Umber (75)

“Who are you?!” I squeaked.

He lowered his hood and, sounding a bit offended, said, “Don’t you recognize me?”

I shook my head.

“Well, maybe it’s the clothes,” he mumbled.  He cast his eyes upward and put his hands behind his back.  “How about now?”

I recognized the pose from the holy card.

I gaped at him, attempting in my half-awake state to say his name.

“Seb–Seb–”

“Yes, it’s me!  There’s something I think you should witness.  I promise to have you back before your family wakes up.”

He reached his hand toward me.  Surprised at my own lack of caution, I grasped it and asked, “Where are we going?”

“To Kearney.”

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