Pigeon Witches

Chapter 4 -- The Snow

Yamato’s grandchild was not in his bed.

Yamato stood in the doorway, his shadow falling over the empty bed, and the open window. The air was searing-cold, sucking the heat right from his bones. Tadashi’s sheets were twisted and mangled, his chair tipped over and his stack of books upset in a feverish dash from the window.

Yamato had heard the bone-splitting crash from the kitchen, and could see the pockmarked snow where his grandson had scrambled for the trees.

He’d been warned, by Tadashi’s own mother, as she bundled the child in and old sack, not to let him eat fish or too much salt. Warned him not to let him near water, even snow, even ice.

It would be pointless to rush after him. The wind was undoing the tracks, picking his presence apart at the scenes. Tadashi would need more than one old man and his wife to save him now.

--

Harsh, sharp noises cut through the air like a knife, hacking at Daichi’s soft dreams and hurting his eardrums. His eyes stuck together as he struggled to open them, blinking and blinking, trying to see anything in the murky shadows of his room. He struggled to lift his arms, blankets upon blankets peeling off him.

The phone was ringing.

It was bewildering. The phone never rang. Even when Hu’s girl had broken her leg a year ago or Kenji had that terrible fever two months back; there was always a hurried thump at the door or a tugged arm whilst out shopping.

He’d almost forgotten they had a phone.

He’d definitely forgotten where it was.

*

The road was impassable, heavy, thick cloaks of snow heaped over the stones and hedges. It was hard to see the road, let alone pick his way through. A skeletal tree shed its ice with a wet thump.