By Way Of An Angel

Chapter One

Dorian, son of Ian and Sarah Pippin; laid in his straw bed in a loft his father built for him. Dorian was worn-out from the work in the Fields. His hair was ratted and his face smudged with dirt. His bony arms bent together so his hands cradled his head. Worries that a ten-year-old boy should not have to think about filled his mind.

Dorian climbed down from his loft not able to sleep. The sound of his mother’s breathing kept him awake. His stomach knotted with concern for his mother, because he did not know how to comfort her. Dorian went to his mother to see if he could do anything for her.

Sarah’s breathing sounded shallow and wheezy. It took her great effort to draw air into her lungs. Her skin was ash colored and her lips a bluish purple from lack of oxygen. Fluid in her lungs from pneumonia was drowning out her life. Dorian knelt by her bedside trying to comfort his mother.

“It is all right Mother I know you will be better soon.” Dorian said as he squeezed her cold clammy hand. “I will get you some warm chicken broth for you to sip. You need to keep your strength up.”

Dorian left her bedside to walk the ten feet it took to get to the hearth where the cooking and washing were done in the small hut. The big heavy cast iron pot hung on the hook to the left side of the flame so that the chicken broth stayed warm and not too hot. Dorian ladled some broth into a small bowl and collected a wooden spoon.

“I’m back, Mother.” Dorian fluffed the pillows under Sarah’s head, so it would be easier for her to swallow without choking. Very gently, Dorian spoon-fed his weak mother the chicken broth.

“Father will be home soon he will be glad to see you doing better,” he chirped as happy as he could.

He knew his mother was very sick but tried everything he could to convince himself otherwise. To himself he would say, she would be well soon, it is only a cold, but she only got worse. Today it was a steady decline. Her eyes looked passed him as if she was not seeing him at all. Sarah was not aware of what went on around her.

Dorian sat on the floor beside the bed just watching his mother sleep, making sure she continued to breath. Wishing he could just take a nice deep breath for her, he felt his own lungs constricting. Arms wrapped around his legs he clutch his knees to his chest and buried his head praying for a miracle.

He heard his mother stir and looked up. In a weak whisper, he heard her call his name, “Dorian.”

“Yes Mother, I am here,” Dorian said, as he scrambled to his knees to get closer to her.

She continued to speak. Dorian leaned forward to put his ear closer to her mouth trying to catch every labored word, she spoke. “Dorian my son, I love you very much, and even though I will not be here in body I will always be near you in spirit. Remember what I say to you.”

Tears made streaks down Dorian’s dirty face as he listened to the last words his mother would ever say to him. Sarah, took one-more ragged breath, and with her last exhale slipped out of this world into the realm of heaven.

“Mother Mother!” Dorian cried.

Shaking her, he got no reply and silence filled the hut. Dorian hit the floor as his sobs broke the silence in the room. He felt torn away from the world and alone in a world he did not understand. Why did his mother have to die, it was all the Barons fault. Why? Nothing made sense to Dorian.

Chapter Two

Ian sat slumped over the bar weaving from side to side. The only thing that kept him from falling was the counter weight in his hand, a large mug of ale.

In the back of the pub, an older man, looking like a dirty bum, unclean and dressed in soiled rags, sat watching Ian. Getting up from his chair, he moved slowly shuffling up to the bar next to Ian.

“Where did you come from?” Ian grumbled.

“No one place really, I travel about here and there, when I’m needed,” came out of te Bum’s mouth between sputtering coughs. “

“Needed for what? You are weak and slow. What use do you have?” Ian barked back.

“Strength and speed isn’t always needed,” the Bum simply replied.

He turned to leave shuffling his feet, he was to unsteady to pick them up. The old bum slowly made his way out the door.

Dorian ran out of the hut into a dark street. Pumping his arms and legs in rhythm with each other, he ran as fast as he could. Rounding the street corner where the pub was he slammed into the old bum knocking the wind right out of him and almost knocking him to the ground. Dorian reach out his arms to balance the Bum, he coughed right in Dorian’s face.

Dorian did not jerk back or cover his face, instead; he looked right into the old man’s eyes.

“It is alright son, you are going to be alright,” gently stated the Bum.

“I have to tell my father,” were the only words Dorian could get out.

“I know son.”

Suddenly Dorian felt calm, he had an overwhelming peace that had come over him. He felt secure and safe. Dorian did not know what to think, how did this old man, a stranger, know what he had to tell his father? How could he know he would be all right, but something, deep down, inside Dorian made him believe this old Bum?

By the time Dorian was around to the entrance of the pub, his father was outside in the street. Dorian calmly walked up to him said, “Father, Mother has gone to be with the angels.”

Chapter Three

Dorian approached the entrance to the small hut that held the remains of his loving mother. Reaching up to the doorway to pull his small frame inside, he felt something else. He yanked his hand back. How did he get here so quick? Poking his head out of the doorway to look at Dorian, the moonlight enhanced the devilish features of the Baron, Lucifer Beelzebub.

“Dorian I have come to collect the money needed to bury your mother and since you and your father stole from me, I will not allow a funeral.”

“Stole from you? You lie! That corn was from our own food storage. Father and I brought the corn to you to sell fairly! You know it! Without that money we could not pay for a doctor to see her, and now she is dead!” Dorian screamed with rage!

The Baron reached out and grabbed Dorian by the shirt collar, and yanked him off his feet, “Boy your father stole those six bushels of corn form me, and you are lucky I did not turn him over to the King.”

Dorian kicked and punched trying to free himself from the boney talons of the Baron. The Baron had his collar pulled up around his neck so tight it was choking him. Dorian thought he was going to pass out.

“Reeer!” Hissss!” were the next sounds Dorian heard before he crumpled to the ground. Looking up he saw where the noise had come from. A stray dog had spotted a cat, and was now in full pursuit. The cat raced in through the open doorway and the dog sped past, right on the cat’s tail. The dog’s feet scrapped on the slick floor not able to get traction knocking over the broom. The broom handle hit right on the Baron’s eagle beak nose.

Eyes watering and nose bleeding the Baron clapped his hand over his beak yelling, “I will kill every cat and dog in this village! I will kill them!”

Dorian finding his own escape shot to his feet and began running. Looking back over his shoulder, Dorian noticed for the first time that there were four guards standing outside of his hut. They all stood straight as an arrow, but their mouths were quivering at the corners trying to hold back their laughter. Dorian now at a safe distance let out his own laughter.