IceBerg - 26. Chapter 26

‘Hello!’

Someone was shaking me. I blinked. I was in a tree. It was still bitter cold, and I was curled up so tight I could barely feel my legs.

‘You okay, there?’

The voice was a rough male, an older man’s voice. I blinked again and looked up at the blurred face.

‘Um,’ is all my voice could croak out.

I took a look at the man’s face. His face was aged, the grey thick beard and a floppy hat.

I shook my head.

‘Look, son,’ he reached his hand out. His accent was strange.

He was dressed very old fashioned, as if he appeared from the sixties. His large dry hand gave a gentle clasp on my thin arm.

‘Would you like to come out?’

My legs were frozen but, still, I nodded. A weak nod but a nod.

‘Okay, come on then,’ he grabbed my hand and pulled me out from under the tree. I kicked my legs out and let him pull me out with his strong grip. I was out of the tree but I could not get up, my legs lay out in front of me, weak as a baby.

‘Would you like help getting up?’ he asked me.

I nodded, looking down. If he knew who I was, he’d leave me here alone.

‘Alright,’ he put an arm around my shoulders. ‘One, two.’ He lifted me up and I rocked a little on feet but I stood still. I leaned on him slight but I put as much force as I could onto my feet.

He still had his arm holding me up, ‘You are not well. Come. My wife will make you some soup.’

He led me to a small isolated farm, stranded in the middle of a field. He opened the door and the old smell of musk was strong in the air. A natural odder that floated, there was a dry hay scattered along the floor.

‘Elizabeth!’ he called out, stumbling with me to the wooden stool. I perched down, leaning back against the brick wall.

A woman appeared, similar in age to him, her blonde grey hair tied back into a bun, her old tatty long skirt and shirt were grey and brown. She also looked like she had stepped out of the sixties.

‘Thomas!’ she gasped, wiping her clothes down and rushing to me. ‘Heavens! Where was he?’

She looked into my eyes, clutching at my hands, on her knees.

‘He was in the tree. He is not so good.’

She rubbed the side of my face; her hand was soft and caring. I closed my eyes.

I missed my mum so much.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ she rubbed my cheek. ‘Can you speak, my dear?’

Her voice was soothing and sweet. Not harsh and clipped like I expected. But then what did I expect?

I nodded, ‘Sorry, I, um.’

‘Does it hurt anywhere?’ the man bent down too, taking his black hat off and placing it on the table.

I shook my head.

‘You look so hungry; we shall give you some food. Come, sit,’ Thomas nodded at his wife who bowed her head and strode over to the large black pot under the cooker.

I followed Thomas and sat at the small table. I clasped my hands in front of me. I suddenly took note of the old brown walls, the bareness of the room, there was hardly anything in here, no electricity, just a table and some chairs.

Needed to respect their culture or whatever this was. I kept my eyes down and my hands stretched out. I guess I asked God to look after me. I just hadn’t expected this.

‘Have you been out there a long time?’

I looked up to Thomas sitting across from me.

I licked my dry lips and croaked out, ‘Not long.’

‘Here you go,’ Elizabeth placed an old grey bowl in front me, steaming green and potato soup. The warmth smothered my face; the smell of vegetables was very strong. I took the wooden thick spoon and blew over the bowl and took a sip. It was so filling already. I needed to eat this. I couldn’t reject their kindness.

I took little sips.

Elizabeth sat next to me. I began to wonder if all of this is a dream too but she reached over and covered her warm hand over mine. The warmth and rawness of her skin. It was real. Definitely real.

Real.

‘What is your name, sweetheart?’ she asked, trying to catch my eye.

I gulped some more soup back, the thick warm green soup, and cleared my throat a little, ‘Nathanial.’

‘Nathanial is a strong name,’ Thomas said.

‘Can you tell us where you are from?’

I didn’t say anything, instead I forced some more soup down my parched throat.

‘You are welcome to stay here as long as you like Nathanial,’ Elizabeth squeezed my hand.

‘Thank you,’ I murmured, drinking more of the soup, the vegetables settling more comfortably in my stomach now.

They did not ask many more questions.

I had no idea how long I had been here, maybe one day maybe three or four, but the old house started to feel comfortable, I felt very much at this strange home. I managed to find my voice more; it strengthened more with the water they gave me.

Later on, they showed me their little black bible, their pages were almost yellow and worn down. I bowed my head down and read, not wanting to upset my kind hosts. I offered to help Thomas out with the farm but he chuckled, shaking his head and told me I needed to rest.

Ended up lying in rough bed, covering with rocks and hay, but I was so worn out. I had no idea how physically exhausted I was.

                                                   ***

‘You have been so amazing to me, I won’t be staying long’ I told them as it began to get dark outside, the candles flickered, their faces were shadow outlines with the rest of the room. It was so dim in here and a little cold.

‘You are welcome to stay as long as you want,’ Elizabeth said, again, sitting next to me, her bible open, her hand holding onto a page.

‘You have been so kind to me, but,’ I kept saying. ‘I will go as soon as I can.’

‘You are very troubled, son.’

I was startled by Thomas’s voice. But I could not deny his words.

Shrugging, I looked down, ‘You are not wrong.’ I didn’t know what else to say.

There was silence in the room.

‘You should go rest, you are not well,’ Thomas came around to me, shuffling his feet. ‘Go, rest. We will leave a jug of water next to your stand.’

I stood up, there was more strength in my legs now. I smiled and turned to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder giving it a squeeze before letting go.

The narrow steps gave a heavy creak as I climbed up them back to the hay rock bed.

Were they even looking for me? Everyone back home?

Lying there, on my back, I could feel the bed flat and hard. I turned over to my side, looking out the slotted frame of a window. I felt the air rush against my face and I closed my eyes, huddling into more pillow, I pulled up the thin blanket to my neck and closed my eyes. I was aware of the musk smell of the clothes they had given me; my own clothes were hung over a stool. These clothes were knotty and there was little itch of unknown item against my skin.

***

I woke up, the sun light resting on my face. My face felt a little groggy but I woke up more, sitting up in the bed, I took a one sweep look around the room, the last few days coming back to me. I looked towards the bright light from the open window, making no fight against the bright light on my face.

I must have had a dreamless sleep. I did feel rested. I saw my clothes and got changed.

I went to run a hand through my hair but all I feel is cold skin. Oh yes. I shaved my head. I forgot. How could I forget?

Creeping downstairs and despite my careful effort, the steps still creaked under my foot. I gritted my teeth and carried on down the stairs. It was dead air; there was no one here. I walked over to the table. The light shined onto the table. There was a bowl next to the black large pot, it was empty with a wooden thick spoon resting against it. I glanced up the stairs before I walked over to the pot. Lifting the lid, the heat rose and flushed into my face.

Wiping at my face with my sleeve, I then scooped some of the green thick liquid into the bowl. I placed the lid back onto the pot and picked up the bowl.

I ate as much as I could.

It was so quiet. I heard slight cow noises outside, and some hay being flickered about. Ah okay. They were awake. Of course, they were.

They just got on with their life. It must have been hard, getting up, doing the same thing. They really did get on with things. They were so alone here in these woods too.

They had a magic sort of air here. Strength was in odd places.

I smiled. I stood up to put the bowl away.

‘Ah!’

We all almost bumped into each other.

‘Sorry,’ I held my hands up in the air.

‘Good morning, son,’ Thomas smiled at me. ‘Glad to see you are up.’

‘I am,’ I said. ‘I am going to be on my way this morning; I just wanted to thank you.’

‘You are off already?’ frowned Thomas.

‘But you need more rest!’ protested Elizabeth.

Their faces frowned and for a split second, it was like I was staring at my own parents.

I should have stayed. It was nice here, relaxing, and I felt so safe here.

‘You have done so much for me,’ I said ‘But I should leave. Can you let me know how to get the main town from here?’

They exchanged worried looks before Thomas stepped forward, ‘If you must go, I will take my cart and go to the hill of the town. Are you okay to walk from there?’

                                                 ***

‘Here we are,’ Thomas clicked his tongue and his horse tripped a little and stopped. The wagon shuddered a little before coming to a stop. The town buildings were stretched out under the hill we were on.

‘Thank you, Thomas,’ I shake his hand before I clambered off the wooden wagon.

‘Take care my friend,’ he lifted his black hat off to me.

‘You too,’ I paused. ‘Do you ever get curious? Maybe change, and go into the city,’ I nodded over to the busy town.

He smiled, ‘I am in love with all that God has granted me. We do not need any changes.’

His words were so genuine. I smiled back.

He clicked his tongue and the horse began to turn around. I turned around myself, staring out at this unknown small town. Okay. I placed my hood over my head and began to climb down the hill.

It had taken me twenty minutes but I had walked into town, the sun still baring down on me. I kept my hood over, hiding my face. I walked along the busy path, in and out of block groups of people. These shops, the brands were familiar but the sizes of the shops were large, and it gave me an unsettling in my stomach for some reason.

I didn’t have a plan. What was my plan?

I had been walking all day; my feet had a dull ache now. I sat on the bench, staring, watching people.

The clear skies were starting to darken now; the snap glow of streetlights stole my attention.

I wrapped my arms around myself, pulling my sleeves over my hands. It would be night soon and I had no idea where I will go. My stomach rumbled a little, wanting more food, wanting that simple soup again. I snorted a bit, rubbing my face before I stood up.

Going through the crowds, I saw dog walkers and mothers with prams, business men, walking home, carrying their coats in their arms, teenagers sulking past, holding hands. Local shops and businesses were closing down for the day.

I saw a sign ahead of me, a map, this small town, it was almost worn out and had slurs sprayed all over. Could barely read this thing so I still had no idea which town I was in. I didn’t want to ask anyone either.

An old phone box was hidden in a corner, I paused, leaning against the wall looking at it. If I had money, I could have made a call.

I would have called my dad, just so he wasn’t worried about me. He probably was. Oli would be. Oli stressed a lot. So, if I had money, I would have rung Oli and my dad. But I didn’t bring anything with me. If I died no one would know.

‘That makes you pretty selfish right,’ sneered Jake. ‘Or stupid.’

I gave a rough wipe to my wet eyes, giving a harsh clear of the throat before walking on. The crowds of people were decreasing into small couplets, a single person. Everyone was going home.

The realisation hit me. I had no idea where I was. I had no way of contacting anyone. No phone. No ID. I was a nameless walking corpse.

I saw a familiar building ahead. I hurried towards it, lifting my head a little above my hood. The old brick sanded brick work, the large bell. An old church, older than my mum’s.

A flush of relief filled me. I could stay here. I went to the large old wooded door. It was locked. I bit my lip and climbed down the steps, going around the side of the building, past the hundred-year-old gravestones.

I tried to open the little black door but it stayed firm and shut. Ah.

I slid down, my back still against the door. I rested my head against it. My eyes felt so heavy. Huddling as much as I could against the door, I could feel the smooth black wood being harsh against my spine. There was a lot of noise from the night belting out.

I didn’t realise how everything was so noisy.