I spent the next hour or more tending to all the important things that needed to happen. Despite the fact it was almost two o'clock in the morning I called the doctor and he rushed quickly to our aid, though he needn't have worried so as no more than a few minutes later he pronounced what we already knew. Within half an hour, the coroner had arrived and I held Winter's shaking body in my arms as they loaded Mother's body into the van and took her away. I had been forewarned that in the coming days I would have to face the trial of deciding on a funeral home but in that moment, I did not have the strength to think about it.
As the doctor said his goodbyes, speaking out his condolences, I closed the door. It wasn't that I was trying to be rude by cutting him off. It was just that I wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. In my heart, my Mother was still alive and well. In my mind, she would be right there in the kitchen when I turned around. But when I turned around and my gaze fell on the empty kitchen, I felt something in my heart change. I couldn't pin what it was but I knew that nothing was going to be the same from now on.
I sighed, the weight of Winter in my arms growing heavy on me for a moment. Knowing without a doubt that she needed to be held just as much as I needed to hold her, though, I hitched her up a little higher and kissed her cheek. Her arms wrapped around my neck as I walked across the room and I took a moment to squeeze her softly to me before I slowly I began to strip Mother's sheets off the bed.
As I tugged at the pillow cases, the image of Mother fluffing our worn out pillows as much as possible before we slept each night crept unbidden into my mind. I paused for a moment, blinking back tears as I regained my composure and placed them back at the head of the bed. Then I turned my attention to the quilt. As I struggled to get the cover off, another memory floated through my head.
"Now where on earth could he be?" Mother's voice called as she searched high and low around the kitchen.
From under the bed covers, my six year old self couldn't contain a giggle.
"Aha!" Mother cried, straightening from looking in a cupboard, flour smeared across her cheeks, her hair falling out of its clip just a little, "I hear you cheeky monkey... now if only I could find you!"
I giggled again and Mother turned towards the bed. I had not hidden myself well. I had attempted to make myself look like a pillow but there was no fooling anyone, of course. Mother however, being her playful self, did not look under the covers but instead peered under the bed.
"Where oh where could my little Bear be?" Mother straightened up again, smiling as she wiped her hand across her brow, smearing more flour.
I couldn't contain my excitement any longer and popped up like a rocket from beneath the sheets, grinning from ear to ear, "Here I am Mama!"
"Oh my goodness!" Mother joyfully feigned surprise, "You almost gave me a heart attack, sweet Joshua."
I giggled, "Sorry Mama!"
Mother laughed and leaned forward, taking the quilt from around my shoulders and wrapping it around my head before smearing flour on my nose, "Now you look like a proper little Bear!"
I growled, meek and high pitched, raising my hands to mimic claws.
"Terrifying!" Mother laughed, then smiled as she brushed the hair out of my eyes, "But I prefer little Bears that like to go on teddy bear picnics... go on Joshua, go and wash up and we can take lunch to the meadow."
I was dragged from my remembering's by a dampness on my cheeks. Hoping Winter didn't notice, I patted my tears dry and returned to stripping sheets. As I worked, Winter clung on tight enough that I could use both hands where I needed to and soon I had piled the sheets in the centre of the bed, bundling them all into themselves before putting them aside. I wasn't ready to face Mother's bed unmade however – she would never have allowed that – so despite no one being in it I got fresh sheets out and made the bed once more. When I finished, with a final sigh of both satisfaction and exhaustion, I took the dirty sheets up in my free hand and headed with Winter for the door, ready to toss them into the rubbish collection box outside.
Just as they fell in, however, I heard a sound that piqued my interest. A strong wind blustered Winter's hair across my face, and I blew a short sharp breath to detangle myself from it before dipping my hand into the bundle of sheets and feeling around. Cold tin brushed against my hand and I picked it up carefully. It was the tin that just hours before had contained mine and Winter's necklaces. I bit my lip to stop it from quivering and quickly placed the crude container in my trouser pocket. Reaching my hand up, I touched the small key around my neck.
"Is everything okay Yosha?" Winter whispered, her voice barely audible above the wind.
"Yes," I closed the lid of the rubbish box a little too forcefully, catching my thumb but refusing to acknowledge the pain, "Everything is fine... don't worry so."
I felt Winter frown against my chest and a part of me grew angry for snapping at her.
"I'm sorry," I leaned my head down and kissed her temple, "everything is okay little Cub."
I stood there for a moment, just holding her hurting heart tight until, of course, the wind whipped up and I hurried back inside with her instead.
Mother died so quietly, so peacefully, yet left us both with so filled with so many questions that night. As I sat in the rocking chair by the fire, Winter clinging to my chest and a blanket draped softly over us both, I considered what Mother's words could possibly have meant. Who would the birds bring home? Father? Someone else? And why on earth was my past to be a key to my heart? As far as I could tell, my heart was wide open to those around me. So what on earth could she mean? In the end, I found no answer to my questions and so I gave up asking them for the time being.
Instead, I found my attention drawn to the blazing fire with its flickering flames that burned meters from my feet and I was soon lost in my sorrows and my thoughts. Winter was my responsibility now. Mine and mine alone. She had been the love of mine and Mother's life since Father left and there was no way I could let her down now. Whatever path caring for her meant I would have to take, I would have to take it. How could I not? This little life in my arms had become my sole reason for living.
"*Yosha?" Winter's voice interrupted my troubled thoughts, "What did Mama mean by 'the birds will bring him home'?"
I raised my hand to stroke Winter's blonde hair softly as I thought for a while. Father had left when I was barely fifteen and almost three years had passed since then. Surely, there was no hope of him coming home. Not given the fact he left in anger and torment and had never shown his face around town since.
"I don't know, my little Cub," I said and Winter turned her head so that her blue eyes met mine.
"Yosha I... some people said Mama was going crazy because of the flu... but that isn't true is it?" Winter's eyes were full of a quiet fear that tugged at my heart.
I thought for a moment. Mother's words were certainly strange. And there was no doubting that it was true when people said she wasn't herself in her final days but I wouldn't have called her delusional as others had.
"No," I said as assuredly as I could, "Mama was just tired and a little not so with it at times... but she was never crazy. Promise me you won't think she was?"
Winter nodded her head, hair falling across her eyes, "I didn't think she was crazy and I never will."
"Good," I said, tucking her hair behind her ear as I pulled her small body, clad in her favourite nightgown, towards me, "Are you warm enough little Cub?"
She nodded, "Yes Yosha, I'm warm... but I'm..."
Her bottom lip wobbled and her weary head fell gently onto my chest. Seconds later I felt her hands grab at the material of my shirt for safety. I wrapped my arms around her and I felt her face press against me and her shoulders shake as she began to cry. I caressed her head gently and began to rock back and forth. Knowing no words of my own could soothe her, I sang the only song that came to my mind in that moment.
It was the song that, in times gone by, Father had sung to me. In those days, I had sat on his lap similar to how Winter did mine now and back then he had smiled upon me as I did her in this moment. My eyes clouded with tears as I remembered how Father had once been my hero... but I pushed them away, along with the lump in my throat and began to sing.
"Well once there was a mighty man,
He led great armies with his hands,
The sword was the weapon that he drew.
He led his men to victory,
Till there he was, on bended knee,
And from his lips confessed his Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Halle-luuuu-jaah.
And can you guess his guidance was,
An angel of the Lord above,
Sent from the heavens to his heart on earth below.
She was the one that led him to,
The God of all, with power through,
And from his heart poured out a Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Halle-luuuu-jaah.
And then drew close that fateful day,
Where war and battle grew to hate,
And evil was alive throughout the land.
But this man bowed down on hand and knee,
Below the nails of rugged tree,
And God delivered him to Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Halle-luuuu-jaah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah."
By the time I had finally whispered the last lines, my voice was failing me and tears rolled in bucket loads down my cheeks. Winter was fast asleep on my chest, so I didn't have to worry so much about her seeing her brother's weakness, as long as I could control my breathing enough that she didn't wake. Instead her tiny body was rising and falling beneath my hands as she breathed deeply.
We stayed there through the night, tucked up in the rocking chair in front of the softly crackling fire. The archaic wooden frame of the chair bore into my skin in all of the most uncomfortable places but to save disturbing my little Cub I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore it, instead choosing to wrap my arms tighter around her as I gently pressed kisses to her head.
As I did, a soft sigh rose to my ears and she shifted a little in my arms, snuggling in closer to me.
"Mmmm... Yosha?"
"Yeah Winter?"
"... I loves you..."
A smile crept across my face, "I loves you too."
---
*Yosha was the name Winter had called me by ever since she started to speak because she couldn't pronounce Joshua140Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡymCpY5m1jv
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