The Lost Children: Summer Storms

Away in the distance and across a vastness of untouched snow, two children cavorted upon the thick ice of a small frozen pond. One child, the younger of the two boys, laughed as he trotted towards the edge of the pond under the skeletal shadow of an old elm tree long dormant from the freeze of winter. The older boy reeled in the drunkenness of spinning around and around, oblivious to the actions of his smaller counterpart. The sound of a harsh winter wind gusted through, then there was silence; the laughter was gone completely and only the spinning world remained.

Young Joe Jack sprung up, “Jimmy, NO!”

Only the pungent smell of old hay, mixed with ancient corn and dust greeted him. Somewhat confused at his surroundings he glanced around the dark and cramped space he occupied to gain his bearings. He smacked his lips a few times, the taste of last night’s blackberries still on his palette, and he remembered where he was.

Back onto the pile of hay he had arranged the night before he lay, lazily trying to discern if the small sound of light tapping upon the metal roof above his head was rain drops falling, or squirrels skittering across the roof from the fallen oak tree. To his delight, the taps increased, and he knew without a doubt that the sounds were raindrops falling on the old barn roof.

For a while longer he simply relaxed, thinking about his journey, a smile forging his face as his mind wondered across the moment that he had encountered Samantha and her little brother Mikey. A warmth enveloped him as he thought of them nestled in the loft a few feet from him. “They’re good kids.”

If he were the type to consider irony, he would have enjoyed the thought of him, only 14-years-old, calling an 8-year-old and her 6-year-old brother kids. But he was not that type. He was the type who worked alongside his father from the time before he could remember until the moment he ran away from home.

The dark thoughts moved in on him quickly, but he banished them from his mind. He roused himself from his makeshift bed, pulling straw from his clothing as he did. For now, he had a job to do and that was all he could afford to think about.

The world was still dark outside as he came down the slat ladder from his private area into the central portion of the barn. Above him he could make out a soft snore arising from little Mikey, another smile overtook him for a moment – until his eyes found enough light to recognize the shattered remnants of the door leading to the outside world. His shoulder ached mildly from impacting the door to get Mikey out of the treacherous sun just the day before.

He stood for a while in the doorway, staring. The jagged edges left from their entry pressed reassuringly into his right shoulder as he leaned against it. Though the morning was still dark, he was certain that he could make out the wall of thorns and berries that surrounded their new shelter. “So maybe we really are safe…”

“What’s that Joe?” The voice of Samantha sounded from behind him, mixing with a yawn and the exertion of stretching.

“I was talking to myself” He did not look around, but the sound of feet scrubbing across dirt confirmed that both younger kids had come down from the loft he had just left. “I didn’t mean to wake you two.”

“Good morning Joe Jack.” Mikey rubbed at his face, trying to clear sleep from his eyes as he trudged behind Samantha. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry Mikey!” Samantha chided the boy jokingly.

“Well, we’re out of blackberries, we ate all of them last night.” Joe Jack turned from the entrance, brushing a few errant splinters of wood from his arm as he approached the two. “It’s too dark right now to go looking for more food, but as soon as the sun is up, we’ll get some more for you big guy.”

“So, how long ‘til the sun comes up?” Mikey asked both of his elders, the innocent insistence of adolescence coloring his words.

“’Prolly ‘bout an hour.” Joe Jack sat now, pulling Mikey into his lap. “But if we keep ourselves busy then it won’t feel like no time!”

Samantha followed suit and sat across from Joe Jack and her brother. She smiled at the dim image of the two boys, though neither could make it out in the purple darkness of the hour. For a moment she traced her fingers in the loose, dry dirt around her until she finally noticed the increasingly intensifying sounds of rain from the roof above. “This reminds me of the night we left home, right Mikey?”

At the mention of their exodus, Joe Jack’s ears perked up and he peered through the darkness inquisitively at the girl. In the time they had spent together neither of the children had spoken of why they had fled from their home, and he had felt that he should not ask. Mikey chimed up with a simple “yup!”

Silence infiltrated the group for a pregnant moment. Mikey bounced around innocently, but Joe Jack was sure that Samantha was fiddling with the hem of her denim dress. He had seen her do this very thing numerous times in the past week, always when her eyes seemed to cloud over, and she looked to be staring off into nothing. This time, Samantha spoke her thoughts, though her voice seemed detached, unemotional.

“Momma and Daddy went to sleep.”

Something struck Joe Jack in his chest, and his heart began pounding in his ears for a reason he could not define. The desire to speak rose in him, but something stalled his words before he could form them on his tongue. Samantha hesitantly continued.

“Momma cried a lot back then. Daddy was gone a lot.” Her voice still monotone, her cadence increased slightly. “He was drinking a lot too. Momma said he was upset because he couldn’t go fight the Germans like all the other men, on account of his bad leg.”

Mikey shifted slightly, digging deeper into the embrace surrounding him as his breaths became deeper, more sedate. Joe Jack became aware quickly that the snuggling child was drifting off to sleep, this brought him an odd comfort in the moment for he feared the story unfolding.

“Daddy would come in and start yelling at Momma every night.” The barn had brightened slightly, though the rain continued the steady rhythm, promising no quick entrance of morning light. “Momma always had supper waiting for him. Even after we was supposed to be in bed, Momma waited up with Daddy’s supper for him.”

The sky outside brightened to a gloomy purple, lit by increasing blue tones as the sun began to rise behind the thick bank of thunderclouds. Joe Jack yearned with everything inside of him to be out in the cleansing rain, anywhere but listening to what he knew must be a horrible story. Mikey sunk deeper into his lap, his small frame feeling as though he weighed twice as much as he had just five minutes prior.

“One night Momma fell… Well Momma said that she fell, but I saw Daddy slap her. “

“Momma cried, Daddy cussed…” Samantha turned her face to Joe Jack in the dim light filtering in, he was certain her eyes were locked on his, but he was equally sure that she was still not actually looking at him. “Momma talked to herself all day the next day. She kept saying the same thing, over and over.”

Fear crept over Joe Jack as he realized that he had not explored the entirety of the barn the evening before. In the darkness it seemed that all manner of monsters lurked around. His ears perked at every pop and crack; his pulse quickened as his breath fell increasingly shallower.

“Was that breathing from the corner?” He asked himself, desperately trying to separate from the moment.

“Not again…not again…not again.” Samantha was now pounding her small fist into the dirt around her, the sound a flat yet soft thudding against the dust. To Joe Jack it was the sound of the tiny footfalls of something stalking up on the unaware trio. “Not again.”

“…” Something moved immediately behind Joe Jack and though he did not move, internally he bristled up. Invisible fingertips caressed the hair at the base of his neck, sending chills over him. Slowly the light increased to reveal the gaunt and emotionless face of the storyteller beyond him.

“Momma made Daddy a surprise that night. She worked all day on it.” The thumping of fists subsided and immediately Samantha’s hands moved into the air around her seeming to imitate birds on the wind. The deft moves in the negative space looked like snakes dancing around, waiting to strike. “Daddy loved chocolate cake. More than anything, Daddy loved chocolate cake.”

“He loved it more than he loved Momma.”

Mikey twisted his sleeping position, a small flatulence sounding out as he turned. No one noticed. In the receding darkness a small squeal escaped, followed by a short but intense soft flopping noise. Again, Joe Jack refused to move, his body frozen as surely as his words.

“Momma made Daddy a chocolate cake all his own.” Quiet abounded now, though the air felt electric and dangerous. The smell of the rain permeated the barn, overpowering everything but a salty-sweet metallic smell that increased in strength and quickly vanished. “She didn’t even let us lick the bowl, not this time. I really wanted to lick the bowl.”

The ground seemed to be crawling around the children and the first shadows began to appear. Their advancement making the rafters and beams near the entrance seem thicker by expansion. Samantha ceased her flitting hand movements and tilted her head quizzically, as if the memory confused her.

“Daddy didn’t come home until late. He must have been real tired.” She studied her hands, now sitting motionless in her lap. “He ate Momma’s cake. He had two pieces.”

“Daddy told Momma that the cake tasted funny, she laughed and told him it was just dessert…” Then I saw him give Momma a piece. He told her she had to eat it.”

“He said that if she didn’t eat some, he would wake us up and give the leftover cake to us.”

A knot turned in Joe Jack’s stomach. The pieces began to fall into place, he did not need to know the end of the story. Sadly, he knew that he could not escape hearing it. Mikey began to lightly snore, his little voice sounding like a glass bottle rolling across wood. Joe Jack felt tears fill his eyes, the warmth invading his entire face.

“We was supposed to be in bed, but I really wanted some of that cake. Momma was so selfish. She grabbed the cake and ate every bit of it, she didn’t leave us any cake at all!” The first notion of emotion entered her monologue, her lips pursing up into a small pout. “Then Momma and Dad stared at each other at the kitchen table until they was so tired they just fell asleep right there.”

“Momma?” Mikey seemed to wake himself by his own snores, he rose and looked around, confused. “Daddy?”

“They never woke up, remember Mikey?” After this, Samantha seemed to snap out of her malaise. Her features filled out in the morning light. Seemingly revived, she slowly rose, dusted off her clothing and headed for the doorway, adding “then they got real cold.”

Joe Jack lifted Mikey and stood as well, heading out after Samantha, determined to harvest some berries for the children, though he was certain he was no longer hungry. He was not sure how long it would be until he might be hungry again.