A Greater Society - Chapter 4: Olive Branches By Ratte
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The days which ensued were strange. I would say they were lonely, but only in the respect that my couple of volunteers moved home to another town. I heard whispers about their reasons, something about a group of people they were trying to avoid. I hadn't given it much thought as I had not the slightest idea who'd they refer to, nor was it my place to ask. People will do as they do, so I thanked them for their service and wished them well on their future endeavors.

Instead of the staff to keep me some company, I had the remaining child. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, or if it was even worth trying to rationalize what feelings I did have. What he was...it alarmed me, I admit, but I tried to overcome this more and more each day. I remember all too well the...things I experienced at my previous homes, and did not want to perpetuate that cycle.

...Even if he terrified me.

Yet, for some reason I still found myself wanting to interact in some way. I wanted to reach out and speak to him, comfort him in his loneliness, learn about where he came from. I was both scared and...enamored. He was the closest person to me but I held him at arm's length, because every time I saw his face I remembered everything.

I remembered why I ran so far.

I remembered the abuse, the scars, the apathy.

Why...must it be so hard? These things weighed on me more than any chain, any physical burden ever could. I wanted to be there for this little boy, a child whose experiences had not been a far cry from my own, but...my head could not decide between fear and glee the times he looked upon me with a smile. Nothing made sense and my thoughts just ate each other, getting me nowhere but further into confusion.

I wished so much that you could be here, that you could point me in the right direction. You were always...so good at untangling my thoughts and putting them back in order when I'd lose myself like this.

...But you weren't here anymore.

It was time for me to stand on my own two feet.

To keep everything running I took some extra work from nearby business, taking it home with me to sort through while I watched over my charge. Given he was my only resident at the time I hadn't much house-related work to do aside from simple inventory and daily reports. I didn't mind the extra work-- it kept the power on and put food on our plates. I did wish that the town itself was more willing to help fund this system, but they were not keen on funding something with an..."unadoptable" child unless there were other charges. I guess that was fair.

I only wish I were more capable of physical work as it likely paid better, but I...I enjoyed spending my time at home, with him. Even if we didn't interact it gave me some peace of mind just knowing where he was...and that he was safe.

---

The turn of the season brought the autumn rain. It rained a lot here, especially lately, though I personally found it pleasant. It was much warmer here in the south but the rain brought with it some cooler, milder temperatures for the rest of the day. I looked out of the lobby window to a town under grey skies, to people with their heavy clothes and umbrellas. I had already retrieved my work for the day before the rain began and was about to get started.

I lifted the heavy arm of the desk and took a seat on the small chair, grabbing a stack of papers collected from various places around town. Inventories, reports, citations, lists...a lot of things to categorize, or simple math to solve. Busywork. I grabbed my pen to start as I heard a beat of tiny footsteps in the hallway. They stopped just before the lobby corridor.

Lifting my nose I saw a small head peeking out from around the corner, looking to me but staying silent.

"Hello there," I said quietly. "Is there anything you need?"

He looked unsure before turning his gaze to the floor.

"Can I...come out here?" he asked.

At first I was surprised, but remembered that the previous volunteers suggested against allowing it. Something about public perception, that visitors and passersby would distrust the place should he be seen. Though, honestly, by now I figured he was a permanent resident and found a strange...solace in that futility.

"Of course you can," I answered.

His ears perked up a bit.

"Is it okay if I bring some stuff?" he continued.

"As long as you pick it up when you're done."

He stood in place for a moment before walking into the lobby and situating himself on the floor. With him was a pad of paper and a small handful of crayons which he set upon the floor just in front of him. I could tell he was still uneasy around me as I was him, but he distracted himself with his artwork.

"...Would you like a table and chair, or...?" I asked, puzzled.

He looked at me briefly and just quickly shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

I furrowed my brow and looked down to my papers. My chair was quite comfortable. Without much thought I stood up and took the cushion from the seat, lifted the heavy desk arm, and slowly walked over to the child in the middle of the wood floor. He tried to pretend to not notice my advance but his anxiety was far too visible.

"Riv," I whispered.

He flinched and finally looked up at me, cushion in hand.

"I don't want you sitting on the cold, hard floor," I said, offering the seat. "Please use this if you're going to be out here, it'll feel a lot better."

"...Ain't that yours?" he squeaked.

"Yes, but I would like you to use it. It will not bother me to be without it for a while and I'll feel better knowing you're more comfortable."

He hesitated but accepted the cushion, placing it under his rear and getting off of the cold floor. I gave a few light pats on his head before returning to my desk, looking over to him before starting on my work. He was by now lost in his own work, giving life to empty sheets of paper. I couldn't make out the work from here, but the colors seemed much more bright and cheerful juxtaposed with such a grey, cold day. I just sat and watched him for a moment, resting my elbows on the desk with my hands folded out in front of my snout and concealing a tiny smile.

There the two of us worked in relative silence-- a duet of pen-scratching and paper-shuffling as the sound of rain echoed throughout the home.

---

Sometime later a muffled gurgle from my resident would remind me of the time. I'd gotten so lost in my work I hadn't noticed it getting darker. I placed my hand on my own gut, not that there was much of one. It was new to me to have some reminder to eat after going this long without. Often I would just simply forget, not wanting to leave my work.

"Are you hungry?" I asked from my chair.

He nodded, putting his drawings in a neat little pile.

I reached under my desk and pulled out an empty folder before leaving the desk entirely. I stood before him a short distance as he hastened to pick everything up off the floor. Bending down to meet him I handed him the folder, opened.

"If you would like, you can put your finished drawings in here so they don't get lost or damaged," I said. "I have many of these, so please don't feel bad about accepting it. It even has some nice pockets so your art won't easily fall out should you drop it."

He just stared at it, my having already answered his inevitable question. I held the folder open as he carefully slid his drawings into the pockets, then closed it once finished and handed it to him. He stopped for a couple seconds before resuming his tidying while I retrieved the seat for my chair.

"Got everything?" I asked as I replaced the seat cushion.

He nodded again, this time with a small smile.

"Alright, let's head to the smaller kitchen and I'll...see if I can make anything," I said nervously.

Normally the volunteers would cook or we'd get food from the town, but with the volunteers now gone and my wanting to save what I could I thought it'd be wise to stick to home. I wasn't a great cook, but I could manage some simpler things.

After arriving to the kitchen I took out some butter and eggs from the icebox and bread from the counter.

"How would you like your eggs?" I inquired. "I'll try to make them how ever you'd prefer."

"...Is scrambled okay?"

"Of course."

While the butter melted in the skillet I cracked two eggs into a small bowl and added some milk, mixing everything up with a fork. Once melted I poured the mixture into the pan as Riv watched, then he took the shells to the wastebin for me. He shuffled back over to watch as I folded the eggs over and over in the pan, trying not to get too close to me or the stove. It wasn't long before the eggs were finished and piled onto a plate, topped with some salt and pepper.

I dropped another pat of butter into the pan and let it melt before laying the bread on top. We didn't have a toaster so I would hope this would suffice. After a minute or two per side I scooped up the toast and placed it neatly on the plate, then placed the food on the table along with a fork and glass of milk.

"I'm, uh, not really the best in the kitchen and I haven't cooked anything in a while, so I hope it's good enough," I said, laughing slightly.

He hopped up onto the bench and poked the eggs with the fork a few times as though to inspect them. Once confirmed safe he took a bite and seemed undeterred, giving me a slight relief. I leaned against the counter and waited for the pan to cool before washing it and the other utensils. After a few minutes he stopped eating and looked up at me.

"Why ain't you eating?" he asked.

"Oh, well, I'm just not very hungry right now," I answered. "I will make something later."

"Later?"

"Probably after you go to bed. You need not worry about me."

He looked troubled by this and looked at his plate. Most of the food had been eaten, save a small pile of eggs and half of one slice of toast. He picked up the plate and stood up, offering it to me.

"That's yours," I said. "I can make something if I need to."

"...Please eat it," he whined. "You need to eat, too."

I wasn't sure what to say. It was odd for anyone to show care for my livelihood, let alone a small child too afraid to be in the same room as me most of the time. Somehow this added a greater gravity to the gesture than it might have otherwise.

"...Okay, I will," I conceded, taking the plate.

I grabbed a fork and slowly ate through the rest of the contents. My stomach made loud noises once I began eating, remembering just how hungry it actually was. By now the food was lukewarm, but still decent enough. He sat on the bench and watched intently, ensuring I ate everything left. I could see his big eyes light up just a bit upon my taking the last bite.

"Better?" he asked from the bench.

"...Better," I sighed. "Thank you, you are too kind."

Though with still an uncertain expression he managed probably the most genuine smile I'd seen from him since his first day here. I was both humored and incredulous-- did he, a new type, really...care about my wellbeing? Whenever I gave my feelings much thought it felt like a hand squeezing my heart.

"I will take care of these few dishes, but you are free to go about your evening," I said. "This will not take long, but I still have some work I must finish afterward."

"...Can I be downstairs?" he asked.

"At least until your bedtime," I replied. "...Riv, please understand that this house, this home, is yours as well as mine. You are not required to stay in any particular room or remain on any particular floor. I don't want those things for you just as much as I wouldn't want those things for anyone else."

"Are you sure?"

I slowly reached out my hand and rested it upon his crown, my fingertips dipping into his messy hair.

"I am certain."

---

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