Chapter 71. Matches.

  Suvalitol struck her last homemade match, high with the hopes the flame would take.

  Lief shivered in his pansy blue shirt. His mother had restitched the old dress the season before. ‘You’re to big to be in a dress’ he could remember her saying—yeah all children until a certain age wore dresses, it was just easier to take care of them that way.

  It was now deep in the season of frost. That howling wind was thin and sharp. He was thankful for the shirt and trousers she stitched. Dresses in the frost are extremely dreadful.

  The two had been graced with flame. With that same match Suvalitol lit the pipe she readied only moments earlier. Soon after the pot belly started to glow and the warmth slowly radiate.

  The frost was heavy that season producing the soft cold melty substances for moons on end. Lief liked rolling the stuff around during the calm days but afternoons like today were excruciating. The wind was so loud as it ripped past the entrance—it was how some of you would say ‘dumping outside.’

  “We shall build a door when Melt comes.” His mother said behind a cloud of pipe smoke. she too glanced at the entrance. The wind whipped with frost. The flakes were so angry out there, some even had the nerve to intrude. All was futile. The glow of the pot belly was warm, and the baked clay walls absorbed the heat and dispersed the warmth evenly—I told you the Rodentulous is a clever species.

  Her hands never stopped. She worked steadily and slowly. Teaching Lief how to twist the cotton into a fine tight stick. Showing him how to hang the wicks after dipping them in honey. Once they’ve cleared and dried, she would guide him on how to seal the wick in beeswax. Informing when to roll the wick tight with a dried wad of filaments all of such becoming a combustible when struck against a course surface.

  “We shall also build you a box for your own things, that would be nice wouldn’t it sweet Lief?” she added with a puff.

  Lief didn’t talk much, but he nodded in agreement.

  The boy did want his own box for his things. The rocks and feathers he liked, he would always carry, or tuck in his armpit if he needed both hands, but never would he leave his thing out of arms reach, for fear of a critter taking them. For some reason or another the wild chickens and squirrels loved stealing those colorful rocks.

  “Do you think my tree may have sprouted by then?”

  Lief surprised her with more then just a “yes" or a “thank you". She pushed a damp quarter into the potbelly and it steamed and hissed while it dried and burned.

  “I’m afraid not sweet Lief, this frost was harsh, and we did start your plot late in the season. Even with my miracle grow and your ability.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  She smiled wiggling her nose pulling his thumb, a fun interaction between the two, a joke if you will, like got your nose, or I can eat my eyeball kind of tricks. She would always say she was going to take his green thumbs and plant them, growing a plot of green thumbs of her own. She would never do such a thing but it was fun, it was warm, it was a tickling sensation that always made him smile.

  “But who knows sweet Lief miraculous things happen everyday you just have to look for them.”

  “Like the day you seen me?”

  He smiled surprising her again with another reply, and his chocolate eyes were bright and full of what ifs. He didn’t even seem to mind when then the whistle of a narrow wind blew inside their clay hole.

  “Just like when I seen you, I knew you were a tender seed, and needed your own space to grow. So I would leave you be, just always watching you, feed and water you..”

  Lief put his cotton twist down, stood up, and ran outside. Suvalitol stay on her sitting pillow, sipping her pipe, twisting the cotton. Lief was embracing the cold. Out there in his plot he shoveled handful after handful of frost. It was tough to compete against the forces of nature but he did his best, trying to uncover his plot—the boy had early outlines for the stars of Determination.

  “Come inside Lief.”

  She said from the burrows entrance. It was a firm command. This tone from his mother was new to Lief and he stopped what he was doing, and blinked blankly at her.

  “Come inside sweet Lief, it’s to cold to grow outside.” She said more comforting.

  He looked down where he was digging. There he seen it. The small leaf of a sapling and with that little bit of breaking sunlight Lief watched his olive tree sprout up. Nearly as tall as he.

  Suvalitol smiled, blue eyes twinkling like the stars. Walking closer, she dropped an arm over Lief and looked at the start of his olive tree.

  “It needed space to grow, the frost was crowding it.” Lief said to his tree, brushing away the small piles of build up.

  This was incredible, Suvalitol had no idea her plots would still grow during the heavy frost of the season. So she too turned around and started shoveling the frost with her hands. Sure enough the were budding cabbage heads, and spinach sprouts. She dusted frost from her pots of tea. Each grow the late planted sapling. Same was true for her tobacco plot.

  She grabbed the cherry grape vine growing with multiple strands. All lay arched around the entrance of the mountain hole. She gave it a gentle shake, causing frost to fall gracefully. The soft rosy white petals bloomed and juicy black cherried grapes ripe with swirling flavor, the fruit was magical chasing one another across the vine all while the soft petals bloomed and fell, blending with the falling frost.

  “See..” She popped a cherry grape into her mouth, giving one to Lief.

  “Miraculous things happen everyday we just have to watch for them.”

  Lief smiled chewing his fruit.

  “My sweet Lief, such a blessing to the garden.” She handed him another cherry grape before gently nudging him inside. She then picked a vines worth, catching them in her dress like a quick basket. Before stepping back inside herself.

  The tea kettle whistled with a low toot. Lief’s lips held a faint curve as the memory faded.

  “Would you like me to fetch that?” Beck said with a mouth of smoke.

  The boy departed from his thoughts and re-entered his room. Glancing at Beck.

  The dwarf was pushing his small finger into the pipe. Tamping the tobacco. A piece of ember stick to his finger, but Beck didn’t seem to notice.

  “No I’m sorry Beck, I was just enjoying the aroma, how does it smoke?” He asked standing from his pillow. He walked to the stool acting as a table removing the over enthusiastic kettle from the burner. He poured Beck a pint of tea, and placed a few crumbs of a dried herb and mushroom within.

  Hopefully it would be enough. Beck was a heavy dwarf and this was something Lief had never truly done to another yet. Watching the dusty particles melt into the hot drink he placed the cup before Beck.