanging out behind theblue of the sky or these persistent clouds?
I could use a song right about now.
