Giver39

In silence I gathered my belongings and stood with my head bowed, unable to face Moon.

No one would treat her as I had over the weeks we had traveled together. Instead of a name, she would be known as only an ignorant beast of burden. She would be worked hard, beaten, and most likely slaughtered when she was no longer of use. No one would brush out her coat or pull twigs and stickers from her mane and tail as I had done. She would be reduced to an animal when I had viewed her as part of my family.

My uncle gave a heavy sigh and clicked his tongue along the roof of his mouth, but I didn't acknowledge him. My feet were leaden, my heart heavy as I stood within fifty yards of Girl's burial site.

"She won't move for me." He sighed again as though aggravated. When I looked at him, he shook his head and chuckled. "She will listen to no one, aside from you."

"I know," I answered softly.

My heart ached for her and the life she would live, constantly beaten until she finally did as she was asked. In my mind, her fate mirrored my past.

He looked me over and tapped his fingers against his hip. "Perhaps she is in mourning as well," he suggested.

She was stubborn, which is what I suspected drew her to me in the first place. We had a kinship as I was loath to listen and she was loath to follow directions unless it involved food. She had head-butted me more times in the spine than I could count and enjoyed removing apples from my hand if I turned my back on her. Now I was expected to turn away from Moon completely and leave her to her fate. I knew what that felt like to be disregarded—and I hated it.

"You were correct," my uncle mused. "We cannot leave her behind."

I looked up at him suddenly, my mouth agape and heart pounding in relief. "She can travel with us on the train?" I gasped. In my mind I pictured a bench large enough to accompany a donkey.

He shook his head. "We walk."

My joy of keeping Moon was overshadowed by my uncle's frail condition. "But—" I started.

"I know," he answered before I could finish. He offered a smile. "We will find a suitable place for her first, somewhere closer to the city, I think."

Tears threatened, but I swallowed them back and nodded. I had never felt such a sense of relief. "Thank you, Uncle Alak."

"We move tonight, my boy," he said. "Once you clean up."

I nodded readily and followed him down the path toward a shallow stream with clean, rushing water gurgling over smooth stones.

"Watch yourself," he said as I ventured out. "It's incredibly slick."

He tossed me a small chunk of soap before he sat in the tall grass and wrote to his son.

I removed my shirt and wrung it out as best I could, ignoring the blood and dirt staining the water. Once I set my shirt out to try on the bank, I bent over and washed my hair, face, and torso in the cool water.

My fingers gingerly ran across the swollen, tender part of my skull where I had been hit. I grimaced and pulled my hand away, thankful there was no fresh blood.

A good shiver passed through me as I dried myself while Moon ate blades of green grass and drank up the stream from where I stood. She swished her tail and looked around cautiously as though expecting Girl would jump out as she often did and nip at her knees.

"We should leave," my uncle said as he stood and dusted off his trousers."It's a long journey in the dark and I don't trust these roads."

With great obedience I fetched Moon by the bridal, tied a rope through both loops on either side of her cheeks, and made kissing noises until she lumbered along beside me. I tangled my fingers in her black mane and rubbed the side of her dusty neck.

My uncle stood waiting for me and smiled when he saw us coming. His skin looked yellow like old parchment, heavily lined and almost draped over his cheekbones. I tried to ignore how sick he appeared, but even when I lowered my gaze, I could see him in my mind. There was no denying he was in poor health.

"There is something very special about a person when animals are unafraid in his company," he commented.

His words embarrassed me. "She follows because I feed her."

"I will not allow you to easily dismiss the true reason." He placed his hand on my shoulder and pulled me closer. "She follows because she can trust you, my boy. This is a trait to take pride in, no doubt."

For a long moment I remained silent and attempted to disprove his words. She knew nothing of me and my faults, I wanted to tell him. She didn't understand how different I was from the others, how void I felt in the presence of people.

"You don't believe me," he said sadly.

He was correct; I didn't believe his kind words.

"Why is this?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

"Here," he said as he grabbed the rope from my hands and started to turn away.

Immediately Moon stooped and brayed in protest. My uncle placed an apple beneath her lips and she tossed her head from side to side and backed up, forcing him to dig his heels into the ground to steady her.

Her sound of distress made me reach for her, and when I looked at my uncle, he shook his head and chuckled.

"Food is clearly not her incentive," he said as he handed me the rope. "What do you say to that, my son?"

I offered only a smile in return, appreciating Moon's antics almost as much as my uncle's kind words.

"Help me up, child," he said as he stood alongside the donkey. I did as requested, finding him lighter than before as I helped him onto her back. I knew he would not be able to walk long distances and that he would need rest more frequently. If we were truly related, I suspected in his stubbornness would be just like my own and he would push himself far longer than he should have.

"Take off the mask," he said firmly as I walked alongside Moon.

The sky was brightly lit with stars, the moon creeping higher into the sky. The clouds remained in the distance, mere wisps left behind without a hint of rain.

I did as my uncle suggested and took a deep breath. He held out his hand, took the mask from me, and dropped it into a leather bag tied to our pack. When I looked at him, he smiled back, his gaze never leaving mine.

"I wish everyone was like you," I said suddenly.

It was his turn to be embarrassed. He smiled but didn't speak for a long moment as we continued down the narrowed path. Crickets chirped in the distance while birds nesting in the trees berated us for disturbing them.

"On the outside, I am a frail old man with missing fingers and yellowed skin," he said at last. "Is that what you see?"

"No," I replied quickly, fearing I would insult him. "I see…you."

"And who might that be?"

"My uncle."

But he was much more than an Uncle in my eyes, a relation that seemed distant. He was a father and a teacher, an example of patience and strength. I drew much from him, possibly more than he knew. In a matter of weeks, I had spoken more to him and received more kindness than I had in over a decade beneath my father's house.

He nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. "Remember that, Erik. There are more ways to see a person than with one's eyes."

That had not been my experience. Despite knowing I should have soaked up his words and fed off the sentiment, I wasn't ready to accept them. He was a man worthy of praise; I was riddled with faults beyond comprehension. I felt as though I had somehow deceived my uncle into believing I was someone better than what I truly was inside.

"No one will see me the way you do," I said under my breath. The thought made me shudder.

"If you speak in that manner, then you make your own truth," he said.

I frowned. The truth needed little persuasion from me.

"And never argue with an old man," he added with a laugh.

He handled my surly nature in the only way I would allow. I looked up at him and pursed my lips.

"Speak," he ordered. "No secrets from an old man, either."

"Why did you take me?"

He didn't seem surprised by my question. He sat back and shrugged. "If you were in my place and you saw a boy coping with great misery and abuse, what would you have done?"

I had never considered what it would be like on the outside looking in on my life. There were many evenings when I sat alone and clearly heard strangers deep in conversation. I sat completely silent, afraid they would notice me. On other nights when my father decided to pay me a visit, there was no such thing as silence. He would yell and curse, throwing items across the darkened confines, overturning the table I sat at for hours alone drawing on scraps of paper or entertaining myself with discarded rubbish.

If I could hear them, then obviously they must have heard me as well. No one had ever so much as shouted for my father to stop hitting me or questioned why my parents claimed their son had died when clearly I was still there within their house. No one asked of me, let alone offered, their help.

"I would have…" I started. "Felt very sorry for him."

"Would you have helped him?"

I shook my head, feeling an overwhelming sense of disappointment in myself.

"Why not?"

"I wouldn't know what to do."

"Sometimes when you act without thinking, you do as your heart tells you," he said. "There was no rationalizing, Erik. When I saw you, when I knew what he had done to you all this time, there was nothing to consider."

I envied his self-assured, matter-of-fact words and the way he spoke. He held such confidence that I looked up at him in awe, wondering how I could capture just an ounce of what he possessed.

"What else?" he asked.

It took me a while to speak again. I had survived beneath my parents' house, but my miserable childhood still threatened to destroy me.

"Why didn't you come for me sooner?" I asked, my throat almost too tight to speak.

His expression darkened. "I was away," he answered, "gone away much longer than I had intended."

"Where?" I asked.

"An old man's troubles shouldn't be your burden," he said, his voice holding such authority that I knew he wouldn't answer my question.

I was at least satisfied knowing he had not stood idle over the years and left me to suffer.

We made our way silently through the night for a while until I stumbled several times and Moon's pace dwindled.

"Do you see that?" my uncle asked suddenly, pointing a knobby finger up ahead.

Plumes of smoke stretched into the night sky, signaling we were near some nameless small town.

"That's where we stay for the night."

I met his eye, my brow furrowed. "But…how?" I asked, knowing we had little funds remaining. My stomach growled and I wanted a meal over a bed.

He didn't look at me when he spoke and I studied his hardened expression. "I lightened a few pockets," he said, his voice colder than I had ever heard it before. "A small debt paid for the harm done."