I'll Be Seeing You
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Chapter One
With small hands, the little girl gripped the handles of the revolving door and pushed herself into it. She pushed the heavy wall-like structure until it turned, chasing it around and around much to the disturbance of the visitors attempting to enter or exit. But despite their complaints she refused to stop. Her quills flew out from behind her, and trembled as the air touched them. It was too early for snow, they had told her. Too early. But she knew it was coming. She knew it in the solid icicles that hung from the awnings outside, proclaiming the hotel's name in large glittering letters. And from the way, the hotdog man on the corner kept dipping his head into the neck of his coat, despite the heat that wafted from the churning dogs.
She was so absorbed in these feelings, and in just being here so far from where Mama and she had been only a number of hours before. And they were safe. So safe, that she didn't see the man with his hands filled to the brim with boxes upon boxes. She didn't see him enter, as unlike the other visitors, he was able to slip in to the revolving door, despite the speed with which she was pushing. She didn't hear him behind her. She did expect to feel a body behind hers, as she finally slowed, dizzy.
"OOF!"
The man cried, as Amelia ceased her pushing, released the handle, and tumbled backwards. The boxes fell atop the two like a rockslide, colliding with one another, and revealing their insides. Shoes of different color, size, and sole, bounced around the interior of the revolving door.
Amelia reached a small arm towards one, and cupped it her arms. It was quite large, almost as big as her head. But really that wasn't saying much as Amelia was quite small, much smaller than other hedgehogs her age, and often got picked on for it.
"Shoes," she murmured, the word sounding new and wrong on her tongue. But that was how they pronounced it here? Wasn't it? "Shoes."
"Mmhmm," a voice replied from behind her. Amelia quickly flicked her head back, only to realize that she had ended up almost in the lap of the stranger behind her. She shivered, though it couldn't have been from the cold, as the revolving had finally stopped within the lobby. Amelia could've still seen her mother at the manger's desk, asking the dapper grey wolf if he would accept half now, and half later for the room as they would only be their one night. But she wasn't focused on her mother, the hotel, or the thing they had left behind anymore. The stranger was covered from knee to neck in a long grey hoodie. The sleeves extended way past his arms, making it seem as if he had no hands at all. The hood was pulled up; covering his whole face, save for two piercing emerald eyes that glittered back at her playfully.
"Who are you?" she asked, and then after a moment added, "Do I know you?" There was something familiar about him. But not that she could place. He couldn't be from her kindergarten class, no. He was too tall, and anyway, they'd left those people miles and miles ago.
The stranger began gathering his boxes and shoes. He didn't look at her as he did so, but nor did he move her from her spot on his lap. She sat there, as if forgetting where she was, and what was going on. There was something about this man that she knew, or at the very least wanted to know. And then there were the things she wanted to tell him. She bit her lip as she thought it, yet it seemed like the best place to start. So with a breath, she said quite quietly, "My name. It is. Amelia."
Internally she cursed herself for the broken English. But outwardly she didn't say a word, didn't even really look at him. Just his hands, and the motions he made as he scooped shoe after shoe into its appropriate box.
"And, you are?" she asked, as he picked the final shoe. Quite a silence had passed between the two since she murmured her name. What could've only been a bout of minutes, had seemed like centuries to Amelia, though she didn't say it.
Perhaps he's shy,her mind offered, but she doubted it. He didn't really seem too shy.
His head didn't duck when he picked up the mess, much unlike what she would've done had places been reversed. He moved fluently and surely. This shoe here. And this shoe-
"-there?"
Amelia shook her head in an attempt to clear the fog of her thoughts, "Excuse me?" she asked, as she had grown used to saying such an expression when she missed something, which was quite often as her mother often liked to remind her.
The stranger held a hand outstretched towards her. Her eyes followed his fingers, which wiggled as if expecting something. But what? Could he be wanting a handshake?
"The shoe?" he finally asked, seeing her confusion. His tone wasn't rude though. If anything, it was on the verge of laughter. Amelia felt her cheeks flush as she handed him the object she'd been clutching (a little too tightly might she add).
"Thanks," the stranger smiled, placing the shoe with its partner and replacing the lid, "It would've been hard to try out 'em out with just one, especially if they burned up. Yah know?"
"B-burned up?"
Amelia saw one of the eyes widen as if questioning her sanity. But then they blinked and something like realization seemed to dawn on his face. He gripped Amelia around the waste, and placed her on the ground beside him. "Sorry about that kiddo, forgot you're still, well, a kid I guess."
"Huh?"
"You'll get it when you're older," snorted the stranger. He stood, using the handle for balance, and made toward turning back out into the streets.
"Wait!"
He turned, with just the hints of a smile. Or so she guessed, as she couldn't really see his mouth, but his eyes softened like Daddy's when she'd fetched the paper bag (and whatever had been it- she never did find out), from where Mama hid it beneath the sink. "Where. You be going, uh, sir?" she tacked on the end, as Mama said that was polite when addressing someone you've just met or someone older than you ("But you mustn't ever ask their age Amelia!").
"Hm?" replied the stranger turning his attention once more to her. He gave a sly shrug, and placed his hands in his pocket. "Would it matter?"
Something deep within Amelia told her to say yes. At any and all costs, she had to say. To get it out and tell him that it mattered. She didn't know how long she had been with this stranger, but she felt something in her chest, and it was beating super fast, but she couldn't understand why. There wasn't really anything she wanted to do, but having him leave left a heavy feeling in her stomach. "W-Will I see you? Again?" she finally muttered, though it was barely audible.
"Maybe," the stranger shrugged again, "Actually we'll probably see each other real soon."
She watched him turn the revolving door once more, without another word. He walked down the empty street with his boxes upon boxes, his hands exposed to the October cold.
He really should wear some gloves, she thought watching him through the clouded glass. His hands were so chilled, they appeared almost blue.
It wasn't until he was out of sight, that she realized she had never gotten his name.