I got enough humiliation at home, so I strayed a little behind her, ready to leap into the safety of the woods if I needed to.
She guided me confidently along various paths. I was surprised, given the amount of time I spent in these woods, that I’d never seen her before. The rain fell hard, once again soaking me to the bone, and the mud beneath our feet squelched with each step. I cowered under the cold drops. Andi didn’t seem to mind the rain as she skipped and splashed into puddles, spraying mud in every direction.
“Where are we going?” I shouted through the drumming rain.
“Home.”
I slowed my pace to avoid the splashes from Andi. I didn’t want to get any dirtier, I already hated myself for how I looked. What if Andi’s parents turned me away?
Through a gap in the trees, smoke billowed above us. I hoped this was Andi’s home, so we could get out of the rain. Although, I was scared of how they would react to me.
A small cottage broke through the trees, snuggled in a glade, small but much bigger than Uncle Nik’s flat. The cottage was quaint, built with stone and a chimney spitting smoke from the middle of the roof.
Flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colours surrounded the cottage in painted boxes, beneath little windows with dark wooden shutters that lay open. In the centre of the garden, stood an enormous oak tree. I felt like I was walking into a painting.
Andi runs full speed towards the cottage. “Mum, Dad,” she roared as she burst through the door, traipsing mud all over the floor. “Can Wyatt stay for supper?”
“Who’s Wyatt?” a man’s voice asked.
“He’s my friend. I met him in the woods today. He’s hungry… we both are.” She beckoned me forward, but I stopped at the door frame, extremely aware of my filthy shoes and clothes. These folk had such a nice home. I didn’t want to make it dirty by stepping inside.
“Hi Wyatt,” a woman said, walking towards me with a soft smile, but her eyebrows were creased together with a look of pity. “Of course you can stay for supper. Andi, why don’t you and Wyatt take off your muddy shoes and go wash up?”
She turned to Andi’s dad and asked, “Can you spare some clothes for Wyatt? He’s drenched.” They side-eye me quickly, but long enough for me to see the concern in their eyes. It’s a look I saw often.
Sympathy.
Over the years, I spent almost every day at Andi’s. Sometimes, sleeping on the couch when things got really bad at Nik’s, and they never asked why. Which I appreciated.
Many times, they said I could call them by their first names, but one time, their names slipped out during an argument withNik, and he abhorred it. That’s when I started using their first names all the time just to spite him.
Although they always felt like Mum and Dad to me. Euan taught me woodworking skills, and Nia taught me my letters and numbers. Soon I could read and do easy maths. When I became a teenager, I got a job with the local carpenter. They were so proud and prepared a special meal in celebration of me.
I had never been happier.
I will never forget the kindness they showed me. Because of them, I am the man I am today.
When Euan died, I was heartbroken, like losing my own dad, the one I never got the chance to mourn. Nik once made a joke about how I was tearing up over someone who wasn’t even family. That was the first time I had ever punched someone.
All I saw was red, and my fist had connected with his jaw before I knew what was happening. He stopped talking to me after that, and I made no attempt to make amends.
They are my family. Always have been. Looking after the Kohans was a role I gave myself after Euan died.
One I’ll continue to keep.
Leaning against the fountain, I’m surrounded by reminders of the last day I saw Andi. The once polished steps of the temple are now painted in blood splatter. Buildings with boarded-up windows now decorated in blackened scorch marks, closed shops resonate the emptiness of the once well-maintained town.
The guards’ inquests to find the ‘witch’ have affected everyone. Even though it boils my blood that the townsfolk stood by and watched Andi being beaten bloody, and her clothes ripped from her body to display her family’s mark, I have to give them their dues. Not one of them has given up any information. Despite the guard’s best interrogation attempts, no one talks.
The town has come to a silent agreement of ignorance.
What was once a vibrant and cheerful town is now sullen and devoid. Anyone remaining, hides behind closed doors. Folk live on scraps since the shops have closed, begging for a chunk of bread or a few pinches of flour, while the guards indulge themselves in stolen goods.
The only reason I ventured out today was to gather what scraps I could from the shops, knocking on backdoors, calling in favours and old debts, politely reminding them all of Nia’s kindness. Although they have to feed their own family, they spare what they can.
Today, the only thing I could get was a stale loaf of bread. I have no idea what we can do with this. Luckily, Nia’s talented with plants and has an amazing ability to scrounge up the oddest of dishes, adding ‘A la mode’ on the end, like it makes it more appetising.
An ear-curling scream breaks me out of my thoughts. It thunders around the square. I can’t tell in which direction the scream came from. Pushing away from the fountain, I stalk around the quiet square, listening for any more cries. Nothing.