Chapter Two: The Child

This chapter introduces the main character.

     Enraptured by the rain a little boy child did stand. Mirrored in his eyes was a storm that emptied itself upon the streets. Water fell all around the shelter that kept vigil over a family of orphans.

     The rain did fall so strangely, and liquid mystery seeped from the clouds. Questions beguiled the mind with sheer numbers. How is it that water falls from the sky? Where comes this water? Why does it fall? All such things passed through the mind of the child, for he had never seen rain.

     The child was so preoccupied that he failed to notice the elderly man’s knock on the orphanage door, as well as his entrance. The children’s reactions varied between fascination, terror, and apathy.

     The old man thanked the elderly matron that had granted him both solace and a meal. He then took off his soaked poncho and took a seat. The orphans became unified in their interest and inquired of the senior any and all things.

     The boy did not even recognize his existence. Questions of dire importance engulfed him. Speculations ran amok through his mind. Did someone put the rain up there in the clouds? Who could be tall enough to do that? Or maybe they built an enormous building that pierced the heavens…

     The boy jumped as he noticed the old man’s reflection in the window standing behind his own. His image would forever be locked in the child’s mind.

     The man was tall and held his world-worn back straight. His skin was weathered with the winds of many lands and countless sunny days. His eyes were grey as steel, a line of white piercing diagonally through each iris. Blades of silver stuck out beneath a strange woven hat.

     “Little one, what are your thoughts?” asked the foreigner in a deep yet eloquent voice.

     The boy elaborated on the many things that had crossed his mind. He explained his theory that sky giants had built stepping stools to fill clouds with water so that they could have gigantic gardens. Of course, they weren’t so gigantic to the giants.  The garden was more along the scale of his late mother’s garden.

    The sojourner merely listened with interest. No chuckle or mockery was unleashed upon the child. Once the boy had finally run out of words (which had taken quite a bit of time) a period of silence fell.

     The elder opened his mouth and spoke once more in that rich tone, “What great wonders you have thought of. Surely no other has come up with as original a theory as yours.”

     The youth beamed under such praise and proceeded to enlighten the man on other topics; why snakes have no feet, how the sun rises, where his homework disappears too. The senior once more listened intently.

     After the boy had once more exhausted himself the elder spoke, “Would you like to know my theory about the rain?” The boy nodded, his vigor returning.

     “When sun shines down upon water, it gets hot and turns to steam. It’s just like when your caretaker boils water, but slower, more gradual.” The man said his words with vigor, obviously thrilled with the concept.

     “Now, where does the steam go? I believe that it floats upwards into the sky, where it becomes a cloud. Then when it gets cold the steam cloud turns into water again.”

     The child pondered this for a time. His mind was working rather than his mouth, and at about the same speed.

     “Nah, isn’t complicated enough.”

     The old man could not stifle his smile. The boy returned it roguishly.

     “What’s your name mister?”

     “You can just call me Sir. What’s your name boy?”

     “My mommy named me after the whole wide world. I’m Somnium, but you can just call me Som.”

     The elder’s eyes twinkled, and by the time the storm had lifted he had adopted the boy.

     Thus did Somnium learn of family.