The Traveler

With his arms full in walking up to the fire, Lilly’s eager look has him saying to her, “Hope you are hungry.” A sheepish grin escalates to Lilly saying, “Always.”

“We’re about to fix that.”

The first course is a mixture of greens and berries which is followed up with seared rabbit. Customary to having an after-dinner beverage, he slips his hand inside his breast pocket to where he pulls forth a silver tin. Thinking of Izzo, he picks out a thin, green leaf that sparkles in the firelight.

“What’s that.”

“I thought I would make us some tea.” Leaning over in letting the leaf fall from his fingertips, Lilly turns back to rummaging through the wood pile until she pulls out a small chunk of wood. Catching him looking at her, she says to him, “I like to whittle. I’m not very good at it, but it helps to pass the time.” Her honest explanation has him thinking of Alice. Of what she gets to do to pass the time away and though he can only imagine her life right now, if he could, he would send her a message telling her to hold on as he is on his way. Until then, aside from the occasional wood shaving coming his way, he is left to keeping an eye on the leaf swirling around in the heated water.

The sky is on the verge of showing off its constellations when he decides to move the pan off to the side. “It needs to sit a minute.”

“You know I have no cup. right.”

“I have one you can use.  And if you want, you can use my bedroll, too.” 

Lilly turns and points yonder, “There is a backseat up there on the road so, thanks, but I’m good.” He hadn’t thought of that. “Guess that works, too.”

Lilly goes back to carving while he gets into his pack.

It is a simple cup, and though he had his choice among others, by far this one is his favorite. Tea ready, he pours Lilly a cup. Handing it over, she takes in the aroma before she has a sip. “Wow, that tastes really good. My dear old dad hated tea. I found this out the hard way when I brought home a box of lemon tea mostly because I had sore throat. Mom had a tea kettle that she never used and after filling it part way with water, I’m hanging out in the kitchen minding my own business but as soon as dad hears the whistle go off, he goes berserk to where he is screaming obscenities and racial slurs all the while he is tearing my box of tea to pieces before throwing it all in the garbage. Never again, he shouts with his finger in my face before he tosses the tea kettle out the back door. Two weeks after that, I’m coming home from school when I see some dude in a suit. He looks like a cop. And no sooner do I enter the room, the dude walks out the front door. As for mom, she just sits there with this dazed look on her face until she comes around and tells me that dad was killed. I felt awkward and choked up all at the same time. In my heart, I thought there would come a day that the two of us would sit down and talk like we used to. That never worked out. Guess in the long run, it doesn’t really matter anymore as I will never see either of them again. Anyways, the tea is delicious.” Having another sip, Lilly falls quiet.

Predators on the rise with the lack of human interference, picks out a slow burner. Nestling the chunk of wood on the bed of coals, Lilly yawns. “Bedtime.”

Off she goes climbing up to the road and after Lilly disappears from sight, he picks up his cup and pours himself some tea. Having a sip, the thud of a car door closing tells him Lilly has found a place to rest her head.  Idling the time away by staring into the glowing coals, after a while he too, calls it a night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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[Farjana Chaity]

As two individuals share a simple yet meaningful meal and conversation by the fire. The exchange reveals their pasts, their moments of loss, and their connection to the present. It's a portrayal of human connection and the way our stories intertwine in unexpected ways.