Rob Thurman: Nightlife

Moving up beside me, Rafferty watched as his cousin ran. "He's happy." He sounded surprised as he said it, but a wistfulness was there as well.

"Take it from me, Raff." I bumped my shoulder against his. "You can't choose who you are. No matter how you struggle, some things will never change. And maybe they shouldn't." They were difficult words and it'd taken me a long, long time to truly understand them. "You might be able to return Catcher to who he was—I don't know. But for now? Enjoy him for who he is." And allow him to enjoy it as well , I finished silently.

Catcher chose that moment to return, and this time the Frisbee was offered solemnly to Rafferty. As the air hung still, gold eyes met amber. Something passed between them, something private and as mysterious as the moon. I couldn't say what it was, but Rafferty reached out hesitantly and took the toy. He ran his hand along the rim, fingers brushing the plastic, and then, finally, he threw it. In an instant Catcher spun and was gone after it. Rafferty smiled. It was laced with sorrow, but it was a smile that had managed to slip a chain or two. Sometimes that's the best you can hope for.

I watched Catcher cavort under a scarlet sky and marveled at the beauty of him. He might not be a human, but neither was he a monster. The lack of one didn't necessarily equal the other. There was something so simple about that, yet it had taken me until now to figure it out. Catcher was no monster.

And neither was I.

Rob Thurman lives in Indiana. Nightlife is Rob's first novel. Visit the author on the Web at www.robthurman.net.