His wife was no longer smiling.
The journalist continued.
“I have been working on this story for eight months.”
The man looked terrified.
“When were you going to publish?”
“It’s ready.”
His face changed again.
“I’ll give them the seats.”
“Yes,” she said.
“You will.”
He stood.
He and his wife immediately gathered their belongings.
Before leaving, he looked at Caleb.
“I’m sorry.”
Caleb simply said,
“Okay.”
Not because everything was suddenly forgiven.
That was just Caleb.
The couple moved.
The usher, who had witnessed the entire scene, stepped aside.
I placed my hand on Caleb’s shoulder.
“Ready?”
He looked toward the field.
“Are these really our seats now?”
“They were always our seats.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
I positioned his wheelchair in the designated space.
Then sat beside him.
Caleb stared across the field.
“The grass looks different in real life.”
Behind us, the elderly woman returned to her seat.
