The Dead Scout's Handbook of Afterlife Survival

Chapter Three: Airplanes and other Things that Fly

For his next presentation, Cayden's father didn't show. After the Scoutmaster called the big laboratory, he had a talk with Cayden about uncertainty and--breaking from the traditions of responsible parenting--Cayden gave the same talk to his mother. He laced his side of the conversation with a tinge more pre-adolescent hopelessness. After all, 'presumed dead' seemed to trump any words preceding it. Cayden's mother didn't seem as broken up about it, but people handle loss in different ways. Ample phone usage happened to be her way.

Months passed and with them came visits from a man with bags under his eyes, much like Cayden's mother. He bore the face of an unrested soul, yet despite all those hours awake, he never found time to clear the stubble off his chin. His voice carried a funny twist, where he would drink cawfee, and pawk his caw, and he tawked incessantly about his city whenever the television or radio or nobody at all mentioned it. When the cawfee man and Cayden bonded, it was less the stuck-together-like-glue sort and more the try-a-dozen-adhesives-and-none-of-them-work-so-you-promise-yourself-that-you-won't-bump-anything-the-wrong-way-and-call-it-a-day sort. That and many other concerns aside, Cayden's mother seemed satisfied, so they relocated to a very big city with very big buildings and very small apartments. It ended both Cayden's days in the Scouts as well as his friendship with Charlie when his mother misplaced their letters.

New acquaintances proved elusive, even after joining the baseball team. In little time, Cayden discovered most boys lacked passion for the outdoors; the dugout served as a platform to gush over video games, sports, and any other form of competition they found. It all boiled down to what they loved: winning. And unfortunately, Cayden hadn't spent his life learning how to be a winner.

Cayden did keep his merit badges close, only in spirit though, as his mother happened to misplace those during the move as well. Even the Badge of Communication rested peacefully in a distant landfill. So Cayden kept a mental tally of his accomplishments and even sewed new badges in his ever-blossoming imagination: the Badge of First Baseball Game, the Badge of Passing 8th Grade, and the Badge of First Girlfriend.

Considering such, Cayden had someone to care for: an aloof girl named Sarah. Sarah stood up to Cayden's bullies almost daily. In return, he paid with his friendship, something he never gave any value let alone enough to compensate a bodyguard. Cayden's mother was also present in body and mind for the next two years; she took him to parks and involved him in whatever measly outdoor activities the city could muster. She gained weight on her otherwise skeletal figure and squandered fewer hours in her room. The bags faded into her eyelids, however, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes weren't as prominent as they used to be when she smiled.

The days and weeks moved along with frequent visits from Sarah, though Cayden missed hiking and kayaking and especially lighting the campfire. So with time, his disappointment twisted into a subdued malcontent, his mother's response to which would forever be: "you can't always get what you want." Such an expression was a gospel for the life of Cayden Caldwell, a forgettable endeavor befitting one grain of salt in the great melting pot.

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Cayden snapped awake to the intercom crackling and his groggy gaze found Sarah's hand in his.

"This is your captain speaking. We're looking at an arrival in roughly 75 minutes in the lovely town of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The current temperature is -30, beating Chicago's measly -20. If you thought it was cold before, you're in for a treat"

Sarah rolled her eyes as Toby gazed out the window. Cayden leaned over Sarah's lap and made two attempts to tap his half-brother's shoulder. "Are you excited for Wyoming, Toby?"