Eyes of Slate and Limping Gait

Word Count 532

The bleak sky mirrored their country’s path ever since the invasion. With food scarce and millions of families deposed from their homes, Jack and Jamie were no different from the thousands of other faces on the streets of what had once been New York City. People panhandling, pickpocketing, and looking for work, only Jasper stood out. Jasper’s clear grey eyes made people stop and stare, knowing somehow he was different; he would make a difference.

Jack’s shoulders slumped as he held onto his sign advertising his eagerness to work. Jamie used to hold a similar sign, but it attracted jobs neither of them was willing for her to take…more than occasionally. Jasper, on the other hand, stood with his hands behind him, back against the wall, waiting.

“I’m going to that bakery and see if we have enough for any of their rejects,” Jamie said.

“Take Jasper with you. Maybe I’ll have better luck alone.”

“Come on, honey,” signaling to Jasper.

Jasper bounced his butt against the wall then followed his mother silently, obediently. His limping gait not slowing him down.

She knew she was lucky to have Jasper. She’d seen willful children with others and at times they made their parents’ lives nightmares with screaming and crying and cursing. Other times they were simply taken away by a soldier who’d had enough of their attitude. Jamie was lucky and she knew it. So did Jack.

Jasper walked quietly by his mom’s side, holding on to her hand, careful not to get lost in the crowd.

Suddenly, a stranger grabbed Jamie’s elbow. “Miss!” He stared at Jasper.

Annoyed and concerned that someone would handle her, she politely pulled her elbow free and tensed her muscles unconsciously as she waited a brief moment for him to either tell her why he’d stopped her, or to begin an assault.

“His eyes.” The stranger continued to stare at Jasper.

“Yes, they’re beautiful. He has his father’s eyes.” Not exactly true, but she wanted the stranger to know Jasper’s father was in the picture. Her stomach growled in protest at the interruption of her quest for food and she hoped the sound might deflect the stranger's thoughts.

Jamie tried to move around the stranger, but he moved with her, blocking her path, staring at Jasper.

“No." he insisted, "They’re his eyes. ‘The eyes of him will be of light and slate, you’ll know it’s him by his eyes and gait.’” Then he whispered, “It’s the leader of the revolution. We’ve been waiting for him.”

“No. We have to go.” She whispered back, not wanting to draw attention, but not wanting to continue the conversation with this unknown person. She pushed past him.

“Wait!”

Jamie grasped Jasper’s hand tighter and slipped through the crowd, ducking her head down to more easily be lost.

Eventually they slowed as they approached the bakery many blocks away. She released Jasper’s hand, but he tugged at her sleeve as she reached for the door. She turned to him.

“When?” he asked, eyes plaintiffly searching her face.

“When you’re older…when it’s time.” She pulled on the handle of the bakery door and out wafted the smell of hope and freshly made bread.