In The Sight of These Hills (Dolan Twins)

Sticks of the Sun

Chapter 31: Sticks of the Sun

"Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands-"

- "Morning Poem" by Mary Oliver

Separation anxiety was a weird thing. It was defined clinically by "the fear or distress that can happen to both children and adults when they think about separating from home or from the people they've become attached to." Symptoms can be being afraid of that attached figure getting harmed or leaving the suffer permanently. It could be characterized as the lack of basic concentration skills, the lack of paying attention or keeping a straight head.

Ethan felt as though he wasn't keeping a straight head.

He was thinking about eye color.

He was thinking about how Grayson's eyes had been yellow, and then amber. When they were yellow, he was all wolfy, but not the whole "I can talk. I can be an asshole. I'm going to chase you through the woods and sink my teeth into you" kind. He was protective, gentle. When his eyes were amber, though, he was monstrous. He wasn't himself at all. Was there a difference between the two? There had to be. He was trying to concentrate on that.

That was what Ethan was thinking while he looked down at the vials of amber liquid that Aaron had given him, his hand stilling over the plastic wrapped around it tight. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in and out slowly, letting his body calm down. He held it in his hands and bent over.

He hid the Monkshood in the same place that he had placed Grayson's picture that he had taken right before the homecoming dance. It was the one in which his eyes had reflected like that of a cat's. He shoved it deeply under the neatly folded socks and prayed silently that it wouldn't be found.

There was a knock and he straightened, throwing the door open.

"Ethan?" Sean said, and he placed his hands against the dresser's top, his thumb gracing one of the bright orange pumpkins that was looking at him.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking up at his father. His mouth was a fine line and his heart sunk a little. Had they found Grayson? No, that wasn't it. No one was finding Gray unless he wanted to be found. Did he know how much pain he was putting Ethan through? Ethan knew that Grayson had to be in his own pain without him being with him. He was all alone and-

Sean was talking to him and he hadn't even picked up on what he was saying.

"What?" He mumbled out halfway through.

Sean looked at him as though to say have you seriously not been listening to me?

"They want you to come in to be interviewed about Grayson."

Ethan felt his throat tighten and his eyes widened at that. What was he going to say about that? He suddenly imagined a dark room and a man smoking a cigar. He'd slam his hands on the table and say, "We all know you're guilty, dammit!" A shiver raced up his back and he sniffed.

"Okay," he said.

~

He was a shorter man, shorter than Ethan, but when he walked into the room that Ethan was in, the muscles of his body tightened at the sight of him. He wasn't dressed like a cop. That had to be the thing that caught his attention; he was in a tan sweater with basic blue jeans on. His salt and pepper hair was slicked part way back and he looked very homely. He looked like everyone's favorite uncle on some sitcom and, for a moment, the younger male wondered if he looked like that on purpose. He looked safe.