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Chapter 3: The Boy Of Her Past
The food was delicious! Beef stew, baked potatoes, corn bread, glass after glass of milk and so much more, and it just kept coming! Crystal and Mary, the mother, were watching in awe as I ate and ate and ate. When I finally finished, I stood and thanked them humbly, then walked toward the door.
"Well, I hate to eat and run, but I gotta go. I need to get back to my camp." I said softly, trying not to worry them. It didn't work.
"You can't leave like that, you're hurt." Said Mary, stepping closer. "Stay here for the night, you can go in the morning." I was grateful that she cared about me like this. It had been a long time since I got this kind of attention.
"Trust me, I've had much worse than this. Besides, most of my stuff is at my camp. I need to get it." I turned to the door only to see Crystal storming toward it, standing firmly in the way.
"You are not going anywhere! You are hurt and you are staying the night and that is final!" My patience was wearing thin with her, and I didn't want to blow up at her. She had done nothing wrong. She was worried about me, I know, but she was being pushy and bossing me around. I didn't like that.
"Listen, for the last time, all my things are there."
"You can leave in the morning when it's safer!"
"What if I told you I didn't have time?"
"BS, you have plenty of time for playing with wolves!" she yelled, pointing at my arm.
"What if I had no choice!?"
"Then you'll just have to make another cause you're staying here!" I couldn't help it after that. I snapped.
"HEY, LISTEN!!! YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!!! YOU LIVE OUT THERE FOR SEVEN YEARS BY YOURSELF AND SEE HOW YOU ACT!!! I'VE BEEN ALONE FOR A LONG TIME AND I CAN KEEP IT UP, AND I'LL BE DAMNED IF I'M GONNA LET SOME WENCH GET IM MY WAY!!!" She was cowering by the time I finished, tears welling up in her eyes and her lip quivering. I didn't care. She ran up the stairs, crying in her hands. I grabbed the door handle when Mary put her hand on my shoulder. I turned and glared at her, but she had the look any mother would have in this situation.
"She's only worried about you. We all are. Stay the night, just tonight, and we can get your things first thing in the morning." I sighed, growing soft. Something about her reminded me of my own mother way back when.
"She lost someone close to her a few years ago... She hid in her room for months. Wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep... She just sat up there and cried..." I looked at her.
"What was he like?" She smiled at me and spoke softly.
"Why, he was a lot like you to be honest. Brave, strong, and handsome to boot." We both laughed at this a little. "He was a kind boy. His name was Isaac I think. It was quite a while ago." I nodded gently, looking at her like I was asking her what I should do. Her smile fadded and she nodded at the stairs. I sighed and started to climb them.
Chapter 3: The Boy Of Her Past
The food was delicious! Beef stew, baked potatoes, corn bread, glass after glass of milk and so much more, and it just kept coming! Crystal and Mary, the mother, were watching in awe as I ate and ate and ate. When I finally finished, I stood and thanked them humbly, then walked toward the door.
"Well, I hate to eat and run, but I gotta go. I need to get back to my camp." I said softly, trying not to worry them. It didn't work.
"You can't leave like that, you're hurt." Said Mary, stepping closer. "Stay here for the night, you can go in the morning." I was grateful that she cared about me like this. It had been a long time since I got this kind of attention.
"Trust me, I've had much worse than this. Besides, most of my stuff is at my camp. I need to get it." I turned to the door only to see Crystal storming toward it, standing firmly in the way.
"You are not going anywhere! You are hurt and you are staying the night and that is final!" My patience was wearing thin with her, and I didn't want to blow up at her. She had done nothing wrong. She was worried about me, I know, but she was being pushy and bossing me around. I didn't like that.
"Listen, for the last time, all my things are there."
"You can leave in the morning when it's safer!"
"What if I told you I didn't have time?"
"BS, you have plenty of time for playing with wolves!" she yelled, pointing at my arm.
"What if I had no choice!?"
"Then you'll just have to make another cause you're staying here!" I couldn't help it after that. I snapped.
"HEY, LISTEN!!! YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!!! YOU LIVE OUT THERE FOR SEVEN YEARS BY YOURSELF AND SEE HOW YOU ACT!!! I'VE BEEN ALONE FOR A LONG TIME AND I CAN KEEP IT UP, AND I'LL BE DAMNED IF I'M GONNA LET SOME WENCH GET IM MY WAY!!!" She was cowering by the time I finished, tears welling up in her eyes and her lip quivering. I didn't care. She ran up the stairs, crying in her hands. I grabbed the door handle when Mary put her hand on my shoulder. I turned and glared at her, but she had the look any mother would have in this situation.
"She's only worried about you. We all are. Stay the night, just tonight, and we can get your things first thing in the morning." I sighed, growing soft. Something about her reminded me of my own mother way back when.
"She lost someone close to her a few years ago... She hid in her room for months. Wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep... She just sat up there and cried..." I looked at her.
"What was he like?" She smiled at me and spoke softly.
"Why, he was a lot like you to be honest. Brave, strong, and handsome to boot." We both laughed at this a little. "He was a kind boy. His name was Isaac I think. It was quite a while ago." I nodded gently, looking at her like I was asking her what I should do. Her smile fadded and she nodded at the stairs. I sighed and started to climb them.