Tricks was shaking as she knocked on the door to the little house on the corner. The windows were dark, the door closed, the paint peeling. It looked abandoned but she was almost certain that the priest still lived here.
“This place?” Ethan looked doubtful. “Somebody who will help us?”
“Yes,” Tricks trembled to her toes. “Yes, I think he’ll help us.”
The door opened slowly and an elderly man peered out. He saw Tricks and started, drawing himself back as quickly as possible.
“No, no, no!” Tricks cried, hurriedly. “We’re not like that. Don’t worry, Father Patcher.”
He frowned at her. “Do I know you, daughter?”
“Sort of,” Tricks glanced at Ethan. “Can we come in?”
“Sort of?” Father Patcher shook his head. “I don’t open the door to sort of.”
“Please, Father!” Tricks begged. “It’s me! Hella Parmerio.”
Father Patcher stood up straight. “By the heavens!”
“Let me in?” Tricks pleaded.
“At once, my child! At once!”
The door was opened and Tricks scampered inside, Ethan following close behind.
“This is Ethan, Father,” Tricks introduced him. “I’m looking after him.”
“Charitable,” Father Patcher smiled, a little sarcastically. “Pleased to meet you, my son.”
“Delighted, Father,” Ethan bowed the stiff, regular bow of a countryman.
“Hella!” Father Patcher looked on Tricks in wonder. “It’s been so many years!”
“Six or seven or something like that,” Tricks agreed.
“More,” Father Patcher shook his head. “More than that, my child. Yes, I can recognise you now. The Parmerio jawline. Eyes just like your mother, you know.”
Tricks smiled weakly. “It’s…been a while, huh?”
“Where have you been?” Father Patcher demanded. “I looked all over for you! I owed it to your parents to take care of you! But I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I ran away,” Tricks explained. “I was ashamed. My parents…”
“Poor girl,” Father Patcher pulled her into a hug. “Goodness, didn’t you know that we loved you? Everybody loved you, child! You should have come home!”
“I couldn’t,” Tricks shook her head. “There was too much screaming. I’ve changed.”
“You’ve grown up,” Father raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Into a hooligan and a trickster, by the look of you. A street child. You should have been one of us.”
“Yes,” Tricks pulled a face. “Things went a bit odd. I’m sort of a thief now. And sort of a gang-leader’s second. And sort of a killer. And sort of a mistake. And sort of lost. And sort of confused. And sort of asking for forgiveness.”
“Then I sort of forgive you,” Father Patcher told her, his smile warm and welcoming as a hearth fire. “And God, wherever he may be, forgives you completely.”
Tricks let out a sigh of relief. “It’s…been a long time since my last confession. I think we’d better save the details for later.”
“I expect you came for a reason,” Father Patcher glanced at Ethan. “You wouldn’t bring this boy with you on a trip back home, would you?”
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The Rising Dawn
AdventureTwenty years ago, two thirds of the world's population silently and mysteriously died in one instant. A new regime fell into place: a regime controlled by the Ruler. Confined within place, ordered and structured, the new regime is designed to keep...
