# Interlude — Chapter 03: Caleb’s Coil
Caleb uncoils a salvaged length of copper and runs it along the eaves like a lazy river. He has learned that voices prefer curves to corners and that knots in wood make better ground than any polished screw. Ezra watches without interrupting, the way a fiddle player watches someone tune by ear.
When the test call goes out—short, short, long—an answer swims back through the noise, not a word but a **beat**. Caleb closes his eyes and taps back with two knuckles. He does not ask who it is yet. Names are for later; rhythm is for trust.
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American Prophet 