Chapter Eight
Two more days passed without event. Caiden didn’t really speak to me again, other than to encourage my attempts to touch objects. To say that he confused me would be putting it lightly, but I did not press him, and continued to be an uncomplaining and pleasant traveling companion.
With every step taken, we were nearing the time when he would continue on to his friends in Chicago, and I would go home. Home. To what? To my parents, who wouldn’t be able to see me, and who would only inflict unintentional agony on me? To Kelly, who no doubt had moved on to a new best friend, like Jenna? That stupid Jenna, with her blonde hair and plastic pink nails.
I realized that, more and more, I wanted to go with Caiden. But he didn’t offer, and I didn’t dare to ask.
The only sound as we walked on the empty road was the wind. Our feet on the ground made no sound, blunt evidence that we weren’t part of the real world.
Then, abruptly, Caiden pulled off his headphones. I looked at him with a hopeful smile, but he didn’t look back at me. Would he talk again?
Evidently not. He didn’t say anything, and I could hear the music blasting out of the headphones around his neck. As I had nothing else to do, I strained to hear what song he was listening to. Rock, clearly. There were the loud drums. More Three Days Grace? I had no idea. I didn’t know their music all that well. When I was alive, I was into Brittany Spears, then Avril Lavigne, and the most recent before my fall had been Kelly Clarkson. Music that I was pretty certain Caiden did not relate to.
Why was I so afraid to talk to him first? Perhaps he was inviting conversation, but was waiting for me to begin it.
I nervously opened my mouth, not sure about what I would say but eager for him to respond. “What are you listening to?” I asked. Not the most original of openers, but at least it wasn’t stupid.
Caiden frowned, barely glancing at me. “What?” he asked, sounding distracted.
I repeated my question.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Uh, I’m listening to… Switchfoot.”
I’d never heard of them. “Neat,” I replied dejectedly. He didn’t say anything in return, as I knew he wouldn’t. Was it me? Did I bore him?
I made no other attempts to have conversation as we went on. Caiden’s normally serene expression was tight, thoughtful. I kept glancing at him worriedly. I knew he was getting impatient. The next car that passed, he would probably get on, and then I would be alone again.
“Let’s stop here,” Caiden surprised me by saying. I followed him without question, though my insides were churning. He was finally sick of me. He was going to say goodbye, and go. I tried to cheer myself. Well, at least it would be over with, and when it was just me again, I would have nothing to dread.
Nothing but the looming rest of eternity.
Caiden sat on a rock, and I stood in front of him awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. He again caught me by surprise by pulling off his backpack, and taking a notebook out of it. He also dug out a pen, and yanked off the cap with his teeth. I stared at him as he began to write.
What was he doing?
It was getting dark, and still I stood. He took no notice of me, and was lost in whatever it was that he was writing with such fervor. I ached to ask him what it was, but I somehow knew that to intrude in on his writing would be wrong.
When it was so dark that Caiden couldn’t see the paper, he took out the flashlight. Then he wrote by way of its weak light. While he wrote, he would pause at times, staring off into the scenery, but not really seeing it. It was as if he had forgotten my existence. The moon shone down on him, and made his hair seem almost white. I became content just looking at him.
Finally, when I was seriously considering just lying down and sleeping, Caiden set down his pen and sighed.
“Done,” he announced triumphantly, grinning at me. I smiled back uncertainly. He yawned. “Sorry that took so long. Man, I feel beat. Wanna take a detour and just stay here for the night?”
I didn’t tell him that I was willing to do anything that would postpone our separation. I nodded wordlessly. Caiden smiled again.
“Cool. Ah, I got something in here…” He pulled out a blanket from his backpack, and then slid off the flat rock to spread it out over the surface. “Go ahead and lay down,” he said. “I think I’ll add some finishing touches to this.” He held up the notebook.
“Okay,” I said, heading for the rock. He ruffled my hair, and sat down a distance away. I laid down, my heart in my throat. He’d touched me. He’d touched my hair. Of course, there was before, when he’d hugged me, but then he hadn’t known who I was and I had thought he was some sort of animal.
I look over at Caiden. He had gathered some sticks that were nearby, and had arranged them into a pile. As I watched, he lit a match and set the tiny pile ablaze. The fire was too slight for me to feel its heat, but I felt warm anyway. Smiling to myself, my eyes fluttering shut, I fell asleep to the sound of the pages of the notebook flipping back and forth, and Caiden’s pen scratching across the paper
