Seth

The moment Jennifer rounded the corner and the front porch came into view, she knew that getting rid of Tom wasn’t going to be easy.

He was leaning casually on the hood of his pickup truck, his face turned towards the evening sky. Was he watching the movement of the fleecy clouds as they traced their eternal paths across the horizon, or was he gazing at the fine sprinkling of stars that were visible?

She couldn’t tell, only that the candid and completely unconscious way he looked spoke to something deep and hidden within her. She missed Gerald, cold and distant though he was, but more than that she missed the connection with another human being.

He turned at the sound of her approaching boot steps on the gravel drive and he smiled. He tipped his hat at her. “Evening Jennifer.”

She could have sworn that there was a slight hesitation at the familiar way he said her name, but then again she had insisted he call her by that the previous evening.

“Tom.” She let her eyes sweep over him and the truck. He had been listening to the radio while he apparently waited for her to return home, and on the hood of the truck next to him she could see a red thermal bag similar to the type that pizza was delivered in.

Oh God, he’s brought dinner. How can I tell him to leave without sounding rude or ungrateful?

Something in her expression must have shown, because he quickly straightened up, his posture tense. “I uh, I figured I’d return the favor and cook you dinner tonight. Well, not cook exactly, but bring you dinner. I also brought back the Tupperware I borrowed, and….” He seemed suddenly unsure of himself and he shook his head. “You know what? I should have called before instead of just showing up like this.” He made a move to pick the bag up, but she stepped forward, her hand raised.

“Tom, wait.” She sighed. The boy was waiting for her in a cold barn alone, in the dark. Her neighbor—her very polite and considerate neighbor—had brought her dinner and now seemed seconds away from bolting if she didn’t say something.

“Thank you. That was very…considerate of you.”

He paused with the bag held in his hands. “Oh. You’re welcome.”

Twenty minutes. I’ll give him twenty minutes and then will make some excuse that I’m tired and send him on his way.

“Just bring that into the kitchen and I’ll get the plates. We can eat al fresco like we did yesterday if you don’t mind.”

“That sounds good. Better than good, actually.” He hefted the bag easily in his hands and waited for her to climb the porch stairs before he fell into step behind her. The front door was unlocked as it usually was during the day time—the perks of country life—and the light in the kitchen cast a warm glow on the foyer’s wooden floor.

Tom’s boot steps joined hers as they made their way to the kitchen, and it was then that she realized the mess she had left behind that afternoon. The table, counter, sink, and stove top were littered with dirty dishes, plates of uneaten food that she had tried to tempt the boy with, and various empty bottles, jars, and glasses.

Tom was too polite to say anything as she hastily cleared a spot on the counter near the fridge. His eyes swept around the room taking silent inventory as she reached into the cupboard and removed two clean plates and bowls.

“I’ll get the forks and spoons.” He remembered where they were and retrieved a set for both of them.

Jennifer felt the need to fill the silence as he set about unzipping the thermal bag. The thick, meaty aroma of lasagna filled the air and mingled with the faint scents of cheese, maple syrup, and peanut butter still in the room. “Sorry about the mess.” She handed him a spatula and he heaped a hearty helping onto each plate. Another container revealed garlic knots, salad, and some type of soup.

He waved dismissively. “No need. I’m glad to see that your appetite has returned.”

Jennifer supposed that was as good an explanation as any and decided to go with it. “I was feeling hungry today and couldn’t seem to decide what I wanted, so I made a little of everything.”

He laughed. “Well, at this rate you’ll need to go grocery shopping soon.”

Twenty minutes. That’s all. The boy was waiting for her and he was hungry and cold. She felt anxious as Tom continued to gather the plates and utensils, her mind counting down the seconds until she would make some excuse to send Tom away.

He indicated the containers of steaming food. “I didn’t bring any dessert seeing as how we still had some of that pie left over from last night. A slice of that will go well with dinner.”

Oh no.

“Actually, the pie is all gone. I ate the rest of it this afternoon.” She felt slightly guilty for lying, but in actuality, the pie was all gone. The boy had eaten it in an almost ravenous fashion when she first discovered him, as evidenced by the empty pie plate in the back of the barn.

She hurriedly glanced at the clock hanging above the sink. Eleven minutes had elapsed since the boy had headed into the barn to hide, eleven minutes in which he sat alone and in the dark in a jacket not near warm enough to protect him from the chill in the air.

She was about to make some excuse to Tom that she wasn’t feeling well and would have to do this another time, when she heard the boy’s voice clear as day in her head:

He makes you happy and that makes me happy. I’ll be fine.

She started but quickly covered up the action. “Wow, that plate’s hotter than I thought.” She waved her hand as if to cool it, and Tom reached over and took a plate in each hand.

He motioned to the front porch with the crook of his elbow. “Go, sit. I’ll bring the food out to you.”

She nodded and made her way shakily out to the porch. The barn sat shadowy and forlorn off in the distance, utterly silent and dark. “But it’s too cold and you need to eat again.”

She knew that she was too far away for the boy to hear, but again came that same silent entreaty: I’ll be fine. Be happy.

“Okay.” Fourteen minutes had elapsed since she and the boy had parted. She would allow them enough time to eat and enjoy some light conversation, but regardless of how well the evening progressed, she would not allow more than an hour to lapse. “I’ll try my best to be happy if that’s what you want, but in forty-three minutes I’m coming to get you.”

*******

“That was lovely, Tom. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She nodded, distracted by the sense of time flying by. The air had gotten chillier and while they had eaten their dinner at a relatively sedate pace, she knew that she had to retrieve the boy as soon as possible. She had been genuinely cold when she’d announced that she was feeling tired and needed to warm up, and Tom, true to form, had offered to help clean up the dishes. She had waved dismissively and said that it was no trouble at all and thanked him once more for dinner.

By the time he climbed into the cab of his pickup truck, a full sixty-seven minutes had elapsed since the boy had hidden himself away in the barn, and she was nearly frantic with worry. The admonition to be happy and that he would be fine had come twice more during dinner, but despite this she knew on an instinctive, perhaps maternal level, that he was anything but. He had to be positively ravenous by now, and while Tom had graciously offered to leave the leftovers for her to enjoy tomorrow, she knew the boy would be offended by the sight and smell of the meat and salad. He might be willing to try the bread, but that would not be enough. She hadn’t had a chance to preheat the oven or mix the cookie dough, and the remnants of lunch were stone cold and congealed.

Tom backed out of the driveway and as soon as the truck rounded the bend and headed off towards his own property, she practically leapt off of the porch and began to run towards the barn.

Navigating her way in the near dark was tricky, but the occasional shaft of moonlight managed to make its way through the haze of clouds that floated lazily in the night sky. The light of her cellphone was equally unreliable as she bounced and jogged her way through the backyard, through the heavy aluminum gate, and out into the pasture where the cows slept.

By the time she made it to the barn her lungs were burning and she felt cold despite the exertion. The interior of the barn was pitch black and seemed to yawn inwards like the maw of some hideous beast. Absolutely no sound emanated from within it and she had a moment’s panic in which she imagined the boy, trembling uncontrollably from cold and hunger, slumped unconscious in a corner.

“I’m here! Where are you?”

There was no answer and she plunged into the darkness, the light from her cell phone illuminating a thin circle of light in front of her. She could see a crisscrossing of their footprints in the dirt floor, but they were so interlaced it was impossible to discern which direction he had gone. She shone the light into each of the stalls and along each wall, but was greeted with only silence and emptiness.

“Please answer me, where are you?” She could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, yet she continued forward, her ears straining for the faintest sound. Once more the amorphous shape of the covered saddle emerged from the darkness like some mysterious creature risen from the pools of shadow, its dusty cover shining dully.

“Please answer me, just say something, anything—”

The beam of her cell phone light illuminated a small, dark shape lying behind the covered saddle, and half running, half crawling, she flung herself to the ground, her hands out to gather the small form to her.

The boy appeared to be asleep, but the pinched, sallow complexion to his skin coupled with the deep, sunken lines of his cheeks indicated that he was in distress. He didn’t respond when she scooped him up in her arms, didn’t respond when she cradled him like a baby and shook him gently, pleading with him to wake up.

Finally he gave a faint rasping sound and his eyes slowly opened, the fathomless blue nearly shocking in the light cast by her cell phone. The pupils did not respond and he exhaled with another faint rasping sound before the lids drooped and the blue was shut out.

“Please, please….” She was sobbing now even as she struggled to rise to her knees with the precious burden in tow. “Please don’t leave me. Not again.”

The boy’s skin was cool to the touch and his stomach gave one riotous gurgle after another, clear indication that he was starving.

I should have made some excuse and sent Tom away, I should have—

Gammeh-te-rah?

She felt herself smile despite the pain threatening to break her heart in two. “Yes, I’m here. I’m here, Seth.” She held him tight to her and made her way briskly across the floor of the barn towards the entrance. With any luck she should make it back to the house in less than ten minutes. From there she would set about drawing him a hot bath, dressing him in clean, warm clothes, and could then feed him as he lay swaddled in a thick comforter. She would attend to him all night if she had to, forgoing sleep if necessary. She had spent so much of her life asleep since Seth’s passing—now she would spend it wide awake to care for this being until he regained his strength.

“Hold on darling, we’re almost there.” She practically kicked the aluminum gate aside as she maneuvered her way through, careful not to drop him. At some point during the trek back to the house she had lost track of where she’d stowed her cell phone, but no matter. The light shining from the kitchen window and front porch was more than adequate for her to be able to pick her way through the dark and shadows, and she was mere feet away from the front door.

It banged open as she burst through and the boy gave a sharp whimper before settling cold and heavy in her arms once more.

“We’re home, Seth, we’re home.” She kissed the top of his head lightly, her own lips numb from the cold. “Momma’s going to help you get better. I promise.”