“It’s probably a neighbour. I’m not sure who else it could be at this hour.” I said, more in an attempt to reassure myself than anything else, before getting up and checking the door.
An old lady in a bathing robe and bunt slippers was impatiently waiting before my door.
“Good evening madame Gervis,” I said as I opened the door. “Is there something going on?”
The lady gave me a disdainful look, before peaking into my flat. Cain had sat up straight on the couch. To an outsider, it might have seemed as if he was trying to look like a good kid who hadn’t been playing mobile games all day, but I knew that in reality, he was just getting ready to attack the visitor if the situation called for it.
“Good evening mademoiselle Dubois. I see there are no issues in your home. Don’t hesitate to seek me out if anything arises.” Madame Gervis finally replied with a tone that suggested I do the exact opposite. “A parcel has arrived for you. I left it downstairs. Do you want me to bring it up here?”
“No, thank you very much,” I promptly replied. “Did it arrive just now?”
“No, this afternoon. I wanted to make sure you were home before informing you. I will put it out by my door. Pick it up when you have time.”
“I will do that. Have a good evening.” I replied.
I watched as the old woman slowly went back downstairs, with the caution of someone who didn’t want to lose their slippers.
“Who was that?” Cain asked when I closed the door and started looking for my sneakers.
“The concierge. A vile old lady. I’m sure she was the one to fuck up my lock, although I have no proof. My current running theory is that she hates me because I own the flat, as opposed to renting it, and that I pay my bills separately.”
“Ah, so it’s harder for her to embezzle of communal charges.”
“How do you know such words?” I half-jokingly asked.
Truth be told, I was more than a little apprehensive about learning the answer to that question but I also enjoyed teasing him like that once in a while. Perhaps it came from a deep-rooted desire for him to act like a normal kid, and not like his character in the book.
Cain suddenly sat back up, as if reacting to something I hadn’t seen or heard yet. The TV was still running, so I assumed that was the cause.
“Let’s go for a walk.” He suddenly said, putting my phone down. “We’ll get your parcel on the way back, and you’ll get some air, come on.”
Before I had had the time to argue or to properly decipher the overly eager expression on Cain’s face, he’d already slipped into his boots, that he did not bother to lace up properly, put on his jacket, and grabbed my keys.
“Alrigth.” I conceded as I grabbed my own coat.
----------------------------------------
Cain dragged me around the block. He had the glint of a boy on a mission in his eyes, and every time I asked him what he was looking for, he avoided or redirected the question.
I decided it was time to head home when a heavy, cold and wet snowflake landed on my face. I tiled my head back, looking at the sky. For a brief moment, I forgot about the cold, and about the world around me. I watched as snowflakes slowly fell from the darkness above me, illuminated by the many lampposts and surrounding windows. With the thick scent of winter in the air and this weather, it felt just like home; like the real home where everything was simple and straightforward, and where people were not defined by nor possessed any skills.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
As this wave of nostalgia hit me, I involuntarily smiled, remembering all the sweet moments I had once shared with my family. That smile slowly vanished off my face as I remembered that I hadn’t spent Christmas with them in over three years, ever since I had left for university.
I returned my attention to the present situation, deciding not to think about how I would never spend Christmas with them again.
“Cain.” I called out. “It’s time to go home.”
He glanced around once last time, as if checking if whatever thing he was looking for hadn’t reappeared, and walked back to where I was with a resigned look.
“What was that all about?” I asked, as I gestured for him to follow me home.
“I was hoping – actually you know what, forget it.”
I shrugged, and let the matter go. Although my relationship with the kid was still somewhat blurry, I had faith that he wouldn’t do anything evil (to put it bluntly) or anything that would endanger either of us. Perhaps he just wanted to get out of the house, after playing on the phone all day.
“You know you don’t have to stick around while I’m at work, right?” I asked, continuing that line of thought.
“And where do you expect me to go? To the playground?”
He said it with such a disdainful tone, that I felt bad for even wanting to laugh at his reply. But he did have a point. Even though his circumstances were somewhat out of the ordinary, school was where he was supposed to be at; where all kids his age were supposed to be at.
“Or at your sad place?” Cain continued. “I mean, it’s really not that bad. You have a lot of windows, some of which even open. And spying on your neighbours through that ventilation shaft is fun, so I’m not complaining. But there isn’t much to do.”
“All of my windows open, I’ll have you know. It’s just that the one in the bathroom freezes shut because of the condensation, and you have to force the bedroom ones a bit during summer.” I said, in a half-hearted defensive tone. By now, I was more or less used to the fact that Cain never meant the things in the way he said them, even though his expressions, movements, and tone suggested otherwise. “Did you ever go to school?"
My question was followed by a long silence.
"I’ll hang out at the playground.” Cain dryly replied. Clearly, to him, that seemed the better option of the two. “And before you go on about the importance of education, I can read, write, count to 10 and name the five lords. That’s more than most people in my town are able to do.”
“There’s more to school than just the basics. There’s history and arts. Science. Physics, chemistry, biology. Social studies and economy.” I said that last word with more than a little pride, as that had been the branch I had specialised in. “Plus school is where you get to make friends for life. University as well, but school is the first step. You get to meet all sorts of fun people.”
Cain wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and did not say anything for a short moment. Then, in a dry and almost venomous voice, he said:
“Well where are your friends from school now?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to reply to the provocation. I tried to convince myself that he wouldn’t have said that had he known my situation. So, instead of a witty comeback, or a well-deserved telling-off, I replied with:
“People come and go, just like we went and came back home. Here, open the door.”
I handed him the key, and silently looked around, trying to spot whatever it had been that Cain had searched for. But, all I saw were some large melting boot footprints in the thin layer of thin snow that had accumulated in the past few minutes.
“Is this massive pole the package you are meant to pick up?” Cain’s voice came from inside the entry hallway.
I spun around, closing the door behind me, and joined him in front of the concierge’s door.
“Well it has my name on it,” I said after a while.
The pole in question was a two-meter high and about fifty centimetres wide cylinder, made of hard cardboard, with runes burnt into the paper in several places, and a label with my name and address stuck slightly below eye level.
“Oh, I knew this would come biting me in the ass…” I muttered as I realised what was in the transport tube.
“What is it?” Cain asked, with a hint of concern in his voice, as he looked up at me.
“You know how you were complaining about my apartment being sad? Well, you’re about to get some new wall décor.” I replied with a grin.
[https://i.imgur.com/GfBl0kA.png]