would be there. Even at my loneliest, I would get a response. Now? Now there is nothing.”
“But… maybe you did get an answer,” I say slowly.
He looks at me sharply. “How do you mean?”
“I’m here, right? With you? We may have gotten separated, but I’m here now. Maybe you were heard after all.”
Calliel looks like he wants to argue with me, like I’ve completely missed the point he was trying to make. Instead, he sighs, then chuckles to himself as he shakes his head. “You are here,” he agrees quietly.
“And can you see my thread?” This is the weirdest conversation of my life.
He nods. “I can see it well.” The relief in his voice is a palpable thing and it almost knocks me flat.
“And you’re okay, and the person you had to help tonight is okay, right?”
“Yes, Benji. She is fine.”
I want to know who it is and what he did, but it doesn’t feel like it’s my place to ask. “Okay, then.”
“Are you?”
“What?”
“Are you okay? Where did you go tonight?”
For a moment, I think about telling him everything, just to see what he says, or what he thinks. I want to see if he knows anything. If he’s the guardian of Roseland, then he might have an idea about what happened in the sheriff’s house tonight. The worst he could tell me is that he can’t remember. I’m about to ask, but then I catch the worried spark in his eyes, the way he starts to frown. He’s got too much on him already, I realize, probably something more significant than I could ever understand. To him, my problems would be nothing because, in the reality of the cosmos from which he comes, I am nothing.
“I’m okay,” I say, my voice steady.
He starts to say something, but then shakes his head.
So we sit there, on the roof, he and I. Every now and then, I feel his hand graze against mine. Eventually, my head starts to bob, my eyes heavy. I don’t protest when a strong arm wraps around me and pulls me over. He is so warm, and I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe deeply, smelling earth. He keeps his arm around me as he rubs his chin on the top of my head. Eventually, I drift off to sleep.
I do not dream.
Sometime later, I awaken to a gentle voice. “Benji. Benji. Open your eyes.
Open your eyes and see.”
I do. He’s staring down at me, cradling me in his arms, a small smile on his face. “The sun is about to rise. You must see this. It is a beautiful thing.” He looks toward the horizon.
But all I can see is him.
a man about town
I make him shower before we leave (a scowling “I don’t think I’m going to like
this” turns into a loud “Hey, this is pretty neat!”). He dresses in the same clothes he had on before, the white T-shirt and jeans, pulling on an old pair of work boots. I tell him with no small amount of dread that while I’m at work he’s going to need to go shopping for some new clothes.
“Why?” he says, looking down at what he’s wearing. “Is there something wrong with this? I don’t think I’m going to like shopping.”
“You know, you say you aren’t going to like anything, yet you end up liking everything,” I remind him. “I haven’t yet steered you wrong, right?”
“Do you like shopping?” he asks innocently enough.
I’m unable to stop the look of disgust on my face. I try to hide it and say, “Sure. Well, some of the time.”
He nods. “I wish someone had told you that you’re a terrible liar so I wouldn’t have to be the first one. I feel bad now.”
“You don’t feel bad at all,” I growl at him.
Cal’s eyes dance. “I do,” he promises. “But I’m not going to go shopping. I will stay with you until it is time to leave. But if there are any threads, I will follow them and then come back.”
“You have to go,” I sigh. “You can’t keep wearing that.”
“Why?”
I struggle with the answer. “Those are… my father’s. It’s just… weird for me. To see it.”
His eyes go wide as he looks down at himself. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding wounded. “I did not think. Benji, please forgive me.” He starts to lift the shirt over his head, and I catch a glimpse of his stomach, wonderfully muscled under the auburn curls. I almost think about