Starlings Pagan

The Home of Douglas Roger

The home of Douglas Roger.

A grand, dark-wooden home stood tall in front of Ivar's eyes. A veranda covered in snow stretched alongside at least seven windows. White posts hung down lean and slender on the porch, making quite an entrance to the door. The door was tall and dark with little swirly engravings. It would have to be afternoon by this time because the sun was shining in arrays of thin lines by the skyline and the porch lights were already on.
Ivar always wondered why the sun set so early in winter, but so late in summer.
"Wow. This is your house?"
"Sure is," The boy lead her up the porch steps and opened the door for her.
When Ivar gingerly walked inside, she said, "Thank you." The boy followed her in and noticed Ivar headed in the exact direction of the fire place.
"Mrs. Harrison is cleaning upstairs right now. I can ask her to make some soup if ya'd like?" The boy sat next to her on the hardwood floor and sighed. Ivar twitched her lip, "Yes please."
When the boy left, Ivar had realized she never asked for his name. Even worse, as the fire was glowing ardent flames of orange and red, she realized she disobeyed her mother's command. The flames seemed to be screaming that rule  with each tick the fire roared.
"Don't let them see you. Hide!"
The boy came back with a red bowl, steam rose slowly from it. He sat it down next to Ivar and made himself comfortable by the fire.
"What's ya name?" Ivar took a sip of the soup.
"Douglas," He hesitated, "Roger."
"Douglas Roger," Ivar repeated back to him.
"Yes."
"That's a fancy name," She said. Douglas looked at her with a solemn expression, "Really?"
"Yes."
"Most people know me as the spoiled rich kid. Ain't nobody said my name was fancy. Most people scowl when I say my last name," Douglas explained. Ivar just sat still and watched the fire. Her feet were warming up along with the rest of her body.
"Can I stay here tonight?"
"'Course ya can," Douglas said with a cherry smile on his face.
"Wait, Douglas, you can't tell nobody 'bout me staying here."
"Why not?"
"'Cause I don't got a family anymore. My mom told me nobody should see me," Ivar explained while taking tiny sips of her soup.
"Well how's you supposed to survive?"
A tear came crawling up her eye and soon slithered down her check slowly like a raindrop on a window. Ivar just shook her head. She had no idea what was going to happen.
Later that night, Ivar followed Douglas to his room. His room was big with a lamp in the corner lighting up the few dark spots it had. Douglas made a bed in the closet and told Ivar she could sleep there for the time being.
"Goodnight, Ivar." He smiled and shut the door closed. Douglas's parents arrived home and he could hear because yelling was bellowing up the tall and narrow staircase. Ivar heard the yelling but stayed silent and still in the closet. Douglas shut his lamp off and climbed into an already made, double sized bed.
As morning approached, Ivar found herself awake most of the night. She had only slept a few hours. Her makeshift bed Douglas made for her was comfortable; a few fleece blankets and two square pillows. Ivar opened the closet door to find Douglas out of his bed, staring out the tall window beside his dresser.
"It snowed again," He said. Ivar stumbled to her feet and ran over to Douglas. She tried looking out the window by standing on her toes— she couldn't really see much. It has snowed more, though.
Vermont winters were brutal.
"Ya hungry?" Asked Douglas. Ivar spotted her stomach with a hand and a rumble tickled her palm, "Yeah."
Douglas lead her downstairs and the kitchen was even more glorious than she thought. It had white and black checkered tiles, wooden pyramid styled table posts, and a few hutches with textured glass windows. Douglas showed her to the cabinet and grabbed Cheerios from the top shelf. He grabbed two ceramic bowls and poured in a generous amount of cereal.
"Here ya go."
"Thanks," Ivar smiled.

Douglas's parents were gone 'till seven at night, leaving he and Ivar alone.
And that day their cleaner, Mrs. Harrison, was also gone. Douglas proposed the idea of going outside and playing in the snow— and that's what they did. Both children bundled up in thick wool coats, and even thicker snow boots. Ivar remembered how her family would always play in the snowfall whenever it had blizzard like this. She helped Douglas heave the sleds from the garage and outside. On the snowy hill, the children seemed happy. They sled down the steep and snowy slope and laughs bellowed from their mouths.
Ivar was happy.
She'd think she could do this her whole life— without a family.
The children went to the lake in the afternoon and Douglas had shown her how to skate. By five, it had gotten dark and snow started falling from the sky. They raced each other home.
"I'm faster than you!" Douglas yelled while he ran through the darkened night. Ivar followed right after him, giggling all the way.
When they got back to Douglas' home, he lit the fire place; his father had taught him when he was seven. Ivar sat down in front of the blazing orange and stared at the uproar the fire made.
She was warm.
Douglas took a seat next to her, and nothing was said. No words or glances of glee were exchanged, just the company of somebody else was enough for Ivar; even if they just stared quietly at a fire.
"Where does the sun goes when it sets?" Ivar broke the silence and turned to look at the boy. The boy looked down at his feet and sighed.
"Below the horizon," He said. Ivar held a fixed study at his facial expression's and quickly turned her gaze back at the fire. Ivar didn't want the boy to think she was dumb or naive; she wasn't anything of the sort. Ivar was a girl of curiosity with questions nobody answered.
When the sun sets, the world doesn't just turn dark; it turns quiet. For some reason, people think that when it's dark there needs to be a stillness. The world is ill with silence of peoples mouths'. When it gets dark, Ivar loves it; so where does the sun go when it decides to tell the earth to be quiet? It has to go somewhere, not just below the horizon.
"It goes somewhere else," Douglas started, "It goes to a different part of earth."  Ivar looked at him once again, this time with an understanding.
There's light somewhere else, always.