The day was overcast, and the air still held a chill this time of year, but sweat filmed his skin and stuck his shorts to his butt. He hadn’t gone running anywhere but on a treadmill for a while—since Caleb came into his life, actually. He’d gone almost five minutes without thinking about Caleb or Gray. A record. A flyer for a local pizza joint was stuffed in the crack between door and jamb. John ground his teeth as he pulled it loose. He got ads like this all the time, and they always annoyed him. Another piece of paper fell out from inside the folded ad. John picked it up as he headed inside, then paused, because this wasn’t the usual flimsy paper of the rest of the ad, but thicker, more like the kind in Caleb’s sketchbooks. As he unfolded it, his heart nearly stopped when he recognized Caleb’s handwriting. Hey Boy Scout, I don’t know if these people will pass this along to you or not. Shit, I’m not sure if I should even send it all, but I think you’ll do the right thing.
