Existing (under editing)

Chapter 7*

It had been a surprise to have Lucas's memories come back so soon. I had assumed it would take a week or so but it had been so sudden it had shocked us. For a couple of days he had stayed quiet, not wanting to talk of them. We had sat by the fire eating dinner and he would just stare. Day after day I would watch as his physical wounds healed and scars form but his mind, elsewhere and haunted by images I could not see. I had asked him once what was wrong and all he could say was, You have it good here Alma, don't you ever forget that. He had started to tear up and retreated outside to sit out on the porch, watching the rain drizzle down and the animals scuttle by in the mud, getting home and out of the wet at soon as possible. I would watch from the window and Pepper would just shake his head at me saying it was useless to try.

I did my best of occupying myself, cooking and painting, even practicing my speaking in the times that I was alone up in my room. Lucas did not dare challenge to venture up there. He wasn't challenging anything, lost in his memories and brain dead to the world with his empty expression and breezy way of moving with no definite meaning or direction. And it was starting to worry me, along with what was preserved within fathers' journal.

I had tried to read it with no such luck. But was I ready to? What could father had possibly been through and documented? When the spring storms ended and the land had dried I had made it my mission to cheer Lucas up. I dragged him out of the cabin in my father's boots and clothing. They were a little tight on him but they fit, stretching the buttons along his chest and I had to let the hem down on the pants to cover his ankles. I taught him how to fish. He seemed to enjoy it. The silence was a pleasant kind, but before long one night it had gotten dark and I had an idea. Lucas had lost hope in the world. One I did not know. But with this, I knew it would cheer him up. Just as it had for me. We had reeled in the rods and I had locked up my little shed when I managed to work up the courage to approach him.

"Do you want to see something amazing?" his head had perked up from its drooping position and his eyes looked inquisitive as I tried to help him escape the sorrow of his memories.

"Sure," he answered his voice slightly groggy shrugging his shoulders.

I nodded and told him to wait here as he reeled in his rod; the sun was starting to set. I crept onto the porch and gently squeezed the door open. Pepper had fallen asleep earlier on in this warm, summery night and was snoring in his little bed, far gone and wouldn't be waking any time soon. We would be going through rougher forest tonight so I gathered up my skirt and slipped on my boots over my bare feet and then grabbed a long candle and some matches, careful not to make too much sound. I shut the door behind me and jumped off the porch into a run, coming around to Lucas waiting in the fading light, standing with his hands in his pockets watching the moon as it got darker. His sleeves rolled up to show his masculine arms and his body language showed ease as he breathed in the air, closing his eyes for a moment. His hair was slicked back as he occasionally ran his figures through when it fell into his eyes from his unruly blond curls. The swell on his head was almost completely gone now and only a cut remanded. He came to the attention I was there as I stepped on a twig, I jumped at how unfamiliarly heavy the boots where on my feet, feeling funny compared to how they were usually always bare. Not often did I like to wear them and I disliked socks even more.

"Hold this," I gave him the candle as he turned to me, he held it in the one hand casually with the other still in his pocket. I leaned down and dragged the match across a rock, fumbling with the packet, after some tries it became a light and I quickly brought it to the candle as it jumped, catching to the wick. The flames' light flickering a little and becoming stable as Lucas watched. His hand not faltering as I took it off him and taking his hand in my spare one, leading the way, away from the shed.