by Alessio Cala
"Where have you been?" she asked curiously. Sam smiled and dived in to help Annie pick the tomatoes that he knew were most ripe, a skill he had learned from his time in the garden with Frank.
"To the stables."
"Again? I hope you said thank you to Callum for showing you the horses."
"I did."
"And how is he?" Annie asked.
"Good."
"And the girls?"
"Yeah. They let me sit on the horse, but we didn't go though, just to sit."
"That's nice of them. That place sure has come a long way."
"Henry would've been proud," said Frank.
A rapid knock against the kitchen window turned the heads of the three in the allotment. Sam peered past the garden and saw Tracy; her head hunched low beneath the curtains, and she waved them all in as she did every day. That was her signal. Lunch was ready. Sam darted back up through the narrow patch of soil and into the clearing. Max returned to him with the stick and placed it by his feet. He turned back to see Frank, his neck craned up to the roof where a ladder was propped up by the downspout.
"Baz, come on, mate,” Frank shouted up to the roof.
Sam looked up. Barry's balding head popped out from the concealment of the roof. The sky was bright and cast a shadow across his excited plump face. He wore a set of thick bottle-rimmed glasses, courtesy of a new optician in the outskirts of Merribank. They weren't the most stylish of spectacles, but they allowed the man to see again.
"I-I-I-I'm coming," he yelled back down the ladder. Frank held onto the base of the ladder as Barry descended, one foot at a time. The plump man held a wooden hammer in his stiff hands. His bones had healed but his fingers were not as nimble as they once were. He had told Sam before about how he struggled to move them. Sam remembered not to stare and he ruffled Max's fur in adoration. The adults gathered inside the house and he heard Annie call his name.
"I'm coming," Sam yelled back through the front door. As he stroked the dog's chin, he looked out and scanned the land around them; the rolling hills of fields that held pockets of trees dotting the landscape. He had seen it all before during the dark days, but seeing it in this way, with these people, it was as though he was seeing Autark again for the first time. He smiled to himself and looked down at Max who stared back up, patiently awaiting the command so that he could dive in for the meal. "Come on, Max." Together they hopped up the porch and ran into the house. Sam shut the door behind him and the sun remained high above the clouds.
The raven remained silent, watching from afar. There was a glint in its eye, something that held it from leaving right away. It continued to stare at the house, hesitant to leave. It had perched on that same branch every other day for the past six months. Behind its deep, black eyes lay an array of emotion. There was guilt and sacrifice in its falter. It seemed to struggle with it every day, but above all, after seeing those who cared for the boy; those feelings were soon overwhelmed with acceptance. The raven croaked softly, readying its wings for flight. It took off suddenly and returned east to its home in the mountains. Those people would never be forgotten. They were the ones who restored Autark, the ones who gave the people their freedom.
