Glory Be

Chapter Sixteen

Isaiah tiredly rubbed his eyes. The last hearth had been cleaned. He picked himself off of the ground and rolled his sleeves back down. Isaiah cleaned up the supplies, and silently returned them to a storage closet. First shelf on the right, that's where they went. Isaiah remembered the storage closet at the printshop, he still needed to organize that. Mentally it was re-added to the list.

Isaiah quickly returned to his bedroom. Sydney's t-shirt had become living on the edge of his bed. Nicely folded, but still dirty. He couldn't ask his mother or sisters to do that now. It was passed midnight now. Isaiah swallowed hard. Sydney said he wouldn't mind. He didn't care. Yet, Isaiah picked up the shirt, and left for the backyard.

Where the laundry supplies laid. Neatly collected in a grassy corner. Isaiah sat down and began his best attempt at cleaning Sydney's shirt. The moon was full that night, and the air was humid. Feeling thick and damp against Isaiah's skin.

A noise rustled out of the grass, and Isaiah immediately turned towards it. It was too dark to tell, but it was small. Not easy enough to see. Isaiah squinted, it wasn't Mosby, was it? Or Jonah? Or any of the other cats...

Isaiah let go of Sydney's shirt, letting it soak in the tub of soapy water. He crawled over to the noise and parted the grass with his hands. A dark twisting form. Isaiah shot back.

A snake, it was a snake. Isaiah recoiled his hands towards his chest, but kept his eyes trained on the creature. What kind? Isaiah listened closely for a rattle, and begged for it to fall under the moonlight, so he could see its colors.

Moments passed.

The snake moved closer. A whooshing noise came from the grass as it plowed through. The small creature pushed its way through the environment, sneaking closer. Isaiah didn't move, but there was no rattle. The moonlight found the scales of the snake. Showing off its black top, and red underbelly.

Isaiah's worries fell away. It was harmless. The snake slithered closer to Isaiah, wrapping in front of his knees. Isaiah held out a hand, In front of its face. Offering it to climb onto his palm. The snake pressed its head against Isaiah's skin, then proceeding to slither around his fingers, circling the offer. Isaiah waited patiently. The snake needed to understand him, and he it.

The night carried on.

. . .

"Good morning, Isaiah," Mr. Kowal was the first greeting of the morning. Sydney was off to the right, eyes-closed, laying back on a chair. Isaiah tiredly stepped into the front room. He was barely mentally present.

"Good morning," Isaiah accidently mumbled, "Mr. Kowal, may I organize the storage room today?"

"Sure, son," Mr. Kowal's expression softened, "We're still doing good on the schedule, but only work on it till noon, okay?"

"Understood," Isaiah said, before turning his attention to the supposedly sleeping Sydney, "Sydney? I washed your shirt."

Sydney snorted, made a choking noise, then shot up from the chair.

"What?" Sydney blinked wildly.

"Ugh, Syd," Mr. Kowal rolled his eyes and turned back to a shelf.

"I have your shirt," Isaiah restated, a tired smile almost creeping onto his face.

"Oh thanks," Sydney yawned and held his hand out.

Isaiah handed Sydney the shirt, and his hair fell in front of his eyes. It was too long. It was getting in the way. Isaiah moved the curl out of his face and looked at Sydney. His hair was leaking out of his ponytail. Cascading perfectly around his face, and onto his shoulders.