Water Man Part 2


There was smoke drifting into the sky. He stopped and looked up, unsure what to make of it. Slowly, he walked on and a log cabin merged from between the trees. Bundling his mixture of feelings away, he went over and peered into a window. He could see one large room with a staircase at the back and a lit fireplace in the middle. There was a table and some chairs, a sinking sofa and a bookcase.

Turning his head, he could see a figure standing at a metal sink. A water tap was running and the figure seemed to be filling something. Still watching, he saw the figure turning off the tap and coming into the dim light of the cabin. It was a man very much like himself, though the man was wearing jeans and a shirt. He was also carrying a kettle, which he placed above the fire.

Stepping away from the window, he debated what to do. He looked down at himself, saw his nakedness and decided he had no choice. He went to the door, stepping up on a little bit of porch. He knocked on the door and listened to the dull thud being out sounded by an owl screeching. He looked around, but it was far too dark to see anything. The door opened and he whipped his head back. A face stared out at him then a hand swung the door open fully.

‘You made it back then?’

The words and voice took him by surprise and he stepped back.

‘Come in. I’ll get you some clothes,’ the man said coldly and moved away from the door.

‘I don’t remember anything,’ he called out.

‘It’s fine. It’ll pass soon and everything will come back.’

He stepped inside and looked properly around. Miner’s lamps hung from the bare ceiling and walls, but their small soft light wasn’t doing much to keep night’s shadows at bay. The fire on the other hand seemed to be doing a better job. He walked over and stood before the open flames which were crackling around dry branches. He warmed his hands and felt the chill leaving his skin.

‘Here. They’re yours’. Cleanest I could find.’

He turned and nodded his thanks as he took the clothes. He could now see the man more clearly and recognized his dirty blond hair and sea blue eyes, ‘Zale?’ he muttered.

‘The one and only,’ Zale replied with a laugh.

He looked down at the clothes in his hands, there were pants and a t-shirt both made of soft blue cotton. He put them on, aware that Zale was rummaging in the cupboards. The clothes felt nice and he felt warmer. He turned around and watched Zale cutting up some fruit.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘You went to Olympus, had an argument with our great great grandad and got kicked out.’

‘Oh,’ he responded and stared into the fire, from somewhere deep in the back of his mind his memories were stirring.

  To Be Continued…

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