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(TW: Implications/reference of abuse/child abuse)
I HAD ALWAYS ENJOYED being tasked with some sort of responsibility. It always seemed to make me feel older than I was and led me to believe that the adults saw me as such too. There's a high level of trust when someone approaches you and tasks you with some sort of job and, in my mind, an adult wouldn't put that trust in someone that they viewed as a child. They would put it in someone that they saw as their equal. So, when Dale approached me after climbing down from the top of his RV with an offer that he claimed only I could do, I felt overjoyed.
Dale always seemed to have a natural way of dealing with me that never made me feel like I was being talked down to or lectured. It surprised me when I learned that he never had children of his own. He seemed to have a paternal instinct built into him. An instinct that had the maturity of someone who had experience dealing with kids. But, I guess a genuine understanding of people would also allow for the same ability.
I watched Dale and Jim curiously through the binoculars Dale had left with me. My special job was to watch over the group from the RV, a job that Dale did every day. It was the best way to watch over everyone and ensure none of the monsters were nearby. The older man had simply told me that he had something to attend to. He hadn't specified what, and when I asked, he brushed me off with a caring smile and told me it was nothing serious, and that he'd return as quickly as he could.
Before he had come down and asked for my help, I had noticed him staring off in one direction for a while. It wasn't necessarily an uncommon thing, there have been days when an interesting bird would keep his attention, or he'd just watch off in a random direction staring off into the distance. But today it seemed different. He was staring off at what I had quickly learned was Jim, with a look of concern and puzzlement. He was worried and when he told me he had to take care of something, I knew it had to do with whatever he was staring at.
Jim was hard at work digging a shovel into the ground and not once stopping for a break. I assumed Dale had approached him intending to talk to him, but from the looks of it, they weren't having much of a conversation. Jim hadn't looked at the older man until he held out a canteen to him and, even then, it was a brief look before he went back to digging.
