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It’s not particularly cold out, even if there is a chill. But it is dark… I jump at the sound of a door opening behind me. But when I turn to look, it’s just Juniper and Rowan, heading to the Nurse’s Cabin. It’s a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them where I was going anyways. No one would. With a sigh, I walk into the treeline. I can be brave— I can! I swear I can. I’m just lucky there are no campers— it’s just Christmas, so a few of us showed up to celebrate with Sydney. He gets lonely, you know? I would be lonely too if I was stuck here all year… But I’m probably the last person he wants to see. He won’t miss me. But maybe he cares a little more after last summer? I was the middle man for him and Elijah, after all… Something tells me that he still won’t miss me.
I walk until the camp is out of sight, and my stomach churns with anticipation. You’d almost think I was lovesick if I wasn’t only half-sure about where I’m going. Either way, Elijah will find me. He always does when I get lost. The sky swirls— a mix of inky black and indigo. At least I think it’s indigo. It could just be any old dark purple.
The gallon ziplock bag full of ham and tiny garlic-seasoned potatoes is still slightly warm under my sweater, against my side. I hope Elijah likes it— Sydney’s cooking is… weird. But in a good way! He’s very… inventive? Is that the word I’m looking for? Maybe? I don’t know. But it’s not bad. Sometimes, in the summers, I’d say it’s a nice break from Matthew’s cooking. But Sydney doesn’t really cook during the summer, because we have Matthew.
When the pale orange moon is high above the trees, I find Elijah’s cave. I walk in, and sure enough he’s sitting by a fire, writing on one of the notebooks I brought him this past summer. I breathe a sigh of relief and smile at him. He smiles back, standing and striding over to me. His eyes crinkle, and his thin cheeks look thicker than the last time I saw him. He must be doing better than simply living on one plate of cafeteria food a day.
“Joshua, what are you doing here? It’s winter,” Elijah asks.
I shake my head.
“I wanted to see you,” I say.
And it’s the truth. Normally I wouldn’t even ask to come here in the off-season, because I don’t think Sydney wants to see me and I try to be nice to him, but this time is different. Because Elijah is here.
“Joshua, dear, you didn’t have to,” Elijah says, holding my hands. His eyebrows are knitted— almost like he feels unsure.
“I wanted to,” I tell him.
“I’m glad, then. Come— sit with me,” Elijah says.
I follow, and the fire is warm. I sit down as Elijah lets go of my hands. He sits next to me, his shoulder brushing mine. I imagine he’s warm. Like a human fire— and as passionate as he gets, a fire is the only thing that would fit him. I imagine he’s warm the way he is during the summer. I could always feel how warm he was in the summer when he got this close, but now I can’t really feel him through my sweater. It’s a sweater with one of those meme dogs on it— it’s actually kind of cool! Yvonne knitted it. She wanted to learn knitting so she made this for me. I don’t think she’s kept up with the hobby since but it was nice of her to think of me. She says there’s a whole bunch of mistakes, but I can’t tell. I think she’s thinking too hard about it— what counts is that she thought of me!
I reach into the sweater, pulling out the bag of ham and mini potatoes, and hand it to Elijah.
“Here— Sydney made Christmas dinner, and there were leftovers. I thought you could use some dinner yourself,” I say.
Elijah takes the bag, opening it. The steam trapped on the inside indicates that it’s still at least a little warm.
“This… this is very thoughtful of you, Joshua. I am grateful,” Elijah says.
“I know. I, uh… you always had my back. I wanted to do something nice for you,” I say.
Elijah stands, leaving the bag of food on the ground.
“Wait here, dear— I have something for you,” he says.
“Elijah, you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” he says.
I go quiet as he returns with a leather bag, full of something that appears to be hard. I wish, in moments like these, he could be around all the other counselors. Yeah, he’s a bit weird , but he’s also really sweet. He sits next to me, food forgotten, and opens the bag to reveal a bunch of smaller leather bags.
“Elijah, what is this?” I ask.
“Carvings. Only my best,” he says.
There’s about five— maybe six— smaller bags in the bigger one. I pick one, and the wood inside is flat. When I take it out, there’s an image— carved and burned— onto it. It’s me , in the lake, which has the night sky reflected in it, so it looks like I’m swimming in the night sky. I remember this scene from last summer, late at night, swimming with Elijah.
“El, they’re beautiful,” I say.
Elijah smiles.
“I was hoping you’d like them,” he says.
“I love them,” I say.
“Even better,” he says.
Without much hesitation, he begins to eat the ham and potatoes after that. He eats with his hands, and he eats quickly. Soon he’s rinsing his hands in a puddle in the cave before drying them on his scrubs and leading me outside. The black and purple still seem to be fighting, but I lean against Elijah’s side.
“Elijah?” I ask.
“Yes, dear?”
I hesitate. Now wouldn’t be the time to bring up last summer, but… I have to know.
“Why did you want to sacrifice Sydney?” I ask.
“To make him immortal— to truly cement his godhood, because no one who can defy nature like he has is anything but a God,” Elijah says.
“But why? I mean, I know you backed down and it didn’t go anywhere, but why would you need that in the first place?”
“Because, for my kind, you need something to worship. Worship is my purpose, Joshua,”
“I don’t understand— why can’t your purpose be anything you want?” I ask.
“It would be hard for a human to understand, wouldn’t it? But it boils down to tradition,” Elijah asks.
“Tradition?” I ask.
“Tradition spanning thousands of years,” Elijah says.
“Oh.” I say.
“What is a human’s purpose?” Elijah asks.
I freeze. I… never really thought about it. But when I think of my purpose, I think of Yvonne. I think of playing videogames with her, buying her pads when she was broke, and being there for her when her girlfriends broke up with her. I think of Jedidiah, and how Yvonne and I work to get him to relax and open up. How we try to be there for him through his problems with Sydney, so he knows he’s not alone. Then I think of Sydney, and how I did my best to be there for him in college even though he didn’t want all that extra attention. Sure, I might have asked him out once or twice, but like Jedidiah, there was always something… lonely about him.
Then I think of Elijah, and how we separated after college only to find each other again at camp. And how, even after all this time, there’s no one who looks at me like he does, no one who talks to me as easily as he does. How there’s no one who can make me feel like I can belong anywhere with them the way I feel like I belong when I’m with him . I think of all the times he danced with me, all the jokes we shared. I think of the time we made a barista at Starbucks think we could only speak Russian, and the look on her face when I said ‘Thank you,’ in plain English without an accent. I was sure, in that moment, that it would be me and Elijah in that coffeeshop forever.
“It’s kind of lame,” I say.
“I doubt that it is,” Elijah says.
“I… still don’t want to say it,” I admit.
“Then take your time,” Elijah says, holding my hand.
A green aurora dances across the sky. They look almost like bright, threadbare green ribbons. Elijah is not looking at the sky, but at me. The wonder in his eyes, the curiosity… I know that I’m wanted more in this moment than I have been most of my life. I hope this lasts forever, but eventually I’m going to have to sneak back into Cabin Silkworm, and then maybe I’ll tell Yvonne a little bit about what happened. Not all of it, though. Some of it is only for me and Elijah. And that’s how it’s got to be.