Chapter Nine

The next day Caiden talked incessantly. He told me about all the concerts he had been to. Apparently it had been almost a hobby with him when he was alive. He told me about his life at his home, in Washington. He told me about his family, and his likes and dislikes. He had two sisters, and his parents were divorced. Caiden hated peas and loved chicken wings.

He also asked me questions about myself, about my life, about why I was going home.

“I have nowhere else to go,” I told him.

Caiden frowned. “Sure you do. You could see the world. Travel is free for people like us. Jump on a plane. Go to Europe or something.” He grinned, white teeth gleaming in the sun.

I shrugged. “I don’t really want to go anywhere else. I want to go somewhere where I…” I trailed off, feeling stupid.

“Feel safe?” Caiden guessed. He wasn’t laughing.

I nodded, relieved that he seemed to understand. He nodded. “Yeah, I get you. I think most of us feel that way. I guess I shouldn’t talk about traveling, because I went home first, too.”

“You did? What… happened?”

He had that thoughtful expression again, and I realized that he was remembering. “They’d gone on without me. I saw what all newbies have to see. Life moved on, while I didn’t. I wasn’t one of them anymore. And after hanging around for a while, I got sick of it. I didn’t want to see my sisters keep going to school in my car. I didn’t want to know that my best friend was going to concerts without me. I didn’t want to watch as my girlfriend found someone else. So I left, to find a life of my own, as there’s really no other way to put it.”

I experienced a pang as he said girlfriend. But then I knew that it was stupid of me. Of course he would have had a girlfriend. He was nice, very good looking, and had a license. It was dumb of me to hope that there had been no girls in his life.

I realized Caiden was waiting for me to say something. “I wouldn’t know how to find a life of my own,” I said quietly. “I’ve… always been kind of boring.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t at me. I smiled at the sound. “You aren’t boring, Hope,” Caiden said, eyes twinkling. “Quiet, maybe. But not boring.”

I was blushing. If he noticed, he didn’t comment. “Thanks,” I replied.

He shrugged, still grinning. “You wouldn’t know the meaning of boring until you met Lloyd. He’s as dull as a person can get. He’s one of those science geeks. Has his own lab in Chicago. It’s pretty neat, as long as Lloyd isn’t trying to explain every single test tube to you.”

“He has his own lab?” I asked in wonderment. “He can… touch all of it? The living world stuff? Like your backpack and your headphones?”

Caiden shakes his head. “All of my things aren’t exactly from the ‘living world stuff’ as you put it. I guess I should’ve explained. Guess I forgot.

“Anyway, this place where we’re at, some call it the place between heaven and earth. It’s pretty cool, actually. It’s like God grants us what we want, because we’re so much closer to Him.”

“What do you mean?” I was thoroughly confused.

“It’s like this: whatever we want, whatever we think of that we have a desire for, just appears. Take my iPod, for example.” Caiden tugs the item out of his pocket. It’s one of the newest designs, I see.

“It has every single favorite song of mine on it. After about a year here, I was thinking about how much I wanted music again. It’s always been a big part of my life. And then there it was, suddenly, in my hand.”

I was becoming excited. It was the way I was—even in school I was excited at a new project. “Show me!” I exclaimed. “Wish for something!”

He grinned at my eagerness. “Okay. I want… a chicken leg.”

It didn’t appear instantly, like I thought it would. Instead, it became visible to us gradually, like a TV just turning on and the screen was coming into focus. Then the leg was there in his hand, smothered in barbecue sauce, and it steamed slightly, as if it had just come from a microwave.

My stomach growled at the sight of it. Caiden glanced at me. “Oh. Uh, who needs food anyway?” He tossed it aside. I started after it longingly, and he tugged at my arm. Shocked that he had touched me, I stared.

We walked again. “How old were you when you were first able to touch something?” I asked Caiden, a tinge of impatience in my voice. I was sick of walking, and I wanted what Caiden had. I wanted to make things appear, I wanted to listen to music…

Caiden seemed to realize what I was thinking, as he always seemed to. “Hey, relax, Hope. You have time to learn, don’t worry.” He raised his eyebrows. “And before long, you’ll be lifting and touching and pulling so many chicken legs out of the air that you’ll forget about the time when you couldn’t do it.”

I was doubtful, but I didn’t voice that niggling feeling deep within me. What if I was a freak, and would never be able to do it?

Caiden had apparently decided I wasn’t going to answer, because he’d moved on to another question. “What was your favorite subject in school?” For some reason, he seemed particularly interested in this answer.

I watched my shoes as I answered. “I liked Math the most, I guess.”

I glanced up at him to see his reaction, and was shocked to see that he looked a little disappointed. Why? I opened my mouth to ask him, but he reached for his headphones.

Desperate to keep them off, I blurted, “But I also liked English a lot, too.”

Caiden paused, and turned his dark head to smile at me. “Oh, yeah? What’d you like about it?”

His fingers were still gripping one ear of those stupid headphones, and I somehow felt that my answer depended on those going up or not. “Well,” I began slowly, thinking. “I’ve always loved to read. I like fiction a lot.”

Caiden nodded. “Reading is my pastime, too. But poetry mostly. I’m not much one for fiction.” He looked almost… delighted. I realized that I’d finally touched something that was a huge part of his life… existence… and I made the connection.

“You write poetry.”

He grinned, looking a little sheepish now. “Yeah, I try. I don’t know if it’s any good, because I’ve never shown it to anyone, but I like the feeling I get when I’m writing. I forget about everything else, and my pen and paper is all that matters.”

Hesitant, I allowed the conversation to lapse while I worked up the nerve to ask. “Can I… Can I see some?”

Caiden smiled at me again. “Yes… when I’m done. I’m working on something right now. You can see it when I’ve deemed it complete.”

“All right,” I said, smiling back. It was impossible not to.

It was growing dark again, but it usually didn’t make a difference with us. We rarely ever stopped at night. But Caiden said something that made me want to dart off the road and hide.

He was frowning, glaring at the road ahead, and I followed his gaze. There were five shadows blocking our path a few hundred yards away, standing between two huge rocks on either side of the road.

“Shit,” Caiden muttered, reaching over to grab my arm. “Drifters.”