Once Upon a Time

Storms

Matthew Lindon was ten years old, but didn't like being treated like a child. His mum often teased him about being an old man trapped in a child's body, but Matthew didn't mind. He often felt that way, especially when George Durham was being an idiot and eating dirt on a dare, or when Madeline Sterling chased him around, demanding a kiss.

They were his best friends, but they were so childish.

And that, Matthew supposed, was the reason why he was now on his way to Georgie's house, despite the fact that he was still angry at his best friend. Just yesterday, Georgie had run to Maddy's and told her that Matthew loved her. Which was true, he supposed, but not in that way that his Pa loved his Ma. He didn't like being treated like a child, but it didn't mean he was a grown-up.

Maddy, of course, had gotten silly over Georgie's news; the next thing Matthew knew, Maddy had shown up at his house, nattering about getting married and kissing under the willows. Naturally, his Pa had boxed his ears, yelling at him about being too young to make those kinds of promises, and sending Maddy home in tears.

Matthew really hated Georgie sometimes, but he was his best friend; he suspected they'd always be best friends, even if they annoyed the hell out of each other. And Matthew was okay with that; that's was just how things seemed to be.

His short legs took him through the cemetery his Pa looked after, weaving him in between and around the tombstones that decorated the green grass in neat little rows. For as long as Matthew could remember, his Pa had always been the caretaker of the cemetery, a job that had been given to the older Lindon at the age of eighteen. The church had given Mark Lindon the responsibility after graduating from its orphanage and showing a great deal more of aptitude and responsibility than the others.

It was a comfortable life, and Matthew knew it was something to be grateful for. His Pa worked hard, it put food on the table, and they had a small, but comfortable cottage to live on, one right on the cemetery grounds.

Matthew continued to make his way through the grounds, his steps nearly silent in the grass. Earlier, there had been a funeral service being conducted, and his Pa would box his ears if he'd found out he'd disrupted the burial by stomping around like an elephant.

"Respect the dead," Pa would always say.

So Matthew had taken a wide berth of the procession, avoiding the large crowd of mourners. This had taken him to the outer part of the cemetery, where the tombstones thinned out and the iron fence that ran the perimeter appeared, separating the sacred ground from the neighboring countryside.

That was where he saw it.

His brain didn't register it at first, but as Matthew stood there, shocked at the sudden movement he'd detected from the corner of his eye, comprehension slowly eased its way into his mind, all his annoyance at Georgie and Maddy completely forgotten.

Dozens of black clouds clashed just inside the tree line, like a storm had suddenly moved in. The mass moved and ebbed, sometimes breaking off into separate curls, other times crashing into one another. A low, hissing noise drifted towards the little boy, like several snakes were trying to communicate to one another, but, it didn't sound right to Matthew.

It was an angry sound.

And yet, the clouds stayed just inside the trees, neither advancing nor retreating. Fascinated, Matthew scurried forward, hiding himself behind a fairly large tombstone that sat a few feet away from the iron fence. He carefully peeked around it, his small fingers gripping the edge of the rough stone, his eyes locked onto the strange phenomenon that seemed to be occurring just for him.

It continued to move, the hissing sometimes growing louder, but then something happened. The cloud seemed to vibrate almost violently, the hissing rising in decibel and pitch. Matthew clapped his hands over his ears, his eyes shutting against the painful noise. The wind seemed to pick up around him, throwing dead leaves and fallen branches at him, scratching and biting at him.