“Tap once for yes, twice for no,”
“Tap once for yes, twice for no,” I said. “Can you do that?”
Thud.
It was on the stairs below me . . . but not too far below. Five steps down, six or seven at most. Not quite close enough to touch if I should reach out and wave my hand in the black basement air . . . a thing I could imagine, but not actually imagine doing.
“Are you . . .” My voice trailed off. There was simply no strength in my diaphragm. Chilly air lay on my chest like a flatiron. I gathered all my will and tried again. “Are you Jo?”
Thud. That soft fist on the insulation. A pause, and then: Thud-thud.
Yes and no.
Then, with no idea why I was asking such an inane question: “Are the owls down here?”
Thud-thud.
“Do you know where they are?”
Thud.
“Should I look for them?”
Thud! Very hard.
