Natur, my father. A strong and robust man.
Sometimes I watch my father when it's his turn to take care of me.
He is gentle and attentive, he's a great father.
He puts me on the couch and starts playing with me, making funny faces and moving my little fingers.
Holding me in his arms, picking me up. He takes me outside to show me different things and to break the monotony.
We walk along the dusty road, we see oxen and horses in the fields. Plants being harvested by farmers.
People watering seedlings, with water that comes from their hands.
That comes from their hands?
Dad saw it and didn't change his expression. Maybe it's normal. Well, that old woman also used something strange on me and they didn't do anything.
When I learn to read and manage to talk normally with people, I'll start researching about it.
— Look there, son, a mage.
My father extended his hand and pointed at the old man watering the seedlings.
— Cool, right?
He added.
— Dad, hasn't mom already said it's rude to point at others?
Said Damian, coming down the road in front of us, accompanied by Ellen.
Both with backpacks on their backs.
— Oh! You've already come back from school?
They nodded. My father gave a mischievous smile. My father quickly broke down his mischievous smile into a gentle one.
Damian and Ellen didn't care and kept walking toward our house, following their previous path before being interrupted by Natur.
The young lovebirds disappeared down the road, following the long horizon. Natur, who had been watching them, turned and began to walk. We ended up heading toward the village.
Our house is a bit far from the village.
We arrived quite quickly, dad went straight to a medium-sized building, full of other men drinking.
Dad went in and approached a table with five men around it. They all seemed to be about his age.
He pulled two chairs. Putting me in one and sitting in the other beside me.
— Hello, everyone!
He said to the men. These men are apparently his friends. Men in their thirties, married and with children. That's the impression they give me.
Something tells me I got it exactly right.
— Well, if it isn't Natur.
Said one with red hair and white roots, with a humble and solemn smile. Full of kindness.
The others greeted him in alternating ways.
— And your wives and children? How are they?
My father asked, starting a conversation.
Of course, even without understanding them, I'm not so stupid as to be unable to distinguish some things in their speech.
And thanks to the dialogues I hear around me, I'm starting to understand some words.
All of my father's friends looked down, dejected.
They all seemed to have problems at home, or had argued with their wives, or their children were disobedient. That's what it seemed like, their looks are empty.
— Man, my wife is sick, and my children and I are working hard. But aside from that, everything's fine.
The man with red hair and white roots said sadly. However, his humble smile didn't leave his face.
The others said something similar, except for the part about the sick wife.
They said: — My son started working and left home, in a few years he plans to marry his fiancée.
Said the chubby one. Chubby because he's not that fat, because of his size.
— My wife spends all her time complaining to me, I'm fed up. I'm only with her because of my children. — The third man sighed. His body has no trace of strength. However, he's not that out of shape. — Ah, if it weren't for my beloved children, I would have already divorced.
The fourth spoke. This man is an ordinary man without any especially specific trait.
— I'm fine in any case. I'm just on vacation from work and my wife went to visit her mother and took our baby. I miss them.
Then the fifth man spoke normally.
— I'm fine thanks to God. I'm single, but that's the sad part, I haven't found anyone to marry.
And then the fifth man said to my father.
— So, Natur. How is it taking care of the new child? — the man touched my old man's shoulder.
Then my father picked me up in his arms, took me off the bench and fed me with his hands. Then he rocked me. With me in his hands, he took the glass in front of him. The waiter had just placed it. He took a big gulp and said: — Right now, mine is the best of all. Because I have a great family, two great children, and the best friends I could ever want.
The friends who had been downcast put on smiles of pride at the shameless, yet fearless declaration. They then took their glasses, now full of beer, and toasted fervently.
— To friends, to children, and to wives!
They shouted simultaneously.
Even though some have family problems and others don't even have a family, they shouted for their futures, and for the futures of their children and their families. Everyone knows an old saying from an ancient martial master: "Yesterday is a story that has already passed, tomorrow is a mystery that will soon arrive, but today is a gift, that's why it's called the present, because we can enjoy it."
They had to make the most of their time together, because even in a cruel world, true happiness is found in moments like these.
They lived that moment for hours you could count on your fingers. But for them, time was immeasurable.
It was so immeasurable that even I didn't see time pass. My mission was the following: pay attention to the conversation and try to understand as many words as possible, understand sentences and their colloquialisms and meanings.
The darkness of nightfall came and my father said goodbye to his friends, picked me up and left. Despite the laughs and chuckles, now it was time to go home.
We went back along the same path we came. We passed by the places where we saw the oxen and the old man who waters plants with his hands.
A cold wind ran through the air, hitting our faces. Dad staggered, almost dropping me to the ground. His murmurs filled the silent path back.
* * *
We arrived home. My father staggered slightly.
Upon opening the door he came face to face with mom. Mom's face was steaming with anger.
— Where were you with my baby, you!
She took me from dad's hands and hit his head with a knock.
Natur groaned in pain. The pain was so great for him that he became semi-sober.
— Ugh! — Natur groaned. He added with a hesitant growl. — What was that?
She took me to her room and put me to sleep.
***
A year passed. My ability to move increased significantly, I started crawling. However, it wasn't just my mobility, but the speed of my adaptation to the spoken language of this world increased extraordinarily, a swift adaptation.
But my vocabulary isn't large. And since the divergence between the language I know (which is naturally part of me) and that of this world clashes constantly, I always try to listen to others when they speak.
And speaking of something like that, it reminds me that I still can't read.
Well, leaving that aside, right now I'm in Ellen's arms cheering for Damian at the regional soccer championship.
I won't write the game again, despite my growing enthusiasm. I'll just state the final result of the match.
[Bramble.F.C=3x2=Minat.Sul] - Final score.
The village team won as I had predicted.
To celebrate, we had a little party at home. All of Damian's teammates were invited, including some girls. I suppose some of them are the boys' sisters. Of course, Ellen came.
Damian spent most of the party talking to her. I could hear some murmurs from the other boys.
— What a lucky guy.
— Just start dating already.
— I'm so jealous.
Things like that. I didn't think it was nice of them to say that. But it's understandable given their age.
My mother, with her great ability to be a killjoy, came and took me in her arms, pulling me out of the party.
I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.
In the warm arms of my stunning mother, her silly and contagious smile formed, and her slender eyes closed into a charismatic half-moon. She told me: — One day you'll be in your brother's place. And I'll prepare the best celebration party for you and your friends. And you'll be the best of them, won't you? — she smiled warmly.
***
This year I turned two years old. I'm growing fast.
At this very moment I'm with my father at one of his jobs. After a few months since his meeting with his friends at the bar, I found them again at my father's workplaces.
The current job is village guard. Of course, he's not a fighter or anything, but they make up a simple guard. If something beyond their limits appears, they call the village warriors and mages.
My father stays from 6:00 in the morning until 12:00 in the afternoon at the guard post. And from 13:50 in the afternoon he goes to his second job. There he works in construction. And the third he takes care of when he comes back from construction. He has cattle and chickens in a corral and a small chicken coop behind the house.
Mom plants vegetables next to the corral. Fruits and other things we buy in the city.
Sometimes I prefer to go with my father to his jobs, at least I stay quiet. It's better than staying at home trapped in a baby cage.
Life has been peaceful and ordinary. Monotonous is a better word.
But on some nights of sleep I have recurring nightmares. However, I always forget them when I wake up. But a tightness in my chest appears, as if I'm forgetting something important, and that I absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, forget. I can't do anything about it, every time I try to remember or not forget, but it's useless.
Well, I can't do anything about that.
My house is quite big, I think you could say that from my perspective. It has two floors. Downstairs there is the kitchen, the living room, two bathrooms, a room to store everyday usable materials, and a food stock. On the second floor there are four bedrooms and one room with a closed door.
And I am exactly in front of that closed room. But right now it isn't closed. Damian left it open by accident. More precisely, the door is just slightly ajar.
I extended my arm without hesitation and placed my hand on the door. I pushed it with all my strength, which isn't much, and it opened slowly, creating an atmosphere.
I crawled across the wooden floor into the room. I sat in the middle of the room. I looked around, observing.
I saw a table accompanied by a chair. And next to it, on the other wall, a bookshelf full of books.
I slowly approached the shelf. I observed it, full of dusty and thick books. I pulled one, fascinated. It fell and opened accidentally and the dust rose, making me sneeze.
Of course I can't understand anything written, however on some of the pages there are drawings, and out of youthful curiosity I started flipping through the book page by page. Stars could be seen in my eyes.
— Ryo, no! — Damian shouted. — Be careful, little brother, the pages can cut your skin, and yours is very vulnerable. Damn, mom would kill me if she saw you bleeding even a little. Good thing I got here in time.
He picked me up and placed me on the table and quickly went to the book and put it away. Then he came back to me even faster. His concern for me, and for not getting hit; I could see reflected in his eyes.
— How did you get up here and open the door? — he thought for a moment and slapped his own forehead with the palm of his hand.