Oct. 13

Today, Caleb said his first words in a week. I was sitting there, watching him while Hunter was taking his first shower. In an instant, my friend shot up from the bed, gasping heavily.

A jumped in a state of fear, flinging the book I was reading out of my hands. The injured person began clawing at the bandages over his face. With the gauze torn off to the ground, I was able to see his normal self, recovered from the burn.

His lips were cracked from lack of water, trying to moisten them with his dried tongue. “Ww… wat. Er…” I stared at him for a second, processing the request. I didn’t fully understand it until he tried to stand up to get a drink.

“Oh! Water? Uhhm?” I shot up from the seat, hurrying over to the kitchen. I searched the empty cabinets, looking for a cup, but all I could find were half-eaten bags of potato chips or stale fast food. Finally, in the last cabinet was a small ‘Dora-the-Explora’ party cup. I ran over to the sink to fill it up.

The bathroom door swung open to reveal a steamy, half-naked Hunter. He had a baby blue towel around his waist. His arm moved back and forth as he brushed his teeth, “Hey What’s up?”

My legged bounced, waiting for the seemingly endless chalice to fill. “Umm… I guess Caleb’s up.” Finally, the liquid came to the brim. I ran back into the room without waiting for Hunter to respond.

Caleb took long sips out of the sippy cup, then set it down on his shelf. His voice was hoarse from lack of use, “Thanks…” I removed the rest of the bandages around his head. His face was completely healed. It was amazing, his face looked completely healed, not even having any marks or signs of his injury. The only difference was his hair.

Where he used to have a long mop of brown curled hair, now it was frequent, uneven patches of singed mats. It looked like when a kindergartner would take it upon himself to give a haircut, but instead of safety scissors, Caleb used a blowtorch. He felt around his balding scalp in sadness.

“Don’t worry bud,” I slapped him on the back, “we’ll get you a hat and no one will know.”

“Thanks…. Also could you not hit me? I still feel like death on the rest of my body.” I didn’t realize his body concaved unnaturally where my hand was.

“Oh god, I’m sorry!!” I retracted my hand in embarrassment, my hands fidgetting with fluster. Then, for the first time all week, Caleb let out one of his classic laughs. Even broken and beaten on his bed, it was the best thing to see him seemingly back to himself.

I looked behind us to the doorway. Hunter just stood there, silent. His face read many different emotions: relief, anger, pride, sadness, jealousy. Caleb noticed him too, “Oh hey, Hunter! Nice skirt.” He weakly pointed to the towel, tightly hugging his scrawny stomach.

His face blushed a deep shade of red. He stammered, “I..I-” Then he left the room, walking back into the bathroom in shame.

Caleb picked his ear, “Hm? Wonder what that’s about?”

Oh, poor Hunter...