The Light on the Horizon

4

The next day, I got up early, and took Dad's 200-dollar-fishing rod out of the cabinet in the garage where he keeps it locked up.

 I had to break the lock, but I don't think I'll ever get caught for it. I pedaled down to the creek where I spent all day fishing. Only when it started to get dark did I come home.

Lewis was in his room reading comic books. Cole's room was dark. 

I wasn't tired, but I laid down on my bed and looked up at the ceiling for a while.  Really faintly, I could make out the glow of the strange light on the horizon coming through the window and spreading its way through the patterns of the plaster swirls on the ceiling, pushing out the darkness until it seemed that my room was glowing bluish-white all on its own.

And then I noticed I was starting to glow bluish-white, too. 

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. 

I don't know if it worked.

At some point in the night, I got up and went to the window. 

Cole was standing at the bottom of the yard, peering through the slats of the fence that separates our yard from the field behind the houses on our street. I watched as he struggled over the fence and started making his way straight through the high grass towards the light on the horizon.

I watched his thin, dark little shadow start to stretch out behind him like a tail or a long black piece of cloth until it meshed with the black outlines of the tree-trunks and the roofs of the houses in the distance and I couldn't make out where he stopped and they started.

He didn't turn around. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look back, either.

He just went.

And only when I'd laid back down again did it occur to me that he'd forgotten to say good-bye.

Some time later, Lewis found me up in the attic, looking though some trunks.

"What are you doing? You know we're not supposed to be up here." He stood there watching me with his hand on the back of his head. 

"What are you looking for?" he asked after a while.

"Nothing."

"Then why . . . We're not supposed to be up here, Robbie. If Mom finds out, we'll get in trouble."

I couldn't stop myself and let the lid of the trunk I was holding fall with a loud bang that made Lewis jump.

"There isn't anybody here, Lewis!" I shouted. "Not even Cole's here anymore! Have you noticed? Cole's gone, too! And he's not coming back. You and I are the only ones here. Who are we going to get in trouble with, huh? Who's going to tell? Mr. Branigan next door? Who's going to know anything that we do and who is going to care if they did? We can do ANYTHING we want!"

"When Mom comes back. . ."

"MOM ISN'T COMING BACK," I screamed so loudly I even made myself jump a little bit. "They're GONE, Lewis. Mom and Dad and Cole. The only anybody left here is us. Get that through your stupid skull. "

Lewis' eyes started to get shiny with tears and he fled back down the attic stairs before I could say anything.  After a little bit, I could hear the thock-thock of the basketball hitting the backboard.

Later, I  looked out of the window of my room.

Lewis was at the fence at the back of the yard watching the light glowing far off on the horizon. He stood there for the longest time. Then turned away and came inside.