The Evestar Wars. Part 1: The Civil War.

By Sean Austin

From the moment his parents died in a freak accident, Jon began growing up far faster than he should have. Rescued from an orphanage and given a good home, in time he learned that opening up to let others into the protective shell he had created for himself became easier. Even the rare opportunity for love became possible. By the time the Civil War broke out, he had grown into a teenager. Too young to enlist and yet desperate to do his part, he lied about his age and joined the Flying Corps. Through luck and the help of his newly found friends, he completed his training and found himself on the front line. What he discovered there were the harsh realities of war. In the fast paced and ferocious battles that took place he soon learned the hard truth that not everyone could go home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sean Austin
• Release date: Jan 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463079539

Sean Austin

Sean Austin is an award winning* hobby writer who lives in Melbourne, Australia.After working as a Geologist in Mount Isa, a remote town in outback western Queensland, he swapped the heat and rugged landscape for the city and now spends his time mowing roadsides for the council.(* Winner of the Aerican Empire Poetry Ball award 2008 and co-winner of the Aerican Empire IDBAD Award 2019.)

Book preview

Prologue

He sits in the grass, leaning against the warm brick of the hangar wall. Staring along the length of the taxiway and flight line, he shakes his head and sighs. So many, he thinks to himself, so many gone and for what? He counts them up, picturing their faces as he remembered them. Most of his first command were gone, only himself and three others out of sixteen were still standing on the line. The rest were gone, killed or maimed in the ferocious and unforgiving fighting. Most of his friends were gone as well. The memory of a beautiful face framed by dark hair intrudes on his thoughts, the remembered feel of a warm porcelain skinned body lying next to his. The memory is so powerful he can almost smell her perfume. He grimaces and reluctantly banishes the image with an effort. There were far too many unhappy memories.

As the sun sinks, it's orange glow washes over him like a benediction, its warmth melting the wall he had built around his heart just the tiniest amount. It was finally over and he could let people in again, accept them wholly without the fear of losing them hanging over his head. Even as he thinks that, the memory of a burning flyer falling out of the sky intrudes on his mind. He sighs again and wonders if it would ever really be over. After everything he has seen and done, he wonders if he can finally go home.

Part I:

Chapter 1

The fair had been wonderful, the bright colours of the juggler’s clothes holding him enthralled as they strolled through the stalls. He had watched the balls seeming to float through the air without skipping a beat, the jugglers smiling at him and telling him jokes. The grilled sausages he had eaten for lunch had been hot and delicious, the melted cheese inside them warming him against the chill in the air. The Autumn Fair had been everything he could have dreamed of, even if by the time his parents had wrapped his jacket around him tightly and dragged him away it had become chill with the sky swiftly clouding over. They had murmured to themselves that the weather had turned and they would be lucky to get home before the storm arrived. He wasn't listening to them, didn't hear the worry in their voices. All he wanted was one more ride around the ring with the horses, one more grilled sausage. He sighed as his parents opened the car door and gently pushed him inside. Fastening the lap belt, he looked over his shoulder through the window at the fairground as his father lit the burner under the boiler, shaking his head at the prospect of having to wait another year to return. His sigh turned into a yawn and he smiled slightly, his eyes slowly closing as the excitement of the day finally took its toll and he fell asleep.

The heavy car chugged along the icy road, the steam heating barely enough to ward off the chill of the storm battering against the glass. He heard his father cursing the snow softly under his breath as he wrestled with the steering wheel, struggling to keep the car on the road.

If it gets much colder the water will freeze. his father muttered to his mother. If that happens, we're going to be stuck here for some time.

He opened his eyes at his father's voice, glancing blearily at his parents in the front seat.

Are we home? he asked, his young voice high and thick with sleep.

His mother turned to look at him with a smile. Reaching back, she settled a blanket around him.

We're nearly there Jon. Close your eyes and rest. I'll wake you when we get there.

He smiled and nodded, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep again. Faintly he heard his father saying something, the deep rumble of his voice fading away the last thing he heard.

The accident was a blur to Jon. There was snow, lots of snow and a terrible screaming. A deafening jumble of sharp crunching sounds that came from all around him as he was thrown and shaken violently, then blackness. The blackness didn't seem to last long before it was replaced for a while by a disorientating and half felt fuzzy greyness and cold. Even through all his layers of clothes it was bitterly cold and he unconsciously curled into a tight ball against it. The movement brought on a sharp pain and he cried out weakly before the grey haze settled once more and blotted it out. Finally hands were pulling at him and he saw blurry faces and bright lights, indistinct voices murmuring through his head. The pain returned as the hands carried him, then nothing but the mercifully silent blackness again.

When he woke, he found himself in a hospital ward, the curtains around his bed half drawn to give him some privacy. His head throbbed painfully as he sat up and looked beyond the curtains at the rest of the ward. The silence of the room felt oppressive to him and he wondered where his parents were. Surely they should have been by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. It was a mystery to him why they were not there, why his mother wasn't fussing over him while his father waited behind her with a worried frown. Unless of course the nurses had told them he would be alright and they had to wait outside. That must be the reason, he thought to himself. The nurses had said he needed his rest and they had to wait outside in case they woke him up. He lay down again, his head spinning with the effort it had taken to sit up. Despite the worry that his parents weren't there, he felt tired and closed his eyes, promising himself it would just be a quick rest. When he woke they would be waiting for him with their worried smiles and their warm and gentle arms ready to embrace him. The thought made him smile and he drifted off to sleep again.

It was dark when he woke again, only a palely burning lamp turned down to a bare minimum halfway down the ward gave out any illumination. He sat up, his headache gone as he wondered about the silence in the room. There were still no other patients occupying any of the other beds and he peeled the sheets off, swinging his feet around until they dangled from the side of his bed. The floor was cold when he slid from the mattress, his feet quietly padding across the worn boards as he walked to the door. There was no one to stop him as he opened it, feeling a warm draught waft past him into the ward as he did. He stepped out into the corridor and continued walking, wondering where everyone was. Doors opened off the corridor to each side but he bypassed them, sticking to the corridor and the warmth. The other rooms didn't interest him even though he could hear people snoring or muttering quietly as he passed. A soft voice ahead drew his attention and he quickened his steps, his head starting to feel a little dizzy with the exertion.

He came to a juncture, another corridor branching off to his left. The solid wall became a head high desk and the voices sounded louder from the other side.

The poor boy simply won't wake. You and I have looked in on him almost every hour for the last three days and he sleeps on. Even though he swallows the cold broth and the water that is trickled into his mouth, he shows no other sign of life. It may be a mercy if he slips away quietly without ever waking. the first voice said.

Hush your talk Melissa. Thinking the death of a child is a mercy? You ought to be ashamed of yourself. a second voice snapped.

He listened unnoticed to the conversation thinking that the boy in question must be extremely sick.

All I mean is that with his parents killed in that accident, if he ever does wake up, well, where is he to go? From what we've been able to find, he has no other family so the only place left for him is the orphanage. Melissa continued doggedly. I've heard stories of those places and he would be far better off if he never went there.

The owner of the second voice tutted reproachfully.

I am sure the orphanage cannot be that bad. Anyway, he is still young and quite a handsome lad so a foster family will more than likely pick him up quite quickly. You mark my words; he won't spend the rest of his childhood in that place. I would go so far as to say he will be out of the orphanage before his next birthday.

There was a soft sigh and Melissa replied.

I'm sure you're right. I simply find that he is most unfortunate to have had this thrust upon him so young.

She sighed again and he heard a rustle of cloth.

I'd better go check on him again while I'm thinking about him.

There was a whispering of feet and a woman appeared, her red hair bouncing on her shoulders as she rounded the desk. He looked up at her as she came to a complete stop with a cry inches from him.

Oh Dear Lord, what are you doing out of bed?

Hurried footsteps sounded and a second woman appeared, older than the first with greying hair under her nurses’ cap. She nodded to herself as she looked at the younger nurse reprovingly.

Merciful you said?

The younger nurse stared at him in shock, her elder brushing past her to pick him up gently.

Come along then Master O'Cullum. Let's get you back into bed.

He put his arms around her neck as she carried him up the corridor.

Have you seen my Mum and Dad? he asked her.

She sighed against the top of his head.

Let's get you back to bed and then we can talk.

He waited until the nurse was tucking him back into bed before he asked her again.

Will Mum and Dad come in to see me in the morning?

The nurse hesitated for a long moment then sighed and sat down in the chair next to his bed.

I am sure I will regret this but I must tell you.

She thought about how to tell him, the depth of her concentration making her frown. Eventually she shook her head and looked at him.

I am sorry to break the news to you like this but there was an accident, several days ago now. Your father lost control of the auto you were travelling in during a blizzard. It skidded on the ice that was forming on the road and rolled off the embankment, crashing into a stand of trees. Both of your parents sustained grave injuries during the accident and between their injuries and the cold, they...

She hesitated again, not wanting to break the boy’s heart but knowing she had to.

They died sometime after the accident. she finished.

Jon stared at her, trying to make sense of what she told him.

They died? he asked in a small voice.

The nurse nodded slowly in response.

The people who found you were surprised that you had survived. You were so cold when they found you inside the wreck that they didn't know if you would live much longer. They wrapped you up as quickly as they could and put you in their auto, hoping the heat inside would warm you up. They went back to the crash to see if they could help your parents but there was nothing they could do.

He sat silently in his bed for a few minutes, the news not really sinking in. The nurse stood to leave and he flinched. She noticed and sat back down.

They're not coming, are they? he said woodenly, staring at his hands.

The nurse shook her head.

I am afraid they won't be.

He nodded absently and looked at her.

Are you going to take me to that place the other lady was talking about?

The nurse frowned, inwardly cursing her colleague.

Perhaps. Is there anyone we can send a message to? An uncle or aunt perhaps? Your grandparents?

Jon frowned, trying to think of someone he knew. He knew his parents had friends but he couldn't remember them introducing him to an aunt or uncle. He couldn't even remember any grandparents. Eventually he shook his head, returning his gaze to his hands. The nurse sighed and idly tucked in the corner of his blanket.

Let's wait for a little while to see if anyone comes looking for you before we start talking about the orphanage.

She smiled at him uncertainly.

You never know, perhaps someone will come and you won't have to go to the orphanage at all.

Chapter 2

Jon climbed out of the car quickly, shaking and close to tears. The short ride from the hospital to his new home brought back all the terror and loss that now shaped his life and he looked back at it balefully before turning to see the place they had brought him to. For the last four weeks he had remained at the hospital, waiting and desperately hoping that it would all be nothing more than a bad dream. Eventually, when no one had come to claim him, the decision had been made to move him to the orphanage. The nurses had patiently told him that the orphanage wasn't that bad, that he was sure to be adopted quickly and he wouldn't be staying there all that long. But he knew they were only trying to cheer him up. Now that he was standing on the footpath gripping the handle of his small case tightly, he stared up at the imposing stone wall surrounding the building and silently prayed they were right. The muted sound of children playing on the other side of the wall gave him some hope and he looked up at his minder as she climbed out of the car and stood next to him. Melissa had told him at the hospital that she felt bad for what he might have overheard her say the night he'd woken up. That was why she had volunteered to escort him here. She smiled down at him encouragingly, her red hair glowing brightly in the sun.

Welcome to Saint Aspidus Orphanage. I'm sure you'll spend only a few days here before you get adopted. she told him cheerily. You're such a cute young boy that I simply can't see anyone passing you up.

She got no further as the heavy oak gate they were standing in front of opened with a creak and they looked at it expectantly. A stout middle aged woman appeared in the widening gap, her iron grey hair framing her sternly lined face.

You'll be the youngster I was told was coming then. she said brusquely to Jon.

He nodded meekly and Melissa laid her hand on his shoulder.

This is Jonathan O'Cullum, ma'am. His parents were killed in an auto accident several weeks ago. As no one came forward to claim him, it was decided to place him under the care of the orphanage.

The stout lady glanced at Melissa and nodded shortly.

Well enough then. Come in and we'll sort through the paperwork.

Jon was made to wait outside in the corridor while Melissa and the stout lady talked in an office. After half an hour, Melissa came out and sat on a chair beside him.

Well Jon, this is as far as I take you. she told him kindly. The matron will be showing you your room shortly and she'll tell you all the rules they have here. Mind you behave yourself and smile when people come through. Do that and you'll be out of here with a nice family in no time.

The stout woman who had greeted him at the gate coughed lightly in the doorway of her office.

I'd prefer you did not fill the boys head with such nonsense. she admonished primly. He'll be adopted when the opportunity arises, not before. If the opportunity does not arise, he will remain here until his seventeenth birthday. Whereupon he will be drafted into the army as all strapping young men should be.

Melissa scowled and didn't turn to look at the woman.

If I had the money and the space, I'd have adopted you myself. she told Jon instead, letting a smile crease her freckled face.

Sighing, she shook her head and shrugged.

Unfortunately, I'm neither married nor well off and I certainly don't have the space you need to run around in, not at the women’s dormitory where I'm staying.

Jon forced a desperate smile onto his face. Despite what he had heard her say when he'd first met her and partly because of what she had said, he wished that she had adopted him. He reached out and put a shy hand in hers.

Can we go home now? he implored. I don't want to stay here.

The stout lady snorted and shook her head, muttering under her breath. Melissa frowned at her for a moment then smiled to Jon.

I wish I could Jon, I really do. she told him gently. Remember what I told you though. Be good, be polite and smile. Everyone likes a smile. Remember that and you'll be somewhere better in no time.

He frowned, fighting to hold back a profound feeling of loneliness and deep sadness.

Visit me? he asked in a small voice.

Melissa smiled and nodded.

I'll come see you every week. I promise you.

The stout woman turned back to them and glowered at Melissa.

I'm sure your time is yours to do with as you wish Miss Coleridge. However, my time is not. I've work do to and before that I'm to get Master O'Cullum settled. If you don't mind, I'd like to do that before the day is over.

Melissa scowled again in irritation. Jon glanced up at the stout woman's stern face and frowned unhappily. Melissa put her hand on his cheek to draw his attention, turning him away from the unyielding stare of the older woman.

Be good Jon. she told him fervently. Be good and be strong. This place is not your destiny, I know that much. You're going to go on to great things when you grow up and one day I'm sure you'll have children of your own. When that day comes, just think of your parents smiling down on you from above and know they're proud of you.

She kissed him on the cheek and stood. Before she turned and hurried away, Jon could have sworn there were tears in her eyes.

The stout woman waited patiently until Melissa was out of sight and earshot before she rounded on Jon.

Remember this Master O'Cullum. I am the woman you must please if you wish to be adopted out. I am your strict disciplinarian and your teacher, my word is law. If you break any of the rules I will set out for you, there will be swift punishment. You will learn discipline and manners here as we do not believe in mollycoddling our charges. If you fail to abide by the rules or displease me in any way, I assure you that your destiny is to be drafted into the army on your seventeenth birthday. Do I make myself understood. she barked.

Jon nodded hurriedly, wide eyed and at a loss for words. Even as young as he was, he knew she had just threatened to make sure he would never be adopted if he didn't do what she told him to. She looked down her long nose at him, finally nodding to herself at his petrified face.

I see that you do understand. Now follow me and I will settle you into your dormitory.

She strode off along the corridor and Jon scrambled to catch up, lugging his small case behind him.

There were four bunks in the small room she ushered him into, stacked in pairs against opposite walls. The room was painted a dull grey and despite the sun streaming through the window in the far wall, it felt cold and lifeless. Four small cupboards stood together under the window at the end of the room and the woman rapped on one of them sharply.

This is for what personal belongings you've brought. If you are not adopted quickly, you will be supplied with additional clothing and footwear as required, unless the clothing in question has been ruined through wanton destruction. It is expected that you will endeavour to make your clothing and possessions last as long as is practically possible. Deliberately ruining your clothes will not be tolerated.

She moved on to the bunks, indicating a folded over mattress on one of the bottom spaces.

This will be your bed for your time here. I can assure you that there is no difference between bunks, each is as comfortable as the next.

He looked around the room hesitantly and she smiled thinly.

Your bunkmates are currently out in the yard, doubtlessly making a nuisance of themselves.

She glanced at her watch briefly before striding past him out into the corridor.

Dinner will be served at the sound of the gong, approximately an hour and a half from now. I suggest you unpack your belongings into your locker then join the other children in the yard. When the gong sounds you are to follow them to the dining hall. After that you will be expected to return to this room before lights out.

She turned away from him and marched off before he could ask any questions.

Chapter 3

Jon quickly discovered how cruel the children in the orphanage could be. On the evening of his first day there, several of the older children approached him after dinner and took him by the arms. Half carrying, half dragging him, they took him to the toilets and dunked his head into the bowl amid howls of laughter and cheering. With his hair dripping cold water into his eyes, Jon stared at the eldest boy in shock. The boy stared down at him as the others left, patting each other on the back in effusive congratulations. For perhaps the briefest of moments, he thought he saw a flicker of apology cross the boy’s face before it became a mask of indifference.

Welcome to Saint Arsewipe's pipsqueak. he finally said. You're now one of the family.

He turned his back on Jon and walked away.

The torment continued as soon as he reached his room, the three boys he was sharing with throwing eggs and handfuls of feathers at him the moment he opened the door. As the smashed eggs slid down his face and a yolk stained feather tickled his nose, the boys pointed and laughed at him. He hurried to his locker to get his towel, only to find his locker emptied out and his meagre possessions gone. Their loss hit him harder than the cruelty of the children around him and he finally burst into tears, throwing himself on the bed and pulling the pillow over his head. Through his sobbing and the muffling of his thin pillow, he could distantly hear his three roommates still laughing and congratulating each other. Without removing the pillow from his head, he pulled his blankets over his shaking shoulders and cried himself to sleep.

Within the first week, the other children blamed him for several broken windows and a host of other misdeeds that earned him the ire of the matron and the punishment of peeling potatoes with a blunt blade. Each time he had also received a single cane across the back of his thighs to remind him that he must behave. During the afternoon of his seventh day, he saw the matron striding purposefully toward him and he scowled, wondering what new mess he had been blamed for. She stopped ten feet away stopped as he stood, crooking her finger demandingly.

Jonathan O'Cullum, you will come with me this instant. she barked.

He bowed his head morosely and shuffled after her as she turned and marched back toward the office. He didn't look up at the others as they giggled and whispered behind their hands, ignoring them completely until the door closed with a thud behind him and the matron pointed imperiously to a chair. A dead rat sat on top of the blotter on her desk and he stared at it as she rounded the desk to sit heavily in her chair.

Explain yourself Master O'Cullum. she ordered sharply.

He glanced up at her and shrugged, already knowing she wouldn't believe anything he told her.

I didn't do it. he told her mulishly.

She scowled, two dark red blotches of colour flaring up on her heavy face.

So I suppose the dead rat crawled into my desk drawer all by itself then? she told him sarcastically, pointing to the rat sitting on top of her desk.

He fought the smile that threatened to cross his face. As far as he was concerned, she deserved it but he didn't dare say that to her.

I didn't do it. he told her again instead.

Her scowled disappeared, to be replaced by a grim smile as she took a thin cane from the wall behind her desk. His eyes were torn away from the rat at the canes appearance, becoming large and round even as he shrank into himself.

That would be twice that you've denied pulling this little prank. she said tightly. I know otherwise. I have it on good authority that you were seen entering my office this morning with the offending diseased creature in your hand.

Jon scowled. 'Good authority' could only mean that she had spoken to someone who had decided to blame him for the prank, rather than take the punishment for themselves. The matron dropped her voice to a dangerously silky tone as she stroked the cane in her hand absently.

I will give you one more chance Master O'Cullum. You know what to expect if you lie to me.

He glanced at the cane in her hands, frowning deeply. So far there hadn't been a day where he hadn't felt the sharp sting of it whipping across the back of his legs and he debated whether it would be better to take the blame and receive only a single cane, or to continue telling the truth and receive a pair.

I didn't do it Ma'am. he finally muttered, resigning himself to telling the truth.

She shook her head and raised the cane, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

I am disappointed in you Master O'Cullum. I gave you the opportunity to do what you know in your heart is right and I warned you what would happen if you did not. Now, for your continued dishonesty you must accept the punishment that is due.

He tucked his hands under his arms and glared at her.

I didn't do it! he shouted. I told the truth and you don't care.

Her face had taken on an almost angelic quality at the prospect of using the cane and now she frowned at his outburst, shaking her head and tutting.

You continue to lie to me Master O'Cullum. The fact that you were seen is indisputable, yet you refuse to accept responsibility for you actions. I find this dishonest aspect of your behaviour most disappointing. Ever since your arrival you have been vandalising the facilities and creating constant disharmony and mischief. This proves to me that you are nothing more than an unrepentant trouble maker and see I have no other recourse but to make an example of you.

Opening the door of her office, she called out to her assistant.

Gather the children in the main hall Evelyn.

She glanced at Jon with a thin smile.

We're going to give them a lesson in honesty and responsibility.

Jon stood hunched in front of the entire orphanage, the matron standing beside him with one iron hard hand gripping his shoulder tightly. Every eye was on him and he saw one or two whispering to each other with wide smiles on their faces. He scowled and cast his eyes down so he wouldn't have to look at them, sure that they were the ones who were really responsible. The thought that they looked to be enjoying the spectacle left a sour taste in his mouth and an angry fire in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly wanted to lash out at them but the matron’s hand and voice held him back.

This boy in front of you is the newest member of our family here at Saint Aspidus. the matron began loudly, her voice warm and melodic. After the tragic deaths of his loving mother and father, we opened our hearts to welcome him and we graciously accepted him to the fold.

The children stared at her silently as she slowly shook her head in feigned disappointment. Jon winced as her fingers suddenly dug into his shoulder and her voice hardened.

In return he has caused nothing but trouble, wantonly destroying property and causing general mayhem.

She glanced down at him with a frown.

Until now we have turned a blind eye to his antics, hoping and praying that he would find his place and settle in. However, this has not happened and I find it most unfortunate that we have come to the point where we must mete out fair punishment for his errant behaviour. In light of the seriousness of his actions, fifteen canes are to be administered.

Jon looked up at her in dismay to see her smiling serenely down at him. At the same time a hushed muttering swept the hall, the children whispering to each other in their surprise at the harsh sentence. Those who had smiled before now looked as shocked as everyone else.

It is hoped that with this punishment, he will see the error of his ways and will comport himself in a manner more befitting. the matron said loudly, her voice easily overriding the whispering.

Her grip on Jon's arm tightened further, her fingers cutting into his arm cruelly as she leaned down to put her face close to his.

You're going to stand there and take your punishment like a man. she whispered to him fiercely. If you move or try to escape, I'll have two of the elder boys hold you down and I'll give you an extra five for your trouble.

With her warning given, the matron bent him over a table in front of everyone and proceeded to dole out the sentence in grim silence. The first cane landed across the back of his thighs with a sharp crack that echoed through the hall. A moment later he felt it sting, burning a line of angry fire through his skin. Even with the thick pants he wore, the blow was more than enough to bring tears to his eyes and he bit his lip to keep himself from crying out. A surprisingly mature voice in his head congratulated him for remaining silent, encouraged him not to give her the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Just as the pain of the first blow began to fade, the matron administered the second, striking a bare inch above the previous blow and scoring a second line of fire across his thighs. He grunted, his teeth grinding into his lip almost unnoticed and drawing blood. The third blow came as once again the initial bloom of pain began to fade. He finally broke on the fifth stroke, whimpering as tears streamed down his face. By the tenth stroke he was howling unashamedly in frustration and agony, all thoughts of staying quiet long gone. The mature voice in his head commiserated with him through the searing pain, gently telling him it would soon be over.

The final five strokes landed on his already bruised thighs and the matron smiled in satisfaction at his tear streaked face as he straightened at the end.

I trust that you will remember this lesson next time you think about causing any mischief. she growled at him. You can expect more of the same if you step out of line again.

She turned to the assembled children with a flourish of the cane in her hand.

Let this be a lesson and reminder to everyone that mischief and wanton behaviour shall not be tolerated here at Saint Aspidus. We strive to instil three very important values in our charges, those of honesty, responsibility and order. The irresponsible behaviour and dishonesty displayed by Master O'Cullum goes against all we hold dear and as such it cannot be allowed to flourish. Let us take this lesson to heart and move on with our lives.

She waved them off with the cane, turning and walking away without looking back. Jon watched her go through puffy eyes, experiencing for the first time in his young life a sense of deepest loathing. In desperation, he silently hoped that he would be adopted soon.

Chapter 4

The leaden sky hung over him as he sat against the grey stone wall of the home. The other children played in the yard, their cheerful yelling and noisy games in stark contrast to both his mood and the overcast sky. He felt as though he was caged, trapped inescapably within the low stone walls of the orphanage. In the six and a half months since he had been brought within its confines, he hadn't made any friends, hadn't found anything to be happy about or look forward to. Most days he sat outside in the shadows of the imposing building, staring at the walls that surrounded him. It didn't seem to matter the spot he had chosen was in full view of the matron’s office, he was still the scapegoat for the other children's pranks. The fact that the matron was unable to see how he managed to pull off these pranks when he was sitting in full view of her only served to infuriate her further. The burning lick of the cane was as familiar now as the stones he leaned upon. He had taken to sitting against the wall hating the orphanage and he knew that today was going to be no different to the last one hundred and ninety four that had passed, each one of which weighed him down and crushed any spark of hope he had left.

When the gate opened and a young woman was escorted in, he watched her from beneath lowered lashes with a furtive interest. It wasn't often that people came to the orphanage and he wondered what she was there for. From a distance he took in the fashionable cut of her dress and her long honey brown hair, tied back from her pale face with a green ribbon. He watched as she looked around the yard as she walked, her eyes lingering on a child here and there before finally coming to rest on him where he sat half hidden in the shade. She seemed to look at him for longer than the others, her stride hesitating for the barest of moments before she hurried up the steps and inside. He felt his heart flutter unexpectedly and silently berated himself for the momentary hope he felt. He had thought it had been beaten out of him and the fact that it had reared its head surprised him. He had to forcefully remind himself that he knew he wasn't going anywhere. The matron had already pointed out with undisguised relish that he wasn't the type of child that prospective foster parents usually went for. What she had left unspoken was the fact that she made sure he was never in the line-up of children she paraded before prospective adopting families. She seemed intent on keeping her promise to hold him in the orphanage until he was old enough to join the army. With that knowledge, he sighed and despondently put the young lady out of his mind, letting go of his brief hope with a heavy heart.

Good morning Miss Grenfell. You have come here looking to adopt a child?

The young lady looked at the stout matron and nodded slowly. The matron smiled and held out a clipboard and a pen.

I'm glad you called ahead as I've taken the liberty of selecting several children you may find quite agreeable. If you would please complete some paperwork for our records, I will gather them for you to meet.

Taking the clipboard, the young woman shook her head.

I saw a boy in the yard as I was walking in. I would like to meet him first if you please. she said quietly.

The matron nodded in surprise.

Of course Miss. Could you please describe this boy?

Dark hair and blue eyes. He was sitting by himself...

The matron nodded with a frown.

I know the boy. she said shortly. He is an insolent trouble maker, always making mischief and causing havoc. Are you sure this boy is one you wish to speak to?

The young lady frowned at the matron.

Of course he is. she replied sharply. If I did not wish to speak to him I would not have asked for you to bring him to me.

The matron nodded sourly and pointed to the clipboard.

Fill that in and I'll get the child.

Jon looked at the matron coming toward him mistrustfully. The scowl on her face made him wonder what he had been accused of doing this time. While the other children still blamed him for most of their pranks, making him the scapegoat whenever they were caught, the almost daily canings matron continued to give him were beginning to have less effect on him as the skin on the back of his thighs toughened. Yet despite the constant harassment, he still shrank into himself as she stopped and looked down at him.

You are wanted inside boy. she told him brusquely.

Whatever it was, I didn't do it. he told her in a small voice, refusing to look up at her.

She shook her head irritably at his poor manners and turned on her heels, speaking back to him over her shoulder.

Your pranks are none of my concern right now boy. You are simply wanted inside. Lord knows why.

She waited for him long enough to hold the door open for him, leading him along the main corridor while the sound of her shoes clacking on the tiles echoed around them. She finally stopped at another door and pushed him through ahead of her into a small room, its tall windows letting the pale spring sunlight flood the cold space with the illusion of warmth. The lady he had seen earlier was seated at the small fireplace and she looked up with a smile as the door opened. She stood as he was ushered in and he looked at her curiously as he walked slowly toward her. The matron’s insistent hand on his back propelled him forward far quicker than he liked and in moments he stood in front of the young lady.

Miss Grenfell, this is Jonathan O'Cullum. His parents were killed in an auto accident several months ago. the matron announced impersonally.

The young lady winced at her abrupt tone and looked at Jon with a kind smile.

Hello Jon. My name is Karissa.

He watched her curiously as she knelt and extended her hand to him. Taking it shyly, he shook it and smiled. From the moment he had entered the room he had been enthralled by her elegant dress, the soft colour and rich fabric in stark contrast to the coarse grey cotton of his own clothes. Up close he was struck dumb by her musical voice and her pale beauty, unable to find his voice to say hello.

She smiled at his shy silence, her eyes flicking momentarily to the matron. From her first glimpse of him in the yard, she had somehow known the boy didn't belong here and she decided it was best to be up front with him.

I've a question for you. she continued. How would you like to leave this place and come home with me?

He frowned and looked at the matron questioningly.

Answer Miss Grenfell's question child. Don't go wasting her time. she told him sternly.

Karissa looked up at her, frowning her displeasure silently. The matron shrugged and looked away. Jon looked at Karissa as she turned back to him, her gentle smile returning.

What do you think of that idea? she asked.

He took a few seconds to think about it, looking at the matron again briefly. He frowned at the plump woman's back and turned to Karissa again.

I don't like this place. he told her earnestly.

She smiled as the matron's frown deepened, nodding in amusement.

I agree with you Jon. I do not believe this place is right for a young man to grow up in. It simply does not have an atmosphere conducive to laughter. That is something I believe to be of utmost importance.

The matron snorted and walked away, clearly disagreeing with Karissa's opinion. Jon smiled timidly, his eyes finally making brief contact with hers.

Do you think I'll like your house? he asked uncertainly.

Karissa nodded.

Of course. It's a nice house, out in the countryside with plenty of fresh air and an abundance of space for you to run around in. I do believe you will enjoy it.

He withdrew into his shell, thinking deeply about her offer. Even though he hated the orphanage, it had become home and he didn't know if he would like Karissa's house. Ever since the accident there had been so many changes in his life and this was yet another for him to consider. She waited patiently for him, silently giving him the time to decide for himself. Eventually he looked up from his feet at her, his shy smile creeping across his face once more.

I think I would like that Miss Grenfell.

She laughed lightly, the sound warm and enticing to his ears.

Please Jon, let's not be so formal. Call me Karissa.

He suddenly looked at her, his eyes catching hers and staying. His smile widened and she saw a fire kindle within him, shining brightly through his eyes as he replied seriously.

I think I will like that very much...Karissa.

He was surprised by Karissa's boundless energy as she made sure the adoption papers were signed and all the required documents were in order. He had expected to be stuck in the orphanage for at least another week while everything was made ready for him to leave. A week in which he was sure the matron would make every single day completely miserable. Karissa apparently had other ideas and within a few hours he was striding quickly along beside her, his small suitcase banging on his thigh as they left the orphanage. There had been only one heart stopping moment for him; the clerk held them up as they were leaving, waving to the matron as she did. The clerk pointed something out to the older woman and the matron smiled thinly as she looked up at Karissa.

I'm sorry Miss Grenfell, there seems to be an issue with your paperwork. she said apologetically, glancing at Jon with a hard gleam in her eye.

Karissa frowned and returned to the desk.

An issue? Would you care to tell me what this issue is?

The matron pushed the papers across the desk and pointed to them.

It would seem that you have written your marital status as single.

Karissa scowled.

Exactly what difference does that make? My application has been approved by the senior board members that run this facility. If they have no issue with my marital status, I do not see why you should.

The matron scowled and glanced at Jon again.

I have a moral obligation to ensure that my charges are going to a good home. she replied stiffly. I am of the opinion that a home with a single parent is unsatisfactory. It is morally irresponsible for an unmarried woman to raise a young boy alone. How are you supposed to support his growth and education?

Karissa stiffened, her face hardening at both the real and implied insults.

Let me make this perfectly clear to you Missus Prentiss. she said coldly. "I run my own very profitable and honest business from the home my deceased parents left to me in their very ample will. A home may I point out that is entirely debt free and wholly owned by myself. I do not need to worry about money, thanks in part to the foresight of my loving father but mostly due to the fact that my business generates an income that is more than enough to cover my expenses. I have taken my situation into account and I assure you that he will not want for anything."

She stood proudly in front of the matron, her eyes blazing with suppressed fury.

Additionally, I will have you know that the Board Chairman is an old family friend who has known me from the day I was born. If you have any further complaints regarding my lifestyle or how I am to afford looking after a growing child, I suggest you speak with him as he was the one who signed my papers.

Karissa's argument had taken much of the wind out of the matrons sails yet the stout woman wasn't about to give up without a last parting shot.

What will the boy do without a father? she countered sharply.

"Jonathan will do perfectly well without a father. Karissa snapped. I'm quite sure that once he is away from this prison, he will do remarkably well."

Jon watched the two of them with his mouth hanging open in awe. He'd never seen anyone stand up to the matron and to see Karissa defiantly battling for him made him feel wanted for the first time in months. The matron spared a glance for him, scowling when she saw the look on his face.

Close your mouth boy. You look like a fool. she berated him.

A strange feeling came over him and he heard himself calmly uttering words he'd only ever heard the older children whispering to each other in the safety of darkness or in the toilets when they were sure she wasn't around to hear them.

Stick your cane up your bung hole you old bat.

The matron turned purple with rage, her eyes bugging out as she floundered for words to express her indignation. In the shocked silence after his statement, he looked up at Karissa to see she was smiling.

Can we go? he asked her.

No! No you cannot go! the matron blurted. You ungrateful, foul mouthed...

Oh do be quiet. You sound like a fool. Karissa told her curtly.

Taking Jon's hand, she led him out of the office while the matron spluttered and yelled incoherently. Her screaming followed them down the corridor and as Karissa opened the front door, she smiled at Jon once more.

Did she cane you often? she asked.

Jon nodded, a shadow of remembered pain flitting across his face.

Most days. he murmured unhappily.

Karissa frowned and let the door close, cutting off the sound of the matron abusing her unfortunate clerk.

On the footpath outside the orphanage, Karissa glanced over her shoulder with a frown as the gate closed behind them. Jon waited beside her, wondering what she was thinking. Eventually she shook her head and looked down at him with an amused smile.

Shall we?

She held out her hand and Jon took it uncertainly. It was the first time he had been outside the orphanage walls since he had arrived and the activity around him left him nervous and trembling. As they started walking, she glanced at the case in his other hand, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Are you sure you don't want me to carry that case for you?

He looked up at her and shook his head. Some small part of him couldn't bear to be parted with the few belongings he had, another part wanting to prove to her that he was capable.

I can carry it Miss. he panted. It's not that heavy.

She laughed lightly and he smiled at the sound.

That case is almost as big as you are. Why don't you let me carry it for you? We've got a ways to go before we reach the station.

Jon stopped suddenly and Karissa turned to look at him.

Are you alright Jon?

He nodded slowly.

We're not getting in an auto are we? he asked timidly.

Karissa shook her head quickly and knelt in front of him so her eyes were level with his. The depth of the fear in his eyes shocked her and she wondered what exactly he had seen of the accident the matron had only briefly mentioned. She stroked his cheek hesitantly with one hand and smiled reassuringly.

No Jon, we'll walk to the station. From there we will catch the train and when we reach my village, we'll walk again from the station there to my home. she told him gently. I don't own an auto and I much prefer my own two feet to carry me.

He looked away as hot tears prickled at his eyes, furiously wiping at them with his free hand before she could see them. She put a soft hand under his chin and turned his head so he was looking at her again.

I...I don't like auto's. he stammered. Not anymore.

Karissa nodded and took a lace handkerchief from her pocket, gently wiping the tears from his face.

I can understand that Jon. You've been a brave boy and you must miss your parents dearly. I know I can never replace them but I hope that one day you will accept me as a worthy substitute.

He stared at her, his eyes wide as he struggled with himself. After a few moments he dropped his case and flung his arms around her neck, sobbing in gratitude.

Jon slept most of the way as the train rattled through the evening light, the excitement of the day catching up to him soon after the train had pulled out of the station. Karissa watched him sleeping from across the compartment, disturbed by the pinched look on his face and his twitching limbs. Several times he moaned softly and she almost stood to wake him, only for him to subside and have the ghost of a smile creep across his lips in his sleep. She wondered what he was dreaming, what could seem to cause him so much pain one minute and then contentment in next. The cycle repeated over and over until she wondered if perhaps it would be kinder to wake him after all. She was saved the trouble when he woke by himself as the twinkling lights of her home village came into sight through the gloomy twilight.

Are we there? he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Karissa smiled and nodded.

We're nearly there. The train will be stopping in several minutes and you shall have your first glimpse of your new home.

He smiled and stared out the window at the lights that now flickered by.

Do you live on a farm? he asked.

Karissa first nodded, then shook her head with a smile.

Not exactly a farm in the traditional sense. I keep bees and sell their honey in the market every month. There are thousands of bees everywhere in my garden, busily pollinating my flowers and making their honey.

Jon smiled at the thought, the smile dimming slightly after a few moments as he looked at her in alarm.

What if I get stung by your bees? Will I blow up and die like Tammy Welsh did at the orphanage?

Karissa frowned slightly at the thought, hiding her disgust at the orphanage for letting a child die in their care. She put the orphanage out of her head and smiled at him.

I suppose that would depend on whether you are allergic to bee stings. Have you ever been stung by a bee before?

He frowned in concentration, trying to remember.

I don't know. he finally whispered.

She took his hands and squeezed them gently, leaning over to whisper into his ear conspiratorially.

Then we'll have to ask them nicely not to sting you won't we.

The lights along the station platform dimmed slightly as they were shrouded in steam from the engine, halos of pearly light surrounding them. Jon held Karissa's hand tightly as they stepped off the train, his case held firmly in his other hand. Karissa smiled at his stubborn refusal to let her carry it for him, watching him look around at the station in undisguised curiosity. She led him off the platform, smiling at the station master as they passed him and receiving a familiar nod of greeting in return. From the top of the station steps they looked across the village square, gas lamps glowing brightly at fifty foot intervals along the streets. A large, white painted rotunda stood in the centre of the square, surrounded by neatly manicured lawns. The rotunda seemed to glow in the light of the street lamps, its polished slate roof shimmering as it reflected the plasma fires burning in the air high above them.

They pay someone to go up on that roof once a month to keep the tiles polished just for that effect. Karissa told him. It is quite a sight when they turn the street lamps down low.

Jon looked up at her and smiled.

It's nice here.

Karissa smiled in return.

Just wait until we get home. I'm quite sure that you'll like the garden just as much.

He looked around at the village again, taking in the neatly kept hedges around the square and the shops lining three sides of it. The station completed the fourth side of the square and he glanced up at Karissa again.

How far is it?

She tilted her head and looked at him steadily.

It is two miles walk from here. Do you feel up to that?

He nodded slowly, wondering if he could.

I think so.

She smiled and nodded acceptance.

Well, there is only one way to find out isn't there. she said brightly. Let's get going.

Jon finally relented after a mile, grudgingly allowing Karissa to carry his case as they walked along a dusty road in the cool night air. The way was well lit by the eerie blue green plasma fires above them and Jon looked at each of the houses they passed, their windows warmly lit by the glow of gas lamps.

It is only another mile to go. We'll be home soon. she told him as he wearily placed one foot in front of the other.

He looked up at her with a tired smile.

I can make it. he agreed gamely.

He struggled on in her wake as she glanced back encouragingly. When he thought he could go no further, she stopped and smiled at him.

Can you smell the flowers Jon?

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he realised she was right. The warm scent of lavender was the strongest but a myriad of others invaded his nose as well, the aroma dizzyingly sweet. The smell rejuvenated him, his tired legs firming under him as his heart lifted and Karissa took his hand, leading him down the road another hundred yards to a small gate in the hedge that lined the path. She let him go long enough to open the gate and usher him through to the wild garden beyond.

The path from the gate to the front door of the house was bordered by flowers, wide beds of plants growing in wild profusion. The house itself was a two storey brick building, the ground floor of which was almost completely hidden behind flowering shrubs and ivy. The lush foliage had been cut back from around white framed windows to allow the sun to shine into the interior of the house. The overall effect of the garden was one of abundant life and growth barely kept in check, its vibrant colours muted now in the semi-dark. Jon looked up to Karissa in wonder as they walked up the path to the blue painted door.

This is your house?

She shook her head with a smile, fishing the front door key out of her pocket and holding it out to him.

No Jon, this is our house.

Chapter 5

Jon came to love the garden in spite of the fact that he got his first bee sting a week after Karissa brought him home. While crawling beneath an expansive lavender bush he had felt a sharp pain near his ankle and looking back, he saw a bee tumble to the ground and he screamed. He had run inside, crying and shouting that he was going to die until Karissa patiently pointed out that not only had he not swollen up like the girl in the orphanage, he was also still very much alive and was having no difficulty breathing. He slowly calmed down as she smiled at him and after she removed the sting, she told him that the bees had decided to adopt him as well. She told him that even though the sting hurt now, they didn't really mean to hurt him and at heart they were still friendly creatures. She also warned him that even though they were friendly, he was likely to get more stings now and then if he didn't allow the bees their space or if he wasn't friendly to them in return. With moist eyes, he had solemnly declared he wanted to be friends with them and he wouldn't hurt them if they would do the same for him. After that he had been more circumspect in his exploration of the flowerbeds and the bees had left him alone.

It also hadn't taken him long to explore the village with her. The day after his bee sting she had seen to it that they walked into the village square to have tea and cakes at the small cafe beside the train station. After they had finished their tea they had walked around the few streets, Karissa pointing out everything for him and answering the questions he asked. By the end of that day he had become familiar with his new home and cheerfully talked all the way from the village to the house while Karissa smiled at the change in him. He finally admitted that he liked the village with its quiet streets and friendly people as they were passing through the garden gate. From that day on Karissa often had him deliver letters to the post office or had him run into the general store to pick up small items. Usually she would give him a few coppers of his own to spend and he would return to the house, half hidden in the jungle like garden with a paper bag of chocolate from the confectioners. The elderly lady who ran the shop would smile indulgently at him as he selected the