I did not wish to lie.

I could not tell the truth.

So I composed a message that skimmed the narrow space between the two.

Parent_1, Parent_2:

I am okay.

I hope to return home soon. To see you again.

Please do not be concerned.

I am doing what I must do.

It is as simple/complicated as that.

01001001

I increased my velocity to catch up with the others. I thought about the tattered map in Emma’s backpack. The red dot. Our destination.

What would we find when we got there?

I stacked possibilities and probabilities in my head. I ranked them, rearranged them. But I was still no closer to finding an answer.

We continued our forward progress.

Sixteen kilometers to go.

Fifteen.

Fourteen.

We journeyed deeper into the mountains. Along a winding road, weaving between abandoned cars. When we reached a collapsed tunnel, we detoured up a hill and slowly climbed the steep/rocky terrain.

Eventually, we discovered an old human hiking trail. Over the years, nature and weather had worn away most of the trail. But not all of it. We could still find traces of the path.

Over streams and under fallen trees.

Through clusters of branches and around boulders.

Emma walked alongside us. When the sun was shining down, she used the umbrella from the mall to keep from getting a sunburn. When she grew tired, she climbed inside Ceeron’s backpack.

We traveled for a while in silence.

Then Ceeron spoke. Our conversation went like this:

Ceeron: Knock knock.

Me: Pardon?

Ceeron: Knock knock.

Me: Why do you keep saying that?

Ceeron: It is the beginning of a human joke. You must reply, “Who is there?”

Me: But I already know it is you.

Ceeron: You must say it anyway.

Me: Why?

Ceeron: That is part of the joke’s formula.

Me: Very well. Who is there?

Ceeron: Wooden shoe.

Me: But you are not a wooden shoe.

Ceeron: I am aware of that.

Me: Then why are you claiming to be a wooden shoe?

Ceeron: Because that is another part of the joke’s formula.

Me: Oh.

Ceeron: Now you are supposed to reply, “Wooden shoe who?”

Me: Okay. Should I say it now?

Ceeron: Wait. Let us repeat the process from the beginning. Knock knock.

Me: Who is there?

Ceeron: Wooden shoe.

Me: Wooden shoe who?

Ceeron: Wooden shoe like to know!

Silence.

Me: What happens now?

Ceeron: Nothing. That is the joke.

Me: What is the joke?

Ceeron: Wooden shoe like to know.

More silence.

Me: I thought jokes were supposed to be funny.

Ceeron: It is funny.

Me: How? The grammar is incorrect. It is about a wooden shoe with a mind. Which is a thing that has never existed. Also, humans did not make shoes out of wood.

Ceeron: What about clogs?

Me: Okay, fine! Shoes were not made out of wood except for clogs.

Ceeron: Thank you for acknowledging that.

Me: But the joke is still confusing.