The Chickadee Girl

The First Awakening

When the boy at last opened his eyes, Isa was genuinely surprised to see that they were bright blue - she would have put smartest money on brown, given his complexion and hair colour. She was standing over him and staring directly into these blue eyes when they first opened; he'd been shifting around and muttering faintly for a few minutes. 

Midas regarded them from the other side of the bed, head cocked inquisitively - as though realizing for the first time that the boy was a living creature. The child took them both in, eyes roving the room aimlessly, and then with real focus. He doesn't look frightened, Isa thought. He actually looks far calmer than I probably do. Of course, he hadn't just watched himself nearly die. 

The boy shifted, and then sat up abruptly, overtaken by a fit of coughing. Isa sat down on the bed beside him, and, once the hacking had subsided, brought some water to his lips. He accepted it gratefully, and there was no suspicion clouding his eyes as he regarded her over the lip of the cup; this was a child who someone had taken care of, who was accustomed to being looked after. He trusted her on sight, and Isa wasn't sure that she was worthy of that trust, or that she wanted it. But still, he was remarkably composed, and there was a maturity in his waking face that she had not expected given his small stature - he might be seven or eight, rather than six.

"Are you my aunt?"

The croaked question, and the sound of another human voice, caught her completely off-guard though she'd seen him open his mouth to speak.

"No. I'm Isa. Why would I be your aunt?"

The boy held her gaze, as though trying to gauge her truthfulness. "I've never met my aunt."

"I'm not her."

"Mum says she's nice."

She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so she brought the cup back up to his lips, and he took another deep swallow.

"What's Isa?"

"That's my name. I'm called Isa. I'm a student at Croft Prep."

He looked around the room, as though only just registering that he wasn't at home. "Why am I at a school?" 

She opened her mouth to explain, but his focus had already shifted. 

"Can I pet the dog?"

Hearing himself addressed, Midas leapt onto the bed, clearly having been hoping for just such an opening. Isa, painfully aware of her own awkwardness with children, struggled to formulate words. Should she be asking questions or explaining? There'd been no recognition on his face when she'd mentioned the name of the school. She'd been hoping he was from one of the local farms, but perhaps he'd come further - if he was a local boy, he'd have known the school's name, at least. It was a local landmark.

"What do I call you?"

He smiled, hands wrist deep in Midas's golden shag. "Tristan."

"How are you feeling? You were badly hurt when I found you in the forest." She fought not to overwhelm him with questions, and swiftly lost the battle.

"What happened to you? What were you doing out there? Did someone attack you? Did you see what it was?"

He continued to stroke the dog, but appeared to be considering the questions. A moment later: "My chest hurts. And I'm hungry."

Isa reached into Kate's bulging backpack, and produced one of the roughly hewn cheese sandwiches she'd crafted before leaving Peyman. It was squashed almost beyond recognition, a hunk of mangled cheesy play dough, but the boy's eyes doubled in size, and he eagerly snatched it from her as soon as she was within his arm's reach. He certainly didn't have the reflexes of one so recently injured. She let him eat, and then asked the question again.