Darla
The boy started talking in his sleep. His head thrust left and right and he seemed disturbed. He seemed as though in a battle, making one guess he was probably having one of those feared bad dreams. At that moment, I almost felt pity for him. He was struggling so much in his dream that it reflected in real life.
The stranger seemed lost and unsettled. He was mumbling so many things that we couldn't get the words clearly. Well, at least we knew he spoke. If my Pa wasn't here, I would have gone closer to hear him.
The boy suddenly jerked up, panting. He looked more surprised to meet our faces staring at him.
"Good morning boy, seems you've woken up." Pa said, trying to sweep away the awkwardness in the air. "I see you slept in your drenched clothes. Why don't we get you changed and treat your injuries?"
He then returned to his gloomy state like Pa hadn't just spoken to him. I wondered what his problem was. Atleast say hello or thank you.
"Looks like someone's still shy. Don't worry, we're good people." Pa then whispered, 'Let's give him a little space. We'll be at the breakfast table. Feel free to join us'.
We then left him alone in the room. I left. As much as I really wanted to dig out more information from him, persistently pushing him until he spoke, I couldn't just bring myself to go against Pa.
I didn't feel wrong for being curious. I believe it was just nature. It was normal for someone to feel protective of your own territory.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we knew of him. Though my Pa was tall and healthy looking for his age, that small boy seemed like a threat and he had something unusual in his eyes. It felt like something bad was attached to his presence. Maybe something terrible was to happen, or was it just him?
His eyes devoid peace and there was something more I couldn't understand. His atmosphere was unexplainable.
I didn't know him, but I'd say he was someone to be cautious about. His unfriendly vibe gave out he wasn't from around here.
The silence. It was the silence that bothered me the most about him.
Aunt Amila came to help us cook the gruel and mutton. She was a friend's aunt and a helpful person. She was beautifully young, kind and caring. Aunt Amila would usually cook for us back at home, and I had grown fond of her meals, especially her broth.
We were farmers that lived in Forestille, a small town located on the outskirts of the mainland.
We were small, but very skilled and hard-working. Most of us were farmers, carpenters, fishermen, fisher-women, blacksmiths... We were known as Forelenes.
After a while, I sneaked back to the room to peak at the boy through the very little opening of the door. It was due to my over curiosity and impatient self. Also, I couldn't think of something else at the moment.
I watched him as he took off his shirt, revealing a gash at his back. I took a closer look at him and saw that he had some kind of antique jewelry on his neck. He tore his shirt and that he used to wrap around his also injured stomach. I wondered where he got those wounds from.
"I know you're there!" he said, making me startled.
I quickly hid myself, resting my back against the wall. It was indeed unexpected. He finally had to say something and it just happened to be in such situation. It had to come in this unpredictable manner that sent chills down my spine. It was very startling.
In my head, I thought, it was my house so why hide?
I came out of hiding, making sure I looked tough. I was about interrogating him again when he said,
"My name is Kaleb. I don't mean any trouble."
He certainly did not sound like someone with lowered pride. Though what he said made it seem like someone who was innocently humble, his voice tone gave out that he held himself highly and wanted to just sound calm.
I asked, "Where are you from?"
"That I can't say. I'll be on my way. Help me thank your.." He said as if requesting for a word.
"Grandfather? You should do that yourself."
"Yes, I think you should. And also, you should join us for breakfast. You must be starved." Pa said from behind us.
We didn't even notice when he came and for how long he had been there.
Kaleb did join us for breakfast, infact, he ate and we watched. He hastingly gobbled up all the meat and food available on the table. He couldn't help moaning as he chewed up the food. He had food particles all over his mouth and face. It was so hard to recognize him as the same quiet creepy person as yesterday.
He looked at me with those I want yours eyes and I shifted the plate of food to his side, telling him he could have mine.
Seeing him eat the way he did made me imagine if he hadn't eaten for a long time. Or maybe he was a gourmand.
Wow! Everyone was amazed at how fast he ate. Pa laughed out and warned him to take it easy with drinking the soup. Maybe he wasn't bad after all, seeing the way he acted innocently as he ate with us. He even looked cute with the stew stains on his shirt that Pa had lent him. It was oversized for him though. Maybe the reason he acted that way was because he felt scared and didn't trust us. I mean why would he?
As much as we knew nothing of him, we too were complete strangers to him.
He probably wanted to observe how we were first before loosening up.
Just look at him. How could a person with a face like that possibly harm anyone?