Page 27 of A Sea of Unspoken Things

He leaned forward, coming closer, and one of his knees came between mine. I looked down at it as another song started on the recordplayer. It was a stripped-down folk ballad that swelled softly in the air. That little bit of physical contact made me feel like a channel of electricity had opened in my veins.

“I should have been the one to call and tell you what happened,” he said.

The weight of the words bore down on me as he spoke them. It’s not what I had expected him to say. I may have been Johnny’s next of kin, but I knew that Micah was probably the first one they called when they found my brother. He’d been told before me. Maybe even hours before. But when the call finally came, it was a stranger’s voice on the other end.

“I should have told you myself. I should have gotten in the car and…” He trailed off.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I whispered.

He nodded, and I could only assume that he knew what I meant. The only thing I could imagine being worse than feeling the kind of pain I did in that moment was the idea of touching Micah’s pain at the same time. I didn’t know if either of us would have survived that.

“We haven’t talked about a funeral or anything,” he said, changing the subject. Though it didn’t feel any easier than the last. “We didn’t arrange anything after Johnny died because I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do. But Sadie offered to host something over at the diner. A memorial.”

“That would be nice.” I took another long drink.

He nodded, as though he was thinking the same horrible thought I was. That a memorial made all of this feel so final. So real. It was like an acceptance of what couldn’t be true.

I cleared my throat. “Amelia Travis asked about the ashes, and I told her she could send them to you.”

Micah stayed silent.

“I’m leaving soon. Thought it would be easier,” I offered as explanation.

“I’ll take care of it.” His words were a little hollow now. He didn’t sound angry, exactly, but I had a feeling that I knew what he was thinking. That I was putting it on him. That I wasn’t willing to deal with things. And I wasn’t. I couldn’t.

Micah stood, and as soon as the press of his leg against mine was gone, I found myself aching for it. He went to the dying fire, stoking the flames before he put on another log.

“So, how’s it going with the project?” he asked.

“Fine, I guess. I’m making my way through the paperwork and reports, and I’m still missing some of the images.”

“What are you missing?”

“A few photographs of one of Johnny’s subjects. I’m sure they’re all there, but his stuff is kind of a mess, like you said. I’m just narrowing down which images go to which location and all of that. I might have found a few I can use, but I need to compare them to other negatives and figure out where they’re from.”

“I don’t know if I’d be any help, but let me know if you get stuck on something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

I gave him a grateful smile, relaxing into the almost normal feeling between us. Even if it was fleeting.

“That reminds me.” I pushed the chair back from the table and went to the front door, where I’d left my bag. When I returned, he was back at the table, refilling our glasses.

I thumbed through the negatives and prints, pulling free the one I was looking for. Micah’s brow pinched when he saw it. It was the photograph of him I’d enlarged from the negatives I’d found at Johnny’s. Micah’s face was illuminated in shadowed angles, the edges of him gently blurred in the firelight.

“I found it in Johnny’s things. I thought you might want it.” I slid it across the table.

The muscle in his jaw ticked before he picked it up, face paling justa little. Maybe because of the strange sense I’d gotten when I saw it, too. Like I was looking through Johnny’s eyes.

“Do you remember it?” I asked.

He stared at it, thinking. “Maybe. We were probably just out at the fire pit behind your place having a couple of beers. There were a lot of nights like that.” For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something else but thought better of it.

“What?” I said.

Micah cleared his throat, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. He just had a way of seeing things, you know?”