Forest Angel [part 3]

The girl sat Bretton on a seat. He was shaking.

‘Are you cold?’ the girl asked, hugging herself in the sign of shivering. He looked at her confused but then nodded. She smiled and went and got the blanket and put it around him. Then she put out her hands, in a stop motion. She made sure the boy knew what she meant, and then walked out the door with a bowl in her hand. She quickly went to the stream and got some fresh water, then took it back to the house. When she walked through the door, she saw the boy staring at the corner of the ceiling. The girl looked up there, but she saw nothing. She then looked back to the boy and saw that he wasn’t actually looking there, but daydreaming. A slight smile sparkled on his lips. He looked happy, wherever he was. The girl quietly put the bowl on the table and got a small cloth. The boy didn’t notice. She dipped the cloth in the bowl of water and pulled up the back of the blanket on the boy. Suddenly he jumped. She stayed still for a while. He seemed to settle back down again. She placed the cloth to his back, careful not to hurt him. He shivered a little. She cleaned up the blood and when she was finished, she turned to him. He looked at her. The girl sat on the opposite chair. The made sure he was watching, then she motioned eating with her hands. The boy watched her confused. ‘Are you hungry?’ she said while repeating the motion. The boy caught on and nodded. She smiled and got up. She went to a cupboard and found some leftover food the priest had given her. She handed him the rest of it, knowing she would have to find the priest and ask for more later. The boy looked very pleased and took the food. He ate it quickly. The girl laughed as he ate it. Never had she seen such a hungry being except herself. The saw her laughing and tried to join in, but a horrible sound came out of his throat. ‘How terrible it must be for you not being able to hear or speak,’ she whispered. The boy frowned. She shook her head and took the cloth and bowl away.

‘I will teach him in signs’ she smiled to herself.

* * *

Bretton sighed to himself. Falta dropped down beside him. Bretton smiled at her. She smiled back. They watched the sun set in front of them.

‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ Falta signed to Bretton.

‘Not as beautiful as you,’ Bretton signed back. Falta hung her head. Bretton tapped her shoulder, ‘Are you okay?’ he signalled. She smiled sleepily and nodded. He turned back to watching the sunset.

Every time he signed something like that to her, she felt very uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him or didn’t like being called beautiful; it’s just that she didn’t ever think it would work out, and she just wanted to be friends, for now at least.

Bretton had helped Falta a lot, even choosing a name. The priest had also helped her. He told her that his name was Father Norman. Farther Norman had given Falta and Bretton food for free. Falta hated taking it, but she had no other choice. Father Norman also gave her supplies and furniture. He had also given her money. Falta swore that she would pay every single bit of it back, but the priest told her not to worry about that.

Bretton now lived with Falta, she being the only one he could communicate with. They sometimes had fights because there just weren’t enough hand-words and it got on Bretton’s nerves, but he always apologized.

The local villagers were the worst things though. They thought of Falta as a witch. Falta seldom went into the village anymore, she hated the stares people gave her, the whispering. Bretton didn’t go to the village anymore either. They both lived in their happy little cottage by the ocean.

A small pebble hit the back of Bretton’s head. It was a gentle throw. He turned and saw Falta at the doorway, a basket full to the brim with strawberries. He grinned. Falta walked in happily and placed the basket on the table. Bretton reached to take a strawberry, but Falta swiped his hand away. Bretton looked at her.

‘They need to be washed,’ she signalled to him with her hands.

‘Okay. Hurry,’ Bretton signalled back. Falta sighed and took the basket back outside to the stream.

She washed the strawberries, half in a dream. Suddenly she felt a great push behind her. She screamed and fell into the water. It was quite deep, but she could just stand on her tiptoes. She surfaced the water and looked about. She saw Bretton splash into the water too, causing her to close her eyes. The water was very cold and made her shiver. Bretton surfaced the water right in front of her, his hands placed on her waist. Falta shivered again. Bretton was grinning. Falta hugged her body.

‘You are cold?’ Bretton asked with his hands. Falta nodded. Suddenly, Bretton lifted her up into his arms and carried her out of the water. She put her arms tightly around his neck.

‘Don’t drop me…’ Falta said out loud, even though Bretton couldn’t hear her. Bretton ignored her fish like movements with her mouth and carried her back to the house.

He sat her gently on the bed and put a blanket around her. She was soaking. Bretton started the fire and closed the door.

‘Do you want anything?’ he asked; again with his hands. ‘He seems very stiff and cold now. Why the sudden change in heart?’ Falta thought to herself, whilst shaking her head to Bretton’s question. He nodded and took a piece of bread for himself. Falta closed her eyes. She enjoyed the silence of the cottage and soon sleep took her.

Still Bretton did not know where she had come from. So many questions he longed to ask her, but didn’t have the hand-words. Why did she always feel uncomfortable when he touched her or called her pretty? He was just telling her what he thought. Bretton sighed to himself. He looked back over to Falta, asleep on the bed. He wanted to touch her, but remembered last time what happened, when Falta was asleep and Bretton stroked her cheek, she awoke instantly and looked very afraid. But why was she so afraid of people touching her? Why was she so different? Because she came from the forest, maybe? So many questions, not enough hand-words.

Falta opened her eyes and blinked hard. It was dark now, and she heard deep breathing. She turned over and saw Bretton curled up into a ball beside the fire. Guilt ran through her. Bretton really needed a bed. She took her blanket and put it around Bretton. She sat at the table and stared out the window. Boredom came over her. She began making hand-words.

Before she knew it, the sun was shining through the window. Its great beams spilling onto the ocean. It was so beautiful. She heard Bretton waking up. Turning her head slightly she smiled at him. He stood up. He was top-less and wore ripped shorts. His chest hair was dark against his tanned skin. ‘Why am I looking at his chest hair?’ Falta asked herself, quickly looking away. Bretton raised his eyebrows. Falta’s palms began to get sweaty and her heartbeat raced. Bretton sat beside her, looking out the window too, but Falta knew he had gone to his dreamland. She watched him, a distant smile on his face.

‘Bretton…?’ she whispered. She laid her head on his shoulder. Bretton didn’t move, still in his dream, ‘Don’t ever change,’ she continued.