• • • • •
As I follow Seth from a distance, I begin to think that he might be the only person who actually sees me. It’s an interesting thought to have, and maybe it has something to do with his being a photographer? His life is all about catching moments that others miss, finding those quiet and unobtrusive slices of life on a busy city street; or seeing those loud, unignorable cracks in a person that the person can’t see in himself.
But I also think Seth sees me in ways that aren’t visible to the eye, a way of seeing that requires truly listening, and being attentive, and stepping away from one’s own fleeting yet constant needs, in order to actually be there for someone else. Maybe I’m reading way too much into this, and I just feel terrible for not seeing Seth in a deeper, more meaningful way. How could I be so blind?
Seth walks in front of me with his head down. I don’t even know how to begin to salvage our friendship. I really messed things up.
We get into our sleeping bags, and I move around for a few seconds, listening to the nylon scratching.
“Tell me more about you,” I say.
“It’s okay, Charlie. I think I might just get some sleep.” Seth turns away from me and lies on his side.
Normally I don’t mind the silence, especially in the woods, but when I think about Seth no longer awake, anxiety washes over me. I am so small against the backdrop of the sky, and Seth is turned away from me. I am neglected, and it’s my own doing.
“Please don’t sleep,” I whisper.
“What?”
“I’d really love to know,” I say.
An occasional wheeze comes from Tickles as he sleeps away. Sometimes I’m jealous of animals who seem to be able to sleep no matter what is crumbling around them.
“It’s just . . . I think you’re only asking because you feel guilty. Because I brought it up. Not because you want to know.”
I put my hand on his cool shoulder. “I really want to know. We’re best friends, aren’t we?”
Seth is quiet a moment. He turns to face me and stares intently into my eyes. “Okay. Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you want to tell me.”
“Do you want to know why we’re in Whitehall? Why I showed up three weeks before school ended?”
I nod. “Only ever since you arrived.”
“My mom didn’t think Miles City was safe anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, without sounding too melodramatic, word got out that I was gay. . . . Long story about that. But basically I was dating the mayor’s son, and he wasn’t out, and anyway . . .” Seth shakes his head. “It’s kind of funny. So I start getting mysterious death threats. . . . I’m pretty sure Josh organized them. The mayor’s son. And they were freaking my mom out, but I figured they were mostly just scare tactics. But one day I went outside to leave for school and saw the words ‘death to faggots’ spray-painted on our garage door.”
“Jesus.” I can barely believe what I’m hearing.
“So my mom packed us up and we headed for the first place she found a job.”
“Whitehall.”
“Whitehall,” Seth repeats. “I kept trying to tell her that if we were already moving, we might as well go somewhere cool like Portland or Seattle. But she isn’t so keen on big cities.”
“I had no idea.”
Seth is quiet. “It’s not something I really enjoy sharing.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m literally in shock. “Who would do such a thing?”
Seth shrugs. “Someone who hates himself? I think I’m going to take some pictures.”
“But it’s dark out.”
“So it is.” Seth gets out of his sleeping bag and rifles through his backpack until he pulls out a camera case and a tripod.
Next to our sleeping bags he sets up his tripod and mounts his camera, before pointing it up to the sky. “You can get some really cool shots at night. Like, long-exposure stuff can even bring out the Milky Way.”
“Yeah. Haven’t you seen any of those kind of pictures? They’re all over online.”
“I’ll have to look.”
“I’ll show you one tonight—if I capture a good one. Actually, the camera can pick up things that the human eye would normally miss.”
“Seriously? So there could be a UFO right in front of us and we might not see it, but the camera would?” I say, getting out of my sleeping bag.
“I mean, probably not. But you never know.”
I stand, looking up at the sky. I almost can’t believe that a UFO could be right in front of my eyes, but then again, I can totally believe it. “Take a picture.”
“That’s what I’m working on.”
“No, like a quick snap, so we can see if there’s anything above us right now.”
“Well, it doesn’t quite work like that.”
“Oh. Well, how does it work?”
“Let me just take a long exposure, and we can see what we see.”
Seth adjusts the camera; he looks into the eye-hole thing. I don’t know what it’s called. I go pet Tickles and then untie him from the tree. I’m walking in circles with Tickles and occasionally stealing glances at Seth. The night gets longer. I pet Tickles again.
“Come look,” Seth finally says.
Looking at the screen on the back of the camera, I see a still shot of a ton of stars. And I can kind of see the Milky Way snaking its way through the center. I see lots of colors in the shot that I don’t see when I look up. Like purples and blues. But I don’t see the one thing I’m looking for.
“That’s an amazing photo.”
“Thanks,” says Seth, who looks at me and lingers a moment too long before turning back to his camera. “I’m going to try another one.”
His second shot is even better. It has deeper, more vibrant colors, and it has a better something . . . Seth calls it composition. But honestly, I think both shots are amazing, and as we are looking at his second picture on his camera, I see out of the corner of my eye a great flash. It is about as quick as a photo snap, but leaves a longer impression.
We both duck as it seems to buzz the tops of the trees, but it’s gone before either of us can get a good look at it.
Everything happens so quickly, and there is no crash landing, because we don’t hear anything, don’t see any debris or dust. In fact, it’s like nothing happened at all.
Except it did.
“What was that?” Seth asks, breathless. His eyes look wild. “Was it a shooting star? It was super, super close. We should be dead right now.”
I turn to him, my heart racing; I’m more nervous than I ever thought I’d be at this point. I’m almost frightened. “They’re here.”
Seth nervously asks, “Who’s here?”
“The aliens.”
And that’s when Tickles takes off into the woods.