Camp camp short stories!

Daniel...?( part 1)

A chill breeze ruffled Daniel's soft hair. Discreetly, he pulled his jacket a little tighter around his slight shoulders, turning his collar up against the cold. His mother walked beside him, hair tied back in a long elegant braid. For a while, they said nothing, but Daniel had the sense that there was something his mother desperately wanted to say. Still, the silence stretched on, longer than the shadows of the trees clinging to the edges of the compound's residential sector.

It was not a comfortable silence.

Daniel felt his mother's eyes periodically flick over to him, as if trying to determine his reaction to the thoughts she planned to share. Or perhaps, to determine whether to share those thoughts at all. Or maybe she just wanted reassurance. Reassurance that Daniel was still there, that he hadn't disappeared in the short time her eyes had strayed from him.

The breeze pushed over grass, bent the stems of flowers, pushed against songbirds in flight. Daniel and his mother walked. High above, the clouds swirled and swayed in an intricate and wild dance. Daniel could feel that same energy flowing off of his mother. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

The sun dipped lower, and the nightly orchestra struck up its regular tune. Crickets chirped, a constant low hum underneath the distant hoots of owls and occasional interjection from a coyote. Individual trees were hard to make out; only the tree line — as a whole, as one living unit — was discernible in the near-darkness. Lights were coming on in the houses far behind them, spilling out onto the street and into backyards as parents called their children inside for dinner, or more likely, for bed.

"We should return home," Daniel said, softly, almost inaudibly.

His mother did not respond immediately. For a moment, Daniel was concerned. He wasn't sure exactly what about, but he felt the nervousness nonetheless. At last, she spoke, her voice sounding tight and unsure.

"Danny, have you ever thought about what it would be like outside of the compound?"

Daniel was taken aback. Momentarily speechless, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish gulping air. He hadn't been expecting that question, hadn't considered anything like it as a possible topic for his mother to broach. What was the meaning of this? Where had it come from? His mother had never expressed any interest in anything but her life in the compound, in anything but her family, her community, and, of course, their religion.

No, he must have misheard.

"Have I ever what?" Although Daniel tried to keep his voice steady, it wavered, betraying his confusion — and his fear. He could not see his mother's face, but he imagined her expression must be one of motherly concern, could see the slightly downturned lips, the furrowed brow, the round, searching eyes. Again, his mother took a moment to respond.

"Danny, have you ever... considered the possibilities..." she trailed off, her voice disappearing into the background of night creatures singing their simple tunes.

They continued walking, soft earth giving slightly under their thick-soled shoes. Fireflies swirled in lazy clouds to the front, back, and sides of them, never too close. Never too close to be caught. To be caught, and placed in a jar to be put on the kitchen windowsill, sitting there until their tiny black bodies fell to the bottom, legs curling up miserably as they expired. No, never that close.

The sun had almost completely slipped beneath the horizon by the time his mother found her voice again. "Danny, what I'm trying to say is, I — that is, your father and I — have been talking recently and... Well, we've been having some very serious conversations. About the compound. About this life. Did you know, neither of us were born here?"