Emotion

Chapert 3: The Past can be Cold

That night was the first night they could really relax. Harrison had found a clearing in the woods were they could sleep. They didnt have to worry about getting caught by a train conductor, or getting yelled at for squatting in someone's barn. One of them didn't have to stay up and watch as the other slept .And they didn't need to be up at a specific time.

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                      The cold water made it hard to breath. Oliver had been in for a little less then five minutes, but he was ready to get out. The water felt like winter. All He nerves went numb and his lungs felt warm, not like the warm feeling you get after you get in bed after a long day, but a warm feeling that made him feel ill, as if his lungs weren't filled with air, but hot soup. The lake got deeper the farther he went in. He would only go in the freezing water up to his chest, where he could take off his clothes and properly bathe, or at least as properly as he could, since he didnt have soap.

        He started shivering after a couple more minutes. For some strange reason, he realized he liked the feeling. He liked feeling something. Even if it wasn't something soft or comfortable, at least it was something. Something to show he was still alive.

He dunked his head in the icy water and remembered when he was younger.

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                 His mother tucked Oliver into bed . She tucked him up, nice and tight, but he still felt the chill of December. When he was seven. She had told him little stories at night. Stories like fairytales and stories with happy endings. He always loved hearing them. But that night, when Oliver's mother tucked him in and sat on the other side of the bed, like she always did, she just stared at him, for a long time.

"What, mama?" he asked "Thinkin' of the story?"

She sat quiet for a second longer , then shook her head.

"No, no." she muttered. "Once there was a little family..." she started then paused.

"Once there was a little family of two. A mother and son. The mother had been sad for a long time, but every time she saw her little boy, she smiled. She felt the joy under her skin, and in her bones. Her only joy in life was her little boy. It was strange how you can feel a feeling so strongly that it was no longer a little old feeling, but something anyone else could feel, as if it where physical and no longer an emotion. She glowed with happiness just looking at him. Maybe the reason was not because he was her son, but because he made her forget. Forget the pain and hurt and the broken pieces of herself. And maybe it was the joy inside her little boy that made her happy. His smile was like her own sun, her own moon and stars. He brought her out of her tiring depression when ever he was around..."

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                   And then the story began to get fuzzy. Oliver lifted his head out of the water.It was strange, he remembered something like that. He never really understood the story.
              He got out of the water, letting the cold drops of water run down his face and fall on the dirt and grass. He stared at how brown the grass was and for a second he imagend that the drops of water were drops of paint, bringing the grass back to the lively green it ought to be, just like the little boy did for his mother.

       Harrison was still asleep. Oliver didnt wake him. He just walked over and sat down. The story his mother told replaying in his head. He remembered the ending, not word for word, but he remembered. He remembered that the story had a sad ending. Something about the boy losing his shine and the mother crying her self to sleep frequently. He somewhat chased the memory away.        

                  Oliver half tried to remember it word for word, but didn't care much, so he just let it be. He laid back a looked up at the empty sky, not a cloud, not a bird or even a speck crossed his vision.