E. Egg's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

Jamie was gone. E. Egg sat in the wildflowers with the bracelet closed in his palm. The field was quiet, but he knew the quiet would not last. The hunters always came back for a second sweep — the stragglers, the ones checking for missed eggs. He had maybe ten minutes. He opened his hand. The wooden bracelet lay across his palm, warm from his grip. Jamie's initials were carved into one bead. He needed to move. He knew three good spots from here: the shadow under the outbuilding eaves, a hollow behind the wild roses, and a thick patch of grass near the old wooden platform. Any of them would work. He had chosen new spots before. It was not hard. He did not move. His fingers closed around the bracelet again. If he crawled into the rose hollow, would she know to look there? She had found him in the clearing yesterday without asking. She had found him every year. But she was not here now. She was walking home, or already home, or somewhere he could not picture. For next time, she had said. Next time meant she believed there would be one. He was not sure he did. Voices drifted from the far edge of the field. A child laughed. A basket knocked against a knee. Closer than he expected. E. Egg looked at the wild rose hollow. He looked at the platform grass. His legs would not choose. The bracelet was heavy in a way wood should not be. He understood, sitting there, that the problem was not where to hide. The problem was that hiding had always meant Jamie knowing. Without that, every spot was the same spot. Every spot was just grass. The voices came closer. A boy called out about a pink egg near the fence. E. Egg pressed the bracelet against his chest and made himself decide. Not the roses. Not the platform. He stayed. He flattened himself into the wildflowers where Jamie had left him, where she had tucked the bracelet into the grass, and he pulled the tall stems around his shoulders. If she came back, this was where she would look first. He would make that true by being here. A hunter passed within arm's reach. E. Egg did not scream. He held his breath and watched a yellow petal shake near his face. The boy bent, picked up a candy wrapper, frowned, and moved on. The footsteps faded. E. Egg let out his breath. His hiding spot was chosen now, not by safety but by her. He had given up the freedom to move. He had traded it for a place she could find. The grass held him. The bracelet stayed in his fist. He did not know when next time was. He only knew he would be here when it came.