Once upon a
crime.
Something in the clime
The wind is blowing, brushing the landscape with diamond of snow.
A man is standing, half hidden in the mouth of a pick-up.
The light providing some light over his work crudely defines his traits.
A hand on his back, he gets out of there with difficulties. His lips are tighten by pain. Smoke comes out his nose as his nostrils expels some warm air in the evening cooler atmosphere. His mouth gasps and spills more of it out. It is carried away in the blast as soon as the bearded man leave the protective shield of the opened hood.
Suddenly, he is whipped up by something coming his way. He seizes what ever is that thing that struck him behind the head. The annoying object is tugged in his hairs. He pulls on it with no fear at all. It could have been anything, but it is only a yellow ribbon. The man frowns, turning on himself, he gasps more. His eyes widen. The street is invade by more monochromatic ribbons. They run with the wind, flag from the branches of trees, hang to car antennas or fly in the air.
Out of inspiration, he frees the one he has in hand, letting it fly away with the other.
"May God protects you, Haley. I wish He gives us a sign to find you." He whispers, according to his belief.
His gaze spans to locate a faint light north side. One that he knows kept the vigil all this time: an old rotten Jack-O-lantern lighten like a beacon in the cold night.
"Moshe?Sweety…diner is served." Calls Ellen.
The thoughts he has are chased away and the husband waves to his wife.
He switches off his working light, gathers it up and rolls the extension. The support of the lid is removed to let it closed. He unplugs the extension and pushes the bundle of cord inside the cabin. Cartoon are place over all the glasses. Sleet is forecasted for tonight.
The man enters back in his warmer house. As he turns to shut the door, still holding to his ribs that seems to make him suffers, he witness Caithless (Haley's father) on the oter side of the street. He is getting down the exterior stairway at Eric's place. Moshe makes a disapproving sound, shaking his head and mumbling:"He will never get over this. Too hard." He sighs then, finishing his move.
"Hum?" Ellen does, perking her head by the arch between the kitchen and the living room.
"Nothing, I said it was cold outside." He claims, removing his scarf, then his coat and gloves. He push the winter gears into one of the sleeves and hang the piece of clothing on the clothe hanger in the entrance wardrobe.
"Indeed, it is. I found that totally insane of you to have got out to repair the pick-up with your broken ribs." Ellen reproaches, talking without looking at her husband. She is serving the portion.
"We needed it for tomorrow morning, we are going to visit your father." He pretexts. "Personally, I'll find it worst driving there than what I did tonight." He approaches to the table, brushing tenderly into his sons hairs. "Homeworks are done, boys?" He asks them.
They nods cheerily, bright round cheeks over their smiles.
Without a signal,but perfectly synchronized, the family’s members incline their heads, all in silence a moment.
"I think we can talk about Haley there. He is a cop, that can be helpful." Mentions the mother.
Beginning to eat, Moshe lost a bit his appetite. "I wonder sometimes if she is still alive?"
Suddenly, like she just realised she was not alone with her husband, but the whole family was gathered around the table, Ellen shoves a spoon of mashed potatoes in her mouth. A meaning look is given to Moshe.
That one is far from being deterred off the subject. Instead of changing, he smiles back to her with a glinter of amusement in the eyes. The meat is cut in even squares while he asks:”You boys, what do ou think of it?”
The boys look to each other intensly and to their mother and father. While she is white and holding her breath, he is affable and inviting.
“Stop making this facce, ellen, they’re old enough to have a clear opinion on the subject...on their own.” the father says, concentrating on the tas of cleaning the potatoes section now that all the meat is cut. Time passes and no one seems to eat the bait he placed. Eventually Ellen breath, of course.
Moshe sticks to his attitude, obviously expecting one will talk eventually.
“She is alive...” pronouces in one wind the youngest before chasing a few peas in his plate.
A fist bangs on the table and one of the brocoli served to the eldest is air born.”NO!” he shouts.”She is dead.”His voice screeches on the end, sign of his age and he give sme elbow blows in the shoulder of his sibbling because that is the only part of his body he can reach while sitting.
Confident, the younger brave this warning and continues proudly.”She can be alive right now then end up dead later, right?”
Moshe nods softly.”All is opened so far, you are correct.”
“But the odds...” makes the eldest, doubious.
“Equal like the hopes...” summerized the father.
“What does it matters...?”exclaims the eldest, out of the blu, with his tone half-boy, half-man. His chair tilts on the floor as he pretly gets up. A moment staying there, he trips over the legs as he tries to evade. Regaining the balance, he heads toward his room and slaps the door behind him.
“See?” expresses Ellen, standing up at her turn though calmly in her move, furious in her glance.
“Have a nice meal, spoiler...” she offers to her husband while going to knock at her son’s door.
Moshe chokes at first on the milk he s drinking. His hand clean p the moustache then the beard, his lips trning ackwardly into a smile.
He laughs.
“Wha, what’s happening?” ask his younger son. eyes quirking, uncertain on what stance to adopt himself. Should he cry now or laugh like is father?
The laughing tary into Moshe chest, he tries to restrain it. The napkin hides what is left of a snicker and he clears is throat.”Nothing, nothing Daniel.” He says very seriously.”Continue to eat...”He gently order, extending a hand to pats his son’s back of the head.
The father’s eyes displays the concern that was underlaid behind that laugh and he digs in is peas, unease.
That's the phone rigning that get him out his reflection and the voice of his younger answering to it.
Allo?oh, she is busy, can I take the message...
He askes as Moshe proceed in going to take the phone himself. He twitches his jaw."Dam ribs...I forgot them..." he makes, kneeling with a grin of pain.
Word
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