Exchange Rate by Bonnie R. Paulson Page A

backdrop for the lights had turned whitish-blue, the bulbs clicked off, leaving so much in shadow. I blinked at the natural contrasts I’d grown used to, taken for granted.
    Sometime during the night, I’d shimmied from under the weight of my pack and used its bulky form as a pillow while clinging to Bodey’s hand. We were on the precipice of something – big. But I couldn’t pinpoint what, or even if it was good or bad.
    John pushed himself to a sitting position. “Kelly, you up?” He always seemed to know by my breathing or something that I wasn’t asleep.
    I lifted myself to my elbows, loose hair slipping past my shoulder and swinging in front of my face. “Yeah.” My voice didn’t need to be loud to carry the short distance to John. His bloodshot eyes gave away his lack of sleep as well.
    “We’ll stay on top of it in there, okay? I know you’re worried about this being like the last camp you were in.” He seemed to read my mind, seeing my worry and fear and I hadn’t even admitted them fully to myself. “I promise, I won’t let anyone harm you or Bodey, okay?”
    I nodded shortly. He couldn’t promise something like that, but the fact that he did made me feel better because John kept his promises – no matter what. “Thanks, John.” I couldn’t tell him everything swelling in my chest – my gratitude he had taken me under his wing without questions, love for his complete acceptance of me into his family, trust in him, acceptance, and respect for him as a man.
    Birds chirped with the rising of the sun and the forest seemed to rustle off its sleep, stretching for the day.
    The summer hadn’t been too hot or dry. Fortunately, the fall crept in with respect and didn’t leave us with too warm of days or too cold of nights. In an evergreen forest, the various colored leaves and foliage would be lower than all the branches and needles of the trees. But the golds, oranges, and reds were just beginning to peek around the edges and cooler air made itself known with sporadic bursts on the back of my neck.
    “When do you think we can go in?” John glanced over his shoulder toward the compound we’d left outside the forest.
    Small talk didn’t come naturally to either him or me, yet I understood his need to talk out of nervousness. He talked his worries out, planned verbally after he thought things through as carefully as possible.
    I shrugged. “Probably whenever we want to. I doubt they have guards only on during the night or something. I guess the question is when do we want to?” I had a sinking sensation that was exactly what he was asking.
    He wanted me to ask so when he volunteered a time he wasn’t telling us, he was just answering my question.
    The man was tricky, but he made me laugh.
    Bodey pushed up, rubbing at his eyes. He yawned. “Time to get up already?” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his bent legs, the muscles of his forearms rippling when he flexed his hands and cracked his knuckles. “That bread was filling.” He smiled at me, his blue eyes startling in the morning light.
    “We were discussing when we want to try to go inside. Do you have a preference?” John asked formally. In a moment he would casually drop his suggestion. He hadn’t answered my question which probably meant any minute. He’d ask us to pack up and get to the gate.
    Bodey shrugged, the round of his shoulders smoothing out with his stretch. “Not really. I just want to figure out, if we’re staying or going so I’m not in limbo.”
    Limbo.
    My husband found the exact word to describe where we’d been for so long. We had been traveling and making camp and moving long enough, I’d forgotten what settled somewhere meant. How would I make my mark in a momentary home?
    Even the flooring warehouse had been temporary, we’d always known that.
    I glanced between father and son, rolling my eyes as Bodey and John waited to see what the other was thinking.
    Rocking to my feet, I bent down and grabbed