Time dragged slow as Leena lay on the cold, wooden veranda with her arms under her head and facing out towards the front. Her arms were beginning to prick with pins, but she ignored the feeling and embraced the wet smell of earth and the sound of pattering.

Rain fell hard like nails, and the thunder came like a hammer on her heart. Blue lightning struck in the woods across the road. It lit up the view of the road.

A figure appeared, dark and tall, blurred in the rain, distinct in the light of the judgment of the gods.

Leena jolted upright. She squinted at it, trying to make sense of it. Her hands searched for a makeshift weapon, and all she could feel was a loose nail from the veranda, so she pulled it out, palming it, and scrambled to her feet.

As the figure moved closer, she determined it was a human, a boy. The mud squelched under his feet with each laborious step. Soaked to bone, ragged, and worn, he stopped at the foot of the steps, blinking at her as the rain washed over him. She could see the vapors of his breath escaping through the air.

He ran a hand through his hair with his free hand. His other hand carried a satchel.

“What do you want?” Leena asked, straightening herself, looking down on him from her perch.

He looked her in the eye, “I need a place to stay for the night out of the rain.” His voice was strangely strong. She felt her muscles contract involuntarily.

He took a step up on the veranda. She stepped back, hitting the door with her back. A bolt of lightning struck the road.

“G-G-Grandfather!” she called, knocking on the door with her knuckles.

The boy stepped up the veranda until he was under the awning.

“What is it?” her grandfather snarled as he opened the door.

A moment passed between them. The boy looked her grandfather in the eye.

“I need a place to stay for the night,” he said calmly. Water dribbled in rivulets down his cheeks.

Lightning struck again, farther away this time. Leena watch as her grandfather gritted his teeth, staring intensely at the boy before them.

“I’ll pay,” said the boy, and he reached his hand into his satchel, producing a gleaming piece of metal. Her grandfather quickly pocketed the payment.

“Come in and warm up,” Grandfather greeted him, his harsh expression changing into an amicable smile.

“Thank you,” acknowledged a respectful voice from the drenched young man as he stepped forward.

“You can come in, too,” Grandfather said roughly to Leena. So she followed the boy through the door.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” the young man said, “My name is Bo. Bo Greenwood.”

“I’m Corden Wyatt. This is Leena. Leena, show Mr. Greenwood to the guest room.” Her wintry grandfather sat back down on his plain, wooden chair by the deteriorating hearth, eyeing Bo’s drenched figure.

“Come,” Leena beckoned him grudgingly, knowing that she was the one who was going to have to clean the mud and wet from the floor.

She led him up the creaking steps to the blue room.

It was a lovely room. Leena used to go there just to think and watch the songbirds out the window play and sing. Light, cool breezes would be welcoming on hot, summer days when she opened the glass windows. Sunshine would bounce off the walls and give the room a soft, blue glow.Her sister had slept in that room. Her grandmother had died in that room.

Now the white lace curtains were old and musty, and the room smelled of mothballs and dust. The window was broken and boarded up. Leena did not go in the room.

“You okay?” Bo asked, startling her from her thoughts. He looked at her with wide eyes, clear and concerned. She remembered the nail in her hand.

“Yes. I’m fine. I’m fine,” she mumbled. He stood a bit taller than her, leaning towards her.

“This is your room,” she said as she gently pushed the door open.

“I’m sorry to bother you about it, but my satchel has been thoroughly soaked through. Do you happen to have any extra clothes?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she moved away from him, “M-maybe, but…Hold on.” She turned away from him, putting two fingers to her lips.

She went down the hall a bit to the other room she refused to go into unless prompted. It was her parents’ room.

A deep hole filled her as she stepped over the threshold, and it made her pause in reverent thought. Her mother was presumably still alive somewhere. She had left Leena, her sister, and her father to travel elsewhere. Leena never understood where she went or what she was doing, but she remembered the look in her father’s eyes as he slowly sunk away into nothing. She remembered him laying in the bed with eyes hollow like a doll’s and with his hands loose and dangly. She remembered his cold skin and a smell that permeated the house in the hot summertime.

Thunder rumbled, and she saw what she needed from the room. Her father’s old clothing, still hanging in the open wardrobe.

She grabbed what she could and lightly sped out of the room on her toes.

“Here!” she blurted at Bo who was still standing, dripping on the floor. She shoved the clothes in his arms.

“Thanks, Leena,” he said, looking at her in the eyes.

“You’re welcome,” she mumbled, turning away from his gaze.

She heard the door close as she started down the stairs to her grandfather who was sitting in front of only cinder and ash. He saw her and rose from his chair.

“Don’t hand around with that boy too much. He’s bad news. Wanderin’ around like a hobo. Probably a thief,” Grandfather said as he stood, towering above her, “You hear me? I’m telling you something.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If I catch you around him at all, I’m gonna let you have it, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her hands shaking slightly.

“Now, clean up this mess and get to bed,” he commanded, pacing towards the stairs, “And don’t forget breakfast in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” She ran to the kitchen to get some towels and noticed the rain start to slacken.