The Voice: Chapter 6: The Journey Begins

 
Picture By: Enrique from Pexels

The Journey Begins

The air was cold and dampness settled in like a thick blanket tucking them in. Mist hung like lacy curtains over the boat framing it in, the wind billowing those curtains about drawing them up and then down; misty waves upon the surface of the restless water. The sun was just barely rising in a rosy brilliance causing many little rainbows. Life began stirring within the boat. Luigi carefully put on an extra wool layer and crossed through to the kitchen. He put the bars up on the stove and put on the kettle. Out the window he could see whitecaps running over each other on the grey sea. Good hot gruel would do the trick for his family and his charge. His gaze went to the Madonna. Let me help her, Mother. He prayed silently. A few more steps brought him to his guest’s door, but the bed was empty and the sheets in a disturbed heap. “Gracious girl! Where have you gone? Still running?” He spoke to the empty room in frustration. She is more disturbed than I thought.

Luigi went back to the kitchen, his feet dragging like a sad dog on the wooden floor. He would have to keep a closer eye on her than he imagined. He stirred the pot and looked up as a cold blast blew in, carrying with it a hunched figure. “Good morning, uncle.”

“Good Morning.” He let fall into a tin cup a spoonful of hot gruel.

“Thank you. Can I have another from the cupboard?”

“Oh!” Luigi looked up as if seeing him for the first time, “Dion, you are that hungry this morning?”

“No. For the multa signurina.”

Luigi shook his head in disbelief. “She is with you?”

“Se. I have watched over her. She has come to no harm. Just cold.”

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