When All is Null and Void

Chapter Fourteen

"Describe it." Alexander was now at Caleb's side.

"I felt like someone put a hook around my belly button and pulled." He patted a spot just above his belly button.

"Good. That's good!" Alexander said. "We'll try for a few more minutes, then call it a day."

"Fine with me," Caleb replied. He was shivering and goosebumps pocked his body like brand new skin. Determined to feel the tug in his gut again, Caleb trained his eyes on the grass, but as the minutes passed by, and he went cross eyed with concentration, he felt nothing but the patter of rain on his head. The blades of grass wiggled and bent against the wind, and Caleb's hair was plastered to his nose. Alexander was a drenched statue. A rustling in the trees broke Caleb's attention and he loosed a tight breath.

"We'll pick this up again tomorrow," Alexander said, walking back up to the house. "You did a good job! I'm proud."

Sunshine that had nothing to do with his ring bloomed in Caleb's chest. Alexander's words were sincere, even though Caleb had done nothing but stare at the grass for an hour.

Once inside, both Alexander and Caleb announced they were going to shower. Caleb went upstairs while Alexander went back to his bedroom. Caleb had never been one to shower twice in a day, but then again he'd never really been one to exercise, either. Caleb's entire body itched under the steady stream of hot water. He had no water limit; it just kept pouring out the same, steam filled waterfall.

After the shower he scrubbed off the foggy mirror with his towel. He used his fingers to untangle knots out of his hair, and then flicked the water droplets away. Staring at his reflection, Caleb realized how exhausted he looked. Was there such thing at Time lag? Gray bags had formed below his eyes.

Alexander was tinkering about in the kitchen when Caleb thumped down the stairs in a pair of "joggers" and a green t-shirt.

"How does spaghetti sound for dinner?" Alexander poked his head over the fridge door.

"What time is it?" Caleb asked.

"It's a bit after one," Alexander said. "So, spaghetti?"

Caleb looked at the clock on the wall. "We spent so much time outside."

"Had to give you time to practice your concentration." Alexander pulled a jar of marinara out of the fridge and wiggled it in Caleb's direction.

"Sure," Caleb said.

+++

On the second day of practice, Caleb still couldn't accomplish a Hop. He started to close his eyes to imagine the patch of grass he was supposed to land on. His concentration kept breaking. On the fifth try, his eyes flicked open because of one thought: burning.

"What?" Alexander asked. "Did you feel something?"

"No," Caleb said in exasperation. Every muscle in his body protested at the slightest provocation. After having to run and so more exercises in this state, Caleb was in a bad mood. "What if I catch on fire?" He was probably being stupid, but with his overall mental state, the thought plagued him.

"Oh, don't think about that." Alexander scratched his chin. "It won't happen, I'm sure."

Don't think about it? "I could die?" Caleb attempted.

"Doubtful," Alexander waved the thought away.

Concentrating, even through his dour thoughts, Caleb stomach tugged. His feet left the ground, and, when he could open his eyes, Caleb had a sharp pain in his left elbow. He was nowhere near where he'd been, nor where he was supposed to be. Blood pooled in his palm as it trickled from a gash in the crook of his arm.