Chapter 35 | SUNSET AND THE MEANING OF 'VAUGHN'

"What do you call a wolf that asks for directions?" I ask randomly, my voice breaking through the silence.

Vaughn looks up at me, brows furrowing. "What?"

His 'what?' isn't showing any interest in my joke, unfortunately. No, he's literally just asking me 'what?' because he's Vaughn. And Vaughn is confused.

I wonder if he even understands the concept of jokes...I can literally hear him saying something like, 'wOLvEs dOn't aSk fOr diRecTiOnS.'

Either way, I keep going and answer my own question. "A where wolf."

Silence.

I get no acknowledgment whatsoever. Vaughn's expression remains expressionless, and his voice remains unheard.

So, I hit him with the next one.

"What do you call a wolf that meditates?"

Silence.

"Aware wolf."

One of the wolves below bites at another one, but other than that, the silence remains.

Okay, I mean, I know both jokes had the same punchline, but really? I get no response to this one, either?

Fine. Time to tell the final and worst one yet.

"What do wolves do when they're hungry?" I ask, and after a few seconds, I lamely say: "They wolf down their food."

Vaughn stays quiet for a few moments as he stares at me, giving me the most unimpressed look.

"Tell me that's not what you looked so deep in thought for."

Well...

I start to snicker through my nose but quickly stop, not saying a word.

Am I really this immature, or am I just that bored?

Wait...

That would actually make an excellent title for my autobiography if I were to ever write one.

"For the past fifteen minutes, you've been looking quite serious and doing that scrunchy thing that you do with your eyebrows," he says. Then, he asks: "And the whole time, you were just making up terrible jokes?"

What? Scrunchy thing that I do with my eyebrows? I do a scrunchy thing with my eyebrows?

"...Well, I wasn't exactly making them up. I just remembered the ones I've already heard before."

"Still...those are the ones you remembered?"

"Hey," I say in light defensiveness, "you can only make fun of me for my jokes when you're able to make better ones. But right now, I'm not even sure if 'joke' is in your vocabulary. You've probably never said that word before now."

He raises an eyebrow, looking amused. "I can joke."

I laugh, "You're right, that was a pretty good one."

He shakes his head, and the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. And by slightly, I mean slightly. "Assuming that you know my personality, are we?"

My mind flashes back to when I basically said that exact same thing to him, and I immediately shut up.

I can't believe he just used my own words against me like that.

"Well, anyway," I say to change the subject. "What did one wolf say to another?"

Vaughn shakes his head again, and I smile, imagining his thoughts. 'Why is she like this? Of all the kinds of people in the world, John's niece had to be like this? Does she not know how bad her jokes are? Why is she this annoying?'

I deliver the punchline half-heartedly: "Howl's it goin'."

Vaughn closes his eyes momentarily as if he's trying to drown the sound of painful jokes out.

So I move on to the next one. "What do you call a lumberjack wolf?"

Sighing, he sits up a bit straighter and finally gives in to my annoying nature and accepts that he can't escape this. "What?" He asks.

"A timber wolf."

Silence.

"Wow, you're probably really fed up with me now, aren't you?" I nod.

"What does your name mean?" He asks randomly out of nowhere, and I pause.

Is he asking this to avoid my inquiry, or is he genuinely curious?

Either way, I appreciate being on the receiving end of questions for once. It gets tiring being the curious one.

"It basically holds the same meaning that the name 'Michael' does," I answer quietly, not wanting to get into the details of my name.

When I Google it, all I see is: 'boy's name.' And frankly, that's not very good for my self-esteem.

So before he can ask more about it, I decide to question him about his name. "And what does your name mean?"

He shifts, then, starting to look uncomfortable, and immediately I know that this going to be good.

And I'm surprised he even fits up here in this tree, to be honest. A giant in a tree? I've seen it all.

"Well...?" I prompt.

Scratching his chin, he hesitantly admits in his low voice: "Small."

I almost don't hear him at first, but now I want him to repeat what he said to make sure I heard him correctly. "What?"

"...It means 'little.'" He answers.

A smile starts to break out on my face, "No way."

"I'm not lying."

"That's gold, absolute gold."

He stays quiet, and I notice that the sun is starting to set now. More bright colors are flooding the sky, yet the wolves remain below us.

Thus, I decide to change the subject. "So how much longer do you think we'll have to stay up here for?"

Vaughn looks down at the wolves, then up at the sky.

"At least a few more hours."

"At least?" I sigh. "This sucks."

He nods absentmindedly, looking distracted by his own thoughts.

I, however, want to climb the tree higher to get a good view of the sunset, so I make sure my bag is secure to the side. Then I slowly and carefully stand up, gaining Vaughn's attention instantly.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

I look down at him from where I stand, "Can I not move around up here? Or will it interest the wolves too much?"

I meant for them to be earnest and legitimate questions, but I'm afraid that they somehow managed to come out sarcastic.

"You can move around," he states. "Just be careful."

"Always am," I smile, already beginning to climb up higher.

I make sure I always have one of my feet firmly placed on a sturdy limb at all times, swiftly making my way up the tree. Once I've gone as far as I can, I find an excellent spot to situate myself across a few limbs.

And the view? It's...beautiful. Through the very tip tops of the trees, I can see the sun setting over the horizon. Vivid colors of orange, pink, purple, and blue come together, mixing with the clouds in the sky to form a real-life painting: a work of art.

"Hey, you should come up here and see this," I call down to Vaughn.

I expect him to say something along the lines of, 'I'VE sEeN sUnSeTs bEfoRe,' but all I hear him faintly reply is: "I can see it from here."

I scoff lightly, muttering quietly to myself. Leave it to Vaughn to be content right where he is.

I was just trying to extend an olive branch of friendship. Or maybe 'a tree branch' is better fitting for this current situation.

Maybe he doesn't want to be friends.

That doesn't mean we still can't be allies or civil with each other to help find out what happened. Right?

I mean, let's be honest, if I weren't me...would I really want to be friends with me? Probably not.

However, my thoughts break off when a few moments later, I see the top of his head as he ascends the tree. And, as he comes climbing up to sit near me, maybe I purse my lips to hide my smile. Who knows?

"I thought you could see it from down there?" I ask him.

"I could."

I nod, deciding not to say anything.

I've never been the type to freak out and obsess over a pretty sunset, but I do appreciate them. And this particular moment? I've never climbed a tree this high before and along with seeing this view...

I feel like I'm honestly in the wild, and I love every second of it.

Plus, having a cute guy to hang out with isn't something I necessarily hate.

The wolves, though? Don't get me wrong, I think it's fantastic being so close to wolves and seeing them up close, but maybe not like...this. I think I'd prefer to view them with a wall and a window between us rather than in this particular situation.

Vaughn and I sit in silence, up in the tree as we watch the sun fall across the horizon. It's a...nice experience, I guess, for lack of a better word.

And then, it starts to slowly get darker and darker.

"You ever play chess?" I ask him randomly.

He shakes his head.

"No?" I ask, surprised. "Why not?"

"Never had the time or the interest."

"Well, I got a chess set."

"Why?"

"For entertainment. Can't exactly watch a lot of movies out here."

He doesn't say anything. He just sits next to me, seeming content as he scans the horizon, rifle resting on his lap.

So, I let my mind drift off as I start thinking back to the conversation between us, Roan, and Richard last week.

"So, how do you two know each other?"

"She's an old friend of my sister's."

Should I ask him about his sister, if he really does have one? Or not? I don't want to pry.

But at the same time...it'd be nice to know him a bit more, I guess.

I glance up from watching my hands fidget with the zipper of my coat, and see he's already watching me. "Go ahead and ask," he says.

I frown, "But you don't know what I'm going to ask, though."

"You have a personal question for me, it's not that hard to tell."

"How can you tell?" I question, avoiding asking the personal one.

"Before you ask me something personal, you get a conflicted look on your face like you're internally arguing with yourself if you should ask it. Also, you fiddle with your hands."

"Oh."

He's silent, waiting for my question.

"Do you really have a sister?"

He tilts his head to the side slightly, looking a bit surprised at my inquiry. Nonetheless, he nods once. "Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Siara."

"What's she like?"

He looks down, breaking eye contact. "I don't know what she's like now."

Oh. Well, it has been eight years, I'm guessing.

He continues on, "But before, she was argumentative. Sweet. Determined. Extremely stubborn and talkative. Had a way of always getting what she wanted, but was never mean."

I watch as his expression shifts from a nonexistent one to that of a homesick man reveling in the nostalgia of a former life. When he talks about his sister, he...he sounds sad, almost. But he looks happy.

"How old is she now?" I ask.

"When I left, she was fifteen."

I nod. So Vaughn's sister is twenty-three now.

We fall back into silence, and once again, I'm left to debate with myself.

I want to know where he stands with us conversing and being civil, but he won't tell me directly. So, the only way is to ask.

But, I don't really know how to go about asking that.

"Hey, Vaughn?"

He looks at me. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

I watch his eyebrows furrow slightly. "For?"

I shrug, "For harboring a fugitive, letting me stay with you, the list goes on."

He shakes his head lightly. "John was my friend. Of course I'd help you."

"How did you two even become friends, anyway?" I question. "I mean, it just seems slightly unbelievable."

"I haven't always been this quiet, Mikaere," he starts. "I used to be somewhat talkative. Like you."

Huh? Me? Talkative?

Oh, that's right.

I'm super chatty around him, so he thinks this is my personality around everyone.

Oops.

"...What happened?"

He sighs as he thinks of how to respond.

"I moved out here, particularly to avoid people," he glances at me pointedly, and I smile a bit sheepishly. Sorry. "But the longer I was away from them, the more content I got with staying silent and not saying anything."

"So when you first moved out here, you were still slightly conversational?" I ask, and he confirms my thoughts by nodding. So John wasn't friends with the man before me today, then. He was friends with the eighteen-year-old who just wanted to get away from whatever he had before.

"What did you and my uncle talk about?"

"He liked to ask a lot of questions. Much like you, actually." Vaughn answers in that low tone, with a slight smile.

Wait...

He's smiling?

It may not be a full-fledged one, but he's still smiling, nonetheless.

So, I smile also. "I guess I had one thing in common with John, then."

Vaughn tilts his head to the side, "I'm sure you two had more in common than you think."

"I don't know, maybe. Wouldn't be too sure about it, though."

"Did he really only write to you once a year?"

"Yeah. But, I got a few calls and emails once in a while, though, too."

"Were you close to any other family?"

I shake my head, "My father was an only child, and my mom didn't have any other siblings besides John."

"Grandparents?"

Not in the picture.

I simply allow my silence to answer his question.

My silence...what am I doing? Am I slowly becoming him? No!

So, I brightly suggest something to sound more like me again.

"Let's play twenty-one questions!"