Shadow of the Orphan

The Surreal Beginning

It was a deep, cold night. The mist was at all the place except one, his house. The scattered leaves in the garden were rustling with an unpleasant sound with the flow of unfriendly winds. That night was a scary one for the rest, but he was standing in his maroon night gown in the curve of the beautiful balcony. His light brown eyes were awaiting to see that man, once whose face he wished not to see. His sharp jutted jaws became tighter as the wind brought some dust particles with it in the storm. He softly took hold of the freezing handrails with grave expressions on his face.

"Hey! What you doing up there?! Get in! It's the night of the Satan." A man in a black heavy coat with a covered hat on his bald head ran through the bushes hiding himself from the one unknown to all of them. He shouted in a rough voice to him who was fearlessly standing and greeting the storm. He turned around and asked,

"Is he there out?"

"Non (no), not yet." An elegant voice came from behind the veils in which she was sitting and preparing some red wine for the guest unarrived till then. She unveiled herself from behind the curtains which revealed her large hazel eyes, pinkish fair skin and soft but sharp cheeks, lips like strawberry and her wavy brown hair left open on the left shoulder while her cute small hands held the glass of wine when the doorbell rang. She was dressed in a royal blue gown with a large bow behind which exposed as she stood up and put her feet in those gorgeous closed sandals.

"Bonjour (hello) Jason," Hazel was firstly happy but then her expressions were same as of Jason's. "Why such long face?" He didn't reply and walked monotonously to the comfy velvet sofa and sat with one leg over the other. His long heavy dark brown coat seemed to be a little oversize. He placed his hat of the same colour; on the small round table, he was damp.

"What's with your suit? It isn't raining out there, is it?" She asked with some peculiarity she was feeling with the person who was meeting her after eight long years. He looked at her, leaned forward a bit and clinched his fingers into one another, then said in a creepy voice,

"Moistness..." His morale was down and looked as if he came from a long journey, though he didn't, "Why're you looking so muzzy?" he queried.

"No, nothing. You look outlandish actually." She said at once, "Excuse me, I would call him for yah." And she ran upstairs. Jason reacted in a way that he mustn't have, calm and quite expressions with an untimely smile on his face.

"You must not meet him," she said, "he's not safe I feel. That old hostile grin was clearly seen on his face. Well, I... I told you to get him for this job but now... now I'm not feeling it right. Sérieusement cest fou (seriously this is crazy)."

"Dont worry dear, do you doubt me?" Lucius consoled her though he felt the same. And went downstairs.

"Oh Jason! Long time, no see." He received him as if there was nothing wrong between the two since last eight years and hugged him as if he was his business partner. Hazel stood behind the purple curtain with some confused face. She wasn't able to analyse the reason of such a meet, who was Jason and what could be his role in her life? He seemed dangerous to her as something very shady she saw in his hand. It was a French book, seemed a learning book for children. She was, for a moment, taken away with the thought that Jason might have got married and have kids, but the other moment she realized that he was an English man and never knew French at all. She summed it up as Jason could be a liar cause in her memory, he never spoke truth.

"So? When did you come back to London?" The two sat on the opposite sofas and Lucius started the conversation breaking the silence which was creating a clumsiness in the air.

"Just a week past now." Replied Jason in his favourite clumsy tone as always.

"And informing us this late?"