Elle Yomin knelt down to be eye-level with the boy; her long hair touching the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest. She felt a chill despite the warmth of the fireplace, certain that this child’s wandering was by Quinton’s guidance

“They’ll come for him,” Alle said, holding a pair of spectacles at his side. The boy pressed his back against the wall. “You’d think he’s never seen a bearded man before.”

She felt the cautious look he gave her without having to see his face. Her main concern was to alleviate the fear before her. Of course the child was scared, not knowing what was being said. Sadly, Elle knew that neither she nor her husband spoke the dialect. “Then we have to protect him,” she said.

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t, dear.” He spat into his hand and held it out before the boy.

Elle gestured for him to spit into Alle’s hand.  The boy didn’t move. She took her husband’s hand and spat into it. Alle’s expression made the boy smile. With a nod, she encouraged him to do the same.

He complied, watching as Alle mixed the spittle together. Long slender fingers wiped the juices on the earpieces of a pair of spectacles, the color turning a shade darker than before. Smiling, Mr. Yomin held the spectacles out, the frightened, yet curious boy putting them on.

“Good,” Mr. Yomin said, “now we don’t have to play guessing games.”

“We don’t,” the boy asked softly, a confused expression on his face now.

Elle took the boy’s hands in hers. “No, dear, we don’t.” She introduced herself and her husband. “And what is your name?”

“Atkinson,” he said. “Can you help me find my sister?”

Excerpt by T. Tommia Wright   Published with Permission

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