Obadiah

Fourteen

He kept his eyes ahead of him for the rest of the ride.

Guinevere was quiet and Isaiah was singing.

The boy was happy.

It was nice to hear happiness from a child instead of sorrow, but Obadiah was glad it ended when they arrived at Guinevere's house.

He wasn't used to all the noise, even if it was happy.

He parked the wagon and took Isaiah and the little wagon from the back.

"Wee!" The boy cheered.

Guinevere followed and swooped him out of the wagon.

"Time's up, darling," She kissed his forehead and placed him on the ground. "I'll only be a short while with lunch. Please, make yourself comfortable," She said to Obadiah before entering the cottage with Isaiah following closely.

Obadiah unhitched the horses and led them to water.

He hoped this afternoon went better than the last like it.

"Lord, let it be better," He prayed quickly before going inside.

Guinevere was in the kitchen with Lydia attached to her, and Isaiah was sitting on the floor.

Obadiah sat on the cushioned chair, and Isaiah scooted in front of him.

"Do you like toys?"

He looked around to see who Isaiah was talking to but realized the question was for him.

"I don't know." He answered honestly.

Isaiah's doe eyes widened. "Why not?"

Obadiah stared blankly at the talkative child.

How could he explain to a child the horrific lack he suffered as a child?

He wouldn't.

"Because."

He wondered how the child could talk so much being so little.

Isaiah narrowed his eyes and hummed.

He shot up and ran to the bedroom.

Obadiah sighed and leaned back in the chair.

He liked the boy, he just didn't know what to do with him.

"Bless the Holy One on high," Guinevere sang softly as Lydia gently grabbed her face.

Obadiah sat up and peered.

What a view.

She was one beautiful woman.

And it was okay to notice.

She was like moving art.

Weird.

And her voice was nice. Soft, pretty, and melodic like the harmonious buzzing of his bees.

He liked this.

The door slammed and Isaiah came running with toys in his hands.

Obadiah sighed and looked away from Guinevere to the bright child.

"Try," Isaiah placed a toy beside Obadiah's feet and sat in front of him with toys of his own.

Obadiah looked at the toy and the boy.

What did he want him to do with it?

"Mommy gots me toys to play. You play too." Isaiah explained to the surely confused man. "You can like it." He added while making his horse toys jump.