One Shots

Stranger In My Own Home

Daniel shrugged the strap of his tattered knapsack further up his shoulder, weight bumping his arm as he walked through along the snow covered pathway. The cold bit against his cheeks and stung against the inflamed cuts on his feet. Familiar iced over streams and patches of deep forests welcomed him home. Memories of running in between those trees and wading through the stream made him feel a degree of nostalgia inside of him. It warmed his insides to keep going regardless of the dropping temperatures he was enduring.

As he moved through the countryside, more and more reminders that he was homeward bound began to appear. Wooden fences began to come into view. The hedgerows which were planted across the front of the fences were bare of leaves and the usual roses. Fields spread from one edge of his view to the other, barren and covered in white powdered snow.

Daniel saw the roof of a sturdy, ever solid, stone farmhouse he had called home for 18 years. Now, four years since then he had finally returned.

He swallowed hard and continued on the hardened path towards the front door. The old family dog barked faithfully at the stranger but Daniel walked over undeterred and Rufus sniffed him. The tail begin to wag when Rufus put his wet and muddy paws onto Daniel's shirt, "Hey boy. Missed me?" Daniel's  hoarse voice lifted with a smile crossing his lips, "Hope the family did too."

Rufus' paws went back into the snow as Daniel stood. Even though the dog moved back and forth in excitement between his returned master and the house, Daniel stood frozen. Finally he walked onto the steps and knocked on the door. The wooden door was scratched from Rufus' scratching and chipped in places

A middle-aged woman opened the door and stared at the young man with a heavy stubble and unruly hair now on her step. His height and broad shoulders filled her doorway. The deep greenish grey colors of his eyes stirred something she hadn't felt in many years.

"Are you the lady of the house?" Daniel asked, slightly deepening his voice. She nodded silently and opened the door wider to let the young lad in. He stepped in, ducking his head slightly, then looked around. Nothing seemed to have change at all and the sense of familiarity made Daniel smile.

"What can I do to aide you, sir?"

"I am a veteran of the Northern forces ma'am. My own family were not happy when I enlisted. Could I please stay for a short spell until I get myself settled?" Daniel inquired but added quickly, "I do good farm work. Harvested fields for my own mother and father before the war." The older woman thought for a moment and watched his face. Something felt very familiar about those eyes, that nose, that jaw. She knew him somehow. Not just in fleeting passing but knew everything about him.

"You can stay until supper when my husband comes in. Then you can arrange with him what shall be your agreement." She said finally. The woman directed Daniel to remove his worn out shoes and to leave his bags by the door. A cup of bitter coffee was handed to him along with a small bowl of oatmeal to warm him up. While he ate by the kitchen stove the woman kept an eye on the young man. Daniel ate quickly but made hardly any noise, remembering the manners his mother taught him.

He handed her his bowl, thanked her profusely, and he went to the living room where another fire was stoked. Above the hard wood mantel was a small painting of the woman, a noble looking man, and two children. Two boys. One boy was a blonde blue eyed kid and the other had eyes with slight green along with a mop of blonde hair. A light laugh escaped Daniel's lips and his frostbitten finger tips ghosted over the painted face of the second boy. How long ago it felt.

Many pairs of heavy footsteps were heard in the main room and Daniel recoiled his hand away from the portrait and into his pant pockets. A broad shouldered graying man had stepped in through the front door with a few younger men following him for dinner. When the woman whispered in his ear the older gentleman's eyes met Daniel's from feet away. Steady and unwavering were the silver eyes of this older man and when she stopped whispering he strode over.