(It's) Always There
Copyright© 2026 by Daniel Tors
Chapter 12
Dumb or brave ... Or how about dumb and brave? They had little bodies probably less than a ten-thousandth her size, only a tiny speck of it to work as the brain guiding them through their whole life, but the point of nature was to cram as much usefulness as possible into what space was there. Those glowbugs’ dichromatic perception of her colors didn’t need to send alarms like orange usually did for people because, as noted, the big scary tiger was big and scary enough for them to notice without being told, “By the way, that moving animal-thing over there which could easily kill you is a bright color! And bright colors are bad.” So when they were all acting brave already by using their glowy blinkers in the night and some of them approached a big monster, Navy wanted only to think of them as being courageous, courteous, and ... only a little stupid. Navy wanted to imagine them thinking over and over while they fluttered nearby, “Nice? Mate? Friend? Safe?”
It was likely they thought that. Navy wished they didn’t have to wonder anymore.
... Case stood leaning at the recliner’s back, facing the front window and away from her. The home was so small he and Hane would have to try to meaningfully distance themselves from anyone. Navy sat equidistant from them both.
Because of his post Case was at least consistently aware of the fireflies, doubt clouding whether he wanted to watch them ... and so Navy tried to interest, “You ... Did you know they shine at night because it reminds birds how bad they taste?”
The words spoken were heard. He didn’t respond.
“They’re not poisonous, they’re just unpleasant. And, glowing at night shows the other fireflies who’d be a good mate. The boy ones fly and the girl ones do it lower to the ground – that’s how you can tell the difference.” In trying to relay some point about them she’d mostly just stated bug facts, floundering not helped by talking to Case while actively, quietly watched by Hane.
The words spoken were heard. A look over the shoulder was all she got; then, devoid of feeling or fervor of any kind, he went to one of the two places he could be alone, and closed himself in. It should’ve been clear to him – really it was, since he’s smart – that Navy was trying to talk to him. Oddity of trying to do it with bugs aside, that’s what she was going for. It hurt her feelings he wasn’t concerned enough about her to invite more talking; and it was her trying to help him but getting shut out that ached and confused the most.
What concept of a conversation she had in her head and Case in his wasn’t the kind to be had out in front of others. It was personal.
... In the best interest of them, Navy attended herself to where he went.
He was by the window again, revealed a peek, this time by the bed’s post. She knew her presence was already observed, so entered without asking, door closed gently behind her. Seeing him wasn’t outwardly all that different from usual except for how Navy felt about him, knowing at the peak of her thoughts and the center of her chest that she ought to be careful with what was said. They were good friends, and she didn’t want that to stop.
Attempting to talk stably, she prodded, “Do you want to talk?” a dry lump in her throat heavy as iron refusing to move all throughout and after.
Case said easily, “About what?”
“It doesn’t have to be anything specific. Just ... something – whatever you want to.” Her offer continued after an unrequited beat, “What me and you are thinking isn’t that different, I’d guess. That’s just an assumption ... but I can help if you want me to.”
That wasn’t enough to get a response, verbal or any other kind. She thought it was pretty straightforward what she was saying; his silence said otherwise. Navy, going by reason that a suggestion was there but not its direction, considered it right as the asker to guide things first then let him take it from there – if he wanted.
Hurting to put the words out, Navy toughed through it. “When mum was upset – I started doing this when I was seven, I think, and didn’t ever stop – and I mean really upset which she got sometimes, I’d read out loud. She’d talk a lot quieter and not as much, it wasn’t usually consistent when or why or if I did something, and she’d never let me see more than that or talk about any of it, especially when I was little. But I read out loud to make her feel better, because that’s all she’d let me do...”
...
Deafening came his silence.
“ ... Or we can not say anything and just stay here together. That’s fine too.”
Case refused to look at her, or even acknowledge she was there. In some manners she understood him wanting to say naught and do just the same, permitting it to all fade while what thought he had and she couldn’t know were the only things he paid attention to. Maybe he wasn’t thinking of anything. Maybe he wanted to watch the fireflies outside, or contemplated her words and what she’d intended behind them even if it didn’t seem that way. Unknowable numbers of things could be in his head ... and she wanted them to do that together
It wouldn’t work if she stood waiting. He wouldn’t feel better if she didn’t speak her mind.
Navy had to do it. She had to. She had to make it happen.
“ ... Case? Can you look at me?”
The wolf did. His look was the same.
“You weren’t ... I...” Do it. “I know you picked the library for us to stay at ... and I know why, and I know what you’re thinking because of what happened, but it’s not your fault. Lots of things made that happen which weren’t you ... and you weren’t the only one there. We can– ... I want to talk about it with you or do whatever else you want to ... and it’s a lot easier for me to help if you say how.”
Finally, it looked like he was listening.
Case told her in monotone, “I should’ve locked the door.”
Before he could turn away, Navy pointed out, “But you didn’t.”
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