[ When the Silent Bird Sings ]
Luc
Pockets had been surprisingly calm on the trip back to the old camp grounds we had laid claim to. He'd nudged me in front of him; he'd planted his eye on me, and we had walked forward without much exchange of a word. I had no words. My voice was gone in that instant; it felt as if a long nightmare had finally come to a screeching halt, and I was safe in the vision of the only security I had ever loved. He didn't raise his voice at me. He didn't speak above a whisper, occasionally asking a question about what had happened. I wasn't sure how to explain it, and I was worried he would suddenly be angry if I told him the truth. If I told him that I had been captured by the police, and that they'd given me to a rich, snooty woman who kept telling me my name was something other than my name ... If I told him anything, I was certain that the peace of mind I felt would fall apart. I didn't want that. I don't think anyone in their right mind would have wanted to unleash that - and I had all the more reason to be wary of the circumstance. It had been my fault that we'd needed to run away from the junction. It had been my fault that we'd needed to retreat to the old campgrounds. If we were forced to relocated again, because of me, I could only begin to imagine the outrage and disappointment. It was the truth of things, and for that reason, I had established that I could not, and would not, ever profess that I had actually been captured by the police.
It was night time when we had reached the campgrounds. Trees stood alongside us like high rises, glimpses of the night sky and the moon showing through the tattered canopies. I stared up. For the first time in what felt like the majority of my life, I could see the stars again. I could smell the freshness of pine, and oak. The whiff of smoke and fire captured my attention as the darkned area, having only been lit by a flashlight Pockets carried, became reddish-orange. I'd torn myself away from the trees, my claw-like nails digging into the edge of Pockets' shirt as I dragged myself along, intent on not losing him. Like a parade road, the campsite came into view. The fire had been started, Caps huddled up on a blanket next to it, Button at her side as she read one of the few books she carried to him aloud. A clattering beat steadily flooded forward as Pockets set the over-bloated bag of food and necessities down on the ground, a portion of it spilling forward as if it were the finale end to a politician's arrival. The rest felt like a movie. I had released Pockets' shirt. I had stood still in disbelief, taking only a step back as Caps stood up, and button stared. She ran. I felt her fingers run through my hair, touch my face, as she wrapped her arms tightly around me. For the moment, I was deaf. I could hear nothing but the crackling of the fire, the beating of my own heart. She squeezed me close as Button approached, grabbing hold of my arm. I was home, and they had missed me.
"God ... Where did you find him?"
The words brought me back to reality as I noticed Caps' lips move. She turned her head to look up at Pockets. He stared back at her, something of a quirk in his lip signalling that it was accidental. "He found his own way. I was headed back up the tracks and he was walking."
Button touched my nose with his, grinning profusely before leaning away from me. It was at that time I realized something odd: Button's lips were moving. Button was staring at me. His box was not within his hands; he was talking: "Where were you? I missed you!"
My jaw fell open somewhat; my ears perked up high as I looked between Pockets and Caps. They looked back, shaking their heads as if they were as startled as I was that Button had spoken a single word. We stood in silence for a while - until Pockets had dug out three candy bars he'd brought from the city and the food run. One for Caps. One for Button. One for him - or one that would have been for him. He didn't bother with it. He'd simply unwrapped the bar, handing it to me as if he suspected I were terribly hungry, which I was.
"Did you get captured?" Button asked breathlessly, grabbing my hand to lead me back to the blanket. Caps was reading him Peter Pan. I could tell that had been the book as we passed it. I en't one who's read a lot of books, but I knew Peter Pan. "Was it scary?"
"Button, calm down." Caps fell in step behind us, sitting down and wrapping the blanket about herself once more. "He's been talking all week, Luc. As soon as you disappeared, all he could do was talk about you and where you had gone."
"I just en't needed to talk before that!" Button declared, pulling me down to the ground with him. "It hurts my throat talking." He coughed as if for emphasis. I knew something was different, though. He'd never been so animated. He'd never been so chipper, so interactive. He'd always been reclusive and slow, seemingly troubled and inarticulate.
"Now you want to tell us what happened?" Caps leaned over at me, closing her book and setting it off to the side. The worried expression and fidget of her lips told me she was concerned about the situation. One look around the campsite, one glimpse of Pockets picking up what had spilt from his bag, I was reminded of the fact that I needed to lie. At least a little bit. They could never know.
So I inhaled a breath. I curled myself up somewhat; I stared at the fire, swallowing hard before I began to speak. And in the eyes of a small boy who had, for so long, never blinked, I became a hero.
It was night time when we had reached the campgrounds. Trees stood alongside us like high rises, glimpses of the night sky and the moon showing through the tattered canopies. I stared up. For the first time in what felt like the majority of my life, I could see the stars again. I could smell the freshness of pine, and oak. The whiff of smoke and fire captured my attention as the darkned area, having only been lit by a flashlight Pockets carried, became reddish-orange. I'd torn myself away from the trees, my claw-like nails digging into the edge of Pockets' shirt as I dragged myself along, intent on not losing him. Like a parade road, the campsite came into view. The fire had been started, Caps huddled up on a blanket next to it, Button at her side as she read one of the few books she carried to him aloud. A clattering beat steadily flooded forward as Pockets set the over-bloated bag of food and necessities down on the ground, a portion of it spilling forward as if it were the finale end to a politician's arrival. The rest felt like a movie. I had released Pockets' shirt. I had stood still in disbelief, taking only a step back as Caps stood up, and button stared. She ran. I felt her fingers run through my hair, touch my face, as she wrapped her arms tightly around me. For the moment, I was deaf. I could hear nothing but the crackling of the fire, the beating of my own heart. She squeezed me close as Button approached, grabbing hold of my arm. I was home, and they had missed me.
"God ... Where did you find him?"
The words brought me back to reality as I noticed Caps' lips move. She turned her head to look up at Pockets. He stared back at her, something of a quirk in his lip signalling that it was accidental. "He found his own way. I was headed back up the tracks and he was walking."
Button touched my nose with his, grinning profusely before leaning away from me. It was at that time I realized something odd: Button's lips were moving. Button was staring at me. His box was not within his hands; he was talking: "Where were you? I missed you!"
My jaw fell open somewhat; my ears perked up high as I looked between Pockets and Caps. They looked back, shaking their heads as if they were as startled as I was that Button had spoken a single word. We stood in silence for a while - until Pockets had dug out three candy bars he'd brought from the city and the food run. One for Caps. One for Button. One for him - or one that would have been for him. He didn't bother with it. He'd simply unwrapped the bar, handing it to me as if he suspected I were terribly hungry, which I was.
"Did you get captured?" Button asked breathlessly, grabbing my hand to lead me back to the blanket. Caps was reading him Peter Pan. I could tell that had been the book as we passed it. I en't one who's read a lot of books, but I knew Peter Pan. "Was it scary?"
"Button, calm down." Caps fell in step behind us, sitting down and wrapping the blanket about herself once more. "He's been talking all week, Luc. As soon as you disappeared, all he could do was talk about you and where you had gone."
"I just en't needed to talk before that!" Button declared, pulling me down to the ground with him. "It hurts my throat talking." He coughed as if for emphasis. I knew something was different, though. He'd never been so animated. He'd never been so chipper, so interactive. He'd always been reclusive and slow, seemingly troubled and inarticulate.
"Now you want to tell us what happened?" Caps leaned over at me, closing her book and setting it off to the side. The worried expression and fidget of her lips told me she was concerned about the situation. One look around the campsite, one glimpse of Pockets picking up what had spilt from his bag, I was reminded of the fact that I needed to lie. At least a little bit. They could never know.
So I inhaled a breath. I curled myself up somewhat; I stared at the fire, swallowing hard before I began to speak. And in the eyes of a small boy who had, for so long, never blinked, I became a hero.
