Silent Snow Fall
Chapter Two-Introductions
Maria and Amos Parchain sat in the cosy living room, the blazing log fire casting jumping figures of shadow and light to dance on the walls. It had been over a week since they had taken in the snow child, as they had come to call him. Maria was worried that they may need to seek professional help, but the nearest hospital was miles away. "He wasn't much of a lad when we got him, Amos" she was telling her husband. Amos scoffed quietly "He looks a wiry little runt though, tougher than you think you'll find." They were silent for a few minutes. "I'll go and check on him" Maria said finally. Amos rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. That woman was the biggest fuss, the boy would pull through fine but it wouldn't stop her acting Mother hen. She had wanted children so long as well. She was devastated when they found they couldn't. Shaking his head, Amos eased down and shut his eyes, awaiting his wife's return.
Stepping lightly up the smoothly worn wood stairs, Maria stopped and listened. Had she heard movement in the room? Quickly ascending the final few steps, she pushed the heavy door open. The first thing she noticed was the rumpled, but decidedly empty bed. Scanning the room she found the boy, standing by the window watching the night snow swirl into the blackness.
Turning slowly, he looked directly into her eyes, his own giving off no emotion. She stepped closer and was alarmed to see a slick of polished metal appear in his hand. "Well really!" Maria was insulted. She may be a terrible fuss but she had a strong sense of courtesy. "It's nice to know you appreciate my husband risking his own neck to save you." The young boy considered, she noticed the strange colour of his eyes and thought she noticed a deformity in his left hand but was too polite to stare.
Finally the child spoke. "I am sorry Madame. I was not sure of your grounds of keeping me. You have to be careful with some of the people in Lithuania these days." His voice was soft and fluid with a pleasant cultured lilt. The old woman nodded eyes returning some more warmth to him. "That's true, child. There's some rumours of whole gangs of those Nazi scum parading through our land as if it was their own soil. Cowards who haven't the heart to fight when the oppositions equal." She made a disapproving noise. She eyed his slight form up critically. "Anyway, what about you? Feeling okay, dear?" The boy looked to his shoulder, a fresh cloth bandage held it securely in the correct position. "My shoulder is dislocated. It feels better new though. Did you fix this bandage on? "
"No, it's my husband you've got to thank for that. Used to be in the National Medics Society, Amos did." The child noticed how the woman swelled with pride when talking about her husband. He'd noticed that before as well. He'd never really felt proud of anyone. His father was a coward in the boy's eyes who dodged fighting by bribing the local authorities, his mother was very ill, he hadn't seen her for more than a few hours at a time. It was the old maid who had brought him up and their relationship had never got beyond professional.
Suddenly the memory of Mischa pulling herself up on the rocking horse and walking her first, wobbling steps to him. He had felt proud then. He pushed Mischa to the back of his mind, it was too soon. He felt heat behind his eyes and turned from the woman, facing the white and black kaleidoscope out the window. "Now then!" the woman was behind him and gently turned him despite his resistance. She took in this pale slip of a boy, the weary grief new in his moistening eyes. She looked at him for a split second then Maria Parchain pulled Hannibal Lecter into the first real hug of his young life and let him cry.
Chapter Two-Introductions
Maria and Amos Parchain sat in the cosy living room, the blazing log fire casting jumping figures of shadow and light to dance on the walls. It had been over a week since they had taken in the snow child, as they had come to call him. Maria was worried that they may need to seek professional help, but the nearest hospital was miles away. "He wasn't much of a lad when we got him, Amos" she was telling her husband. Amos scoffed quietly "He looks a wiry little runt though, tougher than you think you'll find." They were silent for a few minutes. "I'll go and check on him" Maria said finally. Amos rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. That woman was the biggest fuss, the boy would pull through fine but it wouldn't stop her acting Mother hen. She had wanted children so long as well. She was devastated when they found they couldn't. Shaking his head, Amos eased down and shut his eyes, awaiting his wife's return.
Stepping lightly up the smoothly worn wood stairs, Maria stopped and listened. Had she heard movement in the room? Quickly ascending the final few steps, she pushed the heavy door open. The first thing she noticed was the rumpled, but decidedly empty bed. Scanning the room she found the boy, standing by the window watching the night snow swirl into the blackness.
Turning slowly, he looked directly into her eyes, his own giving off no emotion. She stepped closer and was alarmed to see a slick of polished metal appear in his hand. "Well really!" Maria was insulted. She may be a terrible fuss but she had a strong sense of courtesy. "It's nice to know you appreciate my husband risking his own neck to save you." The young boy considered, she noticed the strange colour of his eyes and thought she noticed a deformity in his left hand but was too polite to stare.
Finally the child spoke. "I am sorry Madame. I was not sure of your grounds of keeping me. You have to be careful with some of the people in Lithuania these days." His voice was soft and fluid with a pleasant cultured lilt. The old woman nodded eyes returning some more warmth to him. "That's true, child. There's some rumours of whole gangs of those Nazi scum parading through our land as if it was their own soil. Cowards who haven't the heart to fight when the oppositions equal." She made a disapproving noise. She eyed his slight form up critically. "Anyway, what about you? Feeling okay, dear?" The boy looked to his shoulder, a fresh cloth bandage held it securely in the correct position. "My shoulder is dislocated. It feels better new though. Did you fix this bandage on? "
"No, it's my husband you've got to thank for that. Used to be in the National Medics Society, Amos did." The child noticed how the woman swelled with pride when talking about her husband. He'd noticed that before as well. He'd never really felt proud of anyone. His father was a coward in the boy's eyes who dodged fighting by bribing the local authorities, his mother was very ill, he hadn't seen her for more than a few hours at a time. It was the old maid who had brought him up and their relationship had never got beyond professional.
Suddenly the memory of Mischa pulling herself up on the rocking horse and walking her first, wobbling steps to him. He had felt proud then. He pushed Mischa to the back of his mind, it was too soon. He felt heat behind his eyes and turned from the woman, facing the white and black kaleidoscope out the window. "Now then!" the woman was behind him and gently turned him despite his resistance. She took in this pale slip of a boy, the weary grief new in his moistening eyes. She looked at him for a split second then Maria Parchain pulled Hannibal Lecter into the first real hug of his young life and let him cry.