Near Touch

Chapter 10: Armistice

Amy's hand was hurting where she had held the cast iron knob of the dresser tightly for support, as she had collapsed. Flabbergasted by the sheer number of excruciatingly disturbing falls she had suffered through that night, Amy wanted to shout. But the deafening silence that had followed the lightning strike prevented her from doing so. Caleb involuntarily grinned, and neatly stepped over her knee, throwing himself on Amy's side of the bed.

"Any object coming right at me, come hell or high water, deviates and never lands a direct hit. It can be anything really, the rain, a football, a car, reckless girls..." he trailed off in a self-satisfied voice.

"I guess that is one of the many perks of your current state," Amy said, scathingly. That ought to shut him up nicely. She impatiently waited for her eyes to adjust to the absence of light. Slowly, she could distinguish familiar shapes in the blackness.

Amy shuffled to the corner of the bed and tried to sit –

"Not here, I am here!" Caleb whispered.

"Alright, you don't need to be such a baby," she muttered under her breath. Amy's rage still bubbled in her gut. Her recently hurt palm and butt were screaming for Caleb's head.

"Amy?" a sleepy drawl issued from the front of the door. "Are you talking to your friend again?"

"Hey Leigh, why aren't you in bed?" Amy asked. She shushed Caleb in the dark.

"The big explosion woke me up and then I couldn't switch the light on so I thought I might be in a bad dream. Then I heard your voice," Leigh yawned, drawing out the last bit of her late-night mumblings.

"You are pretty loud," Caleb mused.

"Leigh, meet Caleb. Caleb this is Leighton," Amy waved around, resigned. She wanted to distract her sister from her bad dreams. The availability of a basket case, make-believe circus freak seemed like her best shot.

"You didn't tell me he was invisible," Leigh squealed excitedly, falling for the bait. "Is he good-looking?"

"Devilishly," Caleb smirked haughtily. "I like your sister, can I trade you for her?"

"No Leigh, he has a massive head and a tiny body," Amy remarked, rolling her eyes, exasperated by the pointless exchange. "But he says he likes you."

"He doesn't even glow in the dark," Leigh complained. 

And just like that, the last bit of hot air wheezed out of Amy's anger balloon. "I am sure that wouldn't have helped," she laughed.

Her parents had appeared carrying candles, and looking oddly creepy like they belonged to a very old movie or something. Her father said, "This thunderstorm just keeps surprising me. I think it is done being extraordinarily destructive and bam, it proves me wrong." He stepped over a treacherous fold in the carpet beside a set of paints that Amy did not remember buying, and placed a candle on her bedside table, illuminating half of Caleb's smooth face.

"You guys know that we have flashlights in our phones, right?" Amy brandished hers in the air. It was high time that the ancients embraced modern technology.

"Ames-James, you know it's more flippin' this way," her father said, sheepishly. At least he was pretending to be brushed up on the awkward lingo that nobody ever used. Props to you Pops, she cringed internally.

"Are you guys ready to get back into bed?" Anne asked. She pointed at Amy, "And you, whoever you were yelling at over the phone can wait till tomorrow."

"C'mon, it's a school night. You need to sleep," Amy felt around for Leigh, who thought this was a golden opportunity for a fun nightly family session. She protested all the way until she was tucked under her blankets. Luckily, there would be no candlelit games of monopoly tonight.