Pieces of Us

Part 2

He looked away from the flowers and continued on. Not too much farther, yes he could see it now. At the end of the street was his destination. A house painted deep blue stood with minimal damage. Windows were shattered, shingles were torn off but other than that it was pretty stable. As he walked closer, emotion stirred in him. He moved quickly past wrecked and abandoned cars and avoided the fallen street lights in his path. He slowed as he came upon the building, gazing at it for a few seconds. He tentatively made his way up the steps to the door and slipped inside. Looking around at the front hall he remembered the last time he saw the place.

The air was chilled as he stood by the door, holding his crying wife. It was painful to see her like this, it killed him. He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head.

“Shhh darling, it’ll be okay. I’ll be back, I promise,” he whispered to her. She sucked in a breath and tried to calm down. She looked up at him in his now tear-stained uniform. She cracked a smile and wiped her tears away. 

“I know, I know. But I’ll miss you. And the baby...” She trailed off and he hugged her closer to him.

“Take care of him, in a few years I’ll be back. I’ll write and I’ll call if I can. I’ll miss you too. I love you,” he said, looking down at her. She nodded, sniffling slightly.

“I love you too.”

He wandered through the rooms, first the kitchen where there were some dirtied plates in the sink and pans on the stove. From somewhere upstairs, a quiet voice could be heard. The soft cry of a baby sliced through the silence that choked the house. He climbed the stairs onto the second floor. He peeked through each of the doors, checking for the origin of the noise. He reached the end of the hall and poked his head into the room. In the middle of the room was a woman. She sat next to a crib, where she sang to the baby inside. This wasn’t any woman, it was her, Matilda. For a few moments he could only stand there, frozen at the sight. She was in rough shape, dirt was smeared across her cheeks and her hair was messy in its bun. She was crying, moisture flowing from her beautiful blue eyes. The sight of her now was food for a starving man, salvation for a sinner. He moved forward towards her, kneeling down to her level. With his thumb he caught her tears, wiping them away. He then pressed his lips to her forehead in an affectionate way. 

A shiver ran down Matilda’s spine as she lifted her head and looked around frantically. She placed her hand on her cheek, it had been such a strange feeling. It was as if her cheek had been touched. Though as a slight breeze floated through the room, it was obvious that there was nobody there. She looked back to her son.

“How odd,” she murmured as she watched his small chest rise and fall. Just as she began to dismiss the feeling, a gust of chilling air burst through the room. With it was an almost inaudible whisper, so quiet she almost missed it. Three little words that gave her a sense of peace, a sense of understanding.

“I love you.”