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A Cold and Rainy Winter

By: Jessica Brandon

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Part One: Reality

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It had been a cold and rainy winter, dismal and grey, the world was a reality of purgatory. The stillness of winter forgotten and the renewal of spring denied, Ariel Noble Pace had been restless for weeks now. Sitting still on the edge of their bed, his toes resting just inside the edges of his slippers, his blue-eyed gaze wandered along the edges of the room and up to the foggy window. Rain again; splatting and running down the window in a constant rhythm that brought forth a yawn, he grimaced at the shrill cry that split the air then.

How had he known it would happen? Sleeplessness mixed with the sort of hyper alertness all parents of sick children attain, he moved by rote. He stood immediately and shuffled from the bed. Feet damp in his slippers, he stretched as he went, hands scratching at and lifting the edges of his shirt.

The crib stood in the opposite corner of their small room, the two-year-old boy within screaming from a pain his parents couldn’t understand. His cries echoed around the room with its white walls and matted brown carpet. Father and son soon face to face, even the soothing noises the man cooed wouldn’t pause the child’s cries. And he continued, despite being lifted into his father’s arms, through the rocking, the murmurs that were meant to comfort yet drowned out. A strange emptiness filled his heart, the void of hurt that came at the end of worrying. It had been too long, and he had stopped wondering when his son would get better.

“Is he hungry Ariel?” He spun at Julia Noble Pace’s voice, the boy cradled in the crook of his neck as he supported him with one arm and rubbed his back with the other. Shrugging, he shuffled back towards her. Trying to ignore the dark circles under her eyes, he knew her face was a mirror of his own. Wandering off into a vague memory of a warmer summer, he watched from a distance as she attempting to sooth their child with her breast.

She looked so much older that way. Red hair that had been so much brighter, and brown eyes dulled by their tears. Her face drawn, the lines evident in the corners of her almond eyes, a far cry from the seventeen year old she once was. And his chest was pained suddenly, knowing it was his fault. She was too young to be pregnant then, and Mio was sick because of his foolishness. Young, stupid, he could have waited if he wanted. There had always been a choice.

Fussing and jerking his face away from his mother’s offering, Ariel wasn’t surprised when she started to cry. This terrible thing he had cursed her with, he tried to smile as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Here,” Mio slipped easily back into his hands as she continued to cry silently. “I’ll walk with him. You try and sleep.”

She didn’t protest, curling immediately onto her side and slipping her delicate legs under the blanket. The pang of desire that ran through him was followed by a crashing wave of self-disgust. And he cradled the boy closer, one hand on the back of his head as he stepped from the room and into the hall.

The smell of dishes left unwashed in the sink wafted to his nose in the dimly lit hall. There wasn’t much space in the house they could afford. Two rooms in the hall, his and Julia’s and another that would have been Mio’s. And then a larger room with a kitchen and sitting room joined on the other side. It was all the space they truly needed, yet he couldn’t help the surge of regret on days such as this. Mio began to cough then, screaming his throat raw and crying hot angry tears, Ariel pressed kisses into his soft blonde hair.

He should have been walking and talking. He should have been able to at least try and feed himself, but he was already two years old and completely unable to do any of the things a normal child should. He was not born deaf or blind, yet there was no way to teach him. Sicknesses continually plagued his body and made him small, so it seemed he never aged. Neither parent was willing to voice how incredible it was that their child was still alive.

“If you keep screaming you’ll keep mom awake, Mio. Don’t you want her to sleep? Shouldn’t she get to sleep?” He wandered into the kitchen, knowing his son couldn’t hear him and not caring. He paced for a while, shoulders sunken and defeated as his eyes drifted shut several times. Sleeping through his cries had almost become necessary. He was a husk of a person as he moved towards the door and lifted his coat from the back of a chair.

Wrapping Mio so he would be warm enough, Ariel stepped outside and stood under the edge of the roof, keeping dry and hoping Julia would be able to sleep if he kept Mio outside long enough. The rough boards of the house were freezing as he leaned against them, gazing up through the darkness of the night and sighing loudly. Sore in every part of his body, he wondered how he would manage to wake up and run to his job at the brickyard.

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