Souls in the Snow

Forming patterns of those that were once there.

Souls in the Snow

It was a thoroughly biting cold, that evening. The kind that would pierce through you, attack you ‘til you didn’t feel or know what you were anymore. Such was life.

 

Lucas had finally made it home. It was only right, now that the town had forgotten him. Walking listlessly through the streets, flakes and wisps of snow lit like fairies, ghosts in the streetlights. He marvelled at them, thinking more of what the place had been, who it had been, than his mother still waiting for him.

 

So many years. Without a trace, without a word, he’d had to go. Lucas walked past the old swing-set, the playground. If he looked just right at how the snow danced amongst the swings, he could see the ghosts of his childhood, he and his friend Sam playing.

 

He could remember the day the men came. A vision flashed of what had happened, how it happened. His friend, the sorbet of blood. Distant gunfire. Perhaps Lucas had gotten lucky after all. His own cold came now, later than then.

 

Lucas shivered violently, pushing his hands back into the sleeves of his overcoat, his old uniform. He’d been staring for so long that heavy snow began to weigh on him, memories dampened and frozen. Shaking them off, he shuffled onwards.

 

Before long, he reached the town square. Despite the blanketing snow rendering it comatose, he could recognise the same old life. Ghosts of street merchants, farmers markets and townspeople. Lucas could see them tending to their business, as the snow whipped him. It was here where he’d last seen his mother, her lovely soft face, telling him to be careful as always.

 

He was grateful in a way to have left, taken by the men, before having seen what they must have done here. Smashed glass, groaning bodies, furious flames. No heat was here now. A few lights on, those who had remained. His mother’s house, once his, looked just as he remembered it.

 

Lucas hesitated up the cobbled steps, grateful for the ice forcing a careful tread. Tenderly, his hand shook against the brass knocker, before grasping it and banging with determination. Moments passed, minutes.

 

He was beside himself at once, outside his own freezing body, looking in. The ancient door creaked open timidly, an embrace of light and warmth.

 

An elderly lady, hunched over slightly and wrapped in thick blankets, straightened her crooked back to lock eyes with him, suspicious and bewildered.

 

“Can I help you?” the voice croaked. Lucas saw some of the same warmth in her eyes that he’d remembered. Saw none of the recognition. He pushed out the lump in his throat.

 

“Y-yes. It’s...it’s me, Lucas.”

 

“Lucas? Hm, you know I used to have a son called Lucas. Bright, curious young boy he was.” She shivered, looked Lucas up and down. “He...you must know what happened to this town once. They got him.”

 

“Ma? It’s me, don’t you know that?” Lucas whined, fidgeting with something in his pocket.

 

She stood in the doorway, staring into space, not seeming to recognise his words. Stirring to, she glanced back up at him, finally recognising something. She was transfixed on that uniform.

 

“Yeah...those b******s got him. My friends, husband...my son. My son is gone, now.” She paused, glared at the dagger insignia on his uniform, then stabbed out with a biting cruelty: “They got him.”

 

“Ma, you’ve got to...” Lucas trailed off, not knowing what to say. In the end, he took it from his pocket. He could have considered getting his mother a nice gift, jewellery would have been fine, but not as powerful. Not as important as the little white data cartridge in Lucas’s left hand. He held it to his mother, staring at her intently.

 

“You’ve got to understand. They took me. I’ve taken something else.”

 

“Are..those..”

 

“The plans.”

 

She straightened up a little too quickly for herself, allowed herself to smile.

 

“For God’s sake Son get in here!” she cried, pulling him through the door. In a matter of seconds she’d clutched on to Lucas’s uniform and clawed the insignia from his chest, grabbed the cartridge, and hurled herself around his neck.

 

“My boy! I can’t believe it! All these years...”

 

The two stayed in their embrace forever. The hot sting of their shared tears, years lost between them, their emotions and souls recalibrated to one another.

 

Shortly, they released and faced one another. Lucas spoke first.

 

“I’ve got them Ma. They took me away, forced me to enlist, I couldn’t tell you. Finally I worked my way up. All their new technology, their every move, if we get this to the right people...”

 

“Calm down Lucas! You always were over-excitable. Don’t you see, I’m just glad you’re still alive! It’s been lonely here, as you can imagine. My goodness, where do we start? I’ll get some tea...”

 

She scuffled off in a hurry. Lucas looked around him, the warmth of his old home had remained. At once he took a breath, and for the first time in twenty years, allowed himself to relax and be himself, the boy he’d been twenty years ago. He’d become someone else since, someone obsessed with war and fire. Left his soul behind, was overwhelmed and overjoyed to find it still here in the old red brickwork, the now-worn knick-knacks and a family of furniture that refused to match.

 

Lucas had his plans, but his mother had her priorities right as always. Unlike the souls in the snow, it was amazing that he was still alive.

 

Author's Note

Written to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7EVCuK7ZqM

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This is a gripping tale, told very well. I was hooked and held down all the way through. One little thing, if you don't mind my saying, is that his mother's transition from a dull state to excited believer seems a bit too fast. That's just my opinion, for what it may be worth.

[Alex Ware]

Hi, thanks for the review! Yeah it's a bit of a sudden change, I nearly went the other way and had no change in attitude at all.

[augustus]

Very well written but I'm still trying to work out what you meant by 'the plans' What were they for?
Maybe I missed something. Thank you Alex.

[Alex Ware]

Hi, thanks for the review. Yeah, it is vague, I wanted something that would bring a change in affections from his mother, and which would also raise questions as to exactly what the item was and why it was important. In this way, I can expand upon / progress with the story if I ever choose to.
There are more unanswered questions. Who are "the men", why did they attack the town, and what were Lucas's experiences with them?
Or, I could leave the whole thing. It's nice to be able to write stories that can roll on into larger ones as well as write one off, self contained and very short stories.