Just to Hold You Close and Tight

I was brought back to consciousness by something touching my arm. Actually, it was someone gently gripping the blanket around my arm. Almost panicked, I put my other hand where the unknown hand should have been, only to feel nothing. I pulled away automatically.

“Calm down, it’s just me,” Ray said. I searched the darkness, but I couldn’t find his face. Finally, my eyes adjusted, and I made out his shape in the faint starlight.

I still felt something holding my arm. Part of me knew it was him, but the other part knew it was impossible. Once my eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, I stared in awe at the hand that gently held the blanket around my arm. “How?” I whispered.

“It’s the blanket,” he whispered back, although he had no reason to be quiet. “I’m touching the blanket, not you.”

I nodded, but I felt the pressure of his hand. I felt it, and it filled me with some strong emotion I did not fully recognize.

Ray wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. “Come on. I woke you up, like you wanted me to.” Letting go of my arm, he stepped back.

I sighed quietly when he let go, but I hopped out of my bed. I grabbed the sleeping bags, and we both walked in complete silence all the way to the park and along the path.

I wondered why my arm was still tingling, and I ignored the fact that I craved more. If his touch through a blanked left me tingling, I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if he could actually touch me, skin on skin. Frowning, I reminded myself that he never could.

When we made it to our destination, I set out our sleeping bags. I put them right next to each other, so that they were touching, and climbed into mine.

Ray crawled into his and looked up at the sky, laying flat on his back.

I didn’t want to look at the sky. I turned on my side and rested my chin on my hand, which I propped up with my elbow. “I didn’t know you could,” I whispered, almost worried that he wouldn’t know what I was talking about.

I had no reason to worry. He knew instantly, and said, “Neither did I. That was when I decided to try.” He continued to look at the stars.

“Why is a blanket different than clothes?” I asked.

Ray shrugged, saying, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

A seed of home appeared in my mind, and I blurted, “I wonder if it works both ways.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me as I reached out and pushed where the sleeping bag covered his right arm. However, when I pushed, the sleeping bag moved down, as if it only contained air. When I let go, it took the shape of Ray’s arm again.

His face twisted in pain. “I thought it would be like that,” he said. Still avoiding my eyes, he got out of his sleeping bag and lay on top of it. So he had known I would have wanted to test the theory, but he had guessed the conclusion correctly.

“I don’t care,” I said, half lying. “At least you can touch me.”

At last, he turned to me, the agony glinting in his eyes. “No, I can’t,” he said softly. “Not even close.” He raised his hand and brought it to my cheek. Although neither of us felt a thing, he stroked my face. Looking defeated, he dropped his hand and looked away from me.

I knew I felt just as defeated as he did. Despite this, I moved my sleeping bag closer to him, so that I was pressed against him. Apparently I could feel him through my sleeping bag. I positioned myself so that my arm was against his, and moved my head to his sleeping bag.

Ray didn’t protest. He looked back at me. Although his eyes were still sad, he smiled faintly as he put his hand on top of my hand, which was inside my sleeping bag.

I fell asleep the closest I could get to touching Ray.