Kalliope 2014.pdf May. 2014 | Page 128

entertaining us for a short while. “Guest room’s clean and the couches are always open, if ya’ll want some good sleep. I’ll be gone before ya’ll are up, but I get off at three tomorrow.” I nodded, “Thank you! I’m not too sure what the plan is, but I think we were going to start a fire down by the pond.” “Good idea. Got plenty of wood for ya’ll to burn, that’s for sure. I’ll fetch you a lighter, since I don’t think you Yankees know how to start a fire without it.” We all smiled. It wasn’t a trip to the farm without being called a Yankee six or more times. My personal favorite was when he’d say “Bah, I don’t take the interstate into town; that road’s for the Yankees.” I did love the interstate. The dog followed us down to the pond, probably intrigued by having such unusual company. Luckily by the time we got to the pond, the sun was just settling into its home for the night. We hastily and carelessly got the fire started while it was light and sat staring at the sunset. A low hanging tree made the water ripple as it swayed, so the sunlit shimmering swells sloshed against the bank of the pond. I glanced over to Eric, his back ever straight, even as we sat on the grass. On his cheek, I saw a tear slowly crawling its way down his face. I tilted my head and just stared at him for a moment. “This is amazing.” He said softly. Sure, I guess it was. I mean, it was just the sun. We see the sun every day. It certainly wasn’t enough to make me cry. Somehow, though, he was crying as if it was his final viewing of the sun. That it wasn’t just setting, but being buried forever. I simply didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t bring up what had been on my mind since we left Aunt Beth’s house. He wasn’t upset, so it wasn’t like I needed to comfort him, exactly. Sure, he was crying, but not out of sadness. He was just in such a state of raw emotion. And I could sense he was proud of it, too. Most guys would be ashamed to cry over a sunset, but not Eric, he was proud of it. I wished I could have shared that pride with him. I wished I hadn’t become immune to my own feelings, especially when around him. I stopped dreaming and simply inched toward him a little more. “You are a really rare person, Eric.” The next morning I woke to the sun staring at my face. It was surprising to know I’d slept through at least part of the morning without being woken by the bright light. I was probably more drained of energy 126