Tatiana's POV

"Thank goodness you're back!", I said, rushing to embrace Emile when he returned that evening. "Are you alright, son? Here, come inside so you can get warmed up."

"It's okay, Momma", he replied, giving me a small, tired smile. "How are you all? I've got wonderful news!"

Emile's POV

Though it may surprise some, I felt relieved to be at the encampment once more. It was home after all. Inside the hovel, to make up for the constant draft whistling through the cracks in the entrance, a small fire flickered in the stove.

I paused briefly to set the large paper bag in my arms aside. I'd show everyone what was inside soon.

Giving Bennett a hug and kissing Momma's cheek, I looked towards Da's bed. As I'd hoped, he was awake now. Sitting propped up slightly by his pillows, he smiled.

"I'm so happy you're safe", he said. Taking off my hat and scarf, I settled myself close and held his hand. Then, I told the three of them everything. From all I had seen and heard, of Morris's Seafood restaurant, and finally of Ms. Shaw and how she'd given me a job in her bakery.

"We're all very proud of you, Emile", they told me.

"Ms. Shaw said she could pay me $15 for helping her keep the bakery swept up, tidy, and shoveling the snow from the front and back steps Monday through Friday", I explained. "In the meantime, she sent a few things back with me."

In the paper bag, there were some cookies, a small loaf of bread and folded at the bottom was a blanket and a quilt. After sharing some of the food amongst ourselves, I spread the blanket out on my bed and gave the quilt to Da.

Mig's POV

I couldn't lie still, no matter how much I tried. Shivering in lieu of my quilt and blankets, my eyes were tightly shut and my breathing had quickened. All of a sudden, I was a child again...racing down a darkened hallway.

"Mig!...MIG!", yelled the furious and insistent voice of one of my many foster fathers. "COME BACK HERE! DON'T THINK I'M DONE WITH YOU YET, YOU STUPID BRAT!"

In that man's house, at the end of the hall, there had been a closet. When he had begun beating me, that's one place where I'd escaped and hid.

Reaching for the doorknob, turning it, and opening the door just enough, I hurried inside. My only mistake? Allowing it to slam shut behind me. Hearing rushed footsteps, I turned to lock it...but the door quickly flew wide open! This recurring nightmare ended with both mine and little Mig's pleas and screams.

Emile's POV

I blinked and my eyes widened at what I saw next. His covers askew, Da was flailing and seemed to be completely delirious. Scrambling from my bed as I had so many times before, I tried my best to soothe him.

"Da, sssh!", I whispered, helping him to lie still. "I'm right here...you're safe..."

As his face relaxed and his breathing settled, I covered his curled up, shaking body and rummaged through his knapsack for a clean washcloth to prepare.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"This nightmare I keep having", he said. "It's time you knew about it."

"Da, what are you talking about?", I asked.

"It's a memory, Emile", he replied. "That's what this is."

It was then that Da told me everything he'd been through as a child. The beatings, the shouting and insults, his struggle to read and write, and his arrival at the encampment.

"I would've brought you into the city after I found you...but I was terrified that you'd be hurt too", he said.

"I thought you kept me because you wanted a child of your own?", I asked.

"It was all of those things, Emile", he said. "I loved you too much to let you go."

Now, I was crying too.

"It's okay, Da...I'm glad you took me in."

It was still rather dark when I awoke the following day. Regardless of such a thing, this morning was especially important for both myself and my family.

Quickly but very quietly, I made my bed, got myself cleaned up, got dressed and woke Da so I could help him with all he needed as well. There was still some bread left from last evening so we had that with a little ginger tea as our breakfast.

"I'm sure Momma and Bennett will be here very soon to check on you", I told Da afterwards, putting fresh fuel into the stove and lighting the fire before helping to get him settled.

"I'll be alright ", he replied, smiling sleepily. "Be careful, son and have a good day."

"I will, thank you, Da", I said.

With I love yous and goodbyes exchanged between us, I turned, gently closed the tarp, and left. I did my best to remain calm and arrived at the bakery with a smile.

“Good morning, Ms. Shaw”, I said.

“Good morning, Emile”, she greeted, giving me a bit of a wave and smiling in return.

As it had the day before, my work included shoveling the snow from the front and back steps. I also dusted, wiped off the counters and tables, washed the dishes, filled the napkin holders and kept the place swept up as customers came in and went out. No matter what looks, points, or whispers I received, I was always nice, polite and generally kept to myself.

From noon to 1:00 in the afternoon, Ms. Shaw closed the bakery so that she and all of her staff could have a break for lunch. Most of the other employees left for the hour, but Ms. Shaw always allowed me to stay and have a bite to eat with her.

I saved up my earnings for food, water, juice and whatever other small things I could afford to help our family. Sadly, Da's health was deteriorating more and more.

The pains in his chest made breathing very uncomfortable. Droplets of blood were beginning to appear as he coughed and he was sweating constantly. Then one night in May, as I sat with him, Da reached up and pointed to the medal of St. Michael he was wearing.

“I want to give you this”, he whispered, his voice faint and weak. “Remember that no matter what happens, God and his Archangel, Michael will always protect you, Emile.”

Though I didn't fully understand why he was giving me something he'd kept and cherished for so long, I nodded. Then, slowly and carefully removing the medal from around his neck, I put it on.

Not long after this, I went to bed…but later, when I got up to check on Da, I discovered he was no longer breathing!

“DA, PLEASE WAKE UP!”, I screamed, shaking him. Terrified, I stood and ran from our hovel and inside Bennett's.

“BENNETT! BENNETT!!!”

“Huh?” Bennett grunted half-asleep. “What is it, Emile?”

“You have to help me”, I panted. Da’s stopped breathing!” At these words, Bennett sat straight up.

“WHAT?!”

Bennett's POV

Pale, his lips blue and his eyes open, Mig lay motionless. Moving a bit closer, I found that he had neither a heartbeat or a pulse…and his body was ice cold.

“I'm so sorry, Emile”, I said with a frown. “He's gone.”

Tears filled Emile’s eyes and began to stream down his cheeks.

“No…NO, HE CAN'T BE!”, he cried falling to his knees with his hands covering his face.

Knowing I needed to be strong but also comfort him, I gave Emile a hug. I whispered to him all the wonderful things about Heaven and of how it was much better there than anything that could ever be in this world. Still, both our hearts were broken.

The news of Mig's passing spread very quickly throughout the encampment. Everyone, particularly Emile, myself and Tatiana was devastated by the loss.

Tatiana and I had known Mig since he'd first come to live here in 1981. He'd only been twenty-one years old then. In our struggle to survive during all that time since, we had become confidants and very close friends.