9) Above and Below

I sit in the trees at home, too. I have a small room, but with only a hammock and a television it is much larger--larger, anyway, than an elevator. My room is on the ground and faces tall trees, thin, dark trees with thick, cracked bark on trunks naked to nearly the tops. I used to tire reaching the branches.

Something has changed at work. Hunter is one of the people there that talks to me. He talks to everyone. He talked to me today, in fiction in the morning. That is how I know something has changed.

"Hey, Beamer! Dude!" His mouth went up on one side, and I felt my heart beat a bit faster.

"Hello, Hunter." I never know what else to say, and Hunter just stared down at me with the grin. I watched his mouth for more words. "Do you have more to say?"

He looked at me a moment longer, then barked a "Ha!" laugh and looked briefly away. Then he bent and placed his hands on his knees, a posture I dislike, but by his face I knew that he was not about to talk to me in loud, simple, musical words. "Seriously!" he said. "Your blog?"

There is far to see from my tree, so high and so few other trees in the way, but not a lot to see, especially at night, when I am up there most often, when no one can see me and I am free to not wear pants--lights and streets, and on the sunrise side a glow from the city.

"What do you mean?"

Hunter glanced back and forth along the towering shelves and peeked through both sides. "Bold move!" he said to me, his eyes widening.

"What do you mean?" He was taking too long to make sense.

"What do I mean, what do I mean, what do I mean! Do you seriously have a crush on May?"

"I am in love with May. How do you know?"

"Beamer. Your blog. Everybody knows!" He leaned in very close. "And you are not in love!"