Wine Woods

20. Humming of the Cherry Trees.

Alfred coughed, his elbow onto his mouth. He felt a tickle in his throat. He was flying from Port Dover, too the Capital. Goldie flapped fast, and Columbia sat on his lap. 

"Why am I coming with you?" Columbia groaned, leaning into his chest. Alfred shook his head and smiled.

"Raids on the coast," Alfred said, "Now, what's the date today? You always need to know the date in time of war."

"Um... August 24th of the year 1814," Columbia replied, "Now, my question: when will I be able to see uncle Matthew?"

"I don't know," Alfred said, "he's in Canada now."

"Why are we attacking Canada?"

"We aren't attacking Canada, we are fighting England."

"Why?"

"Politics, sweetheart, politics," Alfred sighed, hearing thunder and seeing a flash of lighting. The wind blew in from behind him and Goldie tilted her wings to catch it, and they sped down towards the capital. Alfred sighed.

Matthew was in Canada at the moment. His children were with Alfred, although they had been debating to send them to Gilbert. There was an agreement that they wouldn't- Prussia was incredibly dangerous at the moment, that sending two children into the fray was not a good idea. Even though America wasn't the best now at the moment either. Nothing was behaving like it was supposed too.

Alfred shouted, "Down!" as they got closer to the Capital building. It was a dark color at night, only lit by candles and fireplaces, and he flew to the back before telling Goldie to go into the sky. She jumped, and flew, and Alfred set Columbia down.

Columbia reached out to grab his hand on impulse. He was scared, and didn't like it here, but Alfred pulled his hand away.

"Call me 'dad', okay? And if anyone asks about your mother, just say she is at home while I am on business," Alfred said, making the 'she' extremely prominent. 

"Okay... dad," Columbia said, following behind him with his hands behind his back. Alfred occasionally glanced back to make sure he was okay and still following, before finding what he was looking for.

"Hang out in the Library for a little, buddy," Alfred said, giving a small smile, "I need to talk with people."

"All right, dad," Columbia said, walking up to sit in front of the fireplace of the room. A woman looked at him and smiled, before going back to writing. A slave was tidying up something on the opposite end of the room. All in all, it was very quiet.

Columbia stared into the fire, and smiled. He loved fire. It made him feel warmth inside and out. It made him feel good, so much better than the cold.

He could remember the cold, feeling the chill to his bones and feeling his teeth rattling as his mother held him, ever so cold he was as well, trying to make him feel better. If just a little. It wasn't a lot.

But now, now it was so warm.

He closed his eyes and scooted closer to the blaze, staring at the rippling colors. The orange, the yellow, the red that rested deep in the center. He laid down in front of it. It must have looked pretty silly. A boy, nine or ten or eleven, with black hair and blue eyes and such white skin he looked ghostly, sitting in front of the roaring heat.

He could feel it against his cheeks, spreading through his face down his neck through his body all the way down to his toes.

And he smiled. He giggled to himself. The woman walked over to check on him, smiling at him softly, like his mother looked at him. He smiled back, his hair wild from the static of the carpet in front of the blaze. She laughed, waving before walking away. He waved back, even though she was no longer looking.