Chapter 4 - The Boy From the Bus
Caleb hit me around the waist.
My ribs screamed.
I didn't care.
“Easy, buddy.”
“You came!”
“Apparently we both did.”
His mother rushed behind him.
“Caleb, careful! He's injured.”
Caleb immediately released me.
“You're hurt?”
“Just old.”
He grinned.
“You said forty-three isn't old.”
“I changed my mind.”
His mother was crying.
She took my hand.
“I don't know how to thank you.”
“You don't have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
She looked toward my family.
“My son was the last child on that bus.”
The room became quiet again.
Grant watched her.
She continued.
“He told me everyone was yelling for Dr. Cole to get out.”
I glanced at Caleb.
“You weren't supposed to remember that.”
“I remember everything.”
His mother smiled through tears.
“He said you wouldn't leave.”
Caleb looked at Grant.
“Are you his brother?”
Grant nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Caleb smiled.
“Your brother is really brave.”
Grant looked at me.
“I’m starting to figure that out.”
Caleb reached into his pocket.
“I made you something.”
He handed me a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
A child's drawing.
A yellow school bus.
Brown water.
A stick figure wearing a red vest.
Above us was a giant blue sky.
“You forgot my hair,” I said.
Caleb looked at my head.
“You don't have that much.”
The room exploded with laughter.
I stared at him.
“Traitor.”
He laughed.
My mother knelt beside him.
“Caleb, I'm Nathan's mother.”
His eyes widened.
“You're his mom?”
“I am.”
“He saved me.”
Mom looked up at me.
“I know.”
Caleb shook his head.
“No. I mean when everybody was scared.”
His voice became quieter.
“He kept talking.”
Mom listened.
“He told me to look at him instead of the water.”
My throat tightened.
Caleb continued.
“He said, ‘We only have to do the next thing.’”
Mom looked at me.
I remembered saying it.
Caleb had been shaking so badly he couldn't move.
So I gave him one instruction at a time.
Look at me.
Take my hand.
Move your foot.
Hold the strap.
Breathe.
The next thing.
Always the next thing.
Caleb's mother hugged me.
Then they joined the party.
Grant approached.
“What did you mean?”
“About what?”
“The next thing.”
“Fear makes people think about everything that can go wrong.”
I folded Caleb's drawing.
“Sometimes you survive by focusing on the next thing you can control.”
Grant nodded.
Then his phone buzzed.
He checked it.
His face changed.
“What?”
He turned the screen toward me.
A business news alert.
His company.
COLE INDUSTRIAL SYSTEMS.
The headline mentioned a federal investigation.
“Grant?”
He stepped away.
“I need to make a call.”
Mom noticed.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Grant answered his phone.
“David?”
His expression changed almost immediately.
“What do you mean they froze the contract?”
Olivia and I exchanged a look.
Grant walked toward the hallway.
“No. Listen to me. Do not send anything until I get there.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Company problem.”
“What kind?”
“Nothing you can help with.”
There it was again.
Pride.
Except this time, I didn't let him walk away.
“Grant.”
He stopped.
“What?”
“Look at me.”
He did.
“What's the next thing?”
His face slowly changed.
He understood.
For the first time that night, my older brother stopped pretending.
“Our biggest government contract may have been compromised.”
“How?”
“One of my executives falsified safety reports.”
Mom gasped.
Grant continued.
“If the reports are real, we could lose the company.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I think so.”
“Then that's the next thing.”
Grant stared at me.
“You'd help me?”
“I won't interfere with an investigation.”
“I know.”
“But I'll stand beside you while you tell the truth.”
His eyes dropped.
“After what I said to you?”
“You're still my brother.”
Grant swallowed.
Then quietly said:
May you like
“I'm sorry.”
This time, I believed him.
