“He’s fine Jelly, stop fretting over him.” Chimes an elderly woman’s voice.

A mist gently envelops him, and he discerns a faint, distant blue light. Elias trails the light’s glow and gradually descends into slumber.

Elias awakens to the sight of an elderly woman knitting in a rocking chair by a grey stone hearth. A slender old woman, half-moon spectacles perched on her nose, she hums and deftly clicks the enormous knitting needles together as she works.

Elias feels as if he has been smacked by a truck. His ribs ache, his back throbs, and his face feels scraped. What happened? He feels around and finds the vial safely tucked in his tattered shirt.

He surveys the room. It is a cozy living room with a carpet as red as fall leaves. A recliner sits opposite the old woman, and he is laying on a long couch. A coffee table sits between himself and the old woman. The mantle of the fireplace is covered with miniatures and trinkets that haven’t moved in years. They are coated with a thick layer of dust. A little glass doll with yarn hair is looking down at him from up there. In the corner, a glass cabinet is stuffed full of old dolls being held on their feet by stands. A pile of tobacco and a wood-stemmed pipe sits on a little table beside the recliner. The room carries a nostalgic aroma that instinctively feels like home to Elias if he could qualify anything as feeling at home.

“Ope, you’re awake. Good on you. How are you feeling hun?” The old woman sets the yarn down in a wicker basket beside her chair and struggles a bit to rise from it. “Gerald the boy is awake, fetch Angel.”

Elias attempts to sit up but pain jolts through his ribs and legs like a bolt of lightning. He moans and grinds his teeth.

“Oh, honey just lie back a spell. Angel tells us you fell from a tree while she was out with her friends. You were fortunate they were over that way, though I told her since she was a wee one not to go near the park at night. What were you doing in the park at night? A might risky if you ask me. Gerald, did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?” An old man’s voice emanates from an unseen room.

“I said go, fetch Angel.” Each word from the old woman is deliberate and punctuated. “He couldn’t hear a house falling on his own head.” She mutters to Elias, “Construction worker. Anyway, how are you feeling? Angel says you fell on your head. She had to borrow a nice car from a stranger to get you home. Had her worried sick. She doesn’t show it around her friends, but I can tell. Been raising her since she had pigtails. I miss those adorable pigtails.”

“She’s in the shower.” The old man’s voice hollers from the other end of the house.

“Do you fancy some tea? Hot tea with honey perhaps. Do you take honey in your tea? I can whip up some noodles with it. How does that sound?” She leans over Elias and runs a hand through his hair. “You don’t talk much, do you? A trim would do wonders for your appearance, you know.” She covers her mouth with her hand, “Oh dear, where are my manners? I’m Ester, that grumpy old man there is Gerald. He looks grumpy but it’s all show.” She winks at Elias. “What might your name be?”

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Elias starts to chuckle, but his ribs make him grimace instead. She pauses her talking long enough for him to answer, “Elias.”

“Elias, that's a splendid name. Nice to meet you, Elias.” The old man enters donned in a red plaid shirt and suspenders that hold his pants up just under his chest. His back is hunched over as he walks, and his brown eyes are focused on his table. He picks up his pipe and lights a match puffing several times. The match’s flame and the aroma of the sweet tobacco scent waft through the air. Elias settles into the plush sofa.

“What’s this? He’s awake Ester.” His eyes fall on Elias.

“That's what I’ve been saying, haven’t you been listening?”

A woman enters the room, a towel wrapped around her head and another towel draped around her body. Her eyes shimmer in sapphire blue. She stops and meets Elias’s gaze. Fear briefly registers on her face before she removes the towel from her head and starts rubbing it on her short black hair. “You’re alive.”

“Where am I?”

“I’m Angel, and these are my grandparents, Ester and Gerald. I found you in the park. You fell.” Her eyes dart to the floor. “Should I call your parents?”

“I live on my own.” Elias replies. “No family.”

“Oh,” Ester clutches her chest. “My, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need honey.”

Angel narrows her eyes and scrutinizes him, “You’re not a creep, are you? Cause I will cut you.”

“Angel.” Ester scolds.

“What’d she say?” Gerald puffs his pipe.

“Just stay out of my room.” Angel pivots to leave.

“Angel,” Elias just wants to see her one more time. She halts and turns her head toward him. “I’ve never climbed a tree before.”

He catches a glint of a smile at the corner of her eye. “Well, you’re clearly not good at it. I suggest you not try it again.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Just don’t be a creep.” Angel smiles and walks out of the room.

“How about that tea?” Ester hums. “It can heal the soul. I can make you some noodles too. I’ll throw eggs on top and a slice of ham.”

Elias nods. “Yes ma’am.” He rolls his fingers over the vial under his shirt. Gerald settles into his recliner by the fire and taps out his pipe on a tray. “I would love some.”

“Gerald get him down a quilt. He looks as if he’s half froze.”

Gerald eases back into his chair, mutters under his breath, and then musters the energy to rise once more. He shuffles from the room and returns with a hefty quilt dropping it on Elias’ lap. Elias grins as the old man settles back into his chair, packs his pipe, and lights it again without so much as a sideways look at him. Soon the smell of ham being seared in a pan mixes in with the sweet tobacco smell and Elias’ stomach starts to growl.