Ch15

18 8 11
                                    


Liam clutched the sides of the countertop and rocked, very on edge for what Caleb had planned. He stared at the book wide-eyed as though it would eat him, as Caleb drew out a stick of chalk and waved it out like a magic wand. Apparently, he didn't want a single speck of it loose on the tip should it smear the circle even just a tiny bit. If Liam didn't know better, being the dead himself, he would think along with the rest of the world that he was watching a madman.

He swallowed. "Um, Caleb?" his voice shook.

"Yeah, get in middle," Caleb waved in response.

He didn't even sense that Liam was distressed. All he cared about was proving himself to Paul and maybe, the world. It made Liam feel like an object, alienated as he floated from the counter to sit cross-legged in his tiny prison of candles. In that moment, he wanted to cry, but he held it back and mustered up a grin when Caleb set the box down and he turned around with the chalk.

"Here you go."

"You want me to curse it for you this time?" Liam said.

Caleb let out a gruff sound in reply. It fell and clattered to the floor, glowing with a soft yellow light that was barely perceptible in the morning glow of their kitchen.

"You know, there's still something I don't understand. Sometimes you can touch things and you can walk around just fine like that. But other times, you can't. What's stopping you from sinking through the floor right now?"

Definitely you aren't.

Liam let out a loud laugh, then coughed into his hand. He had begun to suspect that they had some kind of telepathy, like ESP, except they were not twins. They were soul mates, pun intended. Even in times like this Liam knew that. He just wished that Caleb would relax. Liam hated to see him pushing himself so hard for something that wasn't even all that important. In fact no; it didn't matter at all whether they found his killer, or proved themselves to Paul that this was real.

It didn't even matter that Caleb needed validation for that (or thought that he did).

"Okay, just sit right there Liam. Paul will be over in a few minutes," Caleb said.

Liam couldn't help but to laugh. "Where else am I supposed to go? How are you going to prove any of this to Paul?"

Caleb turned with a grin, looking suddenly lighter. "We'll figure that out when he gets here."

Liam tilted his head. "Caleb, what exactly do you have planned?"

Surely he wasn't actually planning on showing Liam to Paul, right? Caleb wasn't that desperate, right?

Liam swallowed.

~

"I have no idea what I'm looking at."

Paul stood in front of the double doors and slowly crossed into the kitchen. He had the look of a man who was being walked into a slaughterhouse. Paul looked at the pot of boiling rosehips as if he would find his answer in the rising steam, but this was not that kind of psychic meeting. Caleb was not here to read tea leaves, or predict the future through bones cracked over a fire, or show him his tarot card collection (as if he had one) .

No, Caleb was not that kind of person; but he knew a thing or two about bringing back the dead, and he was about to share it with the one (living) person that he just knew he could trust. Paul just had to believe him! Caleb shot Paul an eccentric smile, even though he himself was shaking a little bit. He hoped that Paul didn't catch him swallowing a lump in his throat when he caught Liam flipping in circles in the corner of his eye.

FlashfireDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora