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When you eyed Caleb as he walked into his home, you didn’t bat an eye at the absurd amount of grocery bags in his hands. Or the plushies sitting underneath his right arm. Or the drone underneath his left one.
“You are a mess,” you comment before walking over to him to help out. The largest plushie — a blue, white, and yellow plane — is in one hand, whereas the groceries are in another. You can’t help but be reminded of childhood as you walk over to his kitchen counter, a dream that quickly disappears in the blink of an eye as soon as you take a glance at the man you once shared it with.
The Caleb that stands in front of you is not the same Caleb from back then.
His face is sharp, coated in duty you don’t ever remember him having. His hands are meticulous as they arrange the items from the grocery bags, scarred with his newfound power. His eyes are cold, deprived of the sunlight that always shined in them when you were kids.
You can only stare at this stranger as he faintly retains the person he used to be.
“Need anything?” he asks.
You shake your head, embarrassed. “No.”
He looks over at you for a second, scrutiny coating every moment of it, before going back to organizing the canned items. “I’m sure you haven’t run out of things to do in Skyhaven. I’m sorry I haven’t been very present.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been browsing the books you have on your shelves. They’re not too bad of a selection.”
You don’t admit that you’re not okay and that not even the worlds you find in literature could pull you away from your boredom. You even skimmed through his most annotated book, Paradise Lost, just to learn more about who this Caleb is, but to no avail.
“Sounds fun,” he comments, and the conversation dissipates after that.
When grocery items are placed in his pantry and fridge, you move on to the large collection of plushies. Aside from the plane you were holding, there were so many colorful little cuties waiting to be placed in his dark, unwelcoming home. You recognize some of them from the wishlist you had written in your diary back when you were still a child.
“Fairymare!” you can’t help but exclaim excitedly. You squeeze it with all your might, happiness oozing out of every smile on your face. Your childhood comes back to you, even if only for a brief moment.
And the person you spent it with stares at you, his lips slightly curved upward.
“The amusement park was giving out free plushies today,” he admits. “I couldn’t help but snag some of them since you said I should decorate my house more.”
Your smile turns into a full grin. It feels like sunlight shines where clouds have always lingered. “I’m glad you listened to me.”
He remembers.
He remembers everything about you.
“I’m sure half of them will end up in your apartment though,” Caleb teases.
A glimpse of the Caleb you miss dearly comes up in that witty reply. With the lightheartedness of a remark and the smile of a cheeky young soul, you have to look at him to remind yourself that this is the colonel that wanted to keep you in his home, never to be seen by anybody else again.
Your mood doesn’t sour though. Instead, an idea appears in your head. Years and years of wondering, finally ending with one simple question.
“Can we visit the amusement park tomorrow?”
When Caleb’s brow raises with that small smile, you press Fairymare’s hands together. “Please, please, please?”
He must have seen something in your excitement, because for a split second, the violets of his eyes sparkle like newborn stars in nebulas. He’s no longer the man you grieve even as his feet walk the ground, no longer the unanswered questions you couldn’t ask.
He’s Caleb.
“You’re lucky I’m free tomorrow,” he says. “We can visit, for old time’s sake.”
You’re not quite comfortable to where you can hug him, but you can toss Fairymare over to his direction with all the happiness you have within you.
And in a very Caleb fashion, he catches it seamlessly.
Nostalgia drapes over both of you as the amusement park welcomes you to its liveliness.
Candy stands sit near almost every ride, and the exclusive plushie shop is just around the corner. Children run with cotton candy in their hands, screaming frantically as they approach another ride. You can’t imagine even sitting on the ride they chose, let alone stomaching the loops of it, but their happiness is infectious.
“Do you remember when you bought me cotton candy after we rode the ferris wheel?” you ask Caleb, whose eyes land on a particular ride with planes on it. “You made fun of me when my teeth turned pink.”
He looks at you, momentarily tilting his head as though the memory is hidden in a file in his head. “My teeth were blue, so we’re even.”
“But at least I didn’t laugh at you back then!”
He laughs now, the sound as lovely as the happiness surrounding you both. “Okay, okay. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Hmph.”
You pass by families playing bumper cars, teens on a high swing ride, and the emptiness of the ferris wheel. If Caleb wasn’t holding your hand, you would play hide and seek with him, hiding in the ferris wheel where he would easily find you.
“You’re thinking about running, aren’t you?” he asks.
You huff again. “Would you catch me if I did?”
A smile forms on Caleb’s face, and the newborn stars in his eyes die. It sends shivers down your spine, the way he looks at you like a subordinate and not the person he knows best.
But fear dissipates into excitement once the both of you arrive at the exclusive plushie store. Known for its expensive and one-of-a-kind plushies and trinkets, seldom does anybody visit this part of the amusement park.
“Caleb! Are those Fairymares free?”
You don’t wait for an answer before browsing the bucket with free or discounted plushies. Purple Fairymares are on top, but you take the white unicorn version sitting at the very bottom and the two sunny apples sitting beside it. A smiling red apple and a pouty green apple.
Caleb holds all of your new finds as you browse the shelves for the more expensive ones. Your joy clouds you from noticing the fearful glances directed towards him, recognition of the cold colonel filling their expressions.
But to you, he’s always been Caleb. The Caleb who’s paying for your new plushies, the Caleb who happily holds everything for you, the Caleb who’s so busy — so different — that he doesn’t even remember what today is.
“I’ve got…” you take a second to count the plushies in your hands. Ten. Ten plushies and all of them are special editions.
“And these are?” he asks. His eyes still have those familiar star-like sparks in them, but now they’re clouded with amusement as he takes his wallet from his back pocket.
“Your new friends! We’re going to decorate your apartment tomorrow!”
“Why can’t we decorate it tonight? I’m free.”
You tilt your penguin plushie’s head to display your confusion for you. “Because we’re going to be here all day.”
Caleb sighs. Not complaining, only relenting. “Okay, okay.”
You leave with three different tote bags filled to the brim with cuddly plushies. Caleb leaves without even a slight dent in his bank account, but judging by the sweat on his forehead, the warmth of the afternoon is getting to him.
Sitting on a bench close to the bumper cars, you enjoy the sweet comfort of the Sunny Apple as rest overtakes you both. A young couple sits on the other end, tasting ice cream and laughing at the screams from the high swing ride.
“That high swing ride isn’t as high as the one we rode as kids,” you whisper, Sunny Apple’s legs swinging as you bounce the plushie on his legs.
“Any higher and they would reach the stratosphere,” Caleb says dryly. You wouldn’t have believed it if you’d forgotten that Skyhaven is in, well, the sky. The ride suddenly feels too high, and only when the passengers walk out in one piece does your heart feel like it’s beating at a normal pace.
You don’t notice how you absentmindedly bounce Sunny Apple, nor do you notice how the couple glances at the way Caleb stares at you. If you weren’t so enamored by the ride, you would’ve seen the flicker of foreshadowing in their gazes, like they see their future sitting right beside them.
Nostalgia drapes over Caleb when he notices what you don’t.
“Hey,” he whispers. “You were getting distracted there.”
“Hm?” you blink before turning back to him. Your eyes momentarily get lost in his as his hand settles on your waist protectively. In his gaze you see realization, a past shared yet long forgotten. His eyes, which now dance on your parted lips, not only hold new stars but shine the old ones too.
This is Caleb.
You don’t have to be scared of him.
“Caleb,” you whisper, soft and breathless. Your hand touches the necklace you gave him all those years ago. When U Come Back, it says, and he has.
He has come back to you. Different, sure, but his heart is just the same as it was all those years ago.
And when Caleb’s lips touch yours for the first time, it feels like home and warmth and everything he’s always been to you. His hands land on your face, roughness learning how to be soft again as he carries all the love he’s had for you.
Such a happy birthday indeed.