So for Operation: Probably a Huge Mistake but Fuck It, Kaveh decided to bring the minimum that he thought he’d need in the Land Rover, hide it near the side of the road, park the Land Rover in a small, populated area inside the park, and then hike the few miles back into the woods and move his “package” into the cave from there.

For his “package drop” in the Land Rover, he packed ten gallons of water, several types of organic soap (from floor soap to dishwasher detergent to shower gel), two big packs of paper towels, a box of garbage bags, thick plastic gloves (four pairs), a mop, a broom, about twenty of those giant fluffy disposable sponges that his dad used to wash his cars (the kind that don’t leave a scratch), three battery-powered lanterns, two empty plastic buckets, various and sundry other supplies, and some snacks. Once the package was dropped, he returned to civilization, parked the Land Rover, and then began his hike.

Ampersand had chosen a state park to hole up in, so there were plenty of trails that went relatively close to where Kaveh needed to go before he needed to start off-roading and use a compass. He started at around 9:00 a.m., and though he figured the hike would take around two hours, it took close to three. Eventually, he found his package, still hidden and untouched, and he began the process of package delivery, which took almost another hour, as the cave was about a ten-minute walk from where he’d dropped the supplies and it took him about three trips. On the first trip, with as much as he could carry in hand, he marched into the cave, and there was Enola, his eyes alert and clearer than he’d yet seen them.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m here to clean you up.”

Enola, who had previously been rather, well, chatty, did not respond. Without another word, Kaveh departed for round two.

By round three, he was famished. He’d tried to load up on calories at Subway before he left, but he’d burned through that fuel, and the only thing he had left on him that wasn’t nonperishable was a turkey-and-cheese sandwich.

“Okay,” he said, turning a bucket upside down and using it as a seat. He took a big bite of the sandwich and sat down in front of Enola so he could see him fully. “Where do we start?”

The glow of Enola’s eyes was incredible. It seemed to sharpen and fluctuate with whatever he was focusing on. But at the same time, it was hard not to read anxiety in those eyes, fear even. Enola could hardly move, but he was clearly trying to, wriggling uncomfortably.

Kaveh took another bite of the sandwich. “You’re not going to talk to me today?”